Friends, please visit me at my new address: www.mayacatchingbutterflies.blogspot.com. Thank you for visiting me here at crumbsandquibbles. You guys are the best! I really hope you enjoy the new look and feel of my newest blog endeavor. Same stuff, just a different space. In haste...

-Maya 

Maya Catching Butterflies

Hello, friends. Good Monday afternoon to you all!

I don't know where the time has gone for all of a sudden the start of the 2011-2012 school year is drawing near. I can't say that I'm sad about this because I'm actually excited for the girls to begin anew. This summer has had its ups and downs and mostly I attribute the 'downs' to my lack of planning. I over scheduled the girls in the late afternoons and had absolutely nothing for them to do during the mornings and early afternoons.

I've worked during the morning and afternoons leaving my girls to fend for themselves, only emerging briefly to prepare snacks and meals, otherwise I was involved in daily conference calls and working feverishly to meet deadlines. Did I tell you that in Direct Mail, the mail never stops. NEVER. While I was pounding away on the computer writing and reviewing direct mail materials, my girls were off cranking up the Phinneas and Ferb music and jumping on the sofa in the family room, which by the way, is strictly verboten. But it's hard to enforce the rules when my face is buried in my work.

Additionally, Alex continues to be a rascal. I get so darned angry with her until I have time to sit quietly and truly reflect on where I believe her hostility is coming from. I think I've found the answer. Alex will be starting kindergarten soon and I'm positive that the approaching school year has caused her much anxiety. I can't say that I don't feel for her to some extent, but mostly I want her to come to terms with the fact that school will be fun, exciting, full of surprises and new friendships and new teachers and new playground and a new routine and all that good stuff. I want her to understand that listening to Phinneas and Ferb all day while jumping on the sofa isn't as much fun as kindergarten. HA! Try telling this to a five year old right?

Meanwhile, my first born, Sammy, is turning eight tomorrow. She is beyond giddy and for days now she's been screeching, "Can you believe it, mom? I'm going to be eight!" I can believe it alright and this occasion tugs at my heart a wee little bit. I still remember when I brought this baby... this baby, this Samantha baby home for the first time. I had no idea what I was going to do with her. She was snugly and wiggly and pink and scary. She made foreign noises. Her face contorted into what could not be described as any facial expression I was familiar with. I didn't know if she was, mad, or glad or sad or afraid or anything. When I asked other parents, more experienced parents, what she was trying to convey with a puckered O shaped mouth, they'd say, "She's hungry," or they'd say, "She's constipated." It took me days to figure out the difference between a hungry face and a constipated face, but soon I got it.

Now this tiny baby is a moderate sized eight year old, and I'm still learning what some of her facial expressions mean. Sometimes, there's the ubiquitous rolling of the eyes which totally means the same thing in all languages, Whatever. And then there's the blank stares out into nothingness that I think means, she's bored, or she's got something on her mind, or she's reflecting. I don't know which, but every day I'm learning.

Now summer is coming to an end and I'm closing the book on this chapter of my life. I'm now parent to, a kindergartner and a third grader. Oh what challenges are in store for me, only time will tell.

Last week when Alex was in gymnastics, her coach came and sat down beside me and said the following, "Alex is a hard worker when she wants to be. Mostly she's off in her own little world doing her own thing... she's catching butterflies. Now this isn't a bad thing, she just needs to focus sometimes." This news was unsettling for me to hear. I don't want coaches or teachers for that matter, telling me that my child isn't focused. I took the information with calm and just chewed on it a bit. In the end, I had to admit something that I've known all along about myself, and that is, I too am unfocused... catching butterflies. Could it be that my girls have inherited this trait? Be that as it may, I don't think of it as a negative, only a small opportunity for improvement. We all sometimes need to make adjustments, large and small, in order to move forward in life a better person. I guess this is something me and my girls will have to work at, focusing.

Friends, you have been so incredibly kind coming to this blog to read about my rascals and all the silly things we do as a family. I'm moving on now to a different space that I think might be better suited for my personality. I hope you'll join me there: Maya Catching Butterflies. Maybe this new blog will help me along my journey toward becoming a better, more focused person. I hope to see you there.

Five Year Old

Suddenly my adorable youngest offspring has turned into a stark raving angst ridden teenager. How did this happen? She’s only five years old. Often times I feel more like I’m aiming to break a horse rather than raise a child. I know it’s a horrible thing to say, comparing my own little girl to a wild horse, but I said it and now its out there, sort of like when a cat hacks up a hairball, it just gets to hacking and despite the pitiful stares, there’s not much it can do but continue hacking until the hairball is up and out. So I guess that’s where I am. I’ve already put the words out there so I might as well hack out the rest.

 

Anyway, as I was saying, I’m breaking a horse instead of raising a five year old. We have our battles, Alex and I, about ten times a day and in the end, I can’t tell you who won, we both walk away dissatisfied. When our arguments finally come to a halt, Alex clomps her hooves angrily as she heads off in the opposite direction all the while pouting her lips with arms folded tightly at her chest like she’s trying to muffle the rage. I too trot off, eyes filled to the brim with tears, unblinking to avoid wetting my cheeks.

 

Alex is a tough one alright. To be so little she sure knows how to hurt me with single-syllabic words. The word ‘NO!’ can be awfully cutting when proclaimed with a growl and whinny. ‘NO!’ coming out of the mouth of a five year old is like a Ginzu knife running through a tomato, so quick, so effective – tomato juice running out onto the cutting board – talk about a pitiful sight. And when that knife punctures me, those hurtful proclamations and the hoof stomping, there is not a trace of tomato juice, instead the only thing coming out of me are etch-a-sketch threats like, “Don’t even think about watching Sunday morning cartoons, because you’re not getting any!” Then, come Sunday morning, there she is plopped down in front of the TV, engrossed. I stand there, etch-a-sketch in hand, shaking it vigorously like a danged fool.

 

When I was pregnant with my oldest, adorable offspring, I envisioned myself raising my child by way of clever eastern philosophical riddles like for instance, “There there my child, a wanderer can only find truth once they have traveled a great distance.” Then my child would look at me, confused, too confused in fact to respond, but then, as a young adult -- after the first major disappointment in her life -- my child would come back to me illuminated, “Mother! You were right. Now I see what you were trying to teach me all along. You are so wise!” Then I would smile a knowing smile, and that would be that. I would be right, and there wouldn’t be any arguing the fact. Instead, most every day since getting into the business of mothering these two adorable offspring, the familiar voice in my head reminds me, “But Maya, you ain’t got no wisdom.” And then I skulk about plotting more realistic methods of mothering; none of which seem to be working.

 

Perhaps threatening isn’t the right approach. Maybe the way to break a horse is sticking to whatever punishment I’ve hacked-up and take the etch-a-sketch out of the picture entirely. Or, maybe threats and punishments are altogether wrong? I haven’t tried horse whispering – could it be that this horse responds better when coaxed with a few sugar cubes? All I know is that I’m tired. I’m tired of the battles. Where the hell is Gandalf when you need him?

 

On a happier note, I’m back from vacation (I know, what a subject change). I’ll share images from our trip later this week.

Random Summer

We are plowing through summer with back and forth trips to gymnastics, the library, dentists appointments, birthday parties, swimming and so much more, and now the sun is shining and our little corner of the world is finally warm. And I say warm because I know most of the U.S. is suffering under oppressive 100+ degree weather which makes me very thankful to be living in the great state of Washington.

I really dislike all the back to school commercials I'm seeing and hearing because it seems premature. Summer really just started... so it seems. Mistakenly, I over scheduled my children this summer and it's only now slowing down to a comfortable rhythm.

Here are a few camera phone pictures from the past couple of weeks. As you've probably already guessed, most of which are of food.

Last week Sammy had two teeth pulled to help with the overcrowding. She did such a good job even though she was super nervous about going under the knife. She's a very brave girl and her reward, bowls and bowls of ice-cream. :)

And here is the reason why wearing a bikini isn't such a good idea for me - Root Beer Float belly.

There's my scary thumb.

Yesterday Alex was on the receiving end of two vaccinations. She smiled the entire time and her only complaint was that the Band-Aid kept falling off. The pediatrician's office is a few blocks from Trophy Cupcake and it's a tradition that after vaccinations, the girls get to feast on cupcakes. Alex chose the Neapolitan and Sammy, the Mint Chocolate Chip. After cupcakes we headed home and on the drive home, Alex said to Sammy, "The only reason why I did so well getting the shot was because you were there." Awe. I was thrilled to hear nice words being exchanged given my children usually can't wait to bust one another at every turn. The constant tattling and the "she hit me, and she snatched that" all day long is maddening.

I never imagined that I'd have a picture like this on my blog. I went with a friend to a tattoo parlor where she was getting her nose re-pierced. I have been contemplating a tattoo despite the grimaces I get whenever it comes up in conversations. If I were to get one, know that it will be discreet; something small, something cute. Trust me, if I were to get a tattoo, I'd also treat myself to a Trophy Cupcake afterwards because I hear getting a tattoo hurts like the dickens!!

Years ago I wanted to get a tattoo of a turtle just slightly above my hip bone, but a very wise friend told me that, "...in a few years, that turtle will look like a hippopotamus." Best darn advice I'd ever received because that friend was right. Refer back to my Root Beer Float comment. 

City Mice

Before reading this post, sit down because you might be here for a while. You might even want to grab a cup of coffee to keep awake. This is going to be a long post covering events of yesterday evening and today.

Yesterday Sammy was sick, again, so we had to cancel a long awaited sleepover she was having with a friend. We intended to let the girls camp in the backyard for an extra special slumber party, but it was not to be. After much consideration, and a little bit of a spring in Sammy's step, by late afternoon we'd decided the slumber party was back on, this time with just our family. We cracked open the brand new six person, octagonal tent, Jon had bought a few days ago and started assembling it with a great deal of enthusiasm... at first. After an hour or so, it became all too clear that the tent was a lot smarter than us. We gave up. As much as I hate to admit it, it was just too damn hard and we were tired of wrestling with it. After all, we are, City Mice, and know not the ways of erecting tents and such, instead we are much better at erecting a suitcase in which to place our travel clothes for hotel stays.

Despite our pathetic attempts at outdoorsy fun, we settled on a simple backyard fire complete with Nutella S'mores.

The girls camped out in the family room instead of under the stars.

By morning, we were all hungry for a big breakfast {fighting with a tent will make you ravenous) so I made these Pikelets from Donna Hay. I'll have to provide the recipe later as I am too tired to type out the recipe now.

After breakfast it was off to explore our sunny city. As you probably know by now, it just isn't a family outing without a trip to a long board store. And yes, Jon did manage to buy another one -- with our encouragement of course.

Then it was off to downtown Seattle where we explored the open market and cavernous stores and eateries.

 

After the girls had ice-cream at Pike Place Market, we stopped in at the Chocolate Box - a cruel thing to do after the girls had already eaten their ice cream. Their hungry eyes wanted more treats but we just couldn't bring ourselves to give them more, so we left with having only a few samples.

Then it was off to Tune, a high-end audio store where we checked out a few turntables. And yes, I did explain to the children what the big black discs were and why they were going around and around on the flat plate.

We walked to the Olympic Sculpture Park where we rested and also played.

We listened to the gurgle of Seattle's underbelly through the large orifice in the center of this installment. Okay, maybe it wasn't Seattle's underbelly, but if you had to imagine it, it would probably sound like the glurp whoosh bubble bubble coming out of this contraption.

The City Mice showing off their sharp teeth and claws.

After taking the photos we saw the sign that read, "Do Not Touch." Oops.

I call the above image: Man, Red Chair and Striped Handbag. HA!!

It was such a beautiful day and this bride picked the perfect day to start her new life. I apologized to her for taking her picture but told her that I thought she looked gorgeous. I don't think she minded what with that radiant smile of hers.

This orange bike is fabulous.

Finally we arrived home after a long day walking the hard pavement of downtown Seattle. Jon made possibly the best ever iced coffee drink I've ever wrapped my lips around. But because it contains: condensed and evaporated milk along with concentrated coffee, I don't know how many more I'll be having -- it was extremely decadent. My husband knows me too well. I suppose I was supposed to sip it... I didn't. I chugged it. Yummy.

We City Mice were wiped out by the end of the evening -- well, except for me. After having that coffee I'll be up all night, hence the long post.