Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Rosie



Frankie is awesomely brave. We went the butterfly pavillion in Denver over the weekend, and she got a chance to hold a tarantula (named Rosie) in the palm of her hand. She liked it so much that she went back a second time at the end of the day.

Really, she seemed completely nonplussed by the actual butterfly pavillion. There were beautiful butterflies *everywhere*, but all she wanted to do was get back to Rosie. She also got a chance to touch a starfish, a sea urchin, and a horseshoe crab. The yuckier, the better.

I have to admit that I really like that Frankie's not a typical "girly girl." I mean sure, she still likes sparkly things and rainbows as much as the next girl, but she also loves to climb trees and cuddle with spiders. Her favorite animal is a worm.

I'm digging the tomboy in her.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Meet Bob




Meet the newest addition to my portrait collection.... Bob.

Love him!!

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Pleasant Valley Saturday

My little suburban subdivision is feeling like my own private utopia tonight.

I drove home from dropping off Frankie with Grandma and Grandad, and it was one of those afternoons at the edge of summer where you can really feel the gears shift, opening the door to fall. On the way home, it was blue skies, 68 degrees. Gorgeous. I drove into our neighborhood past the lake, and the sun was setting behind the mountains. The water was sparkling, and the sky was a once-in-a-blue-moon vibrant pink. I had the windows rolled down, and could smell that someone had a backyard bonfire going, and someone else was grilling steaks. By the time I got home, it was cold enough that there was a slight chill in the air (which I love), so I threw open all the windows and put on my favorite hoodie. I can hear the neighbor's sprinkler in the distance, and crickets. A beautiful cool breeze is blowing through the house, and everything is quiet and calm. I'm headed out to the screened-in porch with my Kindle, happy as a clam.

Really, a perfect night.

First (Last?) Sleepover

Frankie had her very first sleepover yesterday and, all things considered, it went pretty well. They didn’t go to sleep until about 10pm and woke up around 6am, but no fights, tantrums, injuries, bed wetting, or night terrors. So, that’s a victory.

The girls definitely had fun. Still, I have to admit that I have really mixed feelings about the whole affair. The mom of Frankie’s friend is the one that pushed for the sleepover and if she hadn’t asked in front of both of the girls, I would have said no. Frankie and this little girl are buddies, but… Oh, man. How do I say this without sounding like a jerk? I don’t really want to *encourage* their relationship. Really, our families are about as different as possible. We live on opposite ends of town, we’re in a subdivision and they’re in a trailer park. They’re super religious, and talk about God all the time. (Not that it’s necessarily a bad thing. I just don’t have anything to contribute to the conversation.) Matt and I are both professionals in our fields. They’re on public assistance. The parents are more than ten years younger than me, and we share absolutely no common interests.

None of that should really matter, I know. Who a person is, how interesting they are, how much they love their kids... None of that is tied to where you live or how much money you make. I really don't mean any of this in a judgmental way. It's just incredibly tough to socialize and have conversations with someone when you have nothing in common. And none of that is actually the biggest problem, either.

The biggest obstacle is that the mom is kind of a boundary-pusher. She reminds me of Cumbrian Ken in the way she’s always trying to take advantage of our relationship in one way or another. She’s the one that got me to agree to wash a load of her daughter’s clothes when their washing machine broke, and then handed over four giant garbage bags filled with the entire family’s laundry. (Including her husband’s underwear. Ew.) She maneuvered me into agreeing to the sleepover, and then at the last minute sprang the news on me that I needed to be the one to pick up and drop off her daughter (40 mins away round trip), because the plates on their car were expired. Then, the little girl asked me that evening if her mom had mentioned she still wets the bed.

Um.... No. That's news to me.

Suffice it to say, I’m exhausted from the whole thing. I blame myself for not saying no, and being way too polite. But it’s tough, you know? Frankie doesn’t have very many friends, and I want her to have a playmate and be happy. She says the little girl is her best friend, and it squeezes my heart a little. But the truth is I just don’t see our families having a relationship. Plus, it’s not like this lady and I were ever *friends*. She’s asking quite a bit of me, without even knowing me. It seems so weird that she would want me (a virtual stranger) to take her daughter overnight, and never even ask where I live. She doesn’t even have an address for us. I can’t imagine EVER doing that.

How do I do this? Am I a bad person? Should I just draw better boundaries, suck it up and let it all play itself out? Or can I just start politely opting out of playdates? What do I tell Frankie?

Dang. Motherhood is hard.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Pied!


After school today, Frankie got to live out her birthday wish: to throw a pie in my face.

It was basically just a paper plate full of whipped cream, but still... Lots of gooey fun. I'm thinking we might make it a yearly tradition?

Monday, August 29, 2011

The Beebs

Me: "What did you learn at school today, Frankie?"


Frankie: (long pause) "Um.... I learned... that... Justin Beaver... has skin??"



Edisto Pictures

I can't believe it's taken me so long to post pictures of our Edisto trip. Bad blogger! Bad!

The trip was, of course, wonderful. We picked the perfect house, just steps away from the ocean. Some might say that renting a house with a pool that's a block away from the ocean is overkill, but I'm SO glad we splurged on it. The pool was one of the best things about the entire trip. After an hour or so of the sand, sun, and humidity on the beach, it felt amazing to dive into our clean and shady pool. Absolute bliss. Plus, it kept Frankie busy pretty much every minute of the day. If we ever decide to go back to Edisto, I would rent the exact same house in a heartbeat.

I didn't take as many pictures as I probably should have. Sorry. But in my defense, it was so darn hot and humid that every time I turned on my camera the lens would instantly fog up, turning most of the snapshots into this:


Kind of like I'm taking pictures from inside the Bermuda Triangle. Or 1973. Or next to an open barbecue pit.

I did manage to get a few good pictures, though. Here are a few of the amazing house we stayed in:














And here are a few of our Beachy Goodtimes:



beach!

ocean!

grandma!

sandwich monster!

waterbug!

mama!

grandad!

shark tooth!

actual live shark!

parents!

running!

climbing!

shelling!

safety vests!

jetties!

deadly crab claws!

sunglasses!

glamour!

sitting!

posing!

gross sea plants that look exactly like Frankie's hair!

palm fronds!


sunsets!

It was probably the most relaxing vacation I've ever taken. We did absolutely nothing other than swim, eat, sleep, and play Yahtzee. Our daily routine went like this:

1) wake up late
2) eat breakfast
3) head to the beach for shelling and/or wave riding
4)  walk home and jump in the pool
5) eat lunch
6) drive to George & Pinks veggie stand to buy boiled peanuts and the pie of the day
7) swim in the pool
8) eat dinner
9) take a quick evening beachwalk
10) put Frankie to bed
11) drink white wine and play Yahtzee
12) sleep
13) repeat...

Doesn't get much better than that. Pretty darn perfect.