Just in time for New Year's -- Halloween photos

Audrey and Mom work on her sparkly tights, drawing comets and meteors with glitter paint.

The shooting star was Audrey's idea (inspired, we think, by TMBG's "What is a shooting star?") and Mom spent most of a day stitching the hat together. Compliments (and tooth-rotting treats) collected all around the neighborhood. I just have to say that I am lucky to live in an age where you can google the words "shooting star costume pattern" and bingo! there it is. (Thanks, Canadian Living magazine!) All I had to do was print the PDF, spend nearly $70 at the craft supply store, and then hand it all to my mother. (Thanks, Gramma Jean!)

Blogmania

All right, Mom? Got my lunchbox for school, but I can't find my other cuff link. It's the first day of preschool, I just don't want to look like a tool. Audrey says no on the purse... is it the color? I can do the black if you think the pink is too over the top.

First morning of school, Fall 2011. No, the camera's not out of focus-- Kris looks like that all the time now.

Audrey's Fourth Birthday Pancake and Cupcake Breakfast. Because who doesn't want candy sprinkles at 9 o'clock in the morning?

No, honey, I'm fine: I just want to crouch here and hold onto the wall for a second.

Hi, customer service? There's a problem with my order. This box is full of children.

On Not Being Two

Thought I wasn't keeping a blog anymore? Well, you're just about right. I started working (some) and found out just how difficult-- nay, impossible!-- it is to keep up with the laundry, shopping, personal grooming, sleeping, not to mention breathless mommy-blogging that is my suburban life. I've got a two month backlog of photos and irrelevant details with attendant whining to catch up on, but today I just wanted to say "Happy Birthday" to my sweet, ferocious little boy Calvin who is now two years old. That picture was taken today at nursery school and this Friday we'll do our family celebrations.

This morning when I told him how happy I was that he was turning two he said, "No! I NOT being two!" And that about sums it up for Calvin lately. He lives to refuse. But then he'll also have his moments of rapture, like when I first see him in the morning, when he just holds my face in his hands so that our noses are touching and says, "Oh, Mommy... I miss you."

It's really weird that I'm looking at a picture of other people celebrating with Calvin today when I was here working (mostly) and fretting (a lot). On balance, we're doing all right although the shifts have been bigger than any of us thought they would be. Home cooking around here often looks a lot like a delivery box of pizza. And the socks you're wearing today just might be the socks you wore yesterday... and the ones you'll wear tomorrow, I'm not making any promises on that.

A thousand more postings to come soon. If I can get some sleep tonight. But we haven't forgotten our loyal, our passionate, our few fans of ChickpeaCentral and how much we like being connected to you all through this quaint medium.... Stay tuned and please email and call us. We miss you!

First dance class

You can't hear the music or the instructor over Calvin's howling, but you can see that Audrey took to the dance class. This was the first five minutes of the class, and if there is any hesitation in her exuberant scarf-waving dance, I don't see it... It certainly helped that Bethiah was there, and another friend from preschool.

Jazzing the rose.

Love that first day of the year when it's time to pull out the fleece for a morning walk. And with the change of season, let's have an edition of our very popular (to all three of our readers!) Overheard column:

Tappy is a new word Audrey made up, shortly after she started her Saturday morning dance class. If you are feeling happy about having tap shoes, that's tappy. She told me this while she and Calvin engaged in their weekend morning ritual of climbing into our bed at dawn and sitting on our chests-- she on mine, he on his-- until we arise. It's a great way to wake up-- having a toddler use your rib cage like a fireplace billows and forceably pressing the air out. Do try it!

Audrey is very interested in "'spressions" and using "words of speech" to get her meaning across. The other day I asked her why she was placing some elaborate scribbles across a piece of paper and she said, "Well, sometimes I just like to jazz the rose."

If I understand her-- and I'm not at all sure I do, but I'm trying-- to jazz the rose is like gilding the lily, but with more fizz and pop.

Calvin's commentary remains largely inexplicable except to himself a lot of the time. For instance, he told his preschool teachers over and over again today that he likes to hold hands at the park. OK, you like to hold hands. At the park. And this is relevant to...? Then again, who cares? It's adorable. I'll hold hands with Calvin at the park anytime.

He's got a hold of the word "actually" now. Which you use in conversation to change course, or just mix things up a little, as in, I've been screaming for 15 minutes that Audrey took my train but actually-- hiccup, sniff-- I want a bottle. So forget that other stuff. What train?

And he's not about to take any crap from us, either. I tried to wrench a sharp utensil out of his grasp and was told fiercely, "Ab-so-wooty NOT!" (Have I used these words a few times in the past year? It would seem so.) But if you make him mad, it's easily fixed: just give him a "bomb-cracker." You know, the ones that you use to make a nice bomb-cracker crust?

The Statue of Levity...

...is where Audrey told me she was headed today. Could that have anything to do with Bethiah's recent trip to NYC? Dunno. Calvin's game: he wants to go anywhere she goes, have anything she has, say anything she says. To just about any suggestion he will roar, "Yes! Dats my FAY-bit!" Excluding naps, diaper changes and being strapped into a carseat, of course. But he is not to blame for his exuberance; as Audrey helpfully explained, "It's not Calvin's fault if he acts like a crazy man. That's just how his body is."

Indeed.

Audrey and Mom at a concert, and a glimpse ahead.

Suburban bliss: an outdoor concert on the grounds of the public library, on a summer evening, a picnic, just me and Audrey and some good friends, and friendly, gum-snapping teenagers doing face-painting. I had such a good, good time just being with Audrey who is, all by herself, a total delight 99% of the time. It's not simple to figure out, but it's worth the extra schedule juggling to do it. I still remember when my mom set aside afternoon to just hang out with me, and sent Janna off to the sitter for a few hours. What a luxury to give all my attention to one kid and let her lolligag as much as she wants, occupy me completely with charming, chattery nonesense, and dance with her in our upper-middle-class Eden with the rest of the 401(k)'d and batik-skirted volk. (That sounds snappish but I had a really, really lovely time.)

And here's a little news about Audrey's future plans that I found mildly upsetting at first. One of her preschool teachers is expecting a baby and so a lot of "imaginative play" in the classroom has included being pregnant. (You know, stuffing a pillow under your shirt and all that.) Audrey, I was informed one recent day at pick-up time, had announced her pregnancy that day. For a moment I felt a strange choking sensation and then I remembered: she's 3. This sweet, quiet little boy in her class said it was also his baby, and that he was going to marry Audrey. He kept his arm protectively around her for much of the afternoon, the teachers reported. A few days later his mother said she'd overheard her son saying he had to earn lots of money to take care of the baby. Later he asked her if she would mind taking care of the baby while he takes Audrey on a 100 day honeymoon.

Scott and I are still adjusting to it all, but we are pleased she has chosen such a thoughtful and pragmatic young man for a partner.