The Halloween Costume Try-Outs Continue…

Tessa has a SILLY hat(s)…

…a SiLLy hat(s)… (sing it, girl!)…

…a SIL-eeeeey hat(s)…

…now, Nora hAs a silLy HAt(s)…(and some mysterious water-substance or probably lunch…)

…on her HeAD!

It’s hard to do justice to our “silly hat” song on a blog.  But those are the lyrics.  The song mostly applies to our friend “Pez”–a dead tree down the street carved into the shape of a Pez dispenser that (who?) has various “silly hats” on its (his?) head depending on the season of the year.   This is “Halloween Pez”…

We love pez.

Tunnel Vision

Nora is far…

Tessa is near…

We could spend hours in our tunnel.  We chase each other round and round and round in the tunnel.  Sometimes daddy sticks the tunnel on his head and it looks like he got eaten by a giant rainbow worm!  So funny. 

Rings and Rosies

Ring around the rosie…

Pocket full of posies…

Ashes, Ashes…

We all fall DOWN!

Look at Nora (in blue) already doing the “again again again” sign. 

It’s so much fun to play.  After they fall down they say, “down, down, down”.  The girls will even hold each others’ hands and play.  And they sing, “ooo oooo oooooo”.  Very cute.

Thanks daddy and poppie for the game!  So fun.

Words

Our life is too busy.

Last week I got a card for my 32nd birthday and in the card was one simple phrase: “Enjoy every moment.”  I don’t think she meant the very fleeting moments of my 32nd year of life.

So, I am reminded, to enjoy these moments:

Tessa says, “Chuz”.  For “shoes”.  When I get home from work, both girls run frantically to the drawer where we keep their shoes.  I don’t know what this means.  But I do know they love their shoes and urgently want to put on mismatched variations of shoes and socks.

Both girls say, “down”.  They don’t say “no” yet but “down” is more like, “Let me down, lady, I’m outta here.”

When asked what sound does a kitty cat make, Nora says, “Mmmm…ow”.  There’s no long “e” sound.  Just a long, closed mouth “mmm” followed by “ow”.  Nora loves kitty cats.

We have the “oo oo oo” sound down for monkey, and it easily translates in the the sound also made by owls and ghosts.

“Mum mum mum” still comes in triplicate.  “Da da” for dad.  “Pa pa” or “poppie” sometimes for poppie Jerry.

We can point to everything.  We can point to specific people when named, our ears, our eyes (ouch!), mouth, sometimes to the song “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes,” our feet, where our hats go…our head, and we can point to my personal favorite, our bellybuttons.  Very cute.  We’re trying for “elbow” but that’s difficult to reach.

We can play “Ring around the rosy.” And if we can’t find a partner to make a circle, we just turn around and around by ourselves.  Falling randomly to the ground.

We can dance and sing.

When we go downstairs (feet first, facing forward–’cause the girls refused to turn arond and go down on their bellys), we say “schooch, schooch, schooch, DOWN” and drop to the next step.  The girls imitate us saying, “chu chu chu, DOWN”.   Cute.  They are very good at the schooch.

Tessa says, “All done” for everything and consistently gives the sign for it. 

“All dun. All dun.”

The most reliable, and universally applicable, word we use is “ball.”  Everything is a ball–particularly during the season of pumpkins.  “Ball. Ball. Ball.” Everywhere we go.  There are balls. 

And giggles.  Lots of giggles.

Me and Alexander

Do you remember Alexander and his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day?  It all started off when he went to bed with gum on his bedpost and woke up with gum in his hair!  I can relate to that lately.  Not literally, but figuratively as it has not been a good run of events for us as of late.

Chad got into a car accident a few weeks ago, and while he, thank god, walked away unscathed, the car was totalled.  Also, work has not been going well for me.  Enough said on that front because this is not the forum for such discussions, but suffice it to say that I feel like I’m at the bottom of my game this last month.  Teething is amongst us again with big gnarly fat molars invading the delicate gums of my very young, non-verbal, and consequently cranky children.  We also have many friends facing illnesses, worries, sadnesses and they have monumental struggles in front of them, in front of all of us.  Worry and concern grip me at my throat as thoughts of them wander in and out of my mind every day and night.  And, last night, we went into the basement to get some paper towels and I realized that the carpet was wet.  We spent last night moving things out of the basement and ripping up the wet carpet.  Sigh.  It has been a hard couple of weeks for us.  It seems unrelenting.  And I am exhausted.

And then something happened last night–a gift from an angel.

Grammy and Gana were over helping me get the girls ready for bed as Daddy was at a church meeting.  The girls had eaten their dinner, played played played, taken a bath and they were in their jammies winding down, getting ready for bed.  Grammy was in the rocking chair singing a lullaby and my head was resting on her knee as the girls were busily playing, reading books and gabbing gabbing away.  Then, out of nowhere, Tessa walked over to me, looked me square in the eye and said, “I love you”, paused, and planted a kiss on my lips.

 

If I didn’t have Grammy as a witness, I would not have believed it.  It was a GOOD KISS, too.  Not one of those open, curled lips, licking sort of kisses.  It was really good baby pecking kiss!  And nothing sounding like “I love you” has ever crossed Tessa or Nora’s lips.  Of course, there was no repeating that incident as we were instantly swept up into our books and blocks and the slide and the sippy cups and could not be bothered to say it again…

I love you.

It was at that instant in time, a moment out of nowhere, that I knew that I had been given a gift to empower me to turn around my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.  As these days are too fleeting and do not repeat themselves.  I cannot turn back time, I can only face what is in front of us.  We walked away from that accident.  This job allows me to buy a new car.  Out of sickness there is hope and peace.  The teething is almost over (I think we’re up to 16/20 or so now).  And, I don’t know what to say about the carpet.

But I do know that Tessa and Nora amaze me.  They inspire me.  They bring me hope with each and every new day.  I love you, too, Tessa.  I love you, too, Nora.

OCTOBER!

We love fall.  My goodness it is so cool and brisk.  We love it.  We love it so much that we are already gearing up for Halloween.  Even though there’s no chance that we will get any candy, we are trying to decide on the best costume to wear for all of October. 

 Right now the “Caped Royals Crusaders” are the obvious choice.

First, we get our capes and our hats on.  Thanks for the help, Poppie.

Then we buzz around the room with electric excitement!  Cheese Tessa!

Nora strikes a pose.

 

 Also in the costume running…

“Sock hands”

But it’s hard to grab candy with socks on your hands!

Go Ann!

Ann, we will be thinking of you tomorrow. 

 Here is our cheer for you:

Go Ann!  Go Ann! 

 

Kick some bottom dollars and feel better!

Rah! Rah! Rah, Ann!  We love you!  Feel better!!!

We’re pulling for you AW!

Frankie the Wonder Dog

Our sweet rescue dog, Frankie, came to live with us in October of 2001. At the time, he had been abandon on the streets of Chicago, picked up by animal control and placed in a doggie rescue shelter. He had a host of ailments, including an ulcerated eye and chemical burns on his belly due to the chemicals used to clean the cages at animal control. When Chad and I were looking for a dog we wanted a mature dog, preferably house-broken, who would cuddle up on our laps when we’d watch movies or go on walks in the park.

The doggie rescue shelter hosted a showing of the dogs at a local PetSmart. We looked at several dogs that day and were about to leave when the owner of the rescue pointed out Frankie–a sad little (actually very large for his breed) pup shivering at the back of his cage. At first glance he didn’t have the character I was expecting in a dog for us. He was big and kind of weepy from his eye problems. His coat needed grooming and was flaky from the chemical burns. We took him out of the cage and walked around with him. It was so interested in his surroundings and was sniffing everything in the store–paying very little attention to who was on the other end of the leash. After a few minutes I scooped him up and sat on the floor to get a closer look. Poor Frankie was so exhausted that he fell asleep in my arms almost instantly and started to snore. From that moment on we were hooked. Frankie “chose” us, as the rescue owner had put it.

Frankie was our first baby. He was a terrific, laid back dog–rarely barking and never biting. He loved anyone who would take the opportunity to give him a scratch behind the ears and he loved to have his hips rub–he’d do this funny little “butt scratch” dance when you found the right spot. His big puppy-dog eyes would melt your heart and we was so cuddly and fuzzy that we called him our “love sponge” because he would just soak you in.

Frankie, however, has more than his share of ailments. Everything from ruptured disks in his neck to Thrombocytopenia–this dog has had more lives than a cat. He was hardly house-broken and would often pee (or worse) in the kitchen or other parts of the house. The surgeries, medicines and vet visits have costs us thousands of dollars over the years we had Frankie, but given our resources it seemed hard, almost cruel, to ever deny him the medical treatment that he needed. Besides, only once did we truly take “heroic” measures to save him–and at the time we didn’t blink. He was our baby. I would do it again.

This past year Frankie entered the “geriatric” stage in his life.  It was sad to see Frankie’s rapid descent in our lives. He seemed okay with the babies, but you could sense his depression.  His health seemed to take a turn for the worse this past winter, starting with a skin infection that has spread to all parts of his body, including his sensitive eyes.  His liver was failing him and his body just wasn’t keeping up.  When the girls where about eight months old, Tessa reached out to touch Frankie and he snapped at her.  We were all there when it happened and we knew instantly that we couldn’t manage two babies with an unstable dog.  We found a wonderful new home for Frankie with our loving vet’s parents who have cared for Frankie for the past few months.  This week we got a call from our vet that Frank’s quality of life has taken a turn for the worse. He skin condition has returned and his liver is failing.  It is time.  So, yesterday we said good-bye to Frankie one last time.  It was not easy but it was time.

Frankie was our first baby. For years he gave us unconditional love–I think in gratitude for rescuing him from his old life. We gave Frank a good life and in return he has given us many moments of love and joy and laughter.

Frankie, we pray that your “trip to the rainbow bridge” is a peaceful one where you can run around and eat all the snausages your heart desires.  Say “hi” to Mookie for us.