Walt Disney Was a Sick, Sick Man.

This morning on the news, they were talking about sad movies*, which of course necessitated showing some of the most gut-wrenching clips in movie history.

And you know how, when you were little, it was really sad and kind of scary when Bambi's mom died?

Yeah.  Try watching it after you have kids, when he's wandering in the snow and calling for his mom, and you know she's not coming.  I DEFY you to sit through that without wanting to curl up in the fetal position and vomit for awhile.

*I don't actually know the point of the story, because before they could get to it, they started showing Debra Winger saying good bye to her sons, and I had a psychotic break.

5

Remember when I was pregnant, and every time I posted an update, I was all, "ZOMG, I know this will shock you, but this pregnancy is SO DIFFERENT from the first one!!"  And eventually, you were all like, "yeah, DUH, you've mentioned that before"?? 

The new theme is "WTF, how has it been X many months already?!?!?"  Because, seriously, wtf, this kid's first year is flying by at the speed of light.  And I know I keep saying this, but how on EARTH has it been five months?  That's almost half a year!

We had another big month around here.  Katie started eating peas, along with her cereal (and her secret watermelon), which she seems to like so far.  Our girls are eaters, what can I say?  She's starting to tripod sit, although she still refuses to roll from her back to her tummy.  She's started doing That Thing Gracie used to do with towels, blankets, random you-name-it fabrics, where she pores over them as if they hold the secrets of the universe.

She took her first trip to the beach!  She did not like Lake Michigan.  Maybe she shares my utter disgust with natural bodies of water?  Smart girl.

She does not sleep.  Ever.  Well, ok, no.  She does okay overnight.  She wakes up two or three times, and at least once a night pulls a total Gracie and stays awake for an hour, hour and a half, like it's time to party.  She will occasionally sleep past 6, which is awfully nice.  She does not, however, nap.  This weekend she took no naps at all, unless you count sleeping in the car or the twenty minutes on my chest (which I do not).  A typical nap is half an hour long.  Forty five minutes is great.  An hour is unheard of anymore.  But eh, we don't make babies that sleep, and once they hit toddlerhood, they generally do okay.  It's more frustrating when she's crabby as a result- for the last few days, she's been so overtired, it's like having a colicky newborn all over again, with the constant walking, the screaming every time we sit down, needing to be singing and playing with her and giving her 100% of our attention.  But this, too, shall pass.  Right?  Yeah.  it's all good.

The thing is, I don't have that much to say that's terribly interesting.  She's adorable and dimply and she likes to eat and play with her feet and doesn't like to sleep or play by herself and her big sister loves her like crazy and she's just awesome and even though it's only been five months, she must have always been here somehow, because I don't know what we ever did without her.

Gratuitious Gracie Shots

it's the damndest thing, she covers her face and she's GONE.

Ah-PRISE!!!

"NO, Mama.  I not want say cheese anymore."

CHEESE!! (just seconds after the previous picture.  She's a waffler, that one.)

Rolls

Check out that chub.  I took that picture because, for an entire year, before and after she was born, those rolls were 100% courtesy of moi.  It's kind of an amazing, crazy feeling.  I just wanted photographic evidence.

Now, though, we've started oatmeal.  And, I mean, just a few bites every night, so it's not like that is really packing on the pounds or anything.

She took to the spoon really well.  I was so sure she wasn't ready, that we'd try once, shrug and say, okay, maybe next month.  But she ate every last morsel with no tongue thrusting and only minimal loss of oaty goodness.

As you can see, she was a big fan.  Soooo, we're officially on solids.  For the first few weeks, it's just oats at dinnertime, and we'll ramp it up from there.

I, uh, may or may not have cheated on that....

But come on!  Watermelon season doesn't last forever!  And I am not made of stone.  Watermelon was an even bigger hit than oatmeal.  I know, you're shocked.

I Made Gwammy!!

Yesterday, getting ready for naptime, I ran some of Grace's stuffed animals upstairs while she played downstairs.  When I got back downstairs, she said, "I made Gwammy!!" 

....huh?  Gracie's speech is still frequently unintelligible, but I knew what she was saying here, and she was saying she made Grammy (excuse me, Gwammy).  Since that made, um, zero sense, I just smiled and said, "Okay!!" (as I frequently do when I have no earthly idea what the kid is talking about.) (Mother of the Year!!) 

She persisted in saying it, even after I'd acknowledged her, which is also not unusual, but then she grabbed me and dragged me back to the windows in the dining room.  This is what I saw:

I'll be damned.  She made Grammy.

Grace approaches the world at her own pace.  She rarely does anything ahead of schedule.  It doesn't matter, for the most part.  I know it doesn't.  But seeing her draw a face at 2.5 years old, even though I KNOW she was taught how to do it by her retired-teacher Grammy?  I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty cool.  While we were still standing there, she picked up the crayon and said, "Oop-ees, pants!  onnnnne pants, twoooo pants!"  and drew legs.  And my head, she exploded.

Now the only issue is getting her to stop drawing on the damn windows.

It MOSTLY works, though

For the most part, this is going well.  It really is.

But there are still days that suck so very, very hard, that there is just flat-out no way I'm going to enjoy them.  There's not a chance in hell I"ll look back on them fondly, or wish I'd enjoyed them more. 

Today is one of those days.  Not even for any terribly interesting or unique reasons, just because my younger child has decided that mom can sleep when she's dead, but of course, that means my youngest child is not sleeping, and let's just say she's not going to win any personality contests right about now (though she could TOTALLY win a screaming contest) and I am exhausted and worn down and I've just had it.

I'm really completely cool with wishing today away.  I just wish it, you know, worked.

Ghosts and Gardens

I've recently decided our house is haunted by the previous owner.

Yeah. I know. But I'm serious!

The couple who sold us this house left voluntarily, but not happily. It was just too much house for them anymore. It's not a big house, but it's over a hundred years old, and the age shows. The neighborhood is not easy for an older couple. Their son lives in the far suburbs. Etc etc. After they'd moved out, I saw the woman drive past our house. She did not park in front of our next-door neighbor and head in for a visit. She just...kept driving. It was creepy and sad. Anyhow, about a year ago, she died at the neighbor's house after a medical procedure. Around the same time, though I didn't make the connection then, I started feel incredibly, unpleasantly uneasy when I need to go in Grace's room in the middle of the night. I always expect to see someone standing in the corner. I never, ever used to feel like that. I kind of chalked it up to my overactive imagination and ridiculousness and left it at that. It's a reasonable enough explanation.

A few nights ago, Grace was crying in the middle of the night. I opened the door to her room and it was pitch black- her nightlight had been turned off. It's not unheard of for her to play with it, but she never leaves it turned off. Weird, but...okay.

Last night, Katie woke up at 2:20 and decided it was play time (my children really enjoy this particular trick. do I even need to tell you that I do not?). I was desperately tired and trying everything to get her back to sleep. I went to look for a paci, which I knew would not work, but again: desperate. I keep one on the nightstand and one in her crib. I could not find either one. Because I am nothing if not eminently rational (especially in the middle of the night), I called the previous owner a nasty name and told her that if she didn't cut that shit out, I would call a priest to expel her from the house. (This is where half of you think I'm kidding, and half of you absolutely know that I'm not.) (to the latter half: thanks for being friends with me anyway.) This morning, I found the paci on the floor in the hall, up against the baby gate, underneath a sweatshirt I'd flung over it. It is possible that Katie had grabbed it and dropped it on the way from her room to my room. But not very likely. (This is where you all roll your eyes and say, "yes, Kathy, and a ghost is soooo likely." I KNOW.)  And I keep forgetting to mention this last part: I got so frustrated, I wrapped Katie up, put her in her crib, turned on the aquarium, and told her to go to sleep.  I went back to bed and woke up an hour later, totally shocked- she actually fell asleep.  She is entirely incapable of falling asleep on her own from a wide-awake state.  PREVIOUS OWNER TOTES HELPED HER TO SLEEP.

I shared my suspicions with Stephen this morning, and he gave me the look he saves for special occasions, when I do things like crying over Susan Boyle's "Britain's Got Talent" audition, or suggesting we name our child Adele. (I still like that name, for the record.)

So anyway. I know it's unlikely. But I also know what I believe.

******

Gracie has been REALLY interested in the garden this summer.  Mostly because she likes to take the hose and make mud pits in the corners, and as we've covered, she really, really loves mud.  She also likes to pick flowers, which shows me what a huge tactical error it was, planting the zinnias right at the front.

Today she started calling the bigger blooms "mama fowrs" and the smaller blooms "baby fowrs", which is cute enough by itself, but when she started pushing the blooms together and making them kiss, it veered into head-exploding territory.

We planted seeds together, too.  Beets and mesclun and lots of flowers.  She had tons of fun, picking the right spot, covering the seeds with dirt, and "pat pat pat!"ing the dirt on top of them.  Probably most of them won't do anything, due to a combination of bad timing, being planted too deep, and having the dirt packed too hard on top, but ask me if I care.  She was actually really good at watering them afterwards, even shaking the hose back and forth to keep puddles from forming.

One of these days, I'll actually bring my camera outside so I can stop posting all these janky cell phone pics, but until then, behold: early onion, held by inexplicably grown-up child.

I'd say we're having a pretty good summer so far.  Ghosts and all.