Sometimes you get a grounder, other times it's a grand slam.

Being a parent isn't easy. No one ever said it would be. It is one of the most challenging, and sometimes unrewarding things you can do, and you never quite know if you're doing it right. Most of us strive to help our children grow into the adults we wish we were the best adults they can be.

Why am I waxing poetic on this? Because yesterday I felt like I hit a grand slam. Not a grounder, not a base hit, not even a homerun, but a bonified grand slam. Most of you know that things have been tight here, and I've been losing hours at work. Recently this means that we're cutting back on some of the "necessities" of life like vacations, summer camps for the kids, science classes, and art classes. We've also been scrimping to find money to pay utility bills, rent, and for car repairs. Amazingly, none of my kids have complained about all this, though Sam and Riley have been packing their bags for Disneyland for over a week now. I've been trying to explain to them that we are not going, but I don't think they quite get it. They offered to give me the money from their coin banks to pay for the trip. So sweet, but I'm digressing. Back to the topic at hand.

Yesterday, on Facebook, my oldest posted a message saying she was doing something nice for her Mommy. In my mind I thought this meant she was going to dye her hair back to a uniform color, she got some shirts that covered a bit more of her skin, or that she was bringing me something simple like a piece of dark chocolate. Boy was I surprised when I found out what she had done. She had taken our car in to the shop on her time, and with her own money, and had the brakes repaired. I know she probably wanted a bigger response than what she got when she arrived home, but I didn't want to get all sappy and cry on her, so I thought I'd write it here instead. This was a fabulous thing for her to do, and really makes me feel like some of my parenting might be paying off. Or could it just be that she got here on her own? Either way, I'm very proud, pleased, and happy with her, and not just because I have brakes again, but because of the wonderfulness of her kind act and her thoughtfulness for another person. Thank you sweetie. I love you.

All I want for Christmas...

Despite all my fears of not being ready Sam did indeed lose her first tooth. Not only did she lose her first tooth, but 2 days later she lost her second tooth. By lost, I mean lost. Gone. Never to be seen again.

Saturday, June 27th was a busy day for our family. We started the day by celebrating a friends 5th birthday party rollerskating in Santa Cruz. The girls started out with their wheels locked, but soon had to have them loosened to roll, and roll they did.

After the birthday party we headed to my sisters house for some fun in the sun, a little swimming in the pool, and a belated Father's Day celebration with my Dad. It was here, about halfway through the event, that I suddenly noticed a gap in Sam's smile. I had been watching those teeth like a hawk since we first noticed that there were 2 loose teeth, and yet somehow I missed the escape of that first tooth. She had been in the pool the entire time, so we are fairly certain that is where it was lost (we think when her and Riley crashed into one another on the rafts.) We donned swim goggles, and spent a good deal of time searching the bottom of the pool to no avail. Sam was distressed that the tooth fairy would not come because the tooth was gone. We assured her that the tooth fairy would find it for her.

Skip ahead to Monday, June 29th. I had a meeting to attend for my twins group GeminiCrickets, so off to my parents house they went for some more fun time in their pool. I got back just in time to pack them in the car and head to their afternoon swim lessons. I thought that the gap in Sam's mouth was a little bigger, but didn't have time to investigate. After lessons were over I had her do the obligatory open mouth presentation, and sure enough tooth number two was gone.

I HAD MISSED HER FIRST TWO TEETH. How could this happen? Not only ws I oblivious to her losing the teeth, but she was too. She had no idea they were gone until I mentioned it. I'm attaching an alarm to tooth number three! I will not miss another one.

In the end Sam dictated a letter to the tooth fairy, then she signed it, drew a picture of her mouth with arrows pointing to the 2 missing teeth, put it in an envelope along with a picture of her without her teeth. Then she tucked it under her pillow with one corner peeking out so the Tooth Fairy would know it was there. The Tooth Fairy will reciprocate.

My Amazing Girls

The title of this post could very well be written by any one of you substituting the "Girls" with an appropriate word of your choice such as boys, kids, spouse, dogs, cats, etc. Why use that title then? Because that's how I feel right this very minute.

As some of you know I stay home with the kids during the week, and work on the weekends. This means we don't get much family time together. The days I work I don't see the girls much, and i miss them terribly. This weekend I was able to work 3 nights which was great for the ol' checking account, but hard on the Mommy. This morning I was exhausted when I got home, so I got a quick hug, kiss, and cuddle from each of the girls, and then headed off to bed. Later today I was awoken by 2 kisses, 2 hugs, and 2 cuddles followed by requests to read with them. We spent the next 2 hours cuddled up in bed reading books. It was the best "Saturday morning" ever.

I'm sure that all of you can relate to the nice cozy feeling of being with your amazing "others" which is why I say, "Any of you could have written this."

Endings lead to new beginnings

Friday the girls "graduated" from preschool. I could stop right there since that was the end of a story. A story of growth, development, independence, and letting go while still hanging on. However, it is also the beginning of a new story, one that I'm sure will expand on the previous tale.

My girls did not go to daycare. They did not go to preschool at an early age. For a long time I was determined to homeschool them in order to maintain our own schedule, their individual learning curve, and yes, a bit of control over what they're exposed to on my part. This past year I made the decision to go back to school for my masters (I haven't yet, but that's another story.) In order to accomplish that the girls would have to attend school. I spent a short amount of time exploring preschools near our house (distance was a factor), and finally selected one that may not have been at the top of other people's list, but gave me the warm fuzzies. I was not let down. The teachers are enthusiastic and truly care about the kids and their development. To say they are fabulous is an understatement. More importantly, the girls loved it. We didn't have a transition period as I feared. My greatest threat the past 9 months has been, "If you don't do "blank" then you're not going to school today". Let me tell you, they would snap to, and do whatever it was that needed getting done whether it was getting dressed, finishing their lunch without playing around, or changing their attitude. Despite being in the same class they gained some independence from each other (and from me.) They learned many things this year, but the most important is their current love for school. I hope that it continues for a long time.

The new beginning starts in two weeks. Their new school hosts a summer school/camp for two weeks in the summer. We've decided to enroll the girls as they seem to be having a difficult time with the idea of actually leaving their beloved preschool and moving on. They want to take their teachers with them. The good thing is that I also get that warm, fuzzy feeling from their kindergarten teacher, so I'm hoping the transition goes well. After the summer program we have about a month and a half off, and then elementary school (yikes, elementary school) begins along with the rigid schedules, homework, and even more independence that I was dreading. I'm sure it will be fine. I'm also sure that I will cry the first day of school as they run off to begin a new life, one without me there at their side.

If wishes were horses...

I wish I were a better writer.

Every 5 year old should have a bachelor/ette party

The past few months the girls have been begging us to try some new foods and to eat with their hands. While the two were not related I thought that combined they would make for a good, new experience. As a result, I started looking around for a Morrocan restaurant. I asked a few friends and as it turned out one of them had recently dined at such a place in San Francisco, El Mansour. She wanted to eat there again, and started recruiting people to join us.

Tonight was the night that we could all make it, so we piled in cars and met up in the city. The girls were thrilled with the concept, and excited that the day was here. Upon arrival we were immediately seated at a low table surrounded by low couches and "tuffets". While I should have seen the disaster coming, I did not. Tuffets plus two 5 year olds equals one very "active" dinner
with many reminders that we were indeed in a restaurant and needed to behave accordingly. Overall, IMHO, other than expanding our dining space to include the vacant tables next to us, they were pretty good, especially for such a prolonged dinner.

The start of the experience began with handwashing where they bring out a large brass tureen and pitcher and pour nice warm water over your hands. The girls thought this step was great, and lots of fun. Sam even required a solo washing. Soon after came the bread which was passed around between every course. Better grab extra though, because this is what you use to pick up your food, and they don't leave any on the table. The bread was followed each time by something new, soup, a veggie platter with uniquely cooked and spiced treats, some sort of puff pastry appetizer that Riley devoured, the main course, belly dancing, and dessert which was more puff pastry yumminess and fried bananas. The girls seemed to enjoy most, if not all of the food.

The belly dancing, however, is where the bachelorette party started. The dancer came out, did a short dance then brought Riley up to dance with her. Sam refused, but held on tightly to the scarf the dancer gave her. Riley did a great job copying everything that the dancer did,
and had me in tears of glee throughout. She was so serious about the whole thing, and was really paying attention to what the dancer was showing her. After her turn was done, the dancer moved on to other tables to dance with their occupants. At this point I was pretty sure
we were all done. Nothing could be further from the truth.

After performing for each table, she made her way back towards the kitchen where the manager put a dollar in her shirt strap giving everyone a clue as to how they should tip her. Members of our party gave the girls dollars for the dancer, which I thought was really nice...until they
delivered them. I mistakenly assumed (I know, I know) that they would hand her the dollars, she would say thank you, and they would sit back down. Oh noooooo. She held out her waistband and let them tuck the dollars in. They were very entertained by it all. I, however, was mortified. My girls had unknowingly had their first bachelorette party.

The life cycle of a yellow dinosaur cake

Once upon a time there was a woman that had some sense of sanity, that's gone now. That woman would be me. About 4 months ago Valerie, my Goddaughter, requested a dinosaur cake for her birthday. Not just any dinosaur cake, but a yellow dinosaur cake. This is the story of that cake.

Month one, contemplate the many ways of creating a yellow dinosaur cake. 3D solution comes to mind, rejected as ridiculous.

Month two, contemplation continues. 2D solution formulated, 3D version continues to inject itself into the forefront of thought.

Month three, out damn spot. 3D idea not cooperating.

Month four, give into idea, acknowledge plans in back of head, begin formulating exactly how to achieve the vision.

Week of May 11th:

Collect all ingredients. The list was impressive, so I thought I'd share.

25 cups of flour, approximately 6lbs

22.5 tsp Baking Powder

7 tsp Salt

38 sticks of butter (yes, you read that right)

15.75 cups Granulated Sugar

20 cups Powdered Sugar (approximately 6 lbs)

17 tbsp Vanilla Extract

13.5 cups Whole Milk

16 tbsp Heavy Cream

18 Large Eggs

5 lbs Fondant

and a partridge in a pear tree (just checking to see if you're still reading.)

All of these were used over the course of 3 days to make nine 10x13 cakes which were then stacked using buttercream in between the layers to make one very large cake. The challenge here was using a very old, inconsistent oven. The cakes go in, get rotated halfway through, then come out. During this process I would check the thermometer in the oven and I was getting readings ranging from 300 degrees F to 360 (it was supposed to be 350 throughout.) This meant that I got 2 cakes which seemed to come out fine, 4 which were underdone in the middle (and rather dense), and 3 that were a bit overdone, but not too bad. Despite all this, the easy part was done.

Once I had them stacked, I began the carving. It was kind of like giving yourself a haircut. A little more off this side, oops, now a little more off that side. Why is one foot the size of mine, and the other 3 are the size of a 9 month old? How exactly do you carve a curving tail? I ended up with something that looked more like lizard roadkill than a dinosaur. Perhaps this was just because it didn't even come close to the picture in my head.

Once it was carved, it had to be coated with buttercream so the fondant would stick. Then the kneading of color into the fondant, rolling of the fondant, and application commenced. This process went okay, only created 2 holes, and sort of patched those. Details were added and the whole thing was slipped into my refridgerator on the wonderful board that Andrea got for this purpose (acquisition was not easy.)

Final stats:

Wt. of cake before carving - 32 lbs

Wt. of completed cake - 30lbs

Happiness of one 3 year old - total.