And now he's eleven

My breath catches in my chest each time I look at this photo, taken earlier this year.

That's my son, who I've seen nearly every one of the past 4,015 days, but there's something about this picture that just stops me in my tracks. I realize the tuxedo -- rented for his junior cotillion ball -- is cheating a little, but it's his face more than his ensemble that really does me in.

Seems like every year I've written a post on or (ahem) around his birthday simultaneously celebrating and bemoaning the way he just keeps on growing up. In many ways, this year is no different. He's older than he was, younger than he will be -- and growing faster every day.

Over the past year, he started going to the pool on his own, spent his first week at sleep-away camp, competed on the swim team, played more hockey, joined the Battle of the Books, learned the fox trot, took his first out-of-state school field trip, got his own email address, taught himself to make chocolate cupcakes from scratch, graduated from elementary school, went kayak-beach camping with his dad.

And in August he will start middle school, an event which seems both thrilling and terrifying -- at least to me.

There are so many things, both big and small, that I cannot protect him from. The world around us seems like it's going to hell in a hand basket -- so much fear, anger and ugliness that I cannot explain and feel powerless to stop.

Maybe that's part of what I love about this picture. In his sweet, handsome face, I see both the baby he was and the man he will be -- and in that, I see hope.

In this particular moment, I'm not even exactly sure what that means. He's still just a kid who forgets to put his breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, purposefully torments his sister for sport and has started having tween-age mood swings that threaten to undo me. But when he's not occasionally sulking in a corner for no apparent reason, he's a really nice guy with a creative mind, a big heart and a fierce sense of justice. That all seems like a good start.

Plus he looks great in a tux.

Ten

"Bye, Mom! See ya!"

And just like that, he pedaled down the driveway and into the street, his drawstring pool bag bouncing on his back as he pumped his legs to catch up with his friend.

I tried to act cool, like it was totally fine that he didn't need me. At all. And I immediately regretted telling him that he didn't have to call me when he got to the pool. I may or may not have texted a friend just now to let me know if she was there and could see him.

Ten.

Who knew it would be so big?

Already, in his first three weeks of double digits, Junius has spent a week at sleep-away camp, filled his own Spotify account with Pitbull and Bruno Mars, and started going to the neighborhood pool by himself. He makes his own breakfast and lunch almost every day. He searches the young adult shelves at the library and calls his own friends to make plans to play. He occasionally employs Axe deodorant to combat the inevitable pre-teen boy smell.

Someone please hold me.

Walking away from him at summer camp earlier this month nearly broke me. But I survived -- and, more importantly, he thrived. He made friends, ate new foods, learned to sail, spent the night on the dock, earned a new nickname, did the whip/nae nae (how is that even a thing?). He claims to have mailed me the self-addressed, pre-stamped post card I put in his bag, but it never arrived. The other cards were still packed when he got home because he was too busy having fun to worry about them.

At age 10, he is already stronger and braver than I was at 27.

In spite of all his grown-up-ness, he still snuggles with me occasionally, tells me he loves me, lets me rub my hand across his fuzzy buzz cut, asks for us to read to him at bedtime. I try to remember to enjoy these moments instead of losing them in life's distractions.

A friend recently pointed out that I have eight more summers with him before he leaves for college. That statement sent my heart plummeting into my shoes and my brain scrambling to make plans for every one of those summers so he'll spend them all with me.

But then I remind myself that's what it's all about. Watching him grow and change and yes, even leave me behind -- that's why we're working so hard at this crazy parenting business. It's a gift to see him moving away from me, one bike ride and camp drop-off at a time.

While I was writing, my phone just rang. It was Junius, calling to let me know he's heading home from the pool.

He really does love me.

_______________________

In case you want to join me down memory lane, here are links to past birthday posts about the boy:

• Nine: The Last Single-Digit Year
• Eight: A Champion Boy
• Seven: How Big Is 7?
• Six: Mr. Big Stuff
• Five: Things I've Saved
• Four: Junius Fest 2009
• Zero: The Official Announcement

Seven, going on seventeen

Dear Pippi --

I completely missed your birthday month on the blog this year. Not your actual birthday, of course -- for that there was the sleepover party with your besties and the dinner with grandparents and the earlier dinner with your other grandparents plus the museum party with school friends and about 847 presents that were exactly what you wanted.

No need to feel neglected, I just missed the writing about it in your actual birth month. If it makes you feel any better, I was even later writing about your brother's last birthday. It seems to be the state of affairs these days at My Convertible Life. (Although if you're using this blog for some sort of archival study one day, then apologies for having apparently missed last year's post altogether. At least I wrote about turning five.)

You turned seven this birthday. Seven doesn't scare me so much, except that you seem to be seven going on 17 -- and that is terrifying.

Right now, you still love me. You actually tell me that, almost every day. You give me tight hugs and pronounce me "the best mommy ever in the whole universe" on a regular basis. You ask for extra kisses when I drop you off at 1st grade, even when I'm running late for work and being short with you. You want to be my sidekick, want me to be your playmate, want to show me everything.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering when it's going to stop. When are you going to be too big, too grown, too stylish and notice that I am too old, too embarrassing, too out-dated?

I try not to worry, to stay in the moment. I hug you back until you let go first, fill your pockets with blown kisses to save for later, lie beside you and scratch your back at night. I admire how funny, smart and strong you are. Some days I remember.

Then there are days when I forget everything except that, no matter how frustrated I am, I am not allowed to sell you on Craigslist. Those days -- when you don't listen, don't follow directions, don't want anything to do with me -- push me past my limits. And yet still, even on those days, you love me. I hope you know that I love you, too.

When you ask funny questions like "What does Taylor Swift mean when she says she's a nightmare dressed like a daydream?" I know you're just trying to make sense of the lyrics you're shockingly good at remembering. But it also reminds me that there is so much you don't know about, don't understand, might not be prepared for. You are my baby and I want to protect you from all of them.

There will be hundreds (millions?) of things in the coming years that I will get wrong with you -- things that will disappoint or infuriate you. I can already see some of them, but I'm not sure that will help me avoid the mistakes. When those moments come, I hope that both of us will feel some tiny pull back to these days to bind us together.

You are my second child, my last born. When you were brand new, I was able to soak in all your warm, round, sweet babyness in a way that I couldn't in the early terrifying first-born days with your brother. So bear with me while I try to keep you small for just a little bit longer, keep telling me you love me and be patient with me on the days I forget.

I love you, baby girl.
- Mommy

J-Fest 2014: The Last Single Digit Year

Dear Junius --

Technically it's still your birth month for a couple more hours, so I'm going to just call this a victory. If you're reading this years later and you don't remember, I promise we didn't miss your actual 9th birthday -- I just missed writing about you on the day, that's all.

When you were younger, I remember thinking that I'd have so much more time to write once you and your sister were older and in school. That's just one item on a long list of things I've been wrong about when it comes to parenting.

I'd like to claim that the reason I haven't written a whole series of posts about you and your birthday this month is because I've been so busy spending time with you and treasuring the fantastic little man that you're becoming. But the truth is that I've been overwhelmed doing pretty much the opposite of that -- ignoring you in order to squeeze in more than my scheduled hours at work and then collapsing on the couch when we are finally home together again.

It hasn't been the July I was hoping for.

We are both first borns, you and I. Not just any old first borns either -- we are textbook cases. We want everything to be fair and everyone to love us. We want the whole world to be happy and we want at least partial credit for making it that way. We want to know the plan in advance. And sometimes we just want to be home where we can control the little space in our own rooms because everywhere else is too crazy. I watch you crumble sometimes as you wrestle with reality and I ache for you. It is all painfully familiar.

But there are some things you've already figured out that took me much longer to discover. Even when you'd rather stay safe at home, you put on a brave face and walk into spaces where you know no one in hopes that it might be worthwhile. You volunteer to be the first to fight Darth Vader, or skate onto center ice and fist bump NHL players before the national anthem. You're developing a tough side that you can hold together for at least a few minutes. You attract friends among strangers easily. It is all quite impressive.

This crazy July, in between the billable hours, I have managed to teach you a few things that seemed worth passing on. You're now hooked on solitaire, a perfect game for the kid who likes rules and fairness. You've discovered the power of the pointy elbow, that family trait useful for boxing out and pushing through. You can fry an egg and cook chicken nuggets, which gets you two of your favorite meals. And you've learned to keep a book in your bag at all times, just in case you've got 15 minutes to spend reading while you wait.

I am hopeful that we will find times to slow down and appreciate your being 9 this year. Your next birthday brings double-digits and I don't expect I'll handle it well.

But I worry that life is going to get in my way, so I'm asking for your help. Maybe now and then you could remind me to say yes when you ask me to play horse or Monopoly. Maybe sometimes you could let me skip Monopoly and play solitaire at the kitchen counter while I make dinner. And maybe some days you'll just tuck in beside me on the couch when that's all I've got left.

I love you, my firstborn. Thanks for being patient with me.
- Mommy

Badassery

Today is my 41st birthday.

I started the day with friends at our neighborhood boot camp at 5:45 a.m. in a cold misty rain. This seems crazy, I know. But it's actually a good thing.

Going to boot camp, especially when it's cold and/or raining, makes me feel like a badass. Like I'm tougher than I thought I was. Like if I can do burpees and diamond push-ups and kickboxing crunches outside in the dark when it's almost cold enough to snow, then I can probably handle whatever else is coming at me today.

This is what I learned in my year of being 40: Every life needs a little badassery* in it.

Ordinary life can be a big heap of mundane scheduled into a whole lot of routine. Some of that ordinary can be wonderful -- my daughter's small hand in mine on the way into school, my son's wiggly eye brow when he tells a joke, my husband's secret code text telling me he's on the way home. Some moments, the every day is  total chaos -- too many practices, games, meetings, lists, demands and errands colliding into a pile. There are so many things I simply cannot do or cannot do well that the stress of it all makes me buckle.

But I'm finding that if I can carve out some part of my life to feel like a badass -- even just here and there -- it all seems closer to possible.

I've never actually been much of a badass. I tend to be the person who follows the path, does what's expected, takes the easy option. But over the past 40 years, some of my best experiences were those that caused me to summon up some extra courage and at least pretend like I had a little badass alter ego.

These days, I'm not likely to get my belly button pierced or live overseas for a year, so I have to look to smaller spaces to find my badassery. More often than not, it's boot camp -- or whatever alternate workout opportunity my boot camp friends lure me into. Like aerial boot camp, for example.

It started, as most crazy ideas do these days, with a Living Social deal. Some of you may remember the last time I purchased an online deal for a class. It involved a pole. There was only one class. There are, mercifully, no photos.

This time, there are pictures -- and they make me (perhaps unreasonably) proud.

I should explain that the "aerial" portion of aerial boot camp for beginners involves trying to climb heavy streamer-like silks that are hanging from the very tall ceilings. You start by gripping both silks in our hands, then wrapping one leg around the silks and looping it over that foot. Pulling your body up with your arms, you lift your other foot and trap the silks against the bottom foot and inch your hands higher up the silks. After unwrapping your bottom foot, you pull your legs up, loop your foot back in, pinch again with the other foot, and continue on up the silks.

That description makes no sense when I write down, but trust me it's even harder to actually do it.

The first class, I didn't get much higher than this:

The second class, I barely made it off the ground.

But the third class? Well, this photo was taken when I was on my way back down. From the top. As in, touched-the-metal-ring-connecting-the-silks-to-the-ceiling top.

By the time I got back to the floor, my heart was pounding, arms and legs were shaking, and hands were burning. But damn, I felt like a badass.

And if I can do that? Well, then I can sure as hell handle 41. 

*For real, y'all, that sounds like a made-up word, but it is in the Oxford now so I'm using it.

J-Fest 2013: A Champion Boy

"He's a champion baby, Cyndi."

That's the first thing I remember my husband telling me about our newborn son after I regained consciousness following the c-section. Once he persuaded me that I wasn't actually dead, that proud new papa talked a blue streak about our sweet baby boy to bring me back to my now-expanded family.

"You should see his hands! He's amazing. Just a champion baby." He said it like I'd had some control over how this tiny baby had turned out, like we had really accomplished something.

And considering that we had just made an actual, real-live person, I guess we really did accomplish something.

Eight years later, that champion baby has turned into a champion boy. Eight.

It's a funny age -- too big to be little, yet still too little to be big. Some days, I think even he doesn't know which direction he wants to lean. And I'm not so sure either.

I love so many quirky things about the Junius who is temporarily trapped between infant and teen...

...that he says "funiture" and "tooken," but can explain the difference between a slapshot, a snapshot and a wrister.

...that he wants me to read to him at night, even though he can read whole chapter books on his own.

...that he asks to snuggle with me on the couch, even though he's so big I can barely pick him up anymore.

...that he cracks up at the poop jokes on Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, even though he doesn't understand the news context of most of the show.

..that he sleeps with Baby and Blanket tucked close beside him in bed, even though he leaves them at home when he sleeps over at a friend's house.

...that he asks me about my day sometimes, but mostly just wants to know if my favorite part of the day involved him.

In another eight years, he will ask to borrow the car and I will wonder where the time has gone. He'll probably know how to conjugate the verb "to take" by then and he likely won't be clutching a small, white teddy bear in his sleep. But with any luck, he'll still want to curl up on the couch with me and read a book or just talk about the day. And I'll try in vain to resist the urge to tell him he's still my champion baby.

Happy birthday, Junebug. I love you.

Pippipalooza: Signs of a Big Girl

"I am five."

That's Pippi's new greeting -- she doesn't say hello anymore, just thrusts out her hand with fingers spread and proclaims her age as if it's the most important thing you need to know about her. Which, clearly, it is.

She's also been doing the things she's supposed to do -- occasionally -- and then announcing them with a knowing nod. "Look, Mommy. I'm brushing my hair without being asked. Because that's what five year olds do."

It's all a little comical, this notion that last month she was a baby and NOW she is a Big Girl. But it's also kind of true.

Here are five signs that she really is so very big:

1. Ice skating: She can now skate without holding onto a chair or a grown-up. It's not exactly speedy or graceful, but she can shuffle along on her own. This is a big deal when your older brother is a hockey player.

2. Dentist chair: At her recent dental check-up, she climbed right into the chair and leaned back without assistance -- no flinching, no complaining, no worries. At the previous visit, I had to lie on the chair with her stretched out on top of me during the whole exam and cleaning. I like this version much better.

3. New bike: She's still using the training wheels (although probably not for long), but her new big girl bike is the same size as her brother's. It's also purple (to match her new helmet) and has spinney glittery spectacularness on the handle bars. It makes her legs look oh-so long.

4. Bed decor: We still haven't totally finished decorating her nursery-turned-big-girl room yet (hence all the sketches taped all over her walls), but she actually has a duvet cover on her comforter now. It's grown-up Garnet Hill and beautiful. Thankfully, she still looks small all tucked in under it.

5. Potty: Now she's so big that she wants to use the bathroom alone. (Note that this does not translate into letting ME use the potty alone when we are at home.) I'm still jittery about allowing it in most public places, but now and then I try to give her a little privacy. Obviously, I'm not willing to go very far yet.

 Sigh. The days are long, but the years go by at the speed of light.

Pippipalooza: Things She Loves to Do

Somehow Pippipalooza 2013 came and went already, without a peep here at the blog. My baby girl turned five -- or as she says, "a WHOLE hand" -- at the end of February. In true Convertible Life style, we celebrated the day for a full week. Between the festivities and the rest of life, the blog just couldn't keep up.

But even though Pippi is a second child (or perhaps because of it), I'm trying to be sure she doesn't get slighted (too much). So today is the start of a belated "Five Days of Pippipalooza" blog posts... beginning with five things she loves to do.

It's not exactly news that Pippi has strong opinions. Can't imagine where she got that from (ahem). Sometimes that can be frustrating (to put it mildly), but sometimes it's just fun to watch. Here are five of her favorite activities:

1. Holding babies. I'm not sure if it's some sort of innate female baby-holding urge or just that it makes her feel big and superior, but she loves to sit on the couch and hold a baby. And by that, I mean a real live actual baby -- preferably one who is sleeping. Her current favorite arrived in November, so I'm not sure how much longer she'll be able to wrangle him -- but she sure does love him.
2. Sleeping with her hair in braids. As someone without a single curly hair gene anywhere in her family tree, Pippi is destined to have stick-straight hair. With any luck, she won't have to endure the 80s perms like her mama did. But I still understand the desire for curls. So now and then, I braid her hair into about a dozen little twists at bedtime so that she can wake up to fancy.
3. Coloring with "permanent markers." I do not know who told her about the difference between permanent markers and washable markers. All I know is that she understands the distinction and has determined that permanent markers -- especially Sharpies -- are infinitely superior. For Christmas this year, we gave her a roll of tape and let her  use it however she wanted (which translated to about four dozen original pieces of Pippi art being taped to the walls in her room in whatever places she could climb up and reach). Too bad for her that I'm unlikely to give her similar free reign with a set of Sharpies.
4. Dressing herself. The lack of recent activity on the I Dressed Myself blog is in no way reflective of a lack of self-dressing on Pippi's part. She continues to prefer spring and summer outfits, which I can't really blame her for (as those are my favorites, too) but which are really inappropriate when it's 35 degrees outside. She also loves layering shirts and skirts or pairing leopard print leggings -- and of course, her pink cowgirl boots -- with just about anything.
5. Dancing and singing. By far, dancing and singing are both her favorite things to do and my most favorite things to observe. Sometimes the singing gets a little out of control -- both in volume (so loud and high) and in quality (so many lyrics involving bottoms and what comes out of them). But Pippi has a gift for creating musical medleys to narrate her day or adding her own choreography to songs -- and sometimes both at the same time ("Call Me Maybe" anyone?). 

And now a little party favor for you, courtesy of Pippi herself...

Forty

There's a scene in When Harry Met Sally (which I watched at least 847 times in high school and college) where Sally is sobbing on her bed with Harry about how her ex-boyfriend is getting married and he never really loved her. In the course of her tissue-laden despair, she chokes out the following exchange:

"And I'm going to be 40," Sally sobs.

"When?" Harry asks, puzzled.

"[Sniff, sniff] Some day," she wails.

I used to quote that line all the time with my friends (who also watched the movie 847 times) and laugh because 40 just seemed so impossibly old and far away. Until it wasn't.

Because "some day" turned out to be yesterday.

Just like that I'm 40. And I'm here to tell you that it is SO not at all old.

Everyone keeps asking me how I'm doing. But between the surprise tickets for a date night to see Shawn Colvin (my husband is amazing), sleeping in both days of the weekend (ibid), a pile of cards and well-wishes from my family and friends, and the birthday cake ambushes at our neighborhood Christmas party (complete with a rockstar 80s soundtrack) and my office (I'm very gullible), 40 is turning out to be a lot of fun.

Looking back to my teens and early 20s, I'm not sure where I thought I'd be at 40, so I have no way of knowing if I've arrived. What I do know is that I have a wonderful husband, two beautiful (albeit obnoxious) children, parents and family who love me, a fairly healthy body (thanks in no small part to a kick-ass neighborhood boot camp), really wonderful friends, a good part-time job, a lovely (if messy) house, and too many other blessings to count.

So take that, 40. You don't scare me at all.

J-Fest 2012: How Big is 7?

A few months ago, we were looking at baby pictures of our kids with our kids -- a little trip down online memory lane, telling them stories to go along with the photographs -- when Junius suddenly burst into tears.

"I still want to be a baby," he sobbed. "I don't want to be big anymore."

The big cracking sound that followed was the sound of my heart breaking -- both for him, that he would be so sad about turning into such a wonderful big kid, and for me, because sometimes I wish he were still a baby too.

Since that night, we've been a little more careful to point out the advantages of being big (better food, the ability to read, not having to sit in poo). We've also tried to censor ourselves before we say things like "how did you get so tall?" or "don't grow up too fast!"

The truth is that watching your child grow up is about the craziest science experiment you can witness. When he's just a baby, no matter what Anne Lamott or Einstein might say, it's hard to imagine what he'll be like when he's 7, much less 17.

So for those of you who want to know what 7 (and parts of 6) look like, here's what Junius is doing that's different now from a year ago:

1. The hand-holding days are mostly over. While this is somewhat practical -- it's easier for me to keep a handle on the Pip now that Junius can navigate parking lots and sidewalks on his own -- it still makes me incredibly sad. I love the loose-but-safe feeling of his little hand in mine, but now he just slips free nearly every time I try.
2. Baby is optional -- and by Baby, I mean the small, white bear that he's slept with every night for the past six years and who he used to fake nurse when I was feeding Pippi. You can throw Blanket (with a capital B) in the same category. He still keeps Baby and Blanket in his bed and takes them on car trips -- but when I suggested he might want to put them in his bag for last weekend's sleepover birthday party at a friend's house, he looked at me incredulously and said, "No way, mom. That's for babies." And he slept just fine without them. And he stayed up until midnight playing at the party. Midnight.
3. High dives are there to be conquered. Last week while visiting my parents, Junius decided to go off the high dive -- as in, climb the ladder 10+ feet in the air, stroll to the end of the diving board, jump off without hesitation, smack straight into a huge belly-flop (at which point I stifled a scream and raced walked calmly over to the edge of the pool), swim to the side and climb out like nothing had happened. Of course, about 5 minutes later, the cherry ice he'd eaten before the jump came right back up and landed on my foot. But other than that, the kid was unphased. I am still recovering.
4. He can bargain with the Tooth Fairy. When he lost his front tooth earlier this month, he placed it under his pillow with a note that read, "May I have 5$ [sic] please?" He wrote this because a fifth-grader at his school said he'd asked for $10 and only got $5, so Junius interpreted that to be the Tooth Fairy's limit. And because he asked so politely, the Tooth Fairy totally fell for it.
5. Seven hundred eighty-three pieces are not too many. He pooled the money he got for his birthday (including a "paycheck," as he called it, from his grandparents) and purchased the 783-piece LEGO police station. Then he proceeded to build the entire thing in less than a day with very limited assistance. Seven hundred eighty-three.

I realize that those of you with 10-year-olds or (gasp) teen-agers, this list sounds like small potatoes. But for those of you wondering when your kid will finally be old enough to wipe his own bottom? Just look at all the excitement still ahead!

Now I'm going to go work up a little cry over some baby photos while Junius is asleep...

J-Fest 2012: Blog Post Retrospective

The ol' blog has suffered some in the past year -- every week seems busier than the last, with less and less time for writing. And sadly (at least for me and my interest in actually sitting still and posting), Junius's birthday week has been no exception.

Crazy when real life gets in the way of writing about my real life, huh?

So while I work on getting a few more J posts together, here are some of my favorites from his year of being 6:

• Jan. 17, 2012: Watching Him Go
  Because I'm not sure I'll ever get used to watching him walk away from me, even though that's just what he's been doing since he learned to hold up his own head.
• Dec. 5, 2011: Showing Your Work
  Because my boy is a (qualitative) genius. 
• Nov. 14, 2011: Sign of Fall
  Because he's just so flippin' happy.
• Nov. 3, 2011: A Warning about Halloween Masks
  Because I'm so glad his face isn't frozen like that.
• Aug. 4, 2011: Big Teeth
  Because he might actually be a shark.

J-Fest 2012: Every Age He Ever Was

This is what happens when you blink:

That's my Junius -- from day one to yesterday, when he turned seven. When I look at that progression, it kind of makes my heart ache in ways I don't completely understand.

So instead of trying to find my own words, I'll give you Anne Lamott's instead. I read her Operating Instructions in the final days of my pregnancy and the early days of Juni's newborn chaos -- clutching and grasping at the story of her son's first year, relieved to know I was not alone and that it just might turn out to be worth it. 

Now Lamott's son, Sam, has become a father and together they've written a new book about her grandson's first year. His name is Jax -- he's unplanned, but welcomed with love. In Some Assembly Required, here's how Anne describes watching Sam hold Jax:

"My wild son, who like most boys smashed and bashed his way through childhood, with branches and bats and wooden swords, who shut down and pulled so far away as a teenager that sometimes I could not find him, now taking tender care of his own newborn, a miniature who is both unique and reflective. Sam is still every age he ever was, from the fetus to the infant to the adolescent to the father. And Einstein would probably say that Jax is already every age he will ever be, but in such super-slow motion relative to our limited perspective that we can't see the full spiral of him yet, only this tan bundle of perfect infanthood with a blue butt."

That's what happens when I look at Junius. I see the wiggly fetus and the snuggly baby and the chunky toddler and the smiley preschooler that he once was. And when the light is just right, I get a glimpse of the gangly teen and even the handsome man he will be.


And it just about melts my heart.

Pippipalooza 2012: Blog Post Retrospective

Much to Pippi's chagrin, Pippipalooza 2012 has finally come to a close. She has delivered most of the party thank you notes, played with all of the presents and announced to every man, woman and child within a 10 mile radius that "and also? I am Four."

So I'll close out this year's festivities with a fun photo and a fave five list. The picture is her fancy hairdo that set a new household record -- that's eight rubber bands on one round head. We were proud.

And here are five of my favorite posts that helped to capture her year of being three:

1. Pippi's Morning Mani-Pedi: Nothing beats having an awesome daddy. Especially one who isn't afraid of nail polish.
2. Can Quiet Time Actually Include Some Quiet?: Pippi refuses to nap, then passes out on the stairs (the first time).
3. Late Night Adventures in Parenting: Pippi wakes me in the middle of the night saying, "Mommy, there's gooey on my finger." This can't be good.
4. When Fashion Happens: Pippi dresses herself with hilarious results. I start a new blog. Of course.
5. Name Dropping: Pippi tells me about her new friend. His name is B.B. King.

Catch up on Pippipalooza 2012:

- It's On

- Preschool Musical
- Such a Big Girl
- The Party Plan
- Behind the Party Scenes

Pippipalooza 2012: Behind the Party Scenes

Seems like most anyone planning a kid's birthday party these days is getting ideas from Pinterest. So many adorable photos that hint at all the beauty that could be yours -- if only you had the time, talent or treasure to make it so.

But what Pinterest doesn't show you is the truth about how the ideas -- and the party -- really played out.

Motherhood Uncensored recently wrote about how she longs to see the outtakes of what we portray in blogs -- the blooper reel that shows what life really looks like. The truth is that Pippi's birthday party totally stressed me out. My sweet friends tell me it was fun to attend, but for me it felt like swarming chaos. And I was too focused on being sure that all the kids were busy or that Pippi wasn't naked to be able to actually take in the fun.

So here you go. Here's what wasn't so picture perfect about yesterday's party plan post:

Decorations

• Writing on the door was a cute idea until it occurred to me that Pippi and her friends can't read. And almost a week later it's still there because I haven't stopped long enough to clean it off.
• The balloons on the family room floor were fun -- until they started popping and scared all the kids.
• The shimmer wall left glitter all over the fireplace and the girls were all jockeying to admire themselves in the metallic reflection. Not quite what I intended. 
• All of the decorating and craft prep took longer than I thought it would. Not that it was hard or a lot, but just more than I wanted to do on the weekend.
• The cake decorations turned out awesome -- but I spent two hours the night before the party (keeping me up past midnight) trying to find where I had hidden the package of Polly Pockets so that Pippi wouldn't find them before the party. Turns out they were in a bag in my closet. Where I had looked 18,000 times. And after all that, I'm not sure Pippi even noticed -- but at least the cake was tasty.

Crafts

• I bought way too many stickers. Also, the reason they were all on clearance is that they didn't stick very well to anything. Which sort of defeats the purpose of STICKers.
• Glitter glue is just a bad idea. Very bad. Sadly for you, I was too busy containing it to take a photo.
• I didn't unfold the gift bags, so most of the kids thoroughly decorated the flap that turns into the bottom of the bag. Which was then covered in sticky, wet glitter glue. In retrospect, I should have skipped the bag project.
• The rock star photo head project turned out awesome, but it took much longer than we anticipated to take, download, resize, print, cut out and glue down the photos. Yeah, we should have known better. That meant my husband spent all of the craft and dance portions of the party upstairs at the printer while I was left downstairs drafting other moms into service to help me out.
• If you decide to do the maraca project, be sure to tape or gorilla glue the eggs closed. My husband told me we needed to, but I didn't listen -- had visions of 3-year-olds stuck to the table with glue, but instead got dried beans bouncing all over the floor.

Dance activities

• Dressing up went pretty well -- but it probably would have been funnier if we'd helped each kid find a hat, sunglasses and one other item. As it was, I think some kids got costumes and others didn't, but I'm not sure if they were happy about it.
• Before we told them to dress up, I should have been VERY CLEAR with Pippi that we were dressing up OVER our clothes. As one of my sweet friends pointed out, she only saw Pip in her unders three times during the party. Guess I should just be grateful it wasn't more.
• Freeze Dance would have worked better if I hadn't been losing my voice to allergies. I sounded like someone who smoked eight packs a day, so the kids really couldn't hear me yell "freeze."
• The Pass the Jingle Bells game was a total fail. All they wanted was the candy, so no one wanted to pass the bells -- each kid just clutched the bells until the music stopped while the other kids whined about why couldn't they have any candy.
• Should have set aside one song for Pippi to lead the group in a dance (see above photo for her bossy face) -- it would have been hilarious to watch her teach her friends the "sprinkler" (which she learned at her Baptist preschool, by the way) and then let them all join in. Instead, Pippi yelled in the middle of a song that she wanted to sing Twinkle and when everyone finally started listening, she got shy and hid.
• Should have done more group dance type songs, like the hokey pokey or the dancing directions in "Get Up & Go" (The Biscuit Brothers) or "The Stand Up Song" (Big Bang Boom). This would have required me to get over my self-consciousness and lead said dances instead of just telling them all to dance (see photo below), but it would have been worth it.

Lessons learned

• We invited too many friends. I guess this is a good problem to have because I could not think of anyone on the list not to invite -- but it definitely added to the chaos. Ideally, you'd probably only invite five or six kids to a party like this.
• Should have bribed hired some 10- to 14-year-old kids from the neighborhood to help lead activities. Then I could have spread the crafts out around the house a little more and had some help leading the dances.
• A dance party should have more dancing and less crafting. This seems obvious in retrospect, but not so much during the planning phase.
• Should have set out drinks for grown ups on the counter so they could help themselves. Instead, I totally forgot to offer anyone anything until after we'd served cake. Or now that I think about it, maybe it's just that I should have had a drink before the party started. 

So nothing blow-up-melt-down disastrous -- but not something I'll be attempting again anytime soon. Too bad Pippi has already started planning her fifth birthday.

I've created a monster.

Catch up on Pippipalooza 2012:

- It's On

- Preschool Musical
- Such a Big Girl
- The Party Plan
- Blog Post Retrospective

Pippipalooza 2012: The Party Plan

The greatest challenge about Pippipalooza is that it happens in February. If it were in June, we could have a her party at a park or the pool. But those of you with winter babies know the dilemma of needing to celebrate indoors – pay too much to host a party at some (probably inflatable) venue or risk hosting too many preschoolers in your own home.

Last year we found an indoor city pool that was pretty inexpensive, but this year I decided we could host the party at our house. Seemed like it would cost less than going to a party place, but I could keep the planning to a minimum so that it wouldn’t be too much work. We chose a Rock Star Dance Party theme to incorporate things that Pippi loves best: singing, dancing and dressing up.

Today I will share with you the plan. Tomorrow, I’ll write about what happens when, like most plans of mice and men and moms of preschoolers, those plans do often go awry. For those of you looking for party ideas for kids, read on. For those just looking for the blooper reel, be patient – it’s coming.

I tackled the planning like a good old lesson plan from my teaching days – get organized ahead of time and keep everyone busy during the event to minimize disasters. There were essentially five parts to my plan:

Decorations

To set the tone, we renamed our house “Rock Star Studio.” I used Crayola glass markers (who knew such a thing existed) to decorate the front door with our new name. 

No need to decorate the craft table – all the stickers, gems, crayons, colored pencils, ribbon pieces and glitter glue (mostly courtesy of the dollar bin at Target) provided plenty of decoration for the dining room. I put a bright pink plastic table cloth down first to protect the table and to make clean up easy (I literally rolled everything up in the plastic to clear the table before cake time).

In the family room, we pushed the sofa out of the way and rolled up the rug to make a big open dance floor. My husband graciously blew up balloons in all colors and sizes to bounce around the room and we covered the fireplace with a “shimmer wall” made from metallic and glitter scrapbook background tiles (easier than a disco ball, but the same effect).

Off to the side of the dining room, I stacked the clean table cloth, napkins, paper plates and plastic forks – all matching the adorable Tiny Prints invitations we’d sent. Not that the kids cared, but it made me happy to see them all together with the bright pink tulips Pippi got from her daddy for her birthday.

 

Crafts

Another mom who is wiser than I am hosted her daughter’s 4^th birthday party a couple weeks ago. I learned from her that I would need several crafty projects to keep the kids busy because some of them work really fast (translation: sticker, sticker, and I’m done).

We started by letting the kids decorate their own gift bags – I’d already written their names on paper lunch sacks, then they customized their bags using the mounds of stickers, sticky gems, crayons, colored pencils, ribbon pieces and glitter glue on the table.

Next we handed them a printed outline of a rock star (in pants for the boys, in a skirt for the girls) so they could color it before we taped it around an empty toilet paper roll.  

Meanwhile, my husband took a photo of each kid on the way in and was upstairs printing the photos to cut out and glue in place of the outline face. Instant (hilarious) personalized rock star puppets.

Then we let them decorate the item every rock star needs: a microphone. These mics are actually mini lint rollers (2 for $1) wrapped in black construction paper -- so a project for the kid that becomes a useful tool for the parents later on. Win-win!

And finally, it's just not a rock star party without a way to make some noise. So we filled plastic eggs with dried beans, decorated the outside and voila -- maraca!

Dance activities

As the kids completed their crafty projects, we ushered them into the family room to dress up for the dancing. 

We had plenty of hats, scarves, jewelry, shoes and fancy things from Pippi's dress-up drawer to go around -- plus we gave each kid some bright sunglasses (again with the $1 bin). We also had a tattoo station set up in the kitchen with plenty of butterfly, guitar, robot and fairy tattoos -- just no piercings.

Once we got them all rocked up, we cranked up the kid-friendly, parent-approved tunes to play dancing games. Started with the crowd favorite Freeze Dance, followed by a kinder-gentler twist on Musical Chairs where they passed around some jingle bells until the music stopped. The kid holding the bells was out, but got a piece candy -- and repeat, until all the kids are out. We wrapped up with a free dance to get everyone good and sweaty before cake.

 Cake

I made my first birthday cake for Junius last year, so I figured I could pull it off again for Pippi. I'm not much of a baker/cake decorator, so I opted to use Polly Pocket dolls to stage a rock band on a confetti stage. And thanks to my brilliant husband, who outfitted two of the Pollys with custom (cardboard) electric guitars.

Favors

After we filled them up with cake and juice boxes, we packed all their crafts and sunglasses into the decorated gift bags -- plus a mix CD of some of Pippi's favorite tunes.

And then they all went home.

Picture perfect party, right? Well, sorta. Stay tuned for the stuff they don't tell you on Pinterest...

Catch up on Pippipalooza 2012:

- It's On

- Preschool Musical
- Such a Big Girl
- Behind the Party Scenes
- Blog Post Retrospective

Pippipalooza 2012: Such a Big Girl

Pippi is growing up even faster than Junius did -- the blessing and curse of a second baby, I guess. One minute she looks like a toddler, the next minute more like a 10-year-old.

But there are a few baby-ish things I'm clinging to. I just hope she'll let me for a little while longer.

1. Nighttime snuggling: Pippi is fully potty-trained now, even at night. But we cheat a little by taking her (mostly asleep) to pee before we go to bed. When I carry her back to her room, I stand by the bed and snuggle with her for a minute or two. It's not quite the same, as her legs are dangling down for what seems like miles -- but it's still a small reminder of when she was a baby and still snuggling in to nurse at night.
2. Cute talking: It's been said that the nut seldom falls far from the tree. And when it comes to talking a blue streak, that's certainly true for the Pip. She's learning words like "exquisite" and "fascinating" thanks to Sesame Street and Fancy Nancy, so her vocabulary is keeping up the pace. But she still says "merfume" instead of "perfume," "mackin" instead of "napkin," "nimp" instead of "mint," and "kank you" instead of "thank you." You will not hear me correcting her anytime soon.
3. Couch napping: Pippi gave up the nap about a year ago. It was both a relief (to not have to schedule around it) and a heartbreak (to not have that quiet hour), but she was ready. Still, now and then she wears herself out enough (or wakes up painfully early enough) that she'll curl up with us on the couch and fall asleep. Her cheeks flush, her lips pouf out, her lashes brush against her face -- and in that sweet moment tucked into my arm, I can still see her babyness lingering under her big girl look.
4. Book cuddling: As a book nerd, I find some of my favorite moments with my children are those spent reading. Junius doesn't fit very well on my lap anymore, but Pippi can still curl up just enough that we can cuddle when we read. It doesn't last long before her legs unfurl, but I love feeling the weight of her leaning back against me while we enjoy reading together.
5. Bedtime kissing: After Pippi falls alseep at night (in her very big girl bed, of course), I go back in to check on her. She still spins and twists during her sleep, so we never know quite where she might be in the bed or which direction she might be facing. But once I find her, I lean in for one more goodnight kiss on the cheek -- her cheeks are about the only part of her that's still plump with baby fat and it's almost like kissing a marshmallow (not that I've done that, but it's what I imagine it would feel like). 

What treasured remnants of baby-hood are you clinging to at your house -- or what do you miss from those sweet early years? Or, if you're in the throes of those not-actually-always-sweet early years, what baby moments are you ready to be rid of?

Catch up on Pippipalooza 2012:

- It's On

- Preschool Musical
- The Party Plan
- Behind the Party Scenes

- Blog Post Retrospective

Pippipalooza 2012: Preschool Musical

Pippi is now officially 4.

She's had her school-special-snack party, her family-goes-out-to-dinner party and her invite-too-many-friends-to-the-house-for-cake party. She loved every minute -- the rest of us are still recovering.

So while I collect myself enough to be able to write about the festivities and about our Princess Pip, you can entertain yourself with the playlist I used for her CD party favors.

 The Pippipalooza Dance Party Like a Rock Star Mix

1. Big Bang Boom (Part 1) – Big Bang Boom
2. High Five! – They Might Be Giants
3. Get Up and Go – The Biscuit Brothers
4. It Makes You Feel Good – Renee & Jeremy
5. Mahna Mahna – CAKE
6. Molly the Moose – Ira Marlowe
7. I Never Go to Work – They Might Be Giants
8. Stand Up Song – Big Bang Boom
9. The Hoppity Song – John Ondrasik
10. D Is for Drums – They Might Be Giants
11. Drawing – Barenaked Ladies
12. Dance Party – The Biscuit Brothers (Buttermilk)
13. C’mon – Renee & Jeremy
14. Ooh La! Ooh La! – They Might Be Giants
15. No Hands Band – Ray “Walrus” Laughran (on BBB)
16. Big Bang Book (Part 2) – Big Bang Boom

All of these songs (and the albums they came from) are technically kid songs, but they're ones that pass the parent test -- that is, kid songs that even the parents like.

You're welcome.

Note: Referencing this post title, if you haven't seen the Sesame Street "Preschool Musical" sketch, it's worth watching.

Catch up on Pippipalooza 2012:

- It's On
- Such a Big Girl
- The Party Plan

- Behind the Party Scenes
- Blog Post Retrospective

Pippipalooza 2012: It's On

Hard to believe, but it's already time for Pippipalooza again -- my baby girl turned four today.

Four.

There's been lots of time spent lately on everything except blogging, but I hope to catch up soon. In the meantime, you can celebrate with Pippi by checking out her post from Monday on I Dressed Myself. See how she can turn one set of clothes into three outfits over the course of one day.

Just one of her many amazing talents.

Happy birthday, baby girl!

And in case that's not enough, you can always go back in time:
Pippipalooza 2011
Pippipalooza 2010 (which was really only one post)

Catch up on Pippipalooza 2012:

- Preschool Musical

- Such a Big Girl
- The Party Plan

- Behind the Party Scenes
- Blog Post Retrospective

J-Fest 2011: Blog Post Retrospective

A lot happens around here in the course of a year. So it's great to have the blog to look back through things we've already forgotten.

Today Junius is officially six. As in, closer to 10 than birth. I suspect that if I blink slowly, I'll open my eyes to discover that he's 16. Gulp.

Here, for your reading pleasure in chronological order, are five of my favorite Junius posts (plus one to grow on) from the past year...

1. First Day of Kindergarten (Aug. 4, 2010): The backpack looked so big and he looked so little. But he wasn't nearly as emotional about the day as his mommy was.
2. Carolina Hurricanes Bring on the Fun (Sept. 19, 2010): Junius has turned out to be quite the serious hockey fan. Thankfully, there's a lot of fun that comes along with that.
3. You've Got a Friend in Junius (Jan. 31, 2011): One of my proudest moments during the school year wasn't about Junius' academic performance.
4. The F-Word (April 5, 2011): Junius is a bit of a tattle-tale. But sometimes, his tattling is hilarious -- like in this episode about his sister's language.
5. Sign That Summer Is Coming (May 13, 2011): Junebug + friend + slip-n-slide = summer. It's good times in the front yard.
6. Hair (June 14, 2011): Juni and I both got lots of cool points for this one. We also had to buy new hair product.

Happy birthday, Junius! May the coming year be just as amazing!

Click these links for favorite posts from Junius' 5th birthday and 4th birthday. And feel free to share your favorite Junius story in the comments below.
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J-Fest 2011: Celebrate Good Times

Junius takes after his mom when it comes to celebrating birthday -- counting down for months in advance and then extending the party as long as humanly possible. And why shouldn't we? No matter how old you get, having a birthday is always better than the alternative, so you might as well make it worthwhile.

If you thought that J-Fest was just a blogging activity, you'd be wrong. We've actually been celebrating Junius and his birthday in various ways since the last week of June. Not cake and candles every day, but doing a variety of things specially for him.

Here are five ways Junius is celebrating his 6th birthday:

1. Cupcakes at school: Even though he goes to a year-round elementary school, he's still tracked out in July. So we took cupcakes to share with his classmates on the last day of school -- he got to wear the birthday crown and have everyone sing "Happy Birthday" to him in the cafeteria.
2. Touring the museum: Junius loves a museum. I'm not always sure why, but I think it just seems a little exotic to him. So on July 4th, we took our patriotic selves downtown to the NC Museum of History -- armed with an activity pack from the front desk, we explored our state's history from the American Indians to the NC Sports Hall of Fame (including a look at Richard Petty's race car).
3. Camping at the beach:We took our first family-of-four camping trip at the beach this week (see photo, with more posts to come next week). Junius has been begging for all of us to go, so this seemed like the perfect time to grant his request. We also came home a little earlier than planned, so Junius and I snuck in some free bowling at Sparians, a bonus trip to Marbles and a lunch date at Bruegger's.
4. Sleepover with "cousins": One of our most favorite families recently moved away, but they're making the trip back to town for our celebrations. That means we get a bonus party with Ms. B and our fake cousins, who will be spending the night at our house. Hoping he enjoys the sleepover with pretty girls when he's six because it won't be happening when he's turning 16.
5. Movie party with friends: The official party on his official day will include taking Junius and his closest friends to see Cars 2 at the movie theater. Nothing like a row full of 6-year-old boys and girls to make a movie extra entertaining. And of course, there will be cake -- which Junius and I are attempting to make together for the first time. (Yikes.)

Hope your birthday celebrations are just as awesome! And if you've missed the first few days of J-Fest 2011, check out these posts:

• Mr. Big Stuff
• Decisions He Made
• A Few of His Favorite Things