The Lost Year

Kindergarten started. I went back to work. Josh started preschool. It was a blur. There was no blogging, there was little time for anything other than survival. Immune systems were pushed to the brink, my teaching mettle was tested, and Josh threw up for the first time in the car after eating a hot dog for lunch. He will never eat hot dogs again.

The year came and went. Lucy continued to just be Lucy, but got smarter and more clever in Kindergarten. She rolled with the punches and gracefully accepted the most change the family has undergone in her little life. Josh started preschool, and well, by the end of the year made a little bit of peace with the change. It was a long, long year, and it taught me to cherish the time with my family.

Looking at my last entry, May 2010, Lucy was on the brink of turning five, and Josh was almost three. It was a lifetime ago. Lucy is now six and a half, and Josh is four and a half. Immune systems are a little stronger, school is a little more familiar, and I've gotten at least a little bit of my teaching mojo back. The stories I tell Lucy and Josh are so vividly imprinted, some have become their own memories. My New Years Resolution is to capture these moments again here. The good, the bad, and the absurd - the salad days.

Happy New Year

Feels Like Something Special is Coming to an End

It is dangerously close to being a full year since I have written. I'm already losing track of the running list of ideas and things I have to capture in my head. Just the other day I was trying to remember what Josh used to say as his own take on, "See you later alligator." It took almost a full day to remember my little guy would bid farewell by saying, "Bye, Bye Turtle."

Lucy is almost done with preschool and we've had a tour of her school that she'll be going to next year for Kindergarten. I remember last year, talking to a mother on the playground about her daughter going to kindergarten. She thought for a moment and then looked at me and said, "it just feels like something special is coming to an end, you know?" I could tell it was weighing heavily on her. I sat back and watched Lucy pulling Josh up the slide by the hood of his jacket and thought to myself how happy I was going to be when Kindergarten started.

But now here I am, Lucy's Kindergarten screening in two weeks, and I get it. I totally get it. Lucy was in the tub the other day, trying to make fart noises with her armpit. I stopped and just looked at her and she thought for sure she was in trouble. Instead I jammed her hand into her armpit and tried to crank the other one, my attempt to facilitate the armpit flatulence. First she just looked at my like I was a lunatic, then she laughed and had a look of pure awe in her big, round, blue eyes and did her genuine high pitched giggle. It was bliss.

Josh is almost three now and it is almost unreal. His voice is the sweetest thing I have ever heard, his intonation, the way he pronounces tunnel as "TUnnEL" as we ride under the big city. It makes me smile from the inside out. Josh loves to imitate just about everything Lucy does. Since Lucy's school is studying planets, Josh is talking planets. I'll tell him, "You know how much I love you Joshy? To the moon and back," to which he replies, "You know how I love you Mom? To Neptune." Heart-melting goodness.

I could write about the endless times I've had to yell, "Get off the (fill in the blank)" or "Don't eat that (fill in the blank)" or "Don't hit your brother/sister with (fill in the blank)". But all of that goes with the territory - annoying the crap out of siblings and parents is a birthright I suppose. There are days when Josh and Lucy can't be together for more than like point five seconds, but when you separate them there is some kinetic magnetism that doesn't allow them to stay apart. I believe I have heard that this lasts for the next fifteen years or so.

But for tonight I choose to write about armpit farts and celestial declarations of love. It does feel like something special is coming to an end in some ways, but in many ways it feels like something special is about to begin.

That Mom...

I don't know when it happened, hard to pinpoint the exact moment. Somewhere between being hellbent on an epidural-free birth and against my newborn using a pacifier I have found myself with a two-year-old that regularly wears pajamas to the playground and a four-year-old that still uses her beloved binkie. Before I had kids I vowed to never be "That Mom". Now it is the little things that I give into or let slide that have taught me the most about the important things about parenting. I have become "That Mom".

I am that Mom that allows her kids to get ice cream from the ice cream man when he comes to the playground at 4:30 in the afternoon.

I am that Mom who slept on the floor holding my daughter's hand through the slats of the crib until she fell asleep - for months.

I am that Mom that will bust out the "teacher voice" to yell at older kids at the playground if they are swearing or acting inappropriately. I might even tell them if they continue to swear in front of my kids I will have them arrested just to scare the shit out of them.

I am that Mom that allows her two-year-old to eat lollipops and her four-year-old chew gum.

I am that Mom that sometimes wishes I worked.

I am that Mom that believes the outfit my daughter chose and dressed herself is beautiful because she thinks it is - even if it is leggings, frilly socks and a too-small t-shirt that are totally unmatched.

I am the Mom that lets kids have a good old run around in their birthday suits even if it means the rugs get peed on occasionally.

I am the Mom that allows her daughter to believe that she comes from a long line of mermaids.

I am that Mom that buys the gaudiest, tackiest character themed clothing for my children - because it makes them so happy.

I am that Mom that goes to McDonald's drive-thru to feed the kids fries as I drive so I do not lose the nap to the car ride.

Sometimes I am "That Mom" that gets glared at by other Moms as my kids stand around eating their ice cream right before dinner in their neon officially licensed sleepwear. No, my kids don't chew gum everyday or eat McDonalds french fries whenever we are in the car. I indulge my children probably more than I should. In the end the excitement of standing in front of the vivid pictures of ice cream novelties and weighing the options of a Spidermand vs. a Bomb Pop is not going to last forever - so yes I indulge because right now a little goes a long way and I want to relish in that.

Although sometimes I am the Mom staring. I admit, it is difficult not to judge sometimes. What I have learned is that I find myself still gawking, but more out of understanding and sisterhood with other Moms. We have all been "That Mom" at one time or another. If you haven't then you are "That Mom" that thinks she is better than everyone else and you can suck it.

Goodbye to the Era of Wee Wee

Writing reminds me of exercising. The longer you wait between workouts, the harder it is to get motivated. I can't even believe how many funny things have transpired since my last entry. Winter has come and gone, Lucy's first year of preschool is almost over and birthdays whizzed by in the blur that has become May. Josh is now two years old, he has an official "boy" haircut and is talking up a storm. Lucy is four and watching the world around her with a new wonder and excitement. Josh and Lucy are playing together now more than ever. Josh worships Lucy and she revels in his adoration. Josh has an inherent sense of silly that I witnessed when he was just a teeny little infant in his baby bucket. I will never forget the day I saw Josh's capacity for just plain silliness.

One morning when Josh was probably no more than three months old I took the kids to the library. I was tired, short-tempered and doing my best to meet the needs of an infant and a two-year-old. We had stopped at the cafe at the library for a snack and as I was cutting a bagel and opening a straw with one hand for Lucy while at the same time absent mindedly waving a rattle with a bell in Josh's face. I really was hardly aware of my actions beyond pure motor function - cutting, waving - all physical acts of my appendages meant for the least amount of meltdowns in a confined area. Before I knew it, I heard huge, jolly giggles coming from my little guy. Josh was cracking up at the rattle like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. I've seen babies coo and smile at baby toys before but I had never seen such a guttural reaction from such a small baby. It was at that moment I knew that my little Joshua was going to have a great capacity for silly. It stands true today at two years old, Josh is a yuck-it up, belly-laughing silly little boy, and the one whom elicits the most shoulder-shaking, belly giggles is Lucy. Lucy will just be going about the business of being a nudge when something will strike Josh as silly. This could be anything from a purposeful attempt to make Josh laugh to putting her fork on her dinner plate in a way that Josh thinks it is the funniest thing he has ever seen. In these instances, big sister is more than happy to indulge her little brother's laughter and repeat the action until Josh's belly is roaring with laughter.

It seems like just yesterday Lucy and her little school friends would sit on the swings, legs dangling innocently pleading for a push. Lucy can get onto the swings now, start herself swinging and pump as high as the sky. She is a fully self-sufficient swinger now. It is awesome. Now Lucy is now four and peppers her sentences with words like germinate and gravity. My little girl is like a sponge just absorbing the world around her. She is curious and the things that pique her interest always fascinate me. The other night she was obsessed with poison ivy and I told her the saying, "leaves of three - let them be." She talked about poison ivy and hounded me with questions for hours on end. I lulled my little sweetie to sleep that night with soothing stories about Michael getting poison ivy so badly his face swelled up and about the time I was little and got bad poison ivy retrieving a frisbee deep in the woods. I am almost certain I have never had a more captive audience hanging on my every word. Lucy is endlessly patient with Josh throughout his several month stint of temper tantrums the likes of which I have only witnessed a couple of times before Josh. She does her best to calm Josh down, using a motherly voice telling him, "it's okay little buddy," and scampering off to find his wubbys. As for the temperament of a four-year-old girl, well I am finding that they cry quite a bit - almost as much as seventh grade girls. Tears emerge out of thin air and my little girl is a thunderstorm of emotion that no words can tame. In these instances I have come to rely on my, "and don't forget - no smiling, no laughing is allowed because you are mad." This usually gets the smirk that tells me we can salvage the situation. Other times my attempts at humorous distraction just piss her off more.

In an attempt to catch up on some of the funniest of the little Svirsky's quips - I'll do the down and dirty and just list some of the prime quotes so they are not forgotten forever in the blur that is the beauty of parenting.

- Josh couldn't say Lucy for a long time, so probably at the beginning of winter Lucy became Wee Wee. He'd call after her, "Wee Wee" with a desperation in his voice as he'd struggle to catch up with his big sister.

- One morning Lucy looked at me all sleepy and content as I brought her a morning milk, "you know Mom you kind of work for me," she said. Yep, sure do I guess.

- For a while when I would tuck Lucy and Josh in for their naps (which they both still take - praise (insert your God/Goddess here) they would yell back and forth from each other's rooms, "I love you Wee Wee" and "I love you Josh." This would repeat at an alarming volume for up to ten minutes. It was a loud and very sweet proclamation of their love.

- Lucy was eating her tacos the other night, which have become a favorite and she looked at me with the most serious face and said, referring to her taco, "this is really working out great for me Mom."

- Now when Josh wants a bottle he politely asks for, "fresh bubba please." Yes, he is still on the bottle - I think I am not yet ready to let go of seeing my baby as a baby. Please don't tell my pediatrician.

- At the playground Lucy was pushing Josh in the baby swing and being goofy and making him do the big belly laughs. He was laughing so hard he could barely talk, but he was doing his best to point at himself and say, "Lucy crack up me." It was one of those times when you say to yourself as a parent, this is why the madness is worth it.

I'm sure there are so many more things that I will remember, and hopefully go back to include in my blog. For now I can already tell that the magic pixie dust that is sprinkled among parents to remember mostly the things that make us smile and laugh is working. The winter was long, there were many tantrums. I remember one tantrum of Josh's that literally lasted thirty minutes. He cried, yelled, pulled baskets of toys onto himself and crawled headfirst into walls and radiators because he was so mad. The reason, I would not allow him to throw his entire bowl of snack across the room. There were many days that I gave into outrageous demands just to head-off a tantrum episode. He wore pajamas - a lot. In the end it was a phase that seems to be tapering off. I recall one visit to the pediatrician asking him to define how long a "phase" is just getting that knowing smile that told me someday this won't seem bad. I don't even remember where I heard this first, but it is so true: The days can be long, but the years fly. That's how I feel right now and I am doing my best to be present and positive and relish in the fact that I am fortunate enough to be right here, right now.

Happy Birthday Lucy and Joshua.

Nice Try Santa

Christmas has come and gone in a flash. It always seems that the preparation and anticipation leading up to the holidays builds to almost epic proportions that are difficult to live up to. This year I was a bit more on top of my game, I took full advantage of online shopping and free shipping. I lied through my teeth as packages showed up at our door, "just boring books for Daddy," was my standard explanation. I got a Barbie radio for Lucy before November had ended and felt like I was bringing my A-game to Christmas this year. I wrapped in advance to prevent the stressful, late-night wrapping session fueled by wine and chex mix. I think I was probably more excited than Lucy and Josh.

Lucy was excited about Santa coming and bringing her presents. She remembered everything from last year and was adamant that she deserved a Barbie radio. Michael and I (more Michael than me) liberally used, "Santa is watching," as a means of discipline and Lucy did her best to behave - most of the time. She wore her fancy Christmas dress whenever she could, getting maximum mileage out of red, plaid taffeta and velvet jacket. Josh learned to say, "ho, ho, ho," and didn't protest too much when we plopped him on Santa's lap with his big sister.

We filled our house with Christmas cheer, baked cookies and picked out beautiful, and obscenely overpriced tree. Lucy loved having the Christmas tree and Josh took every ornament off of the lower perimeter, until eventually the tree was dense with ornaments for the top-third, then totally bare on the bottom. On Christmas Eve we went to the park in Nonantum and looked at the lights, drove the sleigh with the weird fake reindeer and mailed our letter to Santa. This is our Christmas tradition now and it is fun to see how things change from year to year. Josh is not a big fan of the snow and his strong will and big lungs make sure you know when he is unhappy with the scene. Christmas Eve night we left cookies out for Santa and carrots for the reindeer and Lucy and Josh went to sleep in their cute little matching jammies, dreaming of Santa and presents. Then Lucy woke up at 4:30a.m.

After coaxing her into the big bed with us, she held out until about 6:00. Then she waited until Josh woke up around 6:30 and then all hell broke loose, but she had been a very patient three and a half year old. She opened the Barbie radio and it was so great to see my little girls face lit up with the magic of Christmas and the unconditional belief in Santa. Josh was confused at first, then was right on board with ripping and tearing - having as much fun opening the presents as playing with them.

After it was over we were buried in toys and listening to the Barbie Diamond Castle soundtrack over and over for hours on end. Josh vroomed his way around all of his new toys and Michael cut, unscrewed, powered-up and put everything together in a furious pace as the kids breathed down his neck. All the planning, deliberating between a Mustang Road Ripper for Josh or a Hummer and the actual morning went by faster then I could have imagined. It was fast, furious and wonderful.

As Christmas passed we celebrated with our families and Lucy and Josh were deluged with more wonderful and thoughtful presents. They were in awe of their older cousins playing video games and Rock Band, with Lucy sitting in on drums of playing guitar whenever she got a chance. Josh ate right at the table with all the big kids, laughing when everyone else laughed - without any clue what he was laughing at. Every now and then Lucy would start a pout because, "she didn't get anything cool for Christmas," because she didn't have a video game. This is what I fear. The magic goes away and is replaced with the materialism of Christmas. How do you combat that as a parent, I haven't figured that out quite yet, but I know it is something that I will have to think about carefully before next years ho ho holidays.

Christmas is awesome. I love seeing it though Josh and Lucy's eyes. It is just organic belief in good and magic that the world needs a little more of these days. A couple of weeks after Christmas Lucy was taking a bath and using some of her new Lightening McQueen foamy soap and shampoo that Santa left for her. She took a big whiff of the shampoo and let out an unadulteradted, "Yuck," because it smelled gross. However, quickly realizing that maybe that was not the most polite reaction, she looked at the ceiling and into the sky and smiled broadly, put her thumb up and said, "Nice try Santa." That's my girl.

Swan Lake Svirsky Style

Lucy and Josh regularly perform Swan Lake for me and Michael. Sometimes it is with tutus, sometimes in pajamas, sometimes in their Birthday suits. It is amazing to watch and always puts a smile on my face. Josh enjoys a good ballet and isn't afraid to add his own moves, including the bootie smack. I think it is quite avant-garde of him. Lucy has on several occasions told me, "Tchaikovsky is genius." That's my girl!

Some Days are Diamonds...

Growing up when I'd have a bad day my Mom would always tell me, "Some days are diamonds, and some are just lumps of coal." It has always made sense, but motherhood has made this oldie but goodie really resonate. But in the course of a day with a three-year-old girl and a sixteen-month-old boy there could be ten lumps of coal to one, sole, but brilliant diamond. Lucy is amazing, every day she does or says something to bring her one step closer to independence and one step further away from the baby she used to be. She is also in constant conflict with this new, independent self that is torn between making her own decisions and clinging to being entertained and catered to. She has discovered her own sense of fashion that is as eclectic as her, she has taken to her new preschool like it is no big deal and our dear little Lucy has also discovered the art of talking back. The latter of which accounts for the coal.

Lucy's first day of school went off without a hitch. She woke up buzzing with excitement about the day and eagerly found her cube and hung up her Dora backpack. She found the dress up clothes right away and within seconds had on butterfly wings as she explored the playhouse. Michael, Josh and I hung out for a few minutes, clearly not needed by Lucy but enjoying watching our little girl have such a positive reaction to her new school. Three days a week we pack up and head out to school and three days a week Josh wreaks havoc on the Co-op for the five seconds we are in there dropping off Lucy. He climbs into her classmates cubbies, waves big goopy paint brushes loaded with paint around making a mess and tips over the tiniest little things that are out for the big kids to work on fine motor skills. He is in full Budzilla mode and as I run after him cleaning up and rushing out, Lucy barely acknowledges us as she has already settled into an activity.

Lucy's indepencence has gotten more pronounced since she started school. She insists she can go to the potty without help, peeking out the door and yelling that she doesn't need any help as she sits on her perch. She "flips and dips" to get her coat on and is hell-on-wheels on her Princess scooter. Lucy's new sense of independence has also manifested itself in her sense of fashion. She has decided that she loves to wear dresses, particularly fluffy party dresses with her silver sparkly shoes. There is one particular summer, uber-fluffy dress that she loves that she now wears with a shirt under it for the colder weather. She wore it last week and her teacher told me how careful she was not to get any paint on it, apparently she didn't see Lucy sliding down the dirty ramp on the playground face first.

"It's fair," is Lucy's favorite new backtalk phrase. It is funny because she has it so wrong, and she will be absolutely pissed out of her gourd about something and with angry tears in her red little face she yell, "It's fair," with all her might. She also gets this hysterical, spazzy, out-of-control laughter that only means big trouble. She'll be crazy doing something she's not supposed to and then you'll tell her to stop and she gets the hyper, I'm not listening - I'm only getting more out of control laugh. It is so irritating. There are days when I feel like she is in time-out every ten seconds. I also feel like I am threating to take away privliges left and right. Last week I actually told her that if she didn't stop doing something I was going to not only take her Barbie Pegasus DVD and throw it out the window, but throw it out the window AND run it over. Not my proudest parenting moment, but she was being just plain obnoxious. Definitely a coal moment.

Over the weekend we went to a fall fair. They had all kinds of little rides and Lucy was so excited. She held onto her little ream of tickets and patiently waited for the rides. It was a brisk and cold fall day and she had her big puffy down jacket and her too tight hat and mittens from last winter. On one ride she found how to honk the horn and did so for almost the entire ride. She was just so pleased with herself and had not idea how loud and annoying the horn was to everyone else but Michael and I. She insisted on going into the big inflatable, bouncy fairytale shoe and proceeded to get stuck at the top of the slide. Thankfully the nice little teenager working the tickets climbed up to rescue her and send her down the slide, saving Michael or I the embarassment of deflating the shoe in a rescue mission. Even after getting stuck Lucy bounded out telling us how much she liked the slide part of the ride. Josh was just really mad he couldn't go on any rides, so Michael took him to watch the music while Lucy had her fun on the rides. She rode the train and I sat and watched my little girl go round and round on the tiny, little track. Everytime she'd be on the straightaway heading towards me she'd wave and tilt her head back so she could see from under her hat the was almost entirely covering her eyes. The sun was shining, the leaves were on fire and my little girl looked so excited and proud as she sought out my face. She looked like she thought she was the coolest girl on the world, riding her train, waving to her Mom. That was a diamond.