karma for laughing (silently, while looking away, so as not to traumatize her further) at ava when she exploded at the sight of a spider:

tonight, after swim class, i was rooting around in the bag for my socks when, you guessed it: a spider marched right out of ava's pull-up and onto my hand. all i can say is THANK GOD i found it and not her. we would never ever ever get a pull-up on her again.

i was pretty proud of myself for remaining under control and not bellowing "mother f#$%er!" in the presence of 14 other toddlers. i just contained my heebie-jeebies and flung it into the trash. then i gave a little shudder and spelled out "S-P-I-D-E-R" to all the other mothers, who then went "whhhohoohhohaahhaaaa" all together.

i will never get over how much laundry there is. everyone says that when you become a mom, laundry increases by a power of 10, or 100, or 1000, but i never really could picture it. now, i can, but i still don't understand. it is all i do. sort, carry, switch, load, pour, start, de-lint, start, carry, fold, put away, sort again (start over). it is ok on one level, but so profoundly boring on another. sometimes i gag at the sight of a pile of clothes to be folded. but i do it. blech.

1. carter has figured out that if you feed rose triscuits from the high chair, it is ridiculously funny.
2. rose has been trying to convince him of this since the day he was born.
3. ava is up to her eyeballs in that weird surreal existence of toddlerhood where dreams and waking are confluent, and her daily conversations reflect this--most notably, she kept asking me about the dragon i caught the other day and why did he like those itty bitty oranges. i was truly stumped for an answer, since i was not there. but this has repurcussions, in that she is a lot more fearful these days. she panicked in dance class today, and would not return. and bugs are just awful. she shot off the floor the other day like a little firecracker lit by the presence of a spider. i tried so hard not to laugh, but it was so funny. not funny, but still funny.
4. she and carter are neck and neck for their physical development when you control for the 2 year age difference--i figured out today that she was doing the same EXACT stuff he is doing when she was his age--down to the appearance of the first tooth. so, despite their differences in physique and personality, they are similar in development. that means he should be clapping and waving soon.
5. their is one exception: he bangs things, and she never did. if he can make it make noise, he will. as loud as he can. all boy.

ava, carter and i are still recovering from our all day trip to plattsburgh on saturday. talk about exhausting. when you live in the tri-lakes area of the adirondacks, if you want supplies, you drive and hour and a half to plattsburgh where all of the big box stores are. so, we loaded up, and drove up there and spent the WHOLE DAY at sam's club, walmart (all of 5 minutes in there, just too much for me to take), old navy, and periodic refreshing stints at border's. oh, and petco for entertainment. it was so exhausting, but i did accomplish some necessary stocking-up. pretty depressing too. not for the kids--ava thought the display bike at k-bee toy and hobby was there just for her to tool around the mall, and peeling her off it took some doing. we finally changed into jammies in the petco parking lot and drove home, stopping at dunkin donuts for some ill-advised caffeine. i still am feeling the ache from carrying carter in the backpack all day. ugh.

carter is pulling up on everything that he can, and is thrilled with it. he also loves to loot the basket of board books, by throwing them over his shoulder. pretty cute.

he is supposed to be big, according to measurements, but to me he seems small. yes, he is in 18 month clothing, but there is something little about him. i felt this way when he was born--he was 8 lbs, not huge, but as many people said, 'healthy' -- or 'that's a good size baby' -- but his little legs were soooooooooo skinny, and his hands were so thin, all of his weight was in his torso and head i guess, and it still seems that way. he is tough as nails--today a little toy bounced right into his face and he crumpled up his lips, looked at me, i told him it was ok, and he just did the infant equivalent of shrugging his shoulders and went back to it, but he is still little to me. i don't know, it is weird. he is getting to be more little boy-ish, and i am starting to see the sibling connection and relationship emerging.

he is still scooting along on his tummy though! i am not sure if he will ever even bother with regular crawling. he can go so fast as it is, it might not be worth it to him. put rose's water bowl in his sights, and he is off lickety split for some more water play.

ava is sleeping very soundly these days--last night i looked over at her bed and she was not in it, and neither were her blankets--i had a brief moment of panic, though i am not sure what i thought might have happened--until i looked on the floor, and there she was in a little nest of blankets, sound asleep. the funny thing about this is that i had just walked into the room and gone over to the bed where carter was, and to do so, i would have had to have stepped over her. it was very disconcerting. i scooped her up and depositer her back in her bed, where she slept until 6 am. good girl.

if carter is small, she is getting tall-- rose actually looked small next to her the other day. ava was standing next to her and was towering over her--it seemed so dramatic. the only other time the dog has looked small is when she was very intimidated by a great dane with a functioning reproductive system.

and ava can pilfer the counter top these days. now everything goes on top of the fridge. (except for wine racks--wink wink nudge nudge mom).

It is so physically exhausting to haul a 20 lb infant around all day. I am in a state of amazement at the general ache in my body, and often think about the sheer pleasure I will experience when he no longer needs to be hoisted up somewhere on my being. I mean, how great is it going to be when he has total mobility and I can relax in the joy of having two children running at full tilt in opposite directions.

I hung up our toddler swing today. Of course, NOW Ava loves swings. For almost 3 years, she despised them, then suddenly she finally recognized the pleasure of having one's vestibular system challenged by gravity and centripetal force. I cannot get her off the swings at the playground (FINE BY ME, I don't need to climb all over everything with Carter on my back), and now that I have hung the swing that I thought would be a great place to park Carter while Ava and I played outside, she wants to be in it. So, now I still have to hold Carter, or monitor his intake of pine needles while he sits on the ground. Pine needles though are not that bad--they are hard to get in one's mouth and are almost impossible to choke on. It is the pine cones and wood chips that I worry about.

Putting the swing up was interesting--we have one decent branch on our entire property, one branch on one tree out of approximately, oh, 1,000,000 trees. But it is conveniently in the play area of our yard, and currently holds the birdfeeder. I managed to purchase 2 lengths of chain at the hardware store, and then basically tied Rose's leash to one end, then hooked a toy to the free end of the leash and spent a good amount of time trying to wing that up and over the branch which is about 16 feet in the air. But I did it. Twice. I had to really struggle to reach the toy once it was over, but it was nothing some plastic bins and a swiffer could not handle. And then I hooked up the swing and felt a surge of pride and independence as I finally accomplished something that has been on the to do list for over a year. And I thought I needed help!

Today was beautiful--sunny and 70. Almost made me want to go swimming. But the water is still roughly 40 degrees, so nah. Both Ava and Carter were dying to go in, even after they felt it with their hands. It should be a fun summer. Especially when Carter can walk.

It is weird to want your child to grow up, but I do. I am anxious for the gap between their abilities to close a bit. And Ava's personality is so interesting right now, I really want to see what he is going to be like when he starts talking.

We were in the grocery store, and whenever we passed someone, she would loudly say "excuuuuuuuse us!" or "Ex-Scuse ME maaammmm" -- but the best was when we were finishing up by the deli and the fancy cheese case and the beer case and I said "I think we are all done, Ava!" and she said at the top of her lungs: "Mom! We forgot to buy beer for Daddy!!"

And it is VERY important to her that everyone knows that she is 2 and a half. "I'm 2... And a half." And then she nods very knowingly.

But my favorite is "You know what?..." I cannot believe that all kids really do that.

Yes, I did answer Ava each and every time she asked about Ferdinand. We read the book in the morning, and that was the part that made the biggest impact (not the pacifist message of the story, unfortunately). If you are not familiar, he sat on the bee because he was not paying attention because he was thinking about the other bulls that were running and snorting and butting in an effort to show off for the guys in funny hats who were there to pick a bull for teh bullfight, and how he had no desire to be picked.

Carter has officially crawled more than moving one hand and one knee. He finally linked the sequence on Tuesday while Ava was tumbling and I was sitting with him on the mat. However, if he is in a hurry, say when he wants to go swimming in Rose's water bowl before I snatch it up and put it on the counter, he still drops down to his tummy and does his one-handed one-footed pull-kick.

Easter was quiet and peaceful. Michaela came to visit and the kids had a blast with her. She helped me with the laundry--just the perfect Easter for her, I am sure. I kept it very low-key: a few plastic eggs with jelly beans, some chocolate, and a new train for Ava's train set. Though she also appropriated Carter's basket, but he was none the wiser.

However, when she does take something from him that he is already in posession of, look out. He HOWLS. Today it was a sippy cup with water in it. I thought he was hurt, he cried so hard. But as soon as she gave it back, he stopped. I cannot wait til he is old enough, and big enough to have a little bit of an intimidating effect. Just one that will make her pause for a moment and weigh the risk/benefit of doing whatever it is she is about to do to him. Along the lines of "Hmmmmm, he might slug me if I take this from him..." or, "Hmmmmm, if I bonk him on the head in an effort to 'crack' my plastic Easter egg, he just might bonk me back...maybe I won't do that..."

8:54 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

9:14 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

9:49 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

10:27 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

11:01 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

11:58 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

12:34 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

1:17 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

1:43 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

2:31 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

2:59 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

3:16 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

3:48 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

4:37 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

5: 28 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

6:01 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

6:47 mommy why did ferdinand sit on the bumblebee?

good night ava

Here is the quote from the book (I found it in the NY Times book review, obviously they think highly of it too):

''Henry thinks the city is a success, a brilliant invention, a biological masterpiece -- millions teeming around the accumulated and layered achievements of the centuries, as though around a coral reef, sleeping, working, entertaining themselves, harmonious for the most part, nearly everyone wanting it to work.''

How utterly magnificent.

Oh, and duh: Virginia Woolf was so very Joyce.

Today was, quite simply, a superb day. We woke up peacefully, Carter went to sleep again around 8 for his morning nap, and Ava and I were able to read a bunch of books while I ate my breakfast (always a good start if I have time to eat AND read to her). Then Peter called and needed his boots for traipsing around in the woods at a property, so we all headed out to meet him. We then got the grand tour, always fun. This was a beautiful old camp, and it was fun to walk around and drool at everything. Ava is apparently learning how to appreciate architecture and antiques, as she walked around the house going “wow! Look at this! Look at this table! What a nice table. Look at this door! This is a nice kitchen.” Her favorite was the downstairs powder room. It was really cute. Then when we were finished, Ava, Carter, Rose and I drove to the Panther Mountain trailhead.

Drum roll please: Ava hiked up her first mountain today. ALL BY HERSELF. We reached the summit without one word of complaint or mishap or anything. Carter rode in the backpack, and I held her hand, and she marched all the way up, chattering away the whole time. This is not a huge hike, but it is 0.9 miles to the top, definitely a long walk for a 2 and ¾ year old. And it is reasonably steep. We talked about all sorts of things: roots, woodpeckers, rotting wood becoming dirt, Rose’s poop, a little stream, and my favorite, why I love her. That was a cute one—“Mom, why do you love me?” That got us started on how she grew inside me, and was a part of me, and I was a part of her, and Daddy was too, and then she said “oh, how?” And then I came up with what I thought was a relatively clever answer and I said, well, remember how you took a piece of red playdough, and a piece of blue playdough, and you got purple playdough? That is like you. Mommy and Daddy are the red and blue playdough and you and Carter are the purple playdough. She seemed to get the idea. (Though her playdough is now grey, apparently the color you get when mixing all of the primary colors plus green together. Not brown, or black, grey. It is so gross, it looks like a big lump of brains.) We had a picnic at the top, and then I planted a bunch of skittles in her pocket for the hike down. Not one word of complaint the whole way. I was truly astonished. And so proud.

Then we dropped by Nana’s house and raided the fridge and cabinets for anything we could find. Pickings were slim as Nana and Da are in PA, but we managed. Then we sat out on their porch and Carter cruised around for a bit. Then we piled back in the car, and went to look for the beavers in the marsh at the bottom of Panther Mountain. They were not out, but that was ok, since we saw them the other night. They were quite busy.

Carter fell asleep in the car on the way home, and we had another hour and a half to ourselves to read and pick up and snuggle and play outside. It was in the 70s today, so I threw the house open and aired it out, always a guarantor of a pleasant mood. Then we did tubbies and pjs, threw our boots back on and went outside for another 2 hours. How great is that? I LOVE that we can have outside evenings now. We came inside at quarter to 7, and 15 minutes later they were both asleep.

Carter now knows how to fling himself at my feet in a desperate effort to be picked up. He will scramble across the floor to my legs and start clawing at my feet and ankles, peering up at me like “PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!” If I am sitting, he can practically get on my shoulder in an effort to get as close to me as he possibly can. I think he is trying to merge our skin together so that he never has to be separated again.

And Ava has suddenly realized that she does not have to tattle on herself. Prior to yesterday, she would tell you what she had done, even if it was a flagrant violation of some rule or another. But yesterday, I heard my computer make its little “I’m awake!” sound, and knew she had been the perpetrator. So, I asked her what she had done. Her response was: “I, um, I touched, I, your com…, I, um…Nuuuthin.” It was as if at that very moment, she realized that my ignorance might mean her bliss. Not so, but is was a good try.

A few points I feel compelled to make re the car locking thing. First, it was not my car, and I had no idea this was even a possibility. Second, I did not lock the car, it locked itself. Third, when I am at a gas station, or anywhere else that involves me being out of the car and the kids in it, I NEVER shut my door all the way. Often Rose is in the car, and that presents a real chance of her locking the door by leaning on the button, or (as demonstrated a few times when I was in the car) putting the car into neutral. But yesterday, I was getting out of one door, retrieving something from another, and going to open the kid’s door to get them. Between the second and third door openings, I was shut out. It was weird, unexpected, and not the product of idiocy except on the part of Chevrolet for having a car that randomly decides to lock itself. Sorry to be defensive, but I have had 24 hours to think about it, and feel a bit ticked that for all of my caution in so many other scenarios, this still happened to me. It is not like I have not thought of the possibility, and taken steps to avoid it. My car does not do this, and therefore it is ok to shut a door before opening another if there is no possible way for a living being to touch a locking button. So, that is my little rant. And it still in no way mars this absolutely perfect day.

This perfect day that is going to end with me reading another chunk of ‘Saturday’ by Ian McEwan. I committed to it, as I noted earlier, and again I have been exquisitely happy I did so. Who knew that I could get so wrapped up in the unfolding of one man’s day—a middle aged neurosurgeon’s day to be precise. It (so far) has been taking place within one day—you guessed it, Saturday. Very Virginia Woolf. And the detail and drama are unbelievable. Not like, oh yeah, right drama. Just the sort of interior drama of one’s thoughts and reflections. Which is handy, since those reflections allow the establishment of a past. The observations McEwan makes are tremendous, and I find myself stopping and going ‘huh!’ at certain passages. My favorite is the likening of a city, London, to a coral reef, where the buildings and structures house and are part of an intricate social ecosystem that is always growing and evolving. That does not do it justice, but it is the idea.

But before I do that, I think I just might read Metropolitan Home, one of my new favorite magazines. That and Cookie, a new parenting mag. It targets a much more affluent parent group (a $400.00 felt globe was featured in the Great New Toys section—HELLO????????? FOUR HUNDRED dollars for a GLOBE? Of FELT???), but it is fun to read. Both magazines fall into the category of ‘beautiful life ingredients.’

And we can all thank Mr. Carter for allowing me to write this long before waking up for a nightcap.

So at 5 PM on Tuesday, Ava had an attack of jealousy over a piece of string cheese that I was giving Carter (as if there are not 5,000,000 other sticks of string cheese in our frige), and so we packed it in and went to the playground. I decided to take them to Lake Clear School playground, which has a huge field and is usually deserted and is reasonably close. We drove Peter’s Tahoe, as my car is at the garage getting an oil change. When we got there, I noticed that there were 2 cars already parked, and a few kids on the playground already. This is unusual. More often than not this playground is completely deserted. And that is one of the reasons why Ava likes it—no kids. It is not that she always wants to be alone, but she does sometimes. So, I even asked her if she wanted to play or not, since there were other kids there and our expectations were not completely met. Well, obviously that was a silly question. I mean, who is going to pick door number one, with a bath and bedtime behind it, when you can have door number two with a playground behind it, kids or no kids. I parked the car, turned it off, pulled the key out of the ignition ever so slightly so the dinging thing did not go off when I opened the door, shut the door and went around to the back to get the backpack out. I opened the rear door, got the backpack, shut the door and then heard the sound of the locks clicking. I was remarkably calm as I reached over and tried the door handle. Nope. Locked. And then the other handle. Locked. And the other. Locked. And then the other. Locked. And then with one to go, the panic began to rush through my blood. And it too was locked. Both kids were in the car which had just spontaneously locked itself. Somehow the rear door triggered this random security measure, and now they were locked in there, with the keys and my phone. And the windows were all shut, and the car was sort of in the sun. I have never felt so helpless in my life. All I could think was please let the people here have a cell phone. I pressed my hands and face against the glass and told Ava that I was just going to run over to the playground and talk to the people over there (about 100 yards away), and that I would be right back. I had no idea how she would react, because she did not know she was stuck, and to her, this would just look like a denial of playtime plus an unacceptable distance from mom. Miracle of miracles, the parents there did have a cell phone, and let me use it. It was weird, because I knew them and had not seen them in a long time, and so my panic was punctuated by pleasantries: “does anyone have a cell phone, my kids are locked in the car, oh, hi, how are you? Oh god, thanks.” I managed to get Peter, who managed to get the garage tow guy to come out, and within 20 minutes the crisis was resolved, but not before Carter had lost his mind and Ava was on the verge. I have to give it to her, she held it together. The garage tow guy was superbly nice, and he had this crazy handlebar mustache that defied gravity and this was a nice thing to think about as her tried to access our car since I could barely stand the crying coming from the other side of the glass. Carter was looking at me like “WHY are you letting me sit here???” Afterwards, Ava had a ball, and so did Carter, and all I could do was think about the possibility that this could have happened when no one was there. There are no houses nearby. And then I would have had to break the window with a rock.

One a lighter note, Ava skied all by herself again today. The first time was over the weekend. I looked out the window and saw Peter skiing in front of her, which meant that he had taken her little reins off. And she was doing great. It is really neat to watch her gain command of her own body. Explaining it is hard, but she is so much more coordinated than 6 months ago. Back then she could run and play and get on the playground equipment and so on, but she was still clumsy. Now, she is aware of her body, and can listen to me tell her how to do something, and she can carry out the instruction. Her balance is really improving, and best of all, she can really do the twist with flair. The other morning, she came into the bedroom where I was putting away clothes, and said “mommy watch me shake my tushie! Tushie tushie tushie!!” So funny.

I think Carter’s first word might actually be Ava. He sits in his high chair and says ‘vavavavavavavava.’ This is really cute. He still is not crawling, but is nail bitingly close. He has put a foot and a hand in sequence, but then he gives up and does his little scoot. He also is figuring out how to give me a raspberry on my tummy, and he finds this to be outrageously funny. It is funny how much I trust his coordination compared to Ava’s. I do no think this is merely a first child/second child thing, ie that I was overly solicitous of her , and I am thinking it is not strictly a gender thing either. I just think he is a bit tougher in personality than she was. He clunks his chin, and he shrugs it off. This would NEVER have been Ava’s reaction. He eats big ol’ pieces of food like a champ at 8 months, and I was still slicing Ava’s blueberries at 14 months. She was gagging on them. He would probably consume a sandwich if I let him. But lately he is just as needy for the snuggles as she was—and he is able to communicate that with outstretched arms or by clambering into my lap all while nuzzling his head against me like a little goat. Very endearing.

I cannot believe it. Carter has a fever, and Ava has a terrible cough. I truly hate this time of year. This is the 3rd year in a row where we have had 6 weeks of non-stop illness. It is not helped by the fact that following a few days of GORGEOUS spring weather, it snowed, and is hovering in the 30s.

I just finished a book titled “Never Let Me Go,” and am in that weird phase of feeling like someone has just left. I love it when I read a novel and get so wrapped up in it that the characters feel like part of my life, but I also hate this weird ‘so what do I do now’ feeling when it is over. This was a book that was dark and disturbing, and yet oddly cozy. It is hard to describe--if you read it, you might know what I mean. It is sort of science fiction, and it tackles a huge bioethical debate, but it is set in the present, thus avoiding the cold, lonely surreal feeling that books like Brave New World might have. There is a book by Hermann Hesse that employs a similar mechanism (I cannot remember the name, but it is about a game like chess sort of, and it is one of the best books I have ever read), in which he creates a world set in the future but the whole environment is remarkably medieval in its appearance. So the reader has a sense of connection even though the story is fantastic, and there is no weird alienated feeling. Anyway, the book was great, and I highly recommend it, even though it gets off to a slow start. It is funny, it is not a book that I would automatically pick up, but I committed myself to it just because, and I was happy that I did. The same thing happened when I decided to read The Darling by Russell Banks. Ava picked it out at the bookstore, probably because it has a striking black and yellow cover, and I almost put it back, but thought, why not read it? And it was unbelievable. Which then lead me to The Sweet Hereafter at Grandma’s suggestion, which was also unbelievable. I guess the obvious lesson is to keep reading. So, my next book is Saturday by Ian McEwan, which also is a book that I would not normally select. But it happens to be on my bookshelf, and if I want to read the 2 Alice Munro books waiting there, I have told myself that I need to do this one next. And no, I have not finished Katharine Graham’s autobiography. It is big and hardcovered, and is hard to read while putting the kids to sleep, which is the only time that I have to read. Anyway, I am dying to talk to someone about “Never Let Me Go,” so if anyone reads it, let me know.

Ava did really well at swim class last night. (Disclaimer: I did not know they were going to be sick today when we took them to the pool). She wore a life preserver, and this let her have a level of confidence that was missing last time. Carter of course adored it. He is a little fish. Ava swam with me for a while after the end of the class, and we did a lap with her on my back. This was very fun for her, especially because she got to go in the deep end, but very exhausting for me. Towing 30 lbs is not exactly easy. We also had a MUCH better day yesterday. Ava was just nice. Pleasant. Happy. Who knows what the difference was, but it was there. Today has been an odd mixture of yesterdays’ pleasantness and Tuesday’s touchiness.

Carter is trying really hard to learn how to clap and wave. If I say clap and hold my hand up, he will clap my hand with his left hand. If I do not, both ‘clap’ and ‘wave’ elicit a crazy flailing of his arms very similar to his splashing in the tub. Last night he sort of tried to clap his hands together, but he had his fingers curled, so they got tangled, and then he was left with his hands in a knot in front of him that he kept staring at with a furrowed brow, with an expression of ‘now what do I do’ on his face. I know it was one of those situations where once you start thinking about something, you cannot do it, but the minute you let it out of your head it just happens. So, obviously, his hands came undone, but not through any concerted effort on his part.

Ava has figured out that if she makes a funny face by putting her fingers in the side of her mouth and pulling her lips apart in that “if you do that your face will freeze” face, Carter will completely crack up. So this is how they entertain themselves in the car. That and Ava gives Carter her Gatorade. This causes a huge amount of consternation for me, since I am not so keen on giving Carter Gatorade just yet, buuuuut….he does like it, and he does not cry. Here’s to Ava and her smarts. I think Carter thinks he has gone to heaven when this happens.

On the other hand, I was neurotic with sugar when Ava was little, not wanting to introduce it, blah blah blah, because everything says that one should always introduce savory foods first, so that they learn to like those, before learning that there are sweet things out there. But, has anyone noticed exactly how sweet breastmilk is? Or formula? One does not have to taste them to know—they are both ridiculously sticky. It is not like sugar is a huge secret. So, I have been a little more lax with Carter. Rather than plain yogurt, I have been giving him Yo-Baby, and so on. And, as I said before, I am a huge fan of the instant blood sugar boost that the occasional lollypop can give. (For Ava of course…I have not yet stuffed a piece of candy in my son’s mouth…).

And to close, a piece of advice: unless you are 100% sure that the item you are putting in your mouth is indeed a cheerio, do not do so. It could be a piece of a pine cone, which I can say with authority tastes AWFUL.

Well, we made it through the 5 days of Zithromax without puking. But, boy is she ‘off’ –she woke up this morning on the wrong side of the bed, which was on the wrong side of the room, which was on the wrong side of the house on the wrong side of the street on the wrong side of the railroad tracks (we really do have RR tracks nearby) on the wrong side of the Adirondack park, and on the wrong side of the country. She was livid over everything. It took a good 2 hours for her to join the world as a reasonable person, and even after that the slightest setback would trigger a HUGE meltdown. And the setbacks were not setbacks, really. She would ask for something, and I would say yes, just let me do x, y, or z, and that would translate as the most unfair thing ever to happen to anyone in the whole world. It took every single ounce of my patience to not snap. But, I have figured out how to do the whole time out discipline thing, to make it effective and yet not a torture session. Ok, ‘figured out’ is a bit strong. I have a new method that appears to make an impact on her behavior, at least for today. Basically, it involves sitting with her while she is in time out. She still screams and hollers and kicks but then she calms down and crawls into my lap with what appears to be genuine remorse. Before, she would come out of her room and say “SOOOOOORRRRRRYYYY MOOOOOOMMMMMMYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” which was pretty clearly not remorseful. We’ll see. She is really testing. She was drinking milk the other day, at her request, when out of the blue she snapped “I…DON’T…LIKE…MILK!” and dumped it out with a flourish all over the floor. Then she looked at me, waiting for the reaction. What is Mom going to say this time??? All I said was “Please go get a towel and clean up your mess.” She refused, and I repeated the request. She refused, and I repeated the request. And so on. A half hour later, guess who won? Mom. It takes SO MUCH patience to wait that stuff out.

But then coupled with all of this crazy boundary testing is some of the funniest, sweetest stuff. As well as some very needy stuff. I know that she would spend the day curled up in my lap if I let her, and it is hard that I have so little time to do that. I try very hard not to let a lot of time go by without a cuddle, but sometimes it is hard. The last few weeks have been characterized by so much separation anxiety. At all of her little classes—tumbling, swimming, and dance, she has been less than enthusiastic, and even last night she quit halfway through swimming, sort of curling up on the side of the pool, asking to get out. Poor thing. And yet, we will get home and she will go nuts, running around the house like a balloon that has just been let go. I am so tempted to just stop the activities now that the weather is going to be a little bit nicer, and spent the time playing outside. We’ll see. I assume this will pass, but while we are in the midst of it, I would at least like to minimize her stress.

I have to say thank GOD for playdough though. I actually made it today. I finally tackled the world’s easiest recipe and made our own playdough. Prior to this point, there was no reason to do this, as making it did not interest her, and it would only mean taking time away from her to concoct something easily obtained at the store. However now she is into cooking and helping, so we did it at her little table, until it was time to cook it. Pretty cool, I have to say. The food coloring was a bit confusing for her, but once I mushed it in well enough, she got the idea. And then she spent a solid hour squeezing it through the little fun factory thingamajig, making pasta for everyone. And she was explicitly thankful. That was nice. Accomplishing happiness always feels good.

The other day it was beautiful out and we went to the Lake Clear School playground and the Petrova Elementary School playground, and she had such a good time. The Lake Clear playground was empty, and she had a blast. Carter was asleep in the car, and we were able to really play. We ran around in the field, we did all of the playground stuff, and she is finally able to tackle the big girl swings—she probably was before, save for my nerves, but now she is really secure on them. When Carter woke up I brought him to the grass and let him play, but he immediately started shoving fistfuls of brown grass in his mouth, looking like a little frog eating a grasshopper or something—with all those legs sticking out, and I had to pick him up. He still does not care if it tastes bad or not. If it fits, in it goes. We then went to Petrova, where there were a lot more people, and when I asked Ava if she wanted help on a piece of equipment, she said no, she wanted a little girl to help her. She then went and recruited a 5 year-old girl named Abby, and they went up together. For all of her separation anxiety, when she wants to make a friend, she can do it well. And she knows that targeting the 5 year-olds is smart. Not only do they know the ropes, they are totally into playing “mommy” and are more than happy to have a little kid hanging out with them.

Carter is on a sleeping strike as of yesterday. I think he is so intent on learning how to crawl and how to use his pincer grasp (though fistfuls of cheerios is perfectly acceptable to him…why work on getting just one between forefinger and thumb when you can get 6 all at once?) that he is even working on them in his sleep. He also has a wicked diaper rash, one that Ava never had. It looks awful, but so far does not appear to be painful. If he would just stop peeing at night and start peeing during the day, it would be a lot more manageable. I try to get up and change him, but it is all just a blur. His attitude is so great though. He just sits in his highchair and eats cheerios and chatters away at me. He is SO close to crawling—he just about has the alternating hands and knees, but still does not have the strength to pick up one arm and balance on the other. But, I have to give him credit—he never face plants.

Friday morning, Ava woke up saying that her forehead hurt. She had a very slight fever, and seemed otherwise fine, so I decided to observe her, acutely aware that it was Friday, meaning the doctor’s office would be closed for the next 2 days. She was in good spirits, and her fever went down, as did the forehead pain, but she would not eat anything. Even Fruit Snacks, which are basically fortified fruit flavored gummy bear type things that have a whole section in the grocery store which I was completely unaware of for years until Ava became a toddler. Now I use them like currency. Anyway, she left a whole package uneaten on the table, which was a sure sign that something was wrong, since I usually have to keep them under lock and key. She also took a nap, and when she woke up she was officially MISERABLE. Crying and whining, and saying that her forehead hurt. She did not have a fever, and I felt silly, but I called the doctor’s office, only to be told that no, there was nothing that they could do for her (I was thinking maybe an MRI might be a good option, you know, just to be absolutely sure) and to watch her, and if it would make me (ME) feel better, she could be seen on Monday. I declined the offer, aware of the subtext: we think you are neurotic, Mrs. Day…and bundled her up and sent her outside since it was the nicest day of the year. 60s and sunny. In fact, I moved almost the entire house outside. We had a great rest of the day—Peter came home and we all walked the golf course. Ava rode her tricycle that has a little push bar for the parent to control, and Peter indulged her in a few donuts on some of the greens, which made me nearly die of fear that some golf course guy was going to arrest us, but the greens survived and so did we. It was so nice, I almost served dinner outside. And Ava really seemed well.

And she woke up the next morning pretty much fine. No complaints about the head, no fever, no worries. Yes, she wanted to go skiing, yes, she wanted to eat, yes, she wanted to play outside. So, we all went to the mountain for some spring skiing on the bunny slope. Ava and Peter went outside, and Carter and I joined them for the send off, and that is when I noticed it was starting to sort of rain. That “did I just feel a drop?” type of rain. Nothing to worry about. I turned my back on them, walked back to the lodge, went upstairs to the window and looked out upon what can officially be described as a deluge. People were running at full tilt back to the lodge to escape the downpour, and there through the horizontal water streaming past the window, I could just make out Peter and Ava at the top of the hill. They got down quickly, and were remarkably dry thanks to helmets and other gear, and Ava was utterly thrilled by the excitement. We packed everything back up into the car, Carter had a fit when her realized he was going back in his seat, and Ava, Carter and I drove back to Saranac Lake. We grabbed lunch at the Lake View Deli, which consisted of an entire ham and cheese sandwich for Ava, further testament to her health, and went home. Two hours later, Ava lost her mind. She started crying—and I mean crying—and saying that her ear and her forehead hurt. I took her temperature, 99.3, and gave her some Tylenol. She then proceeded to cry “ow ow ow ow ow ow mooooommmmmmyyy my ear hurts ooohhhhhhhh ow ow ow ow” nonstop. I told her that the Tylenol would take a few minutes to kick in, but she just kept howling long after I expected a result. Then I took her temperature and it was 100.7, a full degree higher. This was about when she started to ask me if we could go to the doctor. By the time we were all in the car and on our way to the urgent care center, she had been sobbing or moaning for a full 2 hours. We got there only to find that they did not take our insurance, so I took my sobbing child and my angry car-seat-hating infant to the ER. Her fever was now nearly 103, very high for Ava, and she was just a little lump on top of the bed in the exam room. I told nearly every human being that I saw that she was allergic to penicillin. They gave us some Motrin, and within ½ hour, she was perking up. I wish I had thought of Motrin. However, it is probably better that she was seen, because when the very nice doctor did come in and look in her ears, she definitely had a bad ear infection. I reminded the doctor that she was allergic to penicillin, and he put us on Zithromax, reminding us that it caused upset stomachs. Which is an understatement, given the projectile vomiting toddler experience that a certain mommy friend happened to have last year. Ava remained in good spirits through the drug store, all the way home, and curled up next to me while I was putting Carter down—the only hint that she might be a bit under the weather was that she drifted off to sleep next to me, without any fanfare (read:nursing). However, one hour later she started whimpering, and her head felt warm. Then it felt hot, and now it feels scalding. She just randomly got up and circled the room, clearly looking to somehow shed her discomfort. She pushed me away, and just sort of shook until she landed on her toddler bed. After I got her tucked in, I left to get the Motrin. By the time I got back, she was asleep again. I think it is going to be a long night.

Meanwhile, Carter has solved the mystery of the sippy cup. He figured out that it has this wonderful sugary drinkable stuff in it that is like nothing else he has ever experienced. His face was one of pure awe, then joy. Then he would not let it go.

Ava woke up again around 11 PM, and I managed to get the Motrin in her. At that point her underarm temperature was 101, meaning it really was somewhere around 103. At 3 AM, she got up, cool as a cucumber, ready to take on the world. She hopped out of bed and marched straight to the refrigerator, with me in hot pursuit. A bit of juice later, we were back in bed. This morning, it is like nothing ever happened.