Conversations with Jenna

Me: "Jenna, what do you want for Christmas?"
J: "A guitar."
Me: "You already have a guitar."
J: "No, I want a REAL rockstar guitar."
Me: "Yours has flames on it--that's not 'rockstar' enough?"
J: "No, I want a rockstar guitar and Clairey needs some drums, then we're going to start a rock band."

NICE. I didn't think this started until they were in middle school, at least.

Hairspray

On Thursday, I kept the girls home with me. Clairey had her 3-year check up that afternoon, and it's just easier to keep them both home--that way, they entertain each other, rather than me having to work with a kid on my lap. It was early, about 8am, and I was lying on the couch while the kids watched the Disney channel. Clairey had a little comb and she was brushing my hair--i was at that point where you're not asleep, but you're pretty much out of it--moms, you know what I'm talking about. It's the same kind of sleep that you get when the kids are babies and you're doing the 2am feeding---yeah, THAT kind of sleep. These weasels still keep me up at night, so I never get a full night's sleep. So anyways, I'm conked out on the couch, and half-pint's combing my hair. In my half-asleep state, I keep hearing this sound: "ppfffttt! ppffffttt!" and I'm thinking, "Hmmmm...what is that?" and "Yes, bacon would be nice," because shit, nothing makes sense when you're half asleep. I finally mutter, "Clairey, what are you doing?" and she says, "Spraying your hair." So I'm all, "okay." Then I think about it: "Spraying" my hair? With what? I run my hand through my hair, and it's all wet. Then I hear the noise and something hits me on the hand. The kid is spitting in my hair, then combing it through.

LOVE being a mom.

Oops...I did it again

And by that, I mean that I signed up Jenna for gymnastics again. You'd think, since both "jenna" and "gymnastics" have such a nice alliteration, that they would go together like peas in a pod, white on rice, ecetera, ecetera. Or, you would possibly think of the old adage, "Third time's a charm." Yes, well, a charm that conjours up images of the devil, maybe. Nah, it's not so bad. Let me start from the beginning. The beginning of the third quest, that is.

Jenna and Clairey have BOTH been signed up for gymnastics. Clairey, because she swings/climbs/jumps off of everything, and Jenna because, well...because I'm a glutton for punishment. Either that, or I'm on drugs. But seriously, I WAS thinking that you know, since this is the THIRD time I'm putting her in gymnastics, surely, SURELY, she'll get the jist of it. And honestly, i'm not one of those crazy stage mothers who thinks that her daughter has to live out her long-lost vision of becoming an olympic gymnast or anything like that. I'm not. Although I DID dabble in the art of gymnastics for a bazillion years, and wanted to be Mary Lou's protege. But i'm not hell bent on the kids being gymnasts. I am, hellbent, however, on them TRYING it. And by "trying," I mean "listen to the teacher and actually do as she says and see if you think it's fun," rather than Jenna's interpretation of "trying" which means, "look at the teacher blankly and as soon as she takes her eyes off of you run towards your mother who's sitting in the gallery and garner kisses and hugs before you run back to your teacher and pretend like nothing ever happened." And I know there are some of you that are thinking, "Awwwww....she just wants kisses and hugs from her mommy!" And let me tell you to quit that sort of smoochy-thinking right now, because you're wrong. Oh yes, so very wrong. You don't know my child. She is only four, but is a master of manipulation. She knows that if she runs to me in front of a million parents and wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me and says, "Mommy, I love you SO much!" that I will not beat her in front of people. She KNOWS this, and she uses it to her advantage. Oh, she's a crafty one, she is.

Meanwhile, Clairey is out there on the uneven bars, scooting across and pulling off monkeys. (I'm not even going to try to explain that one--it's just too funny to let you think of what that might mean.) All this, and only the second class. We go every Monday night. Tune in for more shenanigans.

To my precious pumpshkin

Clairey,
On Sunday, you turned three years old. Three! I can't believe it's already been three years. You, princess, are such a ray of sunshine. You light up everything around you, and no one can resist your amazing smile, or the sweetness of your laughter. Everyone loves you, baby girl, and it's no wonder. Your gravely little voice can melt the toughest of exteriors, and charm anyone. This past year has been such a "growing" year for you--in ability, but not in height! You are so super tiny! Your physical ability is limitless. You swing from monkey bars, jump off tall structures, and run and play like the big kids. YOU, my baby, will be the one that breaks an arm or leg. Me and the sitter have already worked out a plan of what to do when you break your first limb. It's going to happen--it's just a matter of time, you monkey! Yesterday night was your first time in gymnastics class and you took to it like a pro! You looked so adorable on the balance beam, and you listened to your coaches so well. You make me so proud, little one! You are such an amazing child. You bring such happiness to my life! I love you SOOOOOO much (with arms outstretched)! Happy Birthday, sweet girl!

The quick and dirty

Wow...time really flies by. I've been incredibly busy this past month, doing things like....oh, falling asleep on the couch at 330, scrubbing "washable" markers out of kids' butt cracks, and creating birthday montages that tug at my heartstrings and make me wish the girls would stop growing--you know, the usual. On a random note, i've also developed an ant problem at the house. First they were in the shower, then the bathtub, then this morning...this morning the little bastards were on my kitchen counter. Really, now. I hate ants. And they're not the little "sugar" ants--these are the real, "we'll bite you for no particular reason other than you're there" ants. Jenna's the one that found them on the counter, and because it's Jenna, she freaked out. There was screaming and yelling and shrieking because the ants might make a dead leap right for her jugular. You never know.

IN THE NEWS:
*Clairey turns three on September 10th. THREE. Good Lord. She's also entering the "terrible threes." Much like the "terrible twos," except that she's had an additional year to earn patches from the "Jenna Drama Camp."

*There are ants. Oh wait...I already mentioned that.

*Gymnastics starts again. YES...I'm giving it another shot. Let's see if they let Jenna back in the gym.

*"Washable" marker isn't as washable as they say. Maybe if you're sandblasting.

*Jenna turns 15 on September 30th. Actually, she'll be 5, but if we're going by attitude, it's definitely somewhere close to 15.