Sugar and Spice

It has, indeed, been a long time coming...but I'm back. So much has happened, it's hard to know where to start. Bug has turned 1. Her party was great, though she wouldn't touch her cake. She's teetering around on her shaky feet trying to walk, but she can shimmy up the stairs faster than any creature on this Earth, be it two- or four-legged. Pumpkin continues to co-mother her with me. What would I do without her.  When I hear Bug crying, she makes sure to tell me Bug is crying. When I hear Bug babbling, she makes sure to tell me Bug is awake. When Bug is hungry, tired, or mad, she makes sure to tell me Bug is hungry, tired, or mad. When Bug escapes to the stairs, she makes sure to tell me Bug is on the stairs.  You get the picture. Halloween this year was interesting, to say the least.  It was the first Halloween that Pumpkin really understood what was going on and looked forward to it. I, for one, have always despised Halloween, though this year I found mys...

I admit, I'm always in a hurry. Most of the time for no good reason, other than I tend to over-extend myself and be a bit of a perfectionist; neither of which are good reasons. I rushed through college and then law school, beginning my "career" at 24. I wasn't even old enough to rent a car for my first out-of-town deposition.  I always wanted to and still usually do want to be done with whatever goal I'm working on. I've never been good at "enjoying the ride," "stopping to smell the roses," "carpe-ing the diem" or whatever. I live dangerously on the edge of missing out on things because I'm so anxious and focused on getting to the next goal line. That's why I'm recycling this song for my title - I've used it before but it hits me in the gut every time I hear it. I find myself telling Pumpkin to hurry up a lot. Especially in the morning, before I am sufficiently caffeinated and when we are undoubtedly running ...

As we are getting our first tastes of sweet fall air (only in the early morning and late evening, mind you, but still tastes), I have finally slowed down enough to write. We've had quite a summer between moving, Bug's first beach trip, Pumpkin's swimming lessons, and weeks and weeks of good ol' fashion fun in the sun. For those inquiring minds, be advised that Bug (despite her name) appears to hate all things elemental. From the sun to the sand, the waves to the wind, she was having NONE of the beach. The moment she hit the air conditioning at the condo, all smiles. I now know what it must have been like to raise me, but at least I found my own ride to the top of the mountain when I didn't want to hike. Aside from her disdain for the outdoors, Bug is growing like a weed. She's moments away from walking and every time we stand her up to "practice" she stares down at her feet with a look that says "come on feet, do your thing" followed by...

Relationships are so easy when you're three.  Honestly, everything (or at some very important things) I need to know about relationships I could learn from my girls, if I'd only listen. First, always let people know what you want (or don't want).  My girls never hold back on what they want - whether it be the dreaded-by-all-adults question of "what should we have for supper" or a simple Saturday afternoon question of what should we do - they tell it like it is (or at least Pumpkin does, though Bug makes her opinions known in her own way).  Sometimes it stings a little, when for whatever reason they don't want to participate in whatever great idea I had planned for them or they just aren't in the mood for tickles or kisses, but I never wonder whether there are ulterior motives or if their actions are motivated by guilt.  There aren't and they aren't. Second, and in the same vein, always let people know how you feel.  Emotions get complicated and...

Sometimes, like this morning, I realize my conversations with Pumpkin have gotten out of control.   She is such a great conversationalist that sometimes I find I get myself in over my head with an explanation that is just a little more than a three-year old can handle.   For example, this morning I started discussing the 4 th of July with Pumpkin.   Simple enough – it was on the agenda for summer camp this week so I figured if they can talk about it so can I. It started out simple enough – America’s birthday; red, white, and blue; fireworks; parade; grilling out; cake.   Well, cake turned into a question of who was going to blow out the candles, which led to my attempted explanation of America as a country and not a person.   Despite the obscurity, Pumpkin resolved that one fairly easily – “I will blow out the candles for ‘merica.”   Okay, good enough. Then the talk turns back to cake and I start explaining how we will make a red, white, and bl...

We have had all sorts of crazy new adventures in the Brown house since last we met; the most obvious of which is the Brown house is now in a new location!  As of Friday we are the proud owners of our dream home which we have been trying to buy since before Bug was born.  For now, we are the proud owners of that home AND the owners of our River House but in 30-days (barring anymore unforeseen realty drama) we will be back to owning only ONE home.  Other than the typical stresses associated with moving and owning two homes, life has been mostly grand.  The girls love the new house, per Pumpkin, who has declared that it doesn't "stink like the other house".  Despite her love of the new digs, she refuses to sleep at night in her own room and has taken up residence on the floor next to my bed instead.  It sounds awful to relegate your child to the floor, but I thought if I made sleeping in my room unappealing maybe she would opt back into her ...

  My dear Pumpkin,   Today is your birthday.   I have decided that one of my gifts to you each year will be to write you a letter saying all the things I want to say but don’t or can’t, or that I need to but haven’t yet.   I know this “gift” won’t mean much now, other than to myself, but I need to know you have these letters when I’m gone, whether that be next year or in 50 years.   I want you to be able to hear my voice and know how very much you were loved.   And even when it doesn’t feel like it, I want you know that I understand you.   I want you to know that you are the most amazing little girl in the world. Today you are three.   Some moments I find myself looking at you and barely recognizing the little girl standing where my tiny baby once was.   I hear words out of your mouth that are beyond profound.   I see flashes of understanding in your eyes that lets me know you get things that you are not even able to fully pr...