In the beginning

There was Eliza.
Firstborn - creative - irrepressible - smart - caring
She is 12 years old today.
I'm in denial.

You're such a cut up!

'Tis the season for haircuts, I guess. Eliza has been bugging me all summer to chop her luscious locks. I'm not even going to lie, I love her hair. She's got amazing hair; a wonderful combination from both sides of the family. Her hair is thick, shiny, manageable, and has perfect highlights & low lights. (all natural) She has donated her hair to Locks of Love twice. Each time a big, thick ponytail of ten and twelve inches long. That's my secret plot to keep her hair so long; she can cut it when it's long enough to donate. I would be such a waste to let all that perfect hair just fall to the floor of the salon. (and because I can't bear to cut it) I keep telling her she needs to wait just two more inches.

I finally caved. It was one small thing I could do for her. She starts sixth grade this year. Yikes. I *remember* sixth grade. It doesn't seem like so long ago that Ryan Whats-his-face was tormenting me on the bus. Or the fact that I was *so*thrilled* to be taking art class, a class that I couldn't believe I was getting a grade for! Eliza has had her own set of worries. I couldn't help her with any of her anxieties or "what-if's"; but I could help by granting the desire to cut her hair.



Now she says she feels '..a bit more ready' for sixth grade.
Sixth grade. Again, Yikes!

Trying out a new "look" for school.

Oh, and here's what happens when I leave Daddy & Grant alone during "Haircut Time". No, it's not a trick of the light, Grant's hair was cut down to the nubs. That is a 'zero' on the clippers. His hair is so freaking blond, he looks like a cancer patient. I cut his hair short in the summer, but never that short. He likes the feel of it; spikey like Daddy's.

As the Head Turns

So this morning, the kids were all greeting each other & myself with shouts of, "Happy Valentines Day!" and an enthusiasim level on par with Christmas. Don't know why, don't wanna ask. They're all making last minute preparations, Grant is making sure he's got the container of sugar cookies for his class party. Mairyn & Eliza are running around brushing their hair & looking for socks. I gave the final, "Ok kids, bus comes in 5 mintues!" call. We all gathered for a quick rundown of the day before I herded them out the door. Right after this, Eliza slips back to her room, returns & gets into the queue of exiting kids, looking a little like the cat that ate the canary. Her hair is all falling over her face & she's looking the other direction. I turn her toward me and right as the words 'what's going on' are in my throat, I notice them. Something dangling from her earlobes.

**Info update** The girls got their ears pierced about a year and a half ago. The rule in our house is no dangly earrings until 15. (kids + playing = something's gonna happen eventually) Hey, some girls don't get their ears pierced until 16! That's just our rule.

So I brush back the hair by her ears and spy her homemade dangly earrings. Materials used: unidentifiable thin wire (looks like from a bracelet or something; she assured me it was clean & hadn't been on the floor) and a rose shaped silly band.

I'm a mean mommy and told her no dangly earrings & she can wear the silly band like it was intended. And so continues the drama of tweeny angst.

Happy Birthday!

I know each parent says it every single year, but here it goes, "I can't believe how old my child is!" Then they turn around & say the same thing about us; so, s'all good. Birthdays bring a reality check that I really don't want to cash. It marks a passage of time and sometimes, I'm not good with that.

Eliza is 11 today. She is my shining star! I could gush about her forever, which I'm sure everyone is *not* interested in hearing about. Eliza is a thoughtful, patient, caring, loving girl that is my sunshine.

We have a bedtime ritual that originated with Eliza. Yes, many things begin when the oldest child was born. It's just a fact of life. (being first born isn't easy, either) The bedtime ritual. Well, Eliza was about 18 months old and sleeping in a 'real bed', not a crib. She wouldn't stay in the crib; kept crawling out & landing on her head. We figured that wasn't good for her, so she moved into a bed at about 12 months old. The transition went wonderfully. For about a month. Since she was so short, she couldn't open her bedroom door on her own. We'd leave it open a crack. She took that crack and widened it to all the way open & discovered a new world of freedom. Where little girls don't have to go to bed when they were put down, making bedtime more of a nuisance to her nighttime partying ways than anything. However, one night, she wandered into our bedroom right before our bedtime and saw that we were already in bed.

"Sleepy?" she said.
"Yes," we both agreed, "We're very sleepy, we're going to bed."
"Oh, I go bed." and she walked back to her bed for the rest of the night.

Spencer & I looked at each other, could it be as easy as that? The next night, I put her to bed {which was obviously far earlier that we would actually be in bed}. I sang her a song and then added new preamble to the 'don't let the bedbugs bite' farewell. It goes something like this.

Mommy: "I love you, a bushel and a . ."
Eliza: "Peck!"
Mommy: "A bushel and a . . "
Eliza: "Peck!"
Mommy: "And a hug around the . . ."
Eliza: "Neck!"

I hug her then pretend to fall asleep on her neck. She was a bit puzzled and said, "Wake up, Mommy!" I said, "Oh, I'm so tired!" She asked if I was going to bed because I was so tired. Yes, I would be. {just not right now, but she didn't need to know that} She seemed satisfied with that answer, I reminded her to not let the bedbugs bite, bite, bite and I left the room. She stayed in her bed the rest of the evening & through the night. I repeated the altered routine the next night, and by golly, it was magic!

She eventually learned to just stay in bed, but it became part of "The Routine". And I say it the same way for the other chili beans. And she still asks for it every night. They asked about why I pretend to fall asleep on them, and this story comes out. The alteration that is sometimes made is trying to beat me to saying, "I'm so tired!" They say, "Wake up, Mommy!" and try to beat me to the punchline and say, "You're so tired!" I think it was Grant that began that.

So a 'Happy Birthday' to my 11 year old girl that isn't so little anymore! {she's 4'9"!}

A Milestone

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.
~Mark Twain

This has dual meaning for me today. My oldest daughter, Eliza, is turning 10 years old. I definitely do not feel like I should have a child eclipsing a complete decade on this earth. I remember when I turned ten. I mean, I remember a lot of things. A. Lot. Just ask my family, I have the mind of an elephant (and the body to match! ha)

When I was her age, turning 10 meant reaching a rite of passage for all military brats. Ten years old meant that to gain access anywhere on base, you had to have an I.D. card. How proud I was to have my little own mugshot to flash when we went grocery shopping at the commissary. Or if I spent my hard earned pennies at the BX; though sometimes you had to show it just to get in. Eliza won't be getting a military I.D. sadly enough, but she has had many things I didn't. She had her first passport at the ripe old age of 5. And that's late for my kids, the other three had one before their third birthday!

My Eliza. Do you know how we picked her name? Well, Spencer and I couldn't agree on anything. It was either an old girlfriend or bad association. There was a boy's name we agreed on, but the ultrasound showed a little female in there and we were stuck. Out of the blue one day, Spencer mentioned the name 'Eliza' and I actually started thinking about it. 'Eliza'. I started rolling the name around in my head; calling that name out to the neighborhood, asking her if she wants more peanut butter and jelly. Hmmmm. One evening, we were both watching Little House on the Prairie and this certain episode was about Almonzo's sister, Eliza. We kept hearing it over and over and realized that we loved the sound of it! True, that Eliza was a spinster, but I think our sweetie can overcome that small obstacle.

Also, there was the Battle for a Middle Name. My argument was that since I have one, so will my daughters. Spencer didn't want her to have one because his sister's don't have one and it makes getting getting married less complicated. Just three names. Yes, it's true it may have been easier, but I loved having a middle name. It's your special name that not everyone knows! The kind of thing girls share at sleep overs. And whether they like their middle moniker or not, it's something I found special and wanted my girls to have as well. A friend of ours suggested the tradition of giving the oldest daughter the mother's middle name. Fortunately, my middle name is perfect; for me as well as her. Claire. Our Eliza Claire.

Eliza Climbs

Beginning the last week of October, Eliza took a Rock Climbing class once a week. It was a bit of a pain because it started at 7pm. But she's a big girl that doesn't go to bed with the babies. (Grant's words, not mine. And he doesn't consider himself a baby.) Anyway, this last Saturday, there was a Speed Climbing competition. They had a kid's category and Eliza entered. Lots and lots of people showed up; there was a category for each: mens, womens, teens, etc. We had a fun afternoon, Eliza loved it and she won a coupon for a free frozen yogurt in the raffle. Go Eliza!

When you give a girl a camera . .

This is what she does . . .





Pretty productive for spending 14 hours in the car! We all made it safely to Oregon!

First Day of School

All I can say is, "IT'S ABOUT FREAKIN' TIME!!!" I have had kids home 24/7 since their last day of school on April 9th. Yes, I know the date. We left Cairo on the 12th.

The kids began at the Jefferson Montessori school at 8:30 am sharp. We were there at 8:25 am. Spencer called at about 7am to say hi to them on the first day of school and wish them luck. I have to say, I had my alarm set for 7am; my mobile rings at 6:55am.

me: "uggghhh hullo?"
Spencer (nice & perky): "Hi hon! How's it going? I wanted to talk to the kids before they left for school."

None of the kids were up yet, but they needed to be anyway. He talked, I woke up, eating and dressing ensued. Then the first day of school pictures. Eliza & Mairyn were pretty compliant. Grant, on the other hand, was VERY excited, to say the least. We got at least one good one.

I dropped them off and Jacqueline wanted to know where her class was! She was very irked until we got back in the car, I offered to turn on Dora and all was right in the universe. Since I don't have a laundry room, or washer & dryer, for that matter, I went down to the local Magic Suds. I commandeered 6 washers for the task. Jacqueline was very helpful and it all seemed to be falling back into place. Helping do the laundry was one of Jacqueline's favorite tasks. But all summer, we were either at a hotel or just throwing in a quick load when we could mooch some time at someone's house we were visiting. It was a very frustrating summer. Anyway, all went well. The kids love their teachers and I love having a bit of a life back.

Whackity-whack

Eliza has been bugging me all summer to get her hair chopped off. I kept waffling about the whole thing, she has gorgeous hair. Thicker and more luscious than I could ever dream of having. She had a thicker ponytail at three years old than I have ever. Ever! So I told her that she had to grow it just a bit longer so that it would qualify for the Locks of Love donation program. She had one half inch to go. 3/4ths to an inch to be safe. Then I heard about the Pantene donation requirements. They only require 8 inches. Ah-ha! So I arranged with my hairdresser friend to have it cut. It was sad to see it go. But this is the second time Eliza has donated to a hair program. She did it two years ago as well. As did Mairyn. She lost a whopping 12 inches the last time we did it. We've been keeping Mairyn's hair a bit shorter in the interim, so she was far from qualifying. But she wanted to get a haircut, too. Who am I to stand in the way of an easier hairstyle? Really, it will be easier for the girls to maintain their own hair; washing, drying, brushing, etc. And they said they felt a lot cooler!!

Crossing threads

We have to find ways to entertain ourselves. I'm teaching Eliza how to cross-stitch. We found the perfect learner kit at the craft store last week. She kept saying, "Can we just find a kit for 'Eliza' and stitch that?" I was just about ready to buy some aida cloth and create a pattern for her when we stumbled upon the clearance rack. And there was a little kit with a pattern for initials. So Eliza is stitching her initial, E. I remember my mom gave me a pre-printed kit that made a rose when I was about her age. Right now we're focusing on technique, then we'll learn more fundamentals. So guess who's finding the center, starting new threads and doing the "tricky parts"? Me. But she has done a majority of it on her own. She felt really inspired to learn cross-stitch after visiting Nauvoo and seeing the framed stitchery in all the old houses there and that the girls that had made them were her age. So, she's embarking on learning a new skill that I hope she'll continue to enjoy.

Tickled Pink!

For the last 2 summers, I've heard the same plea.

"Mommy, can I get my ears pierced? Pleeeeeeaase?"

I said that was okay and I take Eliza to Clair's Boutique in the mall. And every time, we would walk away from the mall un-pierced. Until today. Eliza got some earrings for her 8th birthday and so has been anxious to wear them. (btw, she's almost 9 1/2. this is how long it's taken.) I was in no way pressuring her to get them done. I answered truthfully when asked whether or not it was going to hurt. A quick pinch, but then it will be all done. Eliza has been working up her courage since we got back and decided that today was the day. Although it almost wasn't. We got there and I could see her excitement deflating fast. We walked in, hemmed and hawed and then let her think, left the store, walked around and then Mairyn pipes up,

"I'm ready. Let's go get my ears pierced."

Oh, okay. That was unexpected. We kind of had an unspoken 8 year old line you had to cross before getting your ears pierced, but Eliza and Mairyn have done a lot of things at the same time. And Mairyn usually takes the plunge first and then Eliza. Alright, we acquiesced to her request. So Mairyn hopped up on the chair, picked out her studs and did it. Not even a tear shed. Then it was Eliza's turn. She wanted to hold my hand and then, once it was over, was quite surprised by herself and said,

"Oh, that didn't even hurt. Just a pinch."

And all day the two of them have been beside themselves with amazement and giddy excitement that they have pierced ears. Many a conversation has been had about what kinds of earrings will be purchased once their studs come out and again, how painless it really was.

A confession . . .

I am in love. I never fell out of it, I'm just deep in it right now. The saying goes that mothers are biased, that may be true. I'm not trying to brag about my kids, I just want to proclaim a few facts! I am so in love with being a Mom right now. I could just eat them. (Yes, all mothers are cannibals.) Mairyn is such a riot. The other day she said,

"Mommy, if we're driving you crazy, what kind of car do you have? Sophie D.'s mom has a Paseo. It says so on the side."

Grant is starting to read. Eliza is just so . . . Eliza, articulate and patient. And Jacqueline is pulling out new vocabulary left and right. She'll insert new words like "now" at the beginning of a sentence like, "Now the water is cold!" When did my pipsqueak learn that? This is quite a comfort to me at this time. I am up to my eyeballs in moving minutia and packing peripherals (hello, alliterate much?). We are down to t-minus 13 days and I am pretty much annoyed and harried every moment. So when my children choose to shine and bring me a little bit of happiness, it gives me the perspective I need to continue on. And to remind me why I do it all.

Overheard

I walked in on the kids watching T.V. this afternoon.

me: "What are you watching?"
Eliza: "Animal Miracles!"
me: "Why?"
Eliza: "Because, it's these animals that do these awesome things! Like this dog hunted down a man that wanted to kill a woman."
me: "What? I think it's time to turn this off."
Eliza: "But these dogs are so awesome!"
Mairyn: "But getting killed is not awesome."

True 'dat, Mairyn. Getting killed is not awesome.

Playtime

The girls plowed right back into school with class plays only one week apart. Each class in the school does one ensemble play a year. Eliza & Mairyn had their's back to back. The plays usually reflect a main focus of study. For Eliza's class, the play centered on the Roman myth Remus & Romulus. They have been studying ancient Rome & Greece. In March, they are doing their residential trip to stay in Alexandria for 3 days. Eliza's part of the play was the adult Remus. She was great! (of course, what else would I say, I'm her mother.) The audience actually reacted and responded when her character was killed. I'm saying that b/c there were other deaths & they weren't that sympathetic.

Mairyn's class had been studying clothing and textiles through the ages. So their play was a spoof on the UK What not to Wear. Mairyn was Susanna. A main part, finally. I know that every mother believes that their child should be up in the middle of the stage in the spotlight. But really, my kids have been relegated to Villager #4 and Chorus person for the whole of their school experience. I think the stinger is, though, that my children know everyone's lines, something they inherited from me. I will post about that next. This one is for the girls! So Mairyn does a smashing job, really brillant! (come ON, how can I send my kids to a British school and NOT be allowed to used expressions like that!) They even had a dance number where they were partnered with a boy! They were both so cute!

Join the Polar Bear Club

I found this in Eliza's backpack some time ago. It just took me a while to get it scanned and arranged in a collage. (yay for picasa) Eliza showed it to me and was very excited. And well, I think it's pretty self-explanatory. Although I don't think she knows the meaning of a Polar Bear Club. I still don't have any idea what this club is about, it definitely doesn't involve extreme temperatures or speedos. I especially like the "almost passed" and the "nearly passed, a little".