Europe, here we come!

Our Big Trip is coming up fast... Friday, to be exact. In the course of twelve days, we'll be in FOUR different countries (five, if I cheat and count the US): England, Denmark, Sweden, and France. It'll be a whirlwind of a trip, but I'm really excited. I really have Matt's parents to thank for me being able to take this trip-- Without them (and especially his sainted mother who'll be living at our house during the week and taking care of  Frankie), I would never have been able to go with Matt. I'm so thankful for both of them.

I'm going to miss Frankie like crazy, but I just can't pass up this opportunity. I'm really looking forward to spending some time with Matt and seeing a part of the world that I've never seen before. Plus, I *love* being a tourist. I'm looking forward to the double-decker bus ride in Copenhagen like I'm twelve years old, headed to Six Flags.

Matt, Frankie, and I have done a lot of traveling together, and it's been a lot of fun. Some of my best memories from my entire life are from the time we spent together in England, Ireland, France, and Scotland. Still, it'll be nice for Matt & me to explore a few cities together just as a couple. We'll get to spend less time in playgrounds and seeking out restaurants that serve peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and more time hanging out in cafes, drinking wine.

Sounds nice, doesn't it?

Toothless

Frankie lost another tooth last night. The rate at which she's losing her teeth is absolutely amazing. It's like her body just decided one day to completely reject all of her baby teeth and is shooting them out of her mouth one after the other like BBs.

I was just telling this to K.C. today-- Watching Frankie lose so many of her teeth in rapid succession has kicked an old recurring dream of mine back into rotation. Back when I was in college, I used to constantly dream that my teeth were suddenly falling out. I had the dream once a week for years. I finally stopped having the dream once I left grad school.

It's back again.

Every night this week, I've had a version of the same dream. Maybe I'm ice skating, teaching a class, performing in a play. The setup is always different, and I never realize that it's the tooth dream until at some point in the dream I feel something weird in my mouth and spit out a handful of teeth. Then in the dream I think... "Oh...Crap. Not this again?," and I spend the rest of the dream trying to hide my missing teeth from everyone around me. By the end of the dream until all that's left in my mouth are my gums.

I'll be glad when Frankie takes a break from shedding her own teeth so I can send that dream back into hibernation. It's super vivid, and super freaky! No like.

Side note: Frankie wrote a letter to the Tooth fairy asking her to please draw her a tiny picture of Fairy Land to put under her pillow on her next visit. Any ideas how a mom might pull that one out of the hat?

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.

Meet Bob

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

Love him!!

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.

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?