the other night, i woke up and something felt weird. i was lying on my stomach, and finally came to the realization that Carter had draped himself over me, like a blanket, and was sound asleep with his head in the nape of my neck. this was a conundrum. very endearing, but how was i to move? i had to, becasue my arms were asleep. i slooooooowly unearthed myself, like a giant spatula.

he has caught ava's cold. i can only remember one other time of illness for him, when he was 8 months. he is really really stuffed up. and he has this odd rash on his cheek--sort of like his sinuses are mapping themselves for me. but he is in good spirits. just gooey.

nevertheless, we went to octoberfest at whiteface today. pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel. pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel. pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel. pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel. pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel. pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel. pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel...

oh, a jumpy thing...woooo hooo! oh, a maze made out of hay bales....

it was upon exiting said maze that ava managed to misjudge the distance between her forehead and the huge plywood entrance that you had to duck under and WHACK! it was a massive thump. she never cries in public, and she immediately sobbed. the mark on her head is impressive. i expect it will be blue and green and yellow soon. we all crumpled into a little ball of crying and comforting, with carter rubbing ava's back and giving her a kiss, while i held her and tried to see the extent of the damage.

fortunately, she recovered, and off we went to the pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel, pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel, pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel, pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel, pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel, pony ride, teeny tiny ferris wheel....

finally we went on the gondola. carter did not like up, but he did like down.

we left at 6:15, home by 7:15, asleep by 8:15. i am getting a LOT better at the evening routine. though feeding them cheese and yogurt smoothies and whole wheat mini-bagels in the car cuts down on the kitchen chores considerably.

as i write this, ambulances and fire trucks are zooming by the house, a very unusual thing on this road, particularly after labor day, and especially at this hour. and to top it off, they are using their sirens, making it particularly unusual--they almost never turn those on after dark. huh. very distracting.

last night the power went out. i was out in the woodshed rummaging around for kindling and wood when the flashlight died. both kids were waiting for me in the dark dark house, noses pressed against the glass, monitoring the movement of the little beam of light. when it went out, i am sure they were terrified, but they were remarkably composed. i picked my way back to the house through the utter monsoon, told them that i was going to turn on the car for light, and everything was ok. and they were fine. i managed to start a fire in the dark, we curled up by the hearth, and they fell asleep. when the lights went on, i eventually moved them back to their bed, but reluctantly. it was cozy. there is a picture at the end of The Runaway Bunny -- where the mama bunny and the little bunny are curled up in their nice warm den--and i have often coveted the coziness in that picture--last night, i felt like the mama bunny.

ballet was today. i have no idea how it went--ava was happy when she went in (with 10,000 other little girls) and she was ecstatic when she came out. no further information was provided.

carter was distraught when she marched off to go dance and he did not get to go. we had been talking all day about it, ballet this, dance that, and when we got there he clearly thought this was for him too. he was running around doing his chimney sweep dance, and very happy. and then the crushing realization that this was for ava. and only ava. he was not alone in his 2-year-old disappointment--there were about 5 other teary kids--but that did not help.

we played outside, and periodically he would go up to the window and holler "AAAAAAAAAAAVA!" -- fortunately the studio was nowhere near that window.

it will be much easier when he is 3, and there are things for him to do.

tonight, after he fell asleep, ava and i had "spa night" -- this is an idea that i got from mothering magazine, of all places. she was allowed to stay up late, provided she read quietly while i put carter to sleep, then we went into the bathroom, lit a candle, and settled in for an evening of lotions and potions. it was a very nice way to have a little mommy and ava time, and she was remarkably open and willing to chat. she did not let me wash her hair, because she likes her ballet braids, but i was able to do all of the maintenance that she usually balks at (namely nail clipping and flossing) with no fuss. at the end, when we were all clean and smooth and soft and toasty warm, we did our nails. ava decided that her right foot and right hand should have pink polish, and her left foot and left hand should have purple polish. she did not understand why i did not want polish on my fingernails, but i finally made her understand that it feels funny to me--like my nails are stuck in a sleeping bag and they can't breath. after that she was ok with my choice.

when we were all finished, we turned off the lights, watched the candle for a minute or so, said our blessings and blew out the candle. a few minutes later, as i was hanging wet towels, i glanced over at her as she was standing in the kitchen waiting for me and i noticed that she had her hands clasped in prayer, her eyes were closed and she was saying something under her breath. when she opened her eyes, she looked embarassed, then she smiled and said "i was just thanking god and mary and jesus for my nail polish..."

did i mention we have a new refrigerator? did i mention how absurdly happy this makes me?

school continues to go well--carter might get expelled before he is even actually enrolled if he does not stop drawing/painting on other people's artwork in the few moments that we are there for pick up and drop off, but other than that, ava seems to be perfectly fine. the difference between this year and last year is amazing.

swim lessons started tonight. it was going to be just carter, but ava decided at the 11th hour to attend, and she did wonderfully. so, now she has school, skating, swimming, ballet, and soon skiing. carter has swimming. i cannot get over how much personal management i do. the infancy years were tough in their own right, but i swear this is harder. we have 6 daily bags that get packed. plus a snack bag, plus the now necessary cold-weather gear. for a person with my temperment -- ie, go to work/school, sit down, start working/studying, get up 8 or 10 hours later when the mental effort is complete -- this is VERY taxing.

but...we have a new refrigerator. i find it amazing that my life could be improved by such a order of magnitude simply by the presence of a large appliance. it says a lot about my domesticity, i suppose, but only now do i realize how vehemently i hated the old one. it was a side by side, and impossible to find anything/keep clean/fit anything in/exist with. now we have a lovely up and down one that makes me smile inside every time i open it. it is organized, clean, and spacious, and it makes every morning just a little brighter.

and it has a water filter, just perfect for little hands.

"mommy! i know how to spell movie!!"

"really? how?"

"D--V--D"

the stories ava makes up. incredible. complete montage from all inputs in her life.

she has a "sister" -- all of her stories happen to her sister. she also has a varying # of baby deer that she rescued from a river where they were drowning b/c there was a hurricane and their mother died (she has not seen bambi) and she was driving a boat and found them--all 42 of them. she had to accept that we just did not have 42 containers to feed them.

she took elements of the "grandpa and the panther" story from Little House in the Big Woods, mixed it with a bit of Oz, plus a little of this and a little of that, and pretty soon there was a story about a panther that wanted to eat her sister but then her sister in her infinite cleverness made friends with the panther and redirected its ire towards the wicked witch of the west who was so bad and the panther caught her and took a big bite out of the witch and suddenly spat it out and said "blech! she is made of salt! (remember--the witch melted, i told ava it was as if she were made of salt) I wanted meat!!"

all this from the back seat.

today, ava had a good day at school. when i got there, she dragged samantha over to me and said "this is samantha--she is my best friend. we hold hands"

then on the way to ballet sign up, she asked if samantha was going to sign up too, and i said that i did not know, and then lo and behold--samantha arrived. i was very pleased with the forces of the universe for that one.

carter has an OPINION. all day, every day. when denied, he gets mad. and today he responded with true fury at me when i told him he could not get down at the ballet place--he whiped around in my arms, grabed a fistful of hair (mine) and pulled it hard to the left, then the right, then the left again. fortunately i have some reserves, because that fistful came out in large measure. i was completely shocked. he is definitely 2.

today, ava had two moments with carter--he did something not so nice each time, though also not so deliberate. the first time, she responded by whacking him over the head with her hand. she was removed proptly from the playground, much to her dismay. the second time, she responded by walking away from him. i told her she got a gold star for that and gave her a big hug, lots of praise, lots of positive reinforcement, etc.

then: "mommy, what kind of a gold star?"

then: "actually, can i have gold money instead?"

some totally random thoughts and observations i want to write down so that years later the kids can know what they were like...probably not all that interesting to the average reader.

ava does not like goat chese, maple syrup, or honey anymore. however, she now likes bananas and milk (separately).

she has these new facial expressions that totally change her appearance--i cannot do them--they are expressions that are exactly her father's. i swear there must be a gene. most involve her jaw, and i cannot figure out what she is doing. but it conveys the message "i am thinking about this and am wondering what your reaction is"

it is weird.

we hosted 4 monarch caterpillars this year, with a 50% success rate. both butterflies emerged on the same day, and both were girls. the other 2 appeared to have liquefied in their chrisalyses.

carter loves daddy longlegs -- DADDY! and he grabs them and carries them around in a pincher grasp, finally relocating them (usually) outside.

if he sees something interesting (usually a backhoe), he says "Ava! ava! ava! ava!" over and over until she looks. if she is not around, he calls me. the other day, there was a sunset that was remarkable, and he stood and called Mom! over and over until i finally emerged from the bedroom, and there he was standing and pointing at the beautiful sky.

he likes to come over to you and take your hand and say "daddy." -- as in, "hello, my name is daddy, it is nice to meet you.."

he knows his letters, so he is on track. i think that while he is staying silent, he is secretly teaching himself to read.

ava seems to think school is an ok place to be. not superb, not awful, simply acceptable. i think this is the year that the teacher may lose some of her mythical status, and her friends might become more important.

she keeps asking me when she can do math, and so i keep saying that she already does, and then we do a little number game or something (we are usually in the car for this), and finally she said "mom, i thought math was writing your letters..." and so i clarified. she is very into practicing her letters. and she has become quite good at lining them up left to right and keeping them the same (approximately) size. but if i give her that lined paper used in grade shcool--the big lines with the middle dotted line--she balks.

the other thing about school is that she has suddenly taken interest in the parts of the room that barely got a passing nod last year. you could have blown me over with a feather when she decided to go to the easel and paint on monday. last year she produced 1 painting, and all of her other artwork was 3 dimensional. if is was impossible to make it into a sculpture, say for example, they were decorating a paper teddy bear, she would stick one piece of tissue paper on her teddy bear cut out and call it a day. the enthusiasm was overwhelming.

but she also likes the dressup box, the blocks, and the reading couch. it is amazing how different she is.

we went on a walk on the brewster peninsula nature trails on monday after school. unbelievably perfect for little people. safe, no cars, no drops, no climbs, just woods. some roots, some rocks and of course, lake placid lake, but manageable. we will be visiting it again. very pretty. and we found a slug.

Nana has been helping me by taking the kids every couple of days in the afternoons, so that I can keep up with work, and this is a true godsend. Several days ago, while the kids frolicked with her, I did some work at home, then went on a mad dash into town since the next day was Peter’s birthday, and with everything going on, I pretty much forgot. As I was driving into town, I realized that I was going to get to go to the bookstore with no kids. In other words, I was going to get a chance to enjoy the bookstore, as opposed to spending the entire time putting it back together again. So, I parked the car and made my way through the municipal parking lot to our small, independent store. As I was walking through the lot, I suddenly had a rush of self-consciousness that I had not felt for years.

Throughout much of my life, all the way to the moment I was obviously pregnant with Ava, I was acutely self conscious. I hated being observed, I hated feeling like I was the center of attention—I always felt that there must be SOMETHING wrong—either my clothes or my appearance or my walk or (if, god forbid, I had to talk) my words (often there was something wrong with my spoken words, since it is hard to talk when shaking with fear), or even just my aura. In short, often I felt inclined to sink into the ground. I was a student that sat in the back of the classroom. So, as I walked across the parking lot, on my way to the store, with no one but myself—no little hands to hold, no little person to hoist onto my hip, no small people to distract me from my own awkwardness—I felt that awful feeling come right back. I swear I felt like I was a neon goliath. A person drove by and glanced at me, and I realized that I was no longer obviously a “MOM.” I was simply a not so terrifically dressed woman with fuzzy grey hair tripping over a crack in the sidewalk with nothing to do with her arms (fortunately, as I needed them to prevent myself from opening my forehead in the course of that fall…) and having a bit of difficulty breathing. It was not a welcome feeling. Not only that, but I kept feeling like I had forgotten something. Like clothes.

Now, there are 2 explanations. One: I am hiding behind my children and my role as a mother to avoid dealing with feelings of awkwardness. If that is true, I am capitalizing on the kids, which I am not so thrilled with as a possibility, and I truly don’t think I am doing that. Two: my children are so inherently a part of me, a very true part of me, and a very secure part of me, that their presence has finally allowed me to feel what it is like to be without self consciousness (of course, that is all lost when they start arguing in the store, but that is beside the point). This sounds very sentimental, and it is, but I also think it is true. Pre-children, you would never have caught me singing and dancing in the grocery store. Post baby, a review of the security tapes will reveal a 30-something woman crooning and swirling her way through the aisles with a baby bjorn hiding all but some tiny legs and arms. And I never even thought about it, until I was almost finished and thought, gee, here I am, making a scene. And then I thought, well, who cares? So, what this boils down to is that becoming a mom has focused my existence on something that is in sync with me. That may make no sense, but it always felt like I was flinging myself through life, searching for some sense of who the heck I was, and without that sense, I felt like I was walking around naked, and I always felt the need to escape. But now, I feel right in my skin, so to speak. No need to escape.

Of course, I probably should get used to holding onto that feeling while walking around without them. Then maybe I won’t trip on the sidewalk anymore. In the meantime, I think I will be sure to always bring a bag and clutch it to my chest. That always helped in high school.

background information necessary for this story: pea = please, and det-do = credit card in carter's language.

we went to the olympic center to watch the junior international figure skating grand prix competition, very fascinating to ava, not so fascinating to carter. this is also where we go for ava's skating lessons, thus it is our home away from home. during a break, i took both kids out of the big-deal arena, and let them run around the halls. we ended up in the not-such-a-big-deal area, where the rinks are not as snazzy, but where we are very familiar with the available amusements like squishy blue (BLUE!) gym mats. there is also a gumball machine. one of the big ones, where you put a quarter in and the gumball travels down a transparent spiral in the base of the machine around and around and around until it finally appears at the bottom. both kids adore these gumballs (i bite carter's up and give him 1/4, if that, and i insist that ava prove that hers is squashed before she is allowed to move), but i rarely have any quarters on me.

on this day, carter ran up to the machine. "eh? mamma? nummy num? eh?" -- tap tap on the machine.

"no carter, i am sorry, i don't have any money for the machine."

"eh? nummy num?" tap tap tap "pea?"

"sorry, honey, no money."

pause…

"det-do?"