Just FYI...

...I haven't checked My Charming Kids since she officially gave the thumbs down to gay marriage.  Just couldn't support her in any way any more.  I wasn't an every day checker anyway (any more), but sometimes when I think of all the secrets of a stranger's life I could unlock with a simply URL, it's really hard.  That's it.  Not caving.  Not even interested anymore.  But, just thinking that the internet works in funny ways.

Giant Meatballs are Out.

I know--less than 24 hours later.  But, Eleanor later asked what exactly meatballs are.  The vegetarian in me happily obliged.  Now, "Not meatballs.  Meatballs have dead animals in them."

I'm here at work.

But I need a break from the tapping.  So, I'm just here with a quick update on the kids. 

Eleanor loves me.  I know, you're thinking, of course she loves you.  But there was a while there that she did NOT love me.  Or wouldn't admit it more than once a day.  Now, she cries for me.  She snuggles me.  She falls asleep in bed with me at naptime.  It is heavenly.

She loves to replace words in songs with "Giant Meatball."  Like, "The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the...GIANT MEATBALL."  And then she cracks up.  So, not rapier wit.  But she's getting there.  She'll pretend one thing is another or give me a silly answer just to make us both laugh.  All with a mischievous smile.

Josephine has not yet stopped being obsessed with me.  But she's taken it to the next level with the holding.  She'll ride my leg like a needy child in a movie about needy children.  And she'll yell, "PICK ME UP!  HOLD ME NOW!"  It's vicious.  She's a little more polite when she's trailing friends or family wanting to be held, but just as insistent. 

She is Diego.  Or so she says.  She's doing so well with imaginary play (just like her sis).  And they're even making believe together.  What a great skill set.  They have full conversations and argument as themselves and other people. 

Jo: "I'm Diego.  Diego goes first."
E: "No!  Dora always goes first, because her's a girl and a star."
Jo: "I'm Sigga.  She's makes spicy noodles."
E: "No way!  Your noodles aren't spicy enough, Sigga.  Mommy actually eats cheese now.  Make it spicy with cheese."
Jo: "No, Klona.  Actually, cheese is not spicy, no!"
E: "Ye-es, Klina, cheese is spiiiiicy."
Jo:  "NO, Klona, I'm Diego!!!!"

Yo yo yo!

Hey.  So, highlights:

My kids are awesome.
Eleanor loves school and learning
Jo talks like a seven year old.
I still sice Bill.
I made it through October.
My classes are tolerable.
My work is cool too.
I cut all my hair off.
Then I cut it again even shorter (not pictured).
I officially realized I'd been walking around looking in need of a sandwich.  With cheese.
I started eating cheese.
Onto pictures.

The Girls.

I'm back with a pithy update.  Since everyone who reads this seems to be my friend on facebook.  Or almost.  And the others are people I keep in contact with.

Anyway,  the girls.

They are playing together!  Like, really playing.  It certainly helps that Jo is super verbal.  She is using full sentences regularly.  Loudly.  I know, I say that all the time.  She is kind of hilarious, because she's so little and baby-like, but says things like, "Come on, Mom, we're going to Great Valley!"  or "Dinadoos are a little scary, and they eat tree stars!"  (Can you tell she likes "The Land Before Time"?)  She is also a hot mess.  There is no other way to describe her look.  She's totally adorable.  But, her face and shirt always painted with dirt.  Because she eats it.  (Even though, each time she says, "It's dirt.  Dooon't eat it.")  And her hair is absolutely always a muss.  Mainly because it's truly, intensely, wildly curly.  Like, when it's wet, it hangs to the bottom of her shoulder blades.  (I know, can you believe it?)  And, when it's dry, it is above the nap of her neck.  Also, I guess curly hair is like this, but it pulls away from her scalp immediately at the root.  So, a part is almost impossible (although, it is attainable if I can trick her into sitting still while I comb it sopping wet).  When she smiles she lights up the room.  And I forget not to take her big mouth for granted.  (Anatomically, because she just has a big old mouth.)  Her teeth are roundish and have a gap in them.  So she cheeses in a way that makes me smile every time.  And she squints in a way that always makes me think of mischief.  She smells like her tevas, even though she's sadly outgrown them.  She runs like a little robot.  And when she gets ready to pounce on me, she yells, "Ready, set, go, 1, 2, 3, 5, 7!!!"

They are also fighting.  But that's one of the few times lately that Eleanor gives in to being insanely mean.  I guess it's her way of asserting that she is older.  (Now that the size gap is neatly closing and Jo is saying whatever she wants.)  Eleanor also insists that she is fast and huge.  So, we go along with it, knowing of course that she is tortoisely and tiny.  Right around this time last year, Eleanor also had a great phase.  So, I know this moment is just that--a flash in time when she will be mature and conscientious.  But I know to praise her for it and soak it up.  She helps me all the time, and for once it really does help.  She dresses herself, and puts on her own shoes.  Accidents are mostly an issue of the past.  And diapers are done at night even.  And, in her infinite three-and-a-half year old wisdom, she will even take naps!  It is pure glory for all of us.  It feels much better to me than plunking her down for a movie so I can read, eat, or breathe.  It helps that she's clearly back into growing, eating, etc.  That's nice.  But I attribute it mostly to school.  Although she doesn't nap there, she is tired from it and she knows other kids sleep regularly, so that helps.  She likes to know what other kids are doing, and plays off of that.  She's starting to see big picture items and use sweeping statements and generalizations that make sense.  She deduces things from her environment, which is fascinating.  Of course, she's testing boundaries, but mostly so she can stay in my good graces.  Which for the most part works out well.  And I try to spend a little bit of alone time with her each week.  It's good for us.  Also, she doesn't hate me lately, which is nice.  Because she's definitely known for her nonchalance concerning my presence.  Another way school and my work have been good for her, I think. 

So, that brings me to my work.  I'm working.  20 hours a week at the University.  I mostly write news items, edit web content, and lately have been taking photographs for the department.  It's really cool. (The photo part because I get to use a mega-camera.   Like, the lens is obscene.)  Turns out I'm going to be in school forever, so it's a good thing I'm getting involved in the department.  And of course, you all know I've been writing.  A ton.  I've been tapping at the keys nonstop, and the poetry keeps coming.  Most of the time, I'm only 30% sure I'm at all good at it.  But, I think that's natural.  But, between two 700-level seminar classes (which, btw, are truly a different animal all together), 20 hours a week of work, 9 hours of commuting a week, the poetry, the kids, some editing on the side, and it being October, I am absolutely spent.  Thank heavens for Bill.  And bless his own exhausted heart.  (Between working full time, 14 hours a week of commuting, his fourth guitar in full swing, working with two discussion groups he's started, writing songs and playing music, taking graduate classes, and being an awesome dad, phew, he's tired too.)  Plus, we've got one other big, crazy thing going on.
We're watching The Wire.  (Haha, gotcha.) 

Anyway, I've been saying lately, the only problem with doing all the things you love is doing them all at once.   But, privilege comes with responsibility.  We're thankful that we have both in droves.  :o)