Month: October 2012 (page 2 of 2)

The kind of day Pink sings about.

Yesterday, Phoebe decided she wanted to go to school with Lucy. Instead of stopping short of the door and waving her big sister good-bye in the usual drop-off fashion, she followed her inside and attempted to join the classroom activities already in progress. It was very cute. Until I informed her that it was time to go, then it was not cute at all. It was shrieking and kicking me in the belly and smacking me in the face, tossing her over my shoulder and marching her to the van fireman-style NOT CUTE. There was nothing cute about the car seat battle that followed. Or the way she took all varieties of food and beverage in her mouth and then spit them back out on the table and floor at lunch time, snack time and dinner time. Or the nude-in she staged for the remainder of the day. Or the toilet paper roll, toothpaste tube, pair of shoes and bowl of fruit she destroyed.

It was cute, however, when she fell asleep early as I read stories before bedtime.

Later that night, as Dave and I chatted on the phone, I told him, “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but I hope it gets out.” (Foreshawdowing!!!)

This morning, fresh from the shower, I greeted Phoebe who was stirring in my bed. She sat up and lunged at me, arms wide and gave me the hug I’d been longing for since The Meanness had taken her over yesterday.

“Oh, I love you, Bee!”

She pulled away to look at my face and then she hugged me again. “Yove you, too, Mama!”

Once again she pulled away and I smiled at her. She vomited on my chin and chest.

After a stunned moment, I took us both to the bathroom to clean up when she said, “Uh oh! Poop!”

The smell hit about ten seconds later.

I finished cleaning up the vomit, took her out of her footie pajamas and directed her to her room, where the diapers and wipes are, and then I noticed it – the diarrhea spurting out of the sides of her diaper, like a sprinkler, all over the only carpeted room in the house. I’m not sure where she was storing it as I cannot comprehend how that amount of excrement could come from someone so small. It was like a clown car of feces, it just kept coming and coming. I threw a towel on the ground and asked her to stand on it to catch the rest. Once things seemed to slow down, I wipe her down and plopped her in the tub while I gave the carpet a cursory scrub – we still had to get the big girls to school, so I knew I’d have to do a better job later. (Yay!)

Somehow, we managed to get everyone clean, dressed, fed and to school on time. Phoebe has been the picture of health and sweetness ever since.

The moral of this story? There isn’t one. It’s just one of those tales of survival where the victory lies in being able to tell it.

The Sunday Paper

Julia has been doing a lot of writing, lately. She’s composed a few short fiction stories and even started her autobiography. She’d also been kicking around the idea of putting together a Sunday newspaper for our family and posted this on the whiteboard earlier this week:

Julia's Call for Submissions

And today, this was printed and shipped for free, as promised, from the playroom right to my lap.

Grimmett Sunday Paper Page 1

Grimmett Sunday Paper Page 2

I love that Dave doing housework was deemed a newsworthy item. I hope there will be a Sunday paper next week.

All my life I’ve said summer is my favorite season, but I think I’ve been lying. My favorite season is fall.

The leaves have started falling from our trees and while I guess I know that you’re supposed to rake them up, I actually prefer the view of them scattered across the yard. Still, the little girls and I tried to rake. We raked up a whole pumpkin bag full, but it didn’t even make a dent.

Pumpkin bag

We decided to play in them instead.

Tossing the leaves

Playing in the leaves

Buried in the leaves and reanimating like a zombie!

Buried in leaves

Lucy and Phoebe in the leaves

We have been more excited about this than you can likely comprehend.

The past couple of weeks, we’ve had a rafter of turkeys hanging out on our property.

Rafter of turkeys hanging out in our backyard

This is a terrible picture of them. I’ve been trying to get one for days, but turkeys are high-strung and also fast runners and nearly impossible to sneak up on. (I took this from my bathroom window early this morning.)

They come a little closer to the house every day, though. The girls are hoping we can tame them, name them and dress them in festive holiday sweaters.

If I had to rewrite that “I hope you dance” song for my girls, I’d write “I hope you tell your stories.”

I’ve always loved making up bedtime stories for the girls, but recently, Lucy has started telling some of her own after the lights are out. The cool thing about it is Lucy is a pretty great storyteller.

Last night’s story started like this:

“Once upon a time, in an enchanted forest ago, there was a hidden lake with a sign that said, ‘DO NOT GO IN THIS LAKE, YOU COULD DROWN. OR WORSE! YOU COULD BE EATEN BY A CROCODILE.’

I wish I’d written down more, but the truth is, I fell asleep on the floor and snoozed until Lucy nudged me awake to say, “Mom, I think I’ll finish telling this story tomorrow. It’s more of a morning story.”

The bad part? I’m pretty sure it’s a conspiracy to disestablish bed time. At least that’s the feeling I got when Julia started asking detailed questions about the characters. “So…this giraffe, why is he in the forest, anyway? Who are his parents? What are his likes and dislikes? What is his favorite color?” (Incredibly, Lucy had answers to every question, immediately and without hesitation!)

And so, my plan is to move bedtime up by fifteen minutes to allow for the storytelling. It’s just too important to sacrifice.

Their pretend play is growing increasingly complicated.

Yesterday, Lucy signed a contract with Phoebe’s record label. Apparently, Julia is a pretty good manager because she also scored her an endorsement deal with a deodorant company. They spent a significant amount of time working up the ad campaign.

The ad

The title: Armpits Galar!

And the copy reads: Just the other day, Lucy John Grimmett put on loicion for armpits and oh – oh they smell good! The special stuff is called deoderant. Nobody knows how it does it but it’s a big hit!

Then Julia styled Lucy and took photos for the ad.

Lucy (styled by Julia)

They had hoped to shoot the commercial yesterday, but couldn’t get it done before Julia’s cross country meet.

Running cross country

After that, they were horses.

I guess Hollywood will have to wait.

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