Category Archives: Frazzled Working Mom’s Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Two Sides to Every Story

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Her Side of the Story

I do worrywart really well. I returned home earlier this evening from a lovely day with my mom in New York City, where we celebrated my birthday with a nostalgic lunch at Junior’s and a Broadway show, The Farnsworth Invention.

As I turned into the driveway, I noticed all the lights on in the house, lights on in the garage, but no car. I went inside – my husband had set the alarm – and everything was in disarray. The TV was on, the newly bought Christmas tree was lying on the floor. I tried calling my husband’s cell phone, but it rang inside the house. He didn’t take it with him.

I got very nervous, very fast. I was shaking and had trouble thinking straight. Hell, I was even looking on the floor for signs of blood! I was terrified that something had happened to one of the girls. After a minute or two of absorbing the scene, I gathered my wits about me and found the phone number for the emergency room of the local hospital.

I was panicking, my hands were shaking, and I dialed the number. I explained the situation and asked if my family was there. Good news was that they weren’t. Bad news was that I had no idea where they were. Then I started thinking that everything just had to be ok. It just had to be ok.

To pass the time, I started folding laundry. It was the worst job of folding that I’ve ever done (and I truly suck at folding laundry). I watched every car that drove by. Finally, our minivan turned into the driveway.

His Side of the Story

It had been a somewhat hectic afternoon for Papa. They brought up all the Christmas ornaments from the basement. He then went with the girls to buy a tree. Found one he liked, but the place only took cash, so he had to find an ATM. Which he did, of course. Brought the tree home. Got it into the house. Tried to put it on the tree base.

But the tree base was broken. He tried to fix it (looked for tools in the garage, which explains why the lights in the garage were on when I returned), but the tree toppled over.

He interrupted the girls’ TV time to drag them to find a new tree base. They went to Bed, Bath & Beyond. No luck. Sold out. Tried Target. No luck. They’re sold out. Even took the time to indulge Chloe and quickly visited Game Stop, so that she could check out the Game Boy games.

A very long 45 minutes after I arrived home, he pulled into the driveway with the girls. I burst into tears of relief, but I was also pretty angry. He left the lights and TV on, because “it was just a quick errand.” This coming from the French boy, who has always berated me for wasting electricity by leaving lights on in the house. He thought my reaction was completely disproportionate, I think. To him, it was no big deal. He hadn’t been gone for long.

What a way to end the birthday weekend! Thankfully, my brood is healthy and happy. Off to Florida tomorrow. We’ll see what trouble they get into while I’m gone…Ugh!

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Daddy’s Little Girl

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Sophie did not have a very good day today. It was mostly because I was around more than usual for a Thursday, which is her day with our beloved babysitter, whom she also sometimes calls “Grammy.”

Because of the crappy weather, I ran some errands and returned home a few minutes after Sophie had fallen asleep for her daily nap. Impeccable timing on my part. She wasn’t yet in a deep enough sleep not to hear me walk in. So she woke up in a very bad mood and cried and cried – the snot streaming down her face and onto her shirt. She finally calmed down, I went off to do some work, and she temporarily returned to her normal, happy self while playing with our babysitter, and then with Chloe and her friend.

The good times weren’t to last, however. Papa came home early, but he needed to go upstairs to work for another hour or so. Sophie caught a glimpse of my husband before he climbed to the attic, but she’s only two and doesn’t know the difference between 4 pm and 6 pm. For her, it was time for Papa stop typing and start playing. But Papa wasn’t ready to play. Shortly after he had closed the door to the office, she used her little legs to follow him all the way up the stairs. And she was stymied. The door was locked.

She lost it, and cried and cried some more – the snot streaming down her face all over again. She hollered one of her frequent laments: “Papa! Papa! Papa!” But there was nothing I could do, really. When I tried to hug her, she pushed me away. When I tried to comfort her, she went into the sunroom and closed the door behind her. When I really pissed her off by trying to show her some love, she ran into the coat closet and hid.

I chuckled at that move and Chloe did too. When Sophie finally emerged from the closet, she was still completely hysterical. And there was still nothing I could do. So I started to laugh a little harder. At which point, Chloe berated me. “Mommy, that’s not funny. Sophie hiding in the closet was funny. But she’s very sad.” And despite myself, I laughed some more.

Chloe then took over. And she did her best to console her little sister. It was very poignant. But no luck. Not until the three of us went upstairs to my bedroom, and I offered to host a session of jumping on the bed. At that, Sophie started to rein in the sniffles. And when she started to jump, the sniffles stopped. And the first hint of a smile appeared on her cute little face.

A little while later, Papa made his long-awaited entrance. Jubliant screams ensued. Not to mention silly faces like the one in the photo above. Happiness!

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

“I’m a Little Distracted”

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Chloe’s Grammy (my mother) called a little earlier. Chloe and I each picked up a handset at the same time. Grammy asked Chloe how she was doing. “Fine,” was my daughter’s succinct reply. Grammy then inquired whether Chloe knew that she’s babysitting on Saturday.

This babysitting gig is very exciting for my husband and me, by the way. We haven’t had a date night in months. We sacrifice EVERYTHING for our children. We are MARTYRS for our kids. That’s not really true, but after spending countless days and nights, mostly nonstop, with my little ones, a night out is something to treasure. Anyway, the two of us will actually be celebrating my birthday by going out to see a movie that’s not a children’s cartoon, and to a restaurant for dinner that’s not the local pizzeria. Yippee.

Back to my little story. In response to my mom’s initial query about Chloe’s knowledge of her imminent visit, Chloe first said, “Yes,” and then said, “Actually, I didn’t know you were coming.” After a brief pause in the conversation, Chloe suddenly chimed in and explained her wishy-washy answer. “I’m a little distracted because I’m watching my TV shows right now. Goodbye.” At least she’s honest.

Scorecard:
A fulfilling telephone conversation with Grammy: a dime a dozen.
Watching an episode of “The Suite Life of Zack & Cody” for the twentieth time: priceless.
Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Barnyard Animals

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Sophie loves her new wooden fold & go barn. It was a Hanukkah gift from her grandmother, and she drags it all over the house. The toy comes with seven realistic-looking farm animals: pig, turkey, dog, horse, cow, sheep, lamb and goat.

She seems to favor the dog and the horse, and I’m not sure why. She takes them everywhere with her. To Chloe’s bus stop in the morning, for rides in the car, to the couch for her nap. She also likes the turkey, but I think it’s more because she likes saying “turkey” out loud than because she has any real affinity for the poor bird.

Sophie is all business when she plays with the barn. She is careful to lay the animals on their sides for bed. And Sophie has instituted rules when the animals are sleeping: (1) the doors to the barn must remain closed, (2) we must not touch the animals, and (3) we must be quiet. Earlier today, we serenaded the inanimate objects with two of her favorite songs, “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and “Now I Know My ABCs.” I think they all had a nice nap.

She is proud to show everyone who enters the house her new toy. And she is, not surprisingly, loathe to share it. With anyone, including her immediate family members. She is very concerned about their well-being and their happiness. Most amazingly of all, it’s been three days and she hasn’t yet lost one of the figurines. It’s true love, I think.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

The Evolution of Sophie’s Speech

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The ability to talk and to make oneself understood using speech is fascinating to me. It’s incredible that little tykes, barely two years old, with a whole lifetime ahead of them, begin to express themselves verbally at such a young age.

Chloe was a late bloomer. She started to talk after she turned two. We attributed this to a couple of things, but mostly because we speak both French and English at home. Now that she’s almost 7, we can’t get her to shut up. Sophie, however, is another story. Sophie’s first words predated her second birthday by a few months. In the beginning, Sophie, like most children, started to speak one incomprehensible word at a time. There weren’t many words, but she used them whenever the opportunity arose. Rather quickly, she began to increase her vocabulary.

For several months, we were convinced she was speaking some form of a Slavic language. Witness the accompanying heartwarming video of Chloe reading to Sophie. After a few seconds, you’ll hear Sophie’s mysterious dialect, as well as a few attempts to repeat words. This video was shot in August, about a month before her 2nd birthday.

Her speech has progressed impressively since then. She is now speaking in full sentences and increasingly repeating new words. The Slavic-sounding babbling has evolved into an almost perfectly understandable English.

And in a sure sign that we have another talker on our hands, I will share the following anecdote with you. We were having dinner at my Mom’s last night when Sophie, suddenly frustrated by something (I don’t remember what it was), came up to me and exclaimed, “Darn it!” She was very proud of her verbal acumen, and grinned at her own cleverness. But when we all started to laugh at her choice of words, she marched away in huff, clearly annoyed that we were not taking her seriously. That, of course, made us laugh some more. But it wasn’t over. Hearing the continuing guffaws, she dramatically turned around (not unlike Scarlett O’Hara) to face her giggling tormenters and cried, “That’s not funny!” Barely two, and yet she managed to get the last word in. Ironically enough, the rest of us, with an accumulated 150 years of talking experience, were speechless.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Happy Hanukkah!

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One candle down, only seven more to go. As you can see from the photo, the girls were very excited about Hanukkah. We started out the evening listening to an entertaining song about the holiday written and performed by my cousins. We then lit the candles.

It was finally time to open the presents. I decided that there would be a theme this year: reading and writing. Tonight’s gifts were personalized pencil cases and pencils, a little electric pencil sharpener, and little notebooks.

Chloe is definitely her father’s daughter. She loves gadgets. So she loved the pencil sharpener. But Sophie is also her father’s daughter. And there was only one pencil sharpener. There were some screams, and some tugging. But Chloe let Sophie have a turn, and as quickly as you can say Maccabees, first crisis averted. I promptly put the gizmo away in a safe place out of Sophie’s sight, for Chloe to use as needed.

Shortly afterwards, we all sat down at the dining room table while Chloe completed her homework. It was then that Sophie realized that her notebook was different from Chloe’s. Mommy was wearing her stupid hat when she bought those little books. What was I thinking? Sophie preferred Chloe’s because it had colored paper inside, and hers only had lined white paper. When I tried to explain why her notebook was so terrific – that it had lined paper and stars on the cover (Sophie loves stars, and she especially loves singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star”), she made her toddler psycho face and threw her notebook onto the floor.

I sometimes think Chloe is smarter than me when it comes to handling her little sister. Here I was trying to reason with my little girl for the umpteenth time. But you don’t reason with 2-year olds! And here was my big girl, Chloe, who came to the rescue again. She allowed Sophie to borrow her notebook for a few minutes, and what do you know, second (and last) crisis averted. Needless to say, Chloe’s success in appeasing Sophie was Chloe’s perfect Hanukkah gift to me.

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Let It Snow!

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We had our first more-than-just-flurries snowfall today, and the girls regaled themselves sledding; Sophie for the first time.

I hate the winter and the snow, so I stayed inside to (1) nurse a cold, (2) do laundry (truly, I never thought this would be me at 39, but best-laid plans…), (3) belatedly order snowpants for Chloe since I thought I’d have at least another few weeks before she’d need them and (4) frantically try to wrap holiday presents before the girls returned to find me in flagrante delicto (and not in the sex sense, just the gift-wrapping sense).

Sophie was visibly excited about the white stuff; Chloe just a tiny bit blasé – all of those years of experience, you know. My husband thankfully noted how glad he was that we didn’t live in Canada, because it must have taken about 20 minutes just to get the two girls ready to go outside. Imagine having to do that everyday…

It’s one of those dreary, eerily quiet kind of Sundays. And it’s only December 2. Granted, we had an amazing spring, summer and fall, so who am I to complain? But it’s going to be an extremely long winter, if today’s weather is any indication of what the future holds. I’ve been thinking of taking a trip down to Florida in a couple of weeks to visit my ailing grandmother. That idea is becoming more appealing by the hour. Sunshine, here I come!

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Yahoo!

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No, this entry has nothing to do with internet Yahoo! This is a story about our girls’ pre-bedtime ritual, which we lovingly call “Yahoo!” After much anticipation, the movie displaying the gleeful tomfoolery of Chloe, Sophie and their Papa is now available (see below).

I usually sit out this tradition, as it involves a bit of running, a lot of yelling, and some gentle throwing onto a bed – a potent mix for trouble that I tend to avoid like the plague lest someone get hurt. But Chloe recruited me the other day to film the ritual for blog posterity (she was indeed disappointed after I informed her that the original film was no good – her mommy is no Steven Spielberg). Here’s how it goes:

Papa sits on the bed in the attic. Chloe goes first, because Chloe always goes first. After yelling “one, two, three, GO!,” she starts running from the other side of the room towards the bed. As she approaches the outstretched arms of her dad, we all yell “Yahoo!” Papa then lifts her up over his head, and she flies through the air onto the mattress behind him.

Sophie goes next. She’s learning to count and has mastered “one, two, three, GO!” Luckily, she doesn’t have to count past three, because in her world, three is followed directly by ten, which is followed by nine. “One, two, three, ten, nine…” But that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, Sophie counts to three, and starts to run (and she’s really fast for a stubby-legged two-year old), we yell “Yahoo!,” and Papa tosses her onto the bed.

The girls, of course, are bursting with giggles and pre-bedtime energy. Papa is bursting with back pain. But no matter, Chloe and Sophie eventually go off to sleep as happy and tired as can be, and the adults in the household have a quiet evening to themselves. Yahoo!

Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

About Nothing

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After posting 27 different stories about my kids over the last month, I find myself in a strange position. I don’t know what to write about tonight. The kiddies haven’t said or done anything particularly eventful, so following are some gentle stream-of-consciousness (à la André Breton and the French surrealists of the early 20th century, but with a dose of self-censorship on my part – since this is a family blog, after all – of which Breton would never approve,) musings about not much at all.

Sophie did say “love you” at one point a few hours ago, but she’s done that before. And she’s talking more clearly, using a vocabulary that expands by the day. She frolicked in the puddles on the way to the bus stop this morning and got very wet (Chloe never did such childish things). She pulled the pillows off the couch and improvised a bed on the floor. She had trouble falling asleep at naptime, and held court with herself for close to an hour before finally succumbing to her fatigue. Sophie has discovered the joys of privacy and suddenly likes to keep the door to the sunroom closed in order to make mischief without parental supervision.

Chloe came home from school with a new spelling journal. She has her first spelling test on Friday, with ‘short a’ words like cat, man, catch, at and an. She made a lovely thank-you card with intricate bubble letters (and a good amount of white-out) for a cousin who gave her a collection of books.

We told Chloe that she would be having a veggie burger for dinner tonight (it’s one of the only ways we can get vegetables into her tummy), but she is waging a veggie burger strike as I write this. It’s fifteen minutes until bedtime. She may end up going to bed hungry for the first time. I am sensing weakness on her part, however. I think she will cave because she’s starting to groan. Then again, she is her mother’s daughter and she is awfully stubborn. It’s now five minutes until bedtime and she’s still groaning. I’m starting to lose hope. It’s now five minutes past bedtime. The groaning continues unabated, now accompanied by manipulative tears. Almost 1/2 hour past bedtime, and she’s resorted to bargaining tactics. I’m starting to feel guilty, but I must remain strong. Am I to become one of those mean parents who sends her children to bed without eating? Is this the beginning of lifetime therapy for Chloe, mood-enhancing drugs, promiscuous sex? All because of a veggie burger? That would be truly pathetic.

Veggie burger update: Chloe finally agreed to eat about 1/2 of a veggie burger accompanied by pear slices at 8:45 pm. I guess her belly convinced her that she was getting nowhere by being stubborn, except hungrier.
Frazzled Working Mom's Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

Sisterly Love

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What can I say? As much as I write about the kiddies and their “you’re driving me crazy” behavior, there is one thing about the duo that warms the cockles of my heart (I’ve always wanted the opportunity to use such a silly-sounding cliché), and reassures my husband and me that we must be doing something right. It’s their unfettered love for one another.

Over the long Thanksgiving weekend, many family members remarked on Chloe’s behavior towards little Sophie. While Chloe never hesitates to let us know when she’s upset with us (and much to our chagrin, she never hesitates to express such dissatisfaction in front of hordes of other people), she rarely exhibits anger with her sister. It does happen occasionally, of course, but she generally treats her sister with nothing but kindness and tenderness.

It’s the little things. If Sophie covets a toy that Chloe is using, Chloe is usually happy to share it with her sister. If Sophie is crying, Chloe will approach Sophie and ask her why. If Sophie needs help on the playground equipment, Chloe is there. If Sophie is jumping on the bed, Chloe is happy to join in the fun.

And Sophie idolizes her big sister. Whatever Chloe is doing, Sophie wants to do, too. She wants to eat whatever Chloe eats (it’s unfortunate that it’s not the other way around, because Sophie could teach Chloe a few things about enjoying good food). If Chloe is upset, she’ll shed crocodile tears in solidarity with her grande soeur. If Chloe likes a song, Sophie will joyfully dance to it. You get my point.

Truth be told, this sibling lovefest is unfamiliar territory for me. When my brother and I were kids, we endlessly tortured each other. Tickling combined with wet kisses was my favorite method; practicing Hulk Hogan-style wrestling moves on me was his preferred m.o. I am somewhat ashamed to admit that we didn’t start getting along until he visited me at college and realized that his sister knew how to have fun, too.
Needless to say, it’s a good thing those sibling rivalry genes don’t seem to have been inherited by my girls, who are off to a much more propitious start than my brother and me. Here’s hoping it lasts.