Friday's Five: Donaldson and Scheffler

One easy way to find great children's books is to pick a library book that you really like and then look for other titles by the same author. One of our favorite discoveries started because Junius likes the word "spiffy" -- our first pick quickly became a favorite, leading us to add more books to our collection.

Here are five great children's titles by author Julia Donaldson and illustrator Axel Scheffler. All have great rhymes and interesting, detailed illustrations.

1. The Spiffiest Giant in Town: In addition to letting you repeatedly use the word "spiffiest," this book also lets you sing along as George becomes the sweetest, kindest, most helpful giant in town.
2. The Gruffalo and The Gruffalo's Child: These two books tell a funny tale about the relationship between the mouse and the gruffalo. What? You've never heard of a gruffalo? Hmmm, better get the book and find out.
3. Charlie Cook's Favorite Book: This clever story winds through book after book after book to bring you right back where you started.
4. Room on the Broom: Highly recommended by a friend, this book tells the tale of a witch and the friends she makes as she rides on her broom -- and about what happens when they crash.
5. The Snail and the Whale: This is next on my list -- so fun to have another one to discover! Sounds like it will have all the fun and rhyme of the other books, with an important lesson about how little people can be strong, too.

A Letter to Santa

Junius wrote his first letter to Santa this week. I'm not sure who was more excited about it -- Junius or his daddy.

Thanks to some really wonderful coaching from Abby, they did a great job -- not sure if you can read Daddy's translation of Junius's drawings in the letter (shown left), but here's what it says:

Dear Santa, I have been good this year. Lightning McQueen and Chick Hicks [illustrations of the cars that he's asking for]. Please bring toys to other children too. Merry Christmas to Santa.

After they wrote the letter, we all went up to North Hills (a convenient substitute for the North Pole) and mailed the letter in the special Santa mailbox outside the toy store.

The whole thing was very sweet, but it left me feeling a little conflicted. I grew up "believing" in Santa the same way I "believed" in Pippi Longstocking, the Narnia siblings and the Muppets -- another great character to enjoy. I never felt deprived of the magic of Christmas, but also never had the crushing he's-not-real-and-everything-is-ruined moment.

As a kid, I loved watching Christmas specials, singing carols, decorating the house, waiting for my grandparents to arrive (which really signaled the beginning of the holiday for me). On Christmas Eve, we'd go to mass, then come home and open one present. Once we were in our pajamas, Granny would start looking anxiously out the window declaring, "Oh my stars! I think I see some reindeer out there -- you kids better get to bed!" In retrospect, I'm sure our holidays were filled with plenty of stress for my parents, but for me it was all fun and good times -- even though I didn't really believe that Santa was real.

Now as a mom, I'm at a total loss about how to create that same fun-without-the-pressure for my own kids. They'll be excited about Christmas morning no matter what -- doesn't matter who the presents are from. What I worry about (after listening to my 4-year-old for the past month) is my kids believing that Santa will automatically bring them every gift they want. I'm more worried about their disappointment in Christmas if they believe too much.

At the same time, I don't want to ignore Santa completely -- and I couldn't do that, even if I wanted to, given that he's everywhere and that so many people really want to believe. It's a tough call -- wish I had the answer. I know I'm not alone in this struggle -- see Erin's post at Triangle Mamas.

So tonight, after the kids go to bed, we'll put out a couple of presents under the tree from Santa. And I'll watch them in the morning to see their reaction. And then I'll be thankful that I have another 364 days to figure it out for next time.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Friday's Five: That Lovin' Feelin'

Just in time for the holidays, here's a super mushy mama post for you...

Too often, I find myself wishing time away, wishing that my kids were older so that they'd be less needy, so that I could go to the bathroom without an escort, so that I could sleep past 7 a.m.

And then I realize that they're doing just that -- growing up way too quickly -- and I remind myself to savor the sweet moments that I know will disappear all too soon.

Here are five of my favorite baby moments to savor, some already passed and some that I'm still (literally) holding onto:

1. Nursing: After the first few awkward weeks, nursing came easily with both my babies (thankfully). That's Pippi in the photo, fresh at the hospital. We were still getting the hang of it there, but nursing felt like the perfect connection to me. (Side note: If nursing doesn't work for you, don't do it and don't feel guilty about it. I loved it because it was easy -- but that's another post.)
2. Sleeping on my chest: Junius mostly liked to be held when he slept as a baby -- there were certainly times when this was exhausting, but it was also such a sweet feeling with the weight of his little body all warm and snuggled against me.
3. Tucking baby's head into my neck: Whether it's the newborn snuggle under my chin or the toddler tucked into the side of my neck, I love this move -- feels like a hug, even when they're too young to know how to give one. Plus, you get to smell their sweet little heads. And where they're old enough to slide one hand around the back of my neck, it's even more lovely.
4. Reading in my lap: Pippi never has been much for the snuggle nap -- but now that she'll finally sit long enough to read a book, I get to enjoy the weight of her leaned back against me in the rocking chair before bed. It's about the only time she gets still all day.
5. Holding hands: There's something about that tiny hand tucked into mine that just melts me. It's a sign of complete trust that they have in me -- such an amazing responsibility.

And now I think I'll go pat their sweet little sleeping heads one more time for good measure. Before I know it, they'll be teenagers and I'll be that mom telling stories of how they used to fit on my lap and want me to cuddle with them before bed. Sigh.

There's a Reason Babies Are So Cute

Last week, I got the happy email news that a close friend had delivered a healthy baby boy.

To say she's had a challenging pregnancy would be an understatement, so her news brought great relief as well as joy. In addition to a range of craziness at home -- caring for her toddler, listing and selling her home, and working with her husband through a job change -- the last nine months included the following:

• 18 weeks of all day and night "morning" sickness
• 1 bout with the stomach flu
• 1 second trimester hospitalization and surgery for a kidney/bladder blockage
• 12 inches of a coil stent to open the blockage for the remainder of the pregnancy
• 3.5 months of pain and contractions
• 16 weeks of partial bed-rest
• 7 ultrasounds
• 7 days of home quarantine with attack of the H1N1 flu
• 11 hours of induced labor
• 1 epidural that came out and stopped working between the 4 to 10 cm dilation
• 7 pushes

Despite those painful numbers, she still got some beautiful results: 6 lbs. 4 oz. of perfect baby boy. And even though that baby has caused her an awful lot of pain over the past few months, she's already in love with him.

Unlike my friend, I'm really good at being pregnant -- I get enormous and round, but I had it so easy both times (until about week 39). Turns out I'm not so good at the delivery part -- both babies required c-sections to make their entrance into the world (see photo of Junius, fresh after his arrival). I still struggle at times with the fact that my babies' beginnings didn't match up with my Hollywood vision of what delivery would look like -- that dramatic moment when I squeeze my husband's hand, push the baby out, and immediately get to hold him close and love him. (And in that vision, of course, I'm wearing make-up, looking flushed but lovely. And the baby is all clean and beautiful, with no cone-head. And I instantly lose 40 pounds so I can wear my regular jeans home from the hospital. But I digress.)

I know it's a cliche, but my friend's experience reminded me that it doesn't matter how you become a mama, as long as you get to love the baby that makes you one. Whether through c-section or induction or adoption or marriage or fertility treatments or a drug-free birth, those babies arrive in our lives and they love us and they make us love them back. And it's a damn good thing they're so cute -- they have the power to make us forget everything else.

Friday's Five: The Wedding

Yesterday, while most eyes (including the sweet groom's) were focused on the beautiful bride featured above, mine were fixed on that adorable little ring-bearer. Our family met the bride when Junius was 5 months old -- she was one of his first regular babysitters and has been an adopted member of our family ever since.

The celebration of marriage was wonderful and beautifully personalized by this special couple -- and of course, my favorite part was seeing how happy they were to be getting married. But here are five other favorite details about the big day:

1. Junius in a tuxedo: Did I mention he was adorable? I'm talking crazy cute. The best was watching him tap dance in his shiny tuxedo shoes during the reception. I'm thinking we could rent him out as a ring-bearer for other weddings to help pay for college later on. He was that sweet.
   
   
2. Kid-friendly event: Not many young couples would purposely invite lots of small children to their wedding. But this event not only allowed the kids, the bride and groom went out of their way to make sure they were included. From fancy corn dogs in the buffet line to dancing the hokey-pokey to a special photo of the bride with all her babysitting charges, it was a great wedding for the little ones.
   
   
3. Musical favor: The bride and groom created a CD for their guests, calling it "a condensed playlist of our lives... so far." With tracks from Avett Brothers, Iron & Wine, The Shins and Wilco, it's not your usual wedding fare -- which is exactly what makes it so fantastic.
   
   
4. Ring-bearer gift: One of the most useful gifts ever, this basket (shown below) came in black with Junius's name embroidered in blue along the side. For the wedding and reception, I loaded it up with coloring books (and those Color Wonder markers that only write on the magic paper), snacks, tissues and pajamas (for the ride home). Stylish and functional -- doesn't get any better than that.
   
   
5. High heels: Okay, so I realize this last one is more about me than the event, but it was kind of a big deal. Despite my general fear of tall shoes, I found some very cute peep toe heels that I could actually walk in. Sadly, I can't find a picture of them online, and the only picture that shows my feet in them is one that Junius took and the awkward angle makes my legs appear chunky and I'm too vain to post it. But trust me that I was walking in heels, and they look good.
   

Congratulations to our friends -- thank you for letting us celebrate with you! May you always love each other and enjoy each other as much as you did on your wedding day.

P.S. Looks like the "Friday" post over the weekend is getting to be a regular event. My apologies... I never have been good at being on time, but at least I'm getting it done.

First of Many

Marking milestones with Junius when he was a baby is what got me through that first year of craziness -- first smile, first food, first word, first steps and so on. In the early months, time seemed to move so slowly and I remember wondering if we would ever get to a point where he didn't need me every second of the day.

Now it seems like there's a milestone every week, and he's growing up so fast that there are days he doesn't need me at all. It's exciting and sad and amazing -- and although I know I'm not the first mom to feel this way, it's my first time and it sometimes makes me lose my breath.

Since his first camping trip at the end of the summer, Junius has tackled several more "firsts" that I want to document here:

• First time riding his bike to school... This actually made me cry a little bit as he was literally and metaphorically pedaling away from me. He was crazy proud of himself (and I was, too). It's about a mile from our house to his preschool, with several very big (up) hills. He needed a push now and then, but he made it the whole way. Now he rides to school (while I push Pippi in the stroller) at least three times a week.

• First football game... My cousin and brother-in-law will be proud to know that Junius's first time attending football game was at N.C. State's Carter-Finley Stadium. He had fun, but (as you can see from the photo) was a little sensitive about all the noise. Pippi, however, was not the least bit bothered -- she's definitely our party girl.

• First UNC football game... As a double Tar Heel, I couldn't let that NCSU game be the end of it, so we took the kids to their first UNC game in Kenan Stadium. Amazingly, the Heels won, but I think Junius's favorite part was watching the trombone players in the band.
  

• First movie in the theater... Watching Junius take in his first movie theater experience was almost as big a deal as watching him ride his bike to school. We couldn't have asked for a better set-up -- a limited release of Toy Story and Toy Story 2 (double-header with a 10-minute intermission) in 3-D. My husband took the afternoon off from work (shhh, don't tell), we left Pippi with a sitter, and went to the noon show. We were the only people in the theater. Literally. Popcorn, sippy cup and your choice of any seat in the house -- it just doesn't get any better than that.

Next week's milestone? As the ring-bearer in a wedding, Junius will sport his first tuxedo. Mommy will be bringing her camera -- and lots of tissues.

Friday's Five: Motherhood is Hard

Today's Friday's Five takes a different approach -- not favorites this time, but still a list of five things you might need to hear. Or that I, at least, need to get off my conscience.

A friend called me a few weeks ago and I knew the minute I heard her voice that something was wrong. Long story short, her 1-year-old daughter had fallen down the stairs, she was panicked about what to do and immediately called me. Why me? I'm not a nurse, pediatrician or doctor of any sort -- but I am a mom who had done something we moms don't do often enough. I had admitted to my friend, about a year ago, that Pippi had fallen down our stairs -- so I was the first person my friend thought to call.

In our ongoing efforts to be Super Mom (and Super Wife, Super Friend, Super Daughter, Super Sister and Super Employee, all rolled into one), I think we often forget (or are afraid) to confess our disasters to friends who need to know that we're not as perfect as we're trying to be. But the truth is, none of us is alone in these failings -- and it's so much easier to bear when we know that.

So when Pippi fell down the stairs that day -- after she had stopped crying and I had recovered from the agony of watching her tumble and bounce 14 times onto the (faux) wood floor, racing behind her but unable to catch her -- I called my friend, told her the story, and said, "One day, this, or something like it, is going to happen to you and Baby L. And you will cry and gnash your teeth and think that you are a bad mother. And then you will remember this conversation, you will remember that it happened to me, and you will know that babies with very good mommies still sometimes get bumps and bruises."

It turned out that Baby L, just like Pippi, was fine -- and it took both of us moms much longer to recover than it did our daughters. But after the fact, Baby L's mom reminded me what an important gift of friendship it was to know we are not alone in our less-stellar parenting moments.

And now, in the spirit of friendship, five failings in my 4+ years of motherhood so that maybe you'll feel less alone in yours:

1. Pippi fell down the stairs: I think we've covered that story, but it was totally my fault and I can still see her face as she fell. Thank goodness she has such a hard head.
   
2. Junius fell off the bed: He was probably about 18 months, jumping on my bed. I reached to grab him, he thought we were playing chase and tumbled off the side, hitting his head on the table on his way down. A heart-breaking sound.
3. Pippi fell off the couch: She was less than 6 weeks old. I don't know how she wiggled off, but she did. Face plant on the hardwood floors. Even as a second-time mom, I was terrified that I had broken her forever.
4. Junius rode in the car unbuckled: He was a few months old, riding in his infant car seat snapped into the stroller through the mall. I unbuckled him to nurse while we were shopping, then put him back in. When we got home, I realized I never clipped the seat belt back and had driven home that way. The "what-ifs" nearly drowned me.
   
5. Pippi ran into the parking lot: We were at the N.C. Farmer's Market with friends, all four kids playing so nicely. Suddenly, my friend shouts Pippi's name and I realize she's somehow about to step into traffic. Don't know how she got there, but I nearly broke my ankle racing to snatch her out of the road. Took hours for my heart rate to slow back to normal.

I am so thankful that all of these disasters had happy endings. I'm touching, knocking and pressing on wood now in hopes that I haven't jinxed myself. Feel free to leave comments of your own moments to share, but find solace in knowing you're not alone.

When Junius Grows Up...

One of my favorite books to read with Junius is I Want to Go to UNC by Ripley Rand and Jorin Garguilo. Although I didn't grow up wanting to go to Carolina (in fact, it was my last choice -- but that's another story), it's never too early to get Juni on board with the Heels -- particularly given his track record of supporting, ahem, other ACC schools. I like the book because it introduces him to important places in Chapel Hill; he likes it because it rhymes, has fun illustrations and references lots of career and college options.

Tonight while we were reading, he kept pausing on each page (a ploy, no doubt, to put off the inevitable and impending bedtime) to discuss what he might want to be when he grows up. It was the first time I'd heard him discuss what's on his list, so I was curious to know what he was thinking about. Keep in mind that the options were inspired by the careers in the story, but I just wanted to take a moment to capture them now in case he actually becomes one of them later on:

• jet pilot
• dentist
• pediatric nurse
  
• car mechanic
• tuba player ("For when I'm bery, bery growed up, Mommy.")

I think it's a great list -- surprisingly technical and medical, two areas in which I was never interested. My guess is he's probably thinking more about having cool tools than about solid career paths. Can't fault the kid for liking the accessories

Making Music Together

When I was four years old, my mother took me to Kindermusik classes -- some of the first in the U.S. My mom then became my first piano teacher, starting me on lessons that would last through three other teachers until I graduated high school. I also studied flute and sang in school and church choirs. Later, my mom became a Musikgarten teacher, singing and dancing with other moms and babies.

Given that history, and the fact that my kids really love all sorts of music and dancing, I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit that I finally took Junius and Pippi to our first music class last week. But better late than never -- all three of us had a great time singing, playing, dancing and jumping along with Ms. Angela and the nine other mommies and 12 other children. In addition to being great fun in a musical learning environment, it's also one of the few activities I could take the kids to at the same time -- not a lot of kids programs are open to both a 4-year-old and a 19-month-old.

During the class, Ms. Angela encouraged all the mommies to sing regularly to their children. "No matter what you think your voice sounds like," she said, "your children will think it's the most beautiful sound they've ever heard." I liked that advice and decided this was a good time to stop listening to NPR in the car and start singing along with our new Music Together CD.

So on our way to Nanna and PopPop's house last week, I put in the disc -- the kids were smiling and clapping and trying to sing along. And I'm thinking what a great mommy I am that I can take them to this fun class and then sing with them in the car and how happy they must be to hear my beautiful voice.

Then Junius pipes up from the back seat. "Mommy," he says. "When you are singing...?"

And I'm waiting for him to say how much fun it is when I sing and he can sing and Pippi is learning to sing and how much he loves me...

"Mommy, when you are singing," he says, "I can't hear the music. Mommy, please don't sing."

His comment left me speechless, thus having the desired effect.

I'm just hoping he won't complain when I start singing even louder in class this week.

Image from Music Together.

Friday's Five: Before Pixar

A couple of years ago, I heard an interview with Ty Burr, the author of a great book about watching old movies with your family. He talked about how his daughter chose to have a Katharine Hepburn party for her ninth birthday with a screening of Bringing Up Baby. Listening to the story, I thought his daughter might be the coolest nine-year-old on the planet.

As someone who only discovered old movies as an adult, I loved the idea of introducing classic films to children in ways they can enjoy. I mean, Cars and Toy Story are loads of fun to watch, but I want my kids to know there was film life before Pixar animation. We'll start on the list for toddlers in Burr's book soon, but in the meantime, here are five "retro" movies that Junius has already enjoyed:

1. The Love Bug (1969): We refer to this one simply as "Herbie" at our house. If your child likes cars, this story is a good alternative to Lightning McQueen. We also liked the sequel, Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo. We're holding off on the updated version with Lindsay Lohan until he's older.
   
   
2. The Muppet Movie (1979): This one is known at our house as "the one with big Animal," to distinguish it from the other Muppet movies. Yes, there are guns and some scary bits, but I just love the Muppets and the songs are so great.
   
   
3. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968): More cars (you're noticing a theme for Junius) and other fun inventions. And singing a song with the words "chitty" and "bang" is just crazy fun for a four-year-old.
   
   
4. The Music Man (1962): Juni's current favorite in our DVD player -- and I love listening to him march around the house singing about 76 trombones. Plus, it has Buddy Hackett in it, who was also in The Love Bug.
   
   
5. 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (1974):Okay, so this isn't a classic old film. But it's a lesser-known old-school Christmas special and one of my all-time favorites. Catchy tunes and important lessons about faith, friendship and hard work.
   

Photo from The Music Man Square.

Back to School

Is it tacky to do a big dance in the preschool lobby after dropping your kids off for the first day of the new year?

I mean, I know that it can be a tough day for mommies (and daddies) taking their little ones for the first time. I remember that day, three years ago -- Junius was delighted with all the toys, but all I could think about was that my baby didn't need me anymore.

But today, I am positively overjoyed to take them both to their very lovely preschool with their very wonderful teachers and come home to get some work done for paying clients. And it's not their first year, which made the dropping off even easier. So yes, I did a little dance groove on my way out of the school, humming the Sesame Street "Preschool Musical" song to myself.

This summer I learned that I'm really not cut out to be a full-time, stay-at-home mom (I had already suspected it, but this was my first extended period of time home with two children when we were not in the midst of moving). Most of the time I'm okay with that, but occasionally I have pangs of guilt and inadequacy about not wanting to be with my children all day every day. Then a friend reminded me yesterday that being a SAHM is a skill (and a talent), one that she and I have never had to develop because we've always been working a part-time or full-time job. Those moms who do it -- and do it well (bless them!) -- know that it takes serious effort to make that time at home work for everyone. My friend assured me that we could both learn how to be full-time SAHMs (without the help of preschool) if we had the opportunity.

It made me feel better to hear her say that. For now, I'm going to trust that she's right. And I'm going to say a little prayer that I not have the opportunity to prove her wrong.

P.S. The photo above is one of several I tried to take this morning before we left for preschool. Why oh why is it so incredibly difficult to get both kids facing the camera at the same time? I'm not even asking for smiles -- just both of them showing me their faces. Argh.

Friday's Five: Classic Children's Books

I love that there are so many wonderful new children's books that Junius and I get to discover together. But I also enjoy sharing the classics with him, particularly ones that I read as a child. He's still a little young for the original seven Chronicles of Narnia (although we have read the Chick-Fil-A versions) or my weathered copy of The Trumpet of the Swan, but I'm looking forward to breaking those out in years to come.

In the meantime, here are five children's books he and I both like that have survived the decades in my library:

• The Story of Ferndinand: Written by Munro Leaf and illustrated by Robert Lawson (1936). This sweet tale of a young bull who likes to sit in the shade and smell the flowers always makes me smile. My old copy has a gray cloth cover that reminds of a suit jacket, making it feel even more like a classic.
  
  
• A Fish Out of Water: Written by Helen Palmer and illustrated by P.D. Eastman (1961). My tattered copy of this cute story came from my cousin Dereck, inscribed to him from someone I don't know. Read it to find out what happens when a little boy feeds his fish Otto too much -- Mr. Carp to the rescue!
  
  
• Frog and Toad Together: By Arnold Loebel (1979). The series of shorts about two friends are sometimes melancholy and sometimes comical, but always lovely in their simplicity.
  
  
• Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile: By Bernard Waber (1973). If you don't know Lyle, you should start by reading The House on East 88th Street to find out why Hector P. Valenti, star of stage and screen, left his crocodile in the Primms' bathtub. There are additional Lyle books, but the sequel, where Lyle gets separated from Mrs. Primm at the department store and later becomes a neighborhood hero, is my favorite of the series.
  
  
• Harry By the Sea: Written by Gene Zion and illustrated by Margaret Bloy Graham (1965). All of the Harry books are fun, but I like this one best. I always enjoy a good beach story, and who can resist adorable little Harry looking like a monster covered in seaweed.
  

What are your childhood favorites that stand the test of time?

You Might Be Cute, But Your Sh*t Still Stinks

When Junius was about 10 weeks old, we took him to my cousin's wedding. Because he was prone to spitting up in quantities that defied his tiny body, I didn't dress him in his fancy clothes until we were in the church parking lot -- didn't want to ruin the look. It was one of those beautiful white, pintuck oufits that requires ironing and has impossibly tiny buttons up the back -- one that my husband had worn when he was a baby and his mother saved for us. Completely impractical, but Junius looked so sweet.

So sweet, that is, until his enormous pooplosion leaked out all over the fancy clothes (did I mention it was white?) and onto my husband's suit. Thankfully, we had a change of clothes in the car so that Junius didn't stink at the reception (see photo of him dancing with Nanna) -- and that turned out to be the worst of Juni's poop messes, even counting potty-training last year.

Pippi, however, is another story.

Today, when she woke up from her afternoon nap and started crying for me to come get her, I was on the phone with her Daddy. Apparently, in the few minutes it took for me to get upstairs, she had despaired of ever being rescued and decided to stage a protest... by removing her diaper, squatting on her blanket for a poop, and then smearing it all over everything in her crib. Seriously -- her diaper was clean, but her sheets, blankets, lovey, books and stuffed animals were covered in shit (pardon my French).

After scrubbing her down in the tub, putting on a dry diaper and taking her downstairs to play with her brother, I headed back upstairs to deal with everything in the crib (did I mention it was even on the books? and the pashmina blanket that we got as a gift for Junius and I never let him touch it but thought it was so sweet and girlie for her to have her own baby pashmina?).

I'll spare you the details from here (and be grateful I didn't stop in the midst of all the crap to take a photo -- you don't want to know). But I'm hoping against hope that this is Pippi's one poop disaster. Is it a bad sign that I'm already afraid about potty training with her?

Now it's your turn to share a poop disaster story so that I can feel better (or at least not alone) about my parenting. And feel free to make your own puns about hitting the fan.

Lost in Marbles

As Pippi strolled past me with her miniature grocery cart, I waved to her and she tossed me a big flirty grin. Then I turned back to Junius, who was fixing a plastic breakfast of eggs, bacon and spaghetti with meatballs.

After a moment, I noticed that Pippi hadn't circled back to us when she got to the corner, so I stood up to check on her. That's when I realized there was no corner, just another opening that connected to the rest of the play area. And Pippi was nowhere to be seen.

It was a busy Saturday morning at Marbles Kids Museum, the kind of day when I would have preferred to go to the pool and avoid the crowds. But Junius had asked so nicely and I was tired of always saying no. So we went, just the three of us.

My eyes darted around the chaotic space, searching for her shaggy little head among all the other toddlers -- how do you find someone so short in a crowd? I raced around the loop twice before grabbing Junius by the hand for fear that he might disappear, too. After a third frantic circle, Juni struggling to keep up with me, I could feel myself starting to panic.

Surely she was in here somewhere, I tried to rationalize. But what if she'd followed someone out of the gate and they hadn't noticed? How far could she wander without being stopped? What if someone had taken her?

We dashed to the information desk, telling the woman there that I'd lost my child. I started spouting out details, which she relayed through her earpiece to the other staff members -- 18 months old, sandy hair, pink shoes, flowered dress. As I described her, she sounded like any one of a million little people playing in the museum. I wrestled with my lungs to make my breathing stay at a normal rate.

After making Junius promise he would stay at the desk, I darted back into the play area to search again. Another staffer met me there, saying, "I think someone found her." I looked up, expecting to see her crying for me, searching as desperately for her mommy as I had been for her.

But she was playing happily at the little cash register, just a few feet from where I'd been sitting for our pretend meal. She must have been two steps behind me the whole time I was searching for her, not even knowing that she was lost.

When I scooped her up, thanking the staff and heading to the desk to retrieve Junius, it felt like she'd been missing for hours. In reality, it had been less than five minutes -- but it was the longest one of my children had been lost, and it was more than enough time to leave me shaking and exhausted.

Friday's Five: Children's Books for the Stage

In college, I took a very fun course called "Performance of Children’s Literature" with an amazing professor named Paul Ferguson -- he still teaches the class and I recommend him highly to anyone at UNC who is interested in performance or just wants to try it out.

As a class, we performed excerpts from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, then we did small group performances from children's books that we selected -- I used a couple of stories from The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales. I'm sorry to say I didn't turn out to be much of an actress, but I loved the class anyway and enjoyed reading children's books with performance in mind.

The first five children's books I wrote about this spring would all be good in performance, but here are five more books that Junius likes -- and every time I read them, I can picture in my head how they would look and sound on a small stage. Maybe I should send Paul a nudge and see if we can get a show started...

1. Mercy Watson Fights Crime: Written by Kate DiCamillo and illustrated by Chris Van Dusen, this is the third title in a chapter-book series about a pig named Mercy who lives with Mr. and Mrs. Watson and loves to eat hot buttered toast. The illustrations and characters are hilarious, and I find that I am incapable of reading this series aloud without adopting a series of very Southern accents. Book 3 continues the characters from the first two, plus a comical little thief/wannabe-cowboy whose robbery attempt is foiled by a certain porcine wonder.
   
   
2. Skippyjon Jones: This is the first in the series by Judy Schachner about a Siamese cat who likes to pretend he's a chihuahua. It's great for reading aloud because of the funny things Skippyjon says (in his best Spanish accent) as he turns into El Skippito Friskito, the great sword fighter, and tackles Alfredo Buzzito, the bad Bumblebeeto (who may or may not actually be the pinata in Skippyjon's closet where he's playing during time-out).
   
   
3. Don’t Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late!: Words and pictures by Mo Willems make up this series about a funny little pigeon who likes to drive a bus, eat hot dogs and stay up past his bedtime. We particularly like this one because Junius is always trying to stay awake, too, and the interactive style of the main character would work well in a show.
   
   
4. Click, Clack, Moo: Cows That Type: Written by Doreen Cronin and illustrated by Betsy Lewin, this is one of many very funny books about the clever animals on Farmer Brown's farm who use a typewriter to get what they need. The sound effects would be fun to do in a performance, plus the story is a riot.
   
   
5. The Grouchy Ladybug: Probably everyone knows Eric Carle's The Very Hungry Caterpillar, but this book is another one of his his that I just recently discovered (apparently Juni had been reading it at preschool and found it at the library). It includes lessons in telling time and relative size, but it's also a funny tale of a tough-talking ladybug who is continually looking for someone bigger to fight. Would be interesting to try to do this as a two-woman (or two-man) show with one person as the bug and one person as everyone else.
   

Note: As usual, I have received no compensation from Quail Ridge Books & Music or any of the authors or illustrators of these books. But if you live in Raleigh, you should go to Quail Ridge for all your book purchases. Trust me. And if you don't live in Raleigh and don't have a local independent bookseller, you should buy your books online from QRB -- it's the right thing to do.

Firsts Night

Saturday night was a momentous one filled with "firsts" for our little family. The big event was Junius's first camping trip -- he went to Hanging Rock State Park with his dad and Grandpa (my FiL). They hiked to a waterfall (see photo of Juni and Daddy), rowed in a boat and slept in a tent during an overnight rainstorm. Juni had a blast, and the big guys had fun sharing the experience with him and each other.

Pippi and I stayed with Nonna (my MiL) while the guys were out roughing it. We took naps (or at least they did while I got some contract work done), went shopping, ate dinner in a restaurant and slept in our beds. It was lovely and civilized -- and too bad that Pip isn't yet old enough for pedicures at the salon.

But even though we weren't out camping, Pippi and I still had our share of firsts...

• It was Pippi's first night without Junius since we brought her home from the hospital. Seems funny to imagine, but in her whole life (minus the first couple days), she's never had dinner without her brother, never had breakfast without her brother, never gone to bed without her brother in the next room. She had an unusually tough time in the restaurant during dinner -- could have just been crabby, but I honestly think she was starting to miss Junius. She was VERY excited to see him when they returned home on Sunday.
  
  
• It was possibly my first night in almost nine years without saying goodnight to my husband. We've certainly spent nights apart because of business travel or weekends with friends, but I don't think I've ever gone to bed without at least saying goodnight to him. Felt really strange and kind of icky.
  
  
• It was probably the first time I went 24 hours without talking to my husband. I expected to get a call sometime during their trip since both my husband and Grandpa had their cell phones with them. When I didn't hear from them, my brain leapt straight into the deep end -- car wreck, bear attack, rock slide, lightning strike, whatever irrational disaster you can think of. The rational part of my brain told me they simply didn't have any reception in the park (which turned out to be true), but sadly that tiny part was no match for all the crazy scenarios that nearly drove me over the edge waiting by the phone. I was so relieved to see them arrive home on Sunday that I proceeded to yell at my husband for not making a Herculean effort to call me and tell me that they were neither injured nor dead.
  
  
• It was only my fifth night away from Junius (out of 1,483 days in his life) -- of the other four, one was a getaway with my husband (so luxurious and restful!) and the other three were spent in the hospital when Pippi was born (neither luxurious nor restful). Don't get me wrong -- I'm looking forward to a night away from both of my children sometime this year, but it still just felt weird not to see him, tell him good-night, tuck him under his blanket before I went to bed.

The good news about all of this is that Junius has convinced his dad that they should bring Pippi and me along on the next camping trip -- might be the ONLY way I'll ever get invited to camp again with my husband (I'll save that story for later, but let's just say the first trip didn't go well and may have caused him to reconsider his intentions to marry me). Honestly, I'm not a huge fan of sleeping on the ground, but at least I won't be waiting by the phone if I get to go along for the ride.

A Good Substitute is Hard to Find

He just wanted to be helpful. I was making my lunch, and Junius asked if he could join in. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

But when I watched, stunned, as his eyes began to swell shut and welts broke out across his face, I suddenly realized he was allergic to my sandwich. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the kind I'd eaten a hundred times since he was born, the kind he'd never wanted to eat himself but had just helped me make.

Somehow we made it three-and-a-half years without discovering that Junius has a peanut allergy -- but last December, it was painfully obvious why he never liked peanut butter. He hadn't even eaten any of it that day -- just got a little on his hands closing my sandwich, then rubbed his eyes. After a quick dose of benedryl, a frantic trip to the pediatrician (thankfully it was a weekday and his breathing remained normal), an epi shot and a long nap, he recovered from the reaction unscathed. A few weeks later we visited the allergist to officially confirm what we already knew.

Since then, we've stopped buying peanut butter altogether, even though my husband and I both love it. Just seems too risky to have it in the house. But I miss the ease and the tastiness of a good PB&J for lunch. So when my neighbor offered me a sample of SunButter that she'd gotten in the mail, I figured it was worth a try.

Turns out I can't get Juni even to taste it -- he is understandably afraid of anything that looks remotely like peanut butter. But Pippi and I have really enjoyed it. Although you wouldn't mistake it for real peanut butter, it has enough of the consitency, texture and flavor to make a good sandwich. And in addition to being Juni-safe, it's also "nutritionally superior" to peanut butter (according to its website).

All that to say, if you're not allergic to peanuts, you're probably happier with the real deal. But if you're looking for a substitute, this is a good one.

Note: I have received no compensation from SunButter to write this post. There's a lot of hullabaloo these days about blogging with integrity. I'm assuming the six of you who read this blog aren't worried about that, but please let me know if you have concerns. Trust me when I tell you that none of the marketers seem to have discovered my little blog, despite my hopes for lots of free "blogola."

New Music Monday: Driving with Children

Okay, so it's not really Monday. But I composed this post in my head on Monday, so I think it still counts.

Will be spending a lot of time in the car with my children this week -- first, a quick trip to Nanna and PopPop's while I have work meetings, then an extra-long weekend at the beach with dear friends. All good travels, but Mommy has to do something to keep everyone entertained in the car since we won't have Daddy with us.

Here's what we'll be listening to while we cruise I-40:

• Rockin' the Suburbs by Ben Folds: Junius likes listening to "Chuck's brother" -- and I do, too, despite the fact that I have to sing loudly to edit over all the cussing. We'll probably have to stop listening to this one soon (Juni's ears are too good and I really don't need him dropping the f-bomb at his Baptist pre-school), but the drums and piano are really fun for now. Need to talk with Big Bang Boom about recording a kid-friendly version of this album.
  
  
• Greatest Hits by The Bangles: We have a lot of Manic Mondays at our house, so this just seems appropriate. And I figure this is a good opportunity to teach my children about the brilliance of the 80s. Or at least prepare them for karaoke.
  
  
• Quick by Eddie From Ohio: EFO makes great car music, so you just can't go wrong with them. Plus this album features a gorgeous a capella song called "Great Day" that we played as we entered our wedding reception, so it always makes me happy.
  
  
• Dear Mr. Sinatra by John Pizarelli: Junius refers to this one as the "Ring-a-Ding-Ding" song. Always need a little something jazzy in the car -- and I love watching their little baby heads bounce in the back seat while they pretend to play trumpet.
  
  
• Cry Cry Cry by Cry Cry Cry: One of my sweet neighbors brought me this CD over the weekend -- have only listened to the first few tracks so far, but they're some really good covers by Richard Shindell, Lucy Kaplansky and Dar Williams. I'm hoping by the time we get to this one, the kids will be snoozing and I can just listen and enjoy.

Junius Fest 2009

What starts with Buzz Lightyear and a Lightning McQueen lunchbox and ends with one very tired and slightly sandy four-year-old?

It's J-Fest 2009, a four-day birthday extravaganza!

Here's a list of the highlights from Junius's birthday and the three additional days of celebration:

• Opening presents from the parents (mentioned above)
• Receiving an early morning phone call from his girlfriend (at the end of which he said, "My mom needs to talk to your mom. I love you!")
  
• Riding with the top down on a breakfast trip to Biscuitville with Daddy
• Spending the morning at the park with KT and G (two of his favorite friends), plus a ride in Ms. B's car (which is nearly as exciting as playing at the park) -- including brownies and a Buzz Lightyear kite
  
• Splashing at the pool for more play time with KT and G
• Getting FOUR WHOLE DOLLARS in the mail (three of which will go into his bank, where he is "saving for college," and one of which he plans to spend on chips at the pool snack bar)
• Eating dinner at Chick-Fil-A (with KT and the fam) -- including more presents, ice cream and time to run around
• Listening to a sweet birthday voicemail (to which he tried to talk and respond through the answering machine)
• Hosting a pool party with four grandparents, two parents, one sister and 12 friends -- including cupcakes, Chex Mix (his favorite snack) and juice boxes
• Grilling out cheesburgers and hot dogs for dinner
  
• Opening presents from friends and family, then trying to play with all of them at once because every single one is "just what I have always wanted!" (especially the "Mack" truck from the movie Cars)
  
• Using power tools to help Pop Pop build a super-duper sandbox in the backyard, then playing in sandbox after Daddy filled it with more than 1,200 lbs of sand
• More time at the pool, more cheeseburgers, popsicles and play...
  

The next morning, his first words to me were, "Did any more of my presents arrive?"

Dude can get his money's worth out of a birthday. Guess I can add that to the list of things he seems to have inherited from his mother.

The Days Are Long, But the Years Go By So Quickly

His birthday should have been 10 days ago. He comes from a long line of late bloomers, so we shouldn't have been surprised when he didn't arrive on time. But I expected him every day anyway, pacing up and down my street, bulging in the outrageous heat, sure I would give birth any moment (as was my sweet neighbor, watching me go back and forth).

Finally, in the wee hours of July 8, after two days of painful back labor, my water broke. I heard the pop, as I lay propped up sleepless in my bed.

Twelve hours later with a mediocre epidural and all the pitocin they could give me, he still wasn't moving. Still no progress, no baby.

C-section, whirlwind, wedged in, it's a boy, whisked away. And then I blacked out. When I came to, not sure if maybe I'd died in the process, I was a mother. Just like that.

He was beautiful, round and tiny, with soft brown hair and huge hands. He was, as my husband first described him while I was coming out of the fog, "a champion baby." I knew I would always love him (he looked so much like his dad, how could I not?), but it took a little time for me to fall in love with him. Took some time to decide what it meant to be a mom.

I was overwhelmed, over-tired, unprepared for recovery from surgery. He only slept when we held him, so we held him day and night. He nursed around the clock for hours on end and refused to take a bottle. He cried and I cried with him. We accepted lots of help from friends and family.

Then one day, he smiled at me. And before I knew it, I was his Mommy and he was my love. And then he crawled and became a redhead and walked and turned blond and jumped and ran and used a fork and talked in sentences and pedaled his tricycle and slept through the night in his own big bed and made friends and used the potty and jumped into the big pool and ohmystars he's four.

Just like that.

Happy birthday, Junius! I love being your Mommy and I love watching you be you.