Impossibly Pink

This one loves pink and princesses and sneaking into my bathroom to steal lipstick I've forgotten I even had. Or, in this case, purple toenail polish that I should have been smart enough to put on a higher shelf.



If it's not pink or sparkly, she wants nothing to do with it, and it is making mornings impossible on days when we are running late and 100% comical on those when I can remind myself to give her space to make a few decisions. Even if it means wearing an apron or doubled-up pajama shorts. (She justifies pajamas in the daytime by impatiently explaining that they are "fresh" -- not the same pajamas she wore to bed the night before.)

I never knew a two-year-old could be so stubborn as to endure 20 minutes of repeated time-outs just to hit and screech and " You big baby!" her way out of a yellow shirt or spring green sneakers.

The yellow shirt has since been relegated to the bear.

And the green shoes have never made it beyond her bedroom door.

On her best (worst?) days, everything is pink. All the way down to her too-small "gummy sandals" that are, apparently, worth the discomfort.

She is no less insistent at bedtime.

Note the puffy eyes? We settled on pink "capeas" after a ten-minute rant about the "big baby" (her insult of choice) red shorts that are supposed to go with this pink top.

Nor do holidays give us a break from the pink fest. Even after walking her down the street first thing in the morning to see all the American Flags on the fourth of July, and first getting myself and Porter al dolled up in Americana, I found myself giving into pink bloomers just to get our stubborn fashionista in the planned red, white and blue, complete with sparkly "rubes" (ruby slippers).

She even picks through the crayon jar for all the "pinks and purps" before she'll start to color.

One of these twins had better be a (much more compliant) girl, because I've got a whole closet full of untouched 2T and 3T that does not fulfill little Miss Nora's pink quotient.

Stubborn but adorable. But oh. so. stubborn.

...Continued

I promised myself I wouldn't spill the beans on the big Burt news until I had gotten caught up on all the fun we've been having this spring/summer.

I never did much care for resolutions. Or waiting, for that matter. So here goes...

I cannot eat candy -- this is saying a lot for someone who generally lives on gummy bears and Red Vines.

I can't sleep, no matter how much I want to.

I have canceled at least 50% of my morning runs.

I cried at the opening episode of So You Think You Can Dance, thanks to all the big dreams and future-ahead-of-me chit chat.

I am thirsty. So, so thirsty. All the time.

I almost dozed off in a meeting. At work. In front of my boss.

The sleeveless-shirted man who smelled of a hard day's work at the grocery store made me involuntarily gag. In front of him.

Leftovers are useless. I can't eat the same thing twice.

My kids, on the other hand, are becoming all too familiar with cereal for dinner.

And I am pretty sure Andy is one more imaginary argument away from a nervous breakdown.

If you guessed that we're having a baby, you'd be wrong.

We're having two!

Burt Babies #3 and #4 should arrive just in time for Christmas.

Family Time

The daddy is now officially back in town after more than a month of travel. Oh, how happy are we.

And we celebrated with a picnic in the mountains and a little hiking in a lot of mud. Alas, I forgot the camera, so you'll just have to take my word for it that nothing feels more magical than a family outing in the cool mountain air when you've been single momming it for a month in 90+ degrees.

I am one happy lady now that I can finally think about something beyond everything we were not doing at the opening of my favorite time of the year.

And so I return to the blog. Because, while I most certainly was a little worse for the wear by the end of the husbandless six weeks, the little Burts and I were not about to let summer slip by us completely. So we planned a few visits with grandparents and cousins to break up the monotony and pawn off the bedtime toothbrushing (truly, my least favorite part of parenting...besides potty training).

First up: Grandma's house, where the frazzled mommy got to sleep in while my own mama read stories, baked muffins and, yes, brushed the kids' fuzzy morning teeth.

 

The kids also got to play with their cousin, Cohen, which was great for a certain five-year-old who loves to be in charge.

I was the second child, so I may never know for sure, but ever since my older sister took my brand new My Little Pony with nothing more than a threatening look and talk of pinching, I have been convinced that there is are magic powers granted only to the oldest child. For now, I happy to report that, unlike his Aunt Mandy, Porter has chosen to use powers his for good, patronizing rather than pinching.

And as one who has now come to adore her sisters, it is so much fun to see how excited our little people get to see each other.

There's a whole lot of jumping and running and shouted names as they all babble to each other at once, unable to contain all the ideas they've come up with in anticipation of time together. New toys to show off. Funny faces to make. And simple, wild, happy screeches. We love cousins. And grandmas.

And aunts (who have finally stopped walloping innocent little sisters).

She looks loving now, but trust me, you did not want to cross this one's path from the ages of 9-19.

And sisters who remember a time when their mom mediated argument after argument with, "One day, you girls will be best friends."


Feeling grateful for family after a month of repeating "If only you lived closer..." again and again and again.