Busy Bees
Tuesday morning was crisis mode. Adam had to go to California for the day, and he woke up at 4:30 to catch his 6:30 a.m. flight. Which would have been okay if he hadn't also woken up me and Doodles, who chose not to return to sleep. I tried to fake sleep until close till 6 when Pie woke up, but to little avail, since Doodles really wanted to have a conversation about his need for milk.
I got my children dressed, sunscreened, and downstairs. I made their milk (it's Carnation Instant Breakfast--a desperate attempt to get vitamins into Doodles). Then I needed my own fortification. So I turned to make my coffee. Only I had gotten Adam a new coffeemaker for Father's Day. And I didn't know how to use it. Arg! My plan was to get Doodles to DanceCamp, get a few errands done with Pie, and then relax at Starbucks till it was time to get Doodles. Yeah, right.
I took Pie to L.L. Bean and the simple task--getting some shorts for me, searching for sandals for her, and picking up a few things Adam needed--took over two hours. She charmed the pants off of everyone in the store--well, except me--as she leaped up and down the bench by the aquarium, shouting, "Fish! Fish! More fish? One, two, three, four, five! Five fish!" And then the ramps. She ran up and down and up and down and up and down...well, you get the idea. And then the sunglasses display. One after the other made its way to her face and then were discarded to the floor. By the time I had cleaned up all the sunglasses, she had pulled four shirts off the hanger and, when she couldn't hand them to me, tossed them on the floor. They have strollers at the store, so I stuck her in one, and she stood, tried to buckle the belt, sat down, tried the buckle again, screeched, tried to get out, stood some more, sat some more, screeched some more. I'm trying to pull things off the shelf and people are oohing, "Oh, what great hair! Oh, isn't she adorable?" And it's true. She is adorable. When she's not satan.
Now, to backtrack to DanceCamp. Doodles asked at the end of April/beginning of May to take a dance class. Only by then, the spring classes were in full swing and most places don't have summer classes. But then I found a local place that had a three-day dance camp for three year olds. I signed him up, and one of his male friends signed up as well. We showed up the first morning and his friend was waiting for him, too afraid to walk in by himself. I couldn't blame him. In the room were about 12 little girls in pink leotards, pink tutus, and hair in buns and ponytails. But Doodles? Doodles didn't care one whit. He walked straight into the room where the kids were doing a craft activity and took a seat. I got him some crayons, set him up, and said, "Okay, we're going now." He didn't even look up from his drawing when he said, "Bye!" and I had to remind him of my good-bye smooch. I picked him up and the kid was in heaven. He was bouncing on a trampoline, then did a somersault and was jumping around the room. When he came out happily, clearly excited to go back tomorrow. When pressed, he told me that they danced ("They told me what to dance. I didn't just do my own dances") but all I could find out about what they danced was "We did a butterfuly dance. To butterfly music. You can't do it without the music."
And then tonight I was moving like a mad woman. "Doodles, where are your mittens? Where did I leave Pie's snow pants? I need a jacket! Where's a jacket?" Of course it all seemed ludicrous when I got in the car and the thermometer read "99." But Pie and Doodles started their summer ice skating class, which is a bit of a disconnect, but they'd loved class so much and I didn't want to lose the momentum over the summer.
I have to say, a 6 p.m. ice skating class after a day of activity seemed like a homicide waiting to happen. Happily, I couldn't have been more wrong. Pie made HUGE strides in her class, and now she can get herself onto her feet herself and skate (before she could skate, but when she fell, someone else had to pick her up). Doodles is practicing jumping on his skates. It's unbelievable to me. Hello? What happened to my babies??
I love summer, but these late days are killing me. The kids are going to bed later, but not getting up much later. Which would be fine if I didn't want to take full advantage of summer. I took them to the town reservoir on Monday (aka the Res). Doodles wanted to plunge into the water (without getting his head wet); Pie wanted to sit by the edge, tasting rocks before dumping them in a bucket. I love going to the Res, but the kids are at such different speeds right now, I just don't see how doable it's going to be. All I know is I just want to sleep. For a week. And I don't want to have a conversation about milk. That vacation high? Already gone...
I got my children dressed, sunscreened, and downstairs. I made their milk (it's Carnation Instant Breakfast--a desperate attempt to get vitamins into Doodles). Then I needed my own fortification. So I turned to make my coffee. Only I had gotten Adam a new coffeemaker for Father's Day. And I didn't know how to use it. Arg! My plan was to get Doodles to DanceCamp, get a few errands done with Pie, and then relax at Starbucks till it was time to get Doodles. Yeah, right.
I took Pie to L.L. Bean and the simple task--getting some shorts for me, searching for sandals for her, and picking up a few things Adam needed--took over two hours. She charmed the pants off of everyone in the store--well, except me--as she leaped up and down the bench by the aquarium, shouting, "Fish! Fish! More fish? One, two, three, four, five! Five fish!" And then the ramps. She ran up and down and up and down and up and down...well, you get the idea. And then the sunglasses display. One after the other made its way to her face and then were discarded to the floor. By the time I had cleaned up all the sunglasses, she had pulled four shirts off the hanger and, when she couldn't hand them to me, tossed them on the floor. They have strollers at the store, so I stuck her in one, and she stood, tried to buckle the belt, sat down, tried the buckle again, screeched, tried to get out, stood some more, sat some more, screeched some more. I'm trying to pull things off the shelf and people are oohing, "Oh, what great hair! Oh, isn't she adorable?" And it's true. She is adorable. When she's not satan.
Now, to backtrack to DanceCamp. Doodles asked at the end of April/beginning of May to take a dance class. Only by then, the spring classes were in full swing and most places don't have summer classes. But then I found a local place that had a three-day dance camp for three year olds. I signed him up, and one of his male friends signed up as well. We showed up the first morning and his friend was waiting for him, too afraid to walk in by himself. I couldn't blame him. In the room were about 12 little girls in pink leotards, pink tutus, and hair in buns and ponytails. But Doodles? Doodles didn't care one whit. He walked straight into the room where the kids were doing a craft activity and took a seat. I got him some crayons, set him up, and said, "Okay, we're going now." He didn't even look up from his drawing when he said, "Bye!" and I had to remind him of my good-bye smooch. I picked him up and the kid was in heaven. He was bouncing on a trampoline, then did a somersault and was jumping around the room. When he came out happily, clearly excited to go back tomorrow. When pressed, he told me that they danced ("They told me what to dance. I didn't just do my own dances") but all I could find out about what they danced was "We did a butterfuly dance. To butterfly music. You can't do it without the music."
And then tonight I was moving like a mad woman. "Doodles, where are your mittens? Where did I leave Pie's snow pants? I need a jacket! Where's a jacket?" Of course it all seemed ludicrous when I got in the car and the thermometer read "99." But Pie and Doodles started their summer ice skating class, which is a bit of a disconnect, but they'd loved class so much and I didn't want to lose the momentum over the summer.
I have to say, a 6 p.m. ice skating class after a day of activity seemed like a homicide waiting to happen. Happily, I couldn't have been more wrong. Pie made HUGE strides in her class, and now she can get herself onto her feet herself and skate (before she could skate, but when she fell, someone else had to pick her up). Doodles is practicing jumping on his skates. It's unbelievable to me. Hello? What happened to my babies??
I love summer, but these late days are killing me. The kids are going to bed later, but not getting up much later. Which would be fine if I didn't want to take full advantage of summer. I took them to the town reservoir on Monday (aka the Res). Doodles wanted to plunge into the water (without getting his head wet); Pie wanted to sit by the edge, tasting rocks before dumping them in a bucket. I love going to the Res, but the kids are at such different speeds right now, I just don't see how doable it's going to be. All I know is I just want to sleep. For a week. And I don't want to have a conversation about milk. That vacation high? Already gone...
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