Pillow Talk

I love being married. It can be a helluva lot of work -- don't get me wrong -- but as a package deal, it's the greatest plan ever.

Among the things I love most about being married? I'm like a kid at a sleepover. Every. Single. Night.

I was always that kid at sleepovers, the last one whispering into the darkness "Is anyone else still awake?" I treasured the talking for what seemed like hours in the half-light of sleeping bags and pillows as my friends drifted off to sleep one by one. The conversations never really ended, they just got quieter and slower to be continued another day. 

Many nights now as the clock ticks toward midnight, my husband finally leans over, kisses me and says, "You can keep talking if you want to, but I'm falling asleep."

My love of the (bedtime) chat seems to have been genetically passed on to my children, who talk continuously without breaking for breath during the day and don't really slow down at night either. So I probably shouldn't have been surprised when they started sharing a room. 

It happened at first as a special "sibling sleepover" treat one weekend when I was out of town. Junius moved up to his top bunk, while Pippi assembled her own pillows, blankets and friends on his bottom bunk. They had fun pretending to camp together, and my husband had an easier time putting them to bed when he didn't have to bounce back and forth between their two rooms. 

That was two months ago.

Any day now, I keep thinking she'll want to go back to her double bed and all her own space. Or that he'll get tired of her stuff in his room and kick her down the hall. Instead, the only change they've made is to trade bunks.

They even asked if we could turn her room into a play space instead of a bedroom. I said no, knowing that three minutes after I finish, I'll have to turn it right back. 

But it doesn't matter how long it lasts, this bunk-sharing approach. All that matters is that I will always know -- and hopefully they will remember -- that it ever was. That there once was a time when they shushed each other to sleep because they loved each other enough to tolerate the one sneezing and humming while the other tosses and rattles the beds in exchange for being together just a little bit longer. 

Instagram Smiles: The True Story Behind the Photo

Instagram is rapidly becoming one of my favorite social networks.

It's a quick, fun glimpse into the lives of my friends (both those I know in person and those I know only online) without all the extra baggage that comes with Facebook -- but it also posts to Facebook, so my friends who aren't on Instagram can still participate.

Plus it's a fun way to pretend that I have some sort of photography skill, which at least keeps me entertained even if no one else is paying attention.

Here's a photo I posted recently on Instagram:

We were in the convertible with the top down -- my husband was driving, so I had the luxury of taking silly photos with my kids. In online responses to the photo, I got comments like "I love your happy children" and lots of "likes."

But in the interest of full disclosure, I must confess that the real scene was not so happy. Here's what I didn't post on Instagram from the same ride home:

That's Junius banging his enormous hard head into his sister's equally enormous hard head, causing her to shriek dramatically in (presumably fake) pain.

So I fussed at him for "hurting" her and he proceeded to pout, duck down and hide behind my seat. I took about four photos like this while I tried to coax him back out again. He mostly moaned, groaned, whined and complained. Notice that Pippi is now only too happy to lean in and smile.

Then he finally sat back up in his seat, but refused to smile or look at me. The two of them took turns (hey -- at least they're sharing, right?) pushing and shoving against each other -- a dramatic re-enactment of the irresistible force paradox.

Eventually he gave up (she's younger, but I think her head is actually bigger), sat back and glared at me. In this photo it almost looks like he wants to smile, but I assure you he did not. As for her? Well, her favorite shtick is to be the opposite of him -- the grumpier he gets, the sillier she becomes.

Nothing like a 6-year-old grouch to take all the sunshine out of driving home with the top down.

For more stylish photos -- including one of my "dessert" cereal from last night -- you can find me on Instagram (and Twitter) @convertiblelife. This post was nudged by my friend Ms. S and by Mama Kat's Writing Prompts.

A Week in My Life: Monday

This week I'm participating in Adventuroo's "A Week in My Life" project. In case you wondered what it looks like where I am. Apologies in advance if you're exhausted by Wednesday.

Junius is tracked out this week, so he got to hang out with me at work this morning. Thankfully, he had Daddy's iPad and could watch Toy Story 3 while he ate lunch. He pronounced my office "boring." He's absolutely probably right.

But at least I made a lot of progress on my to-do list today. Turns out that having Junius at my desk is a lot less distracting than having to go to meetings, which were cancelled today.

Even though he got to have pumpkin bread and play with the tape dispenser, Junius was still happy when it was time to leave.

We picked up campaign materials on the way home (the kids and I are volunteering for Christine Kushner at the polls tomorrow!), then went to preschool to get Pippi.

 This is my view in the rearview mirror.

Not sure I'll ever understand why climbing out of the car and carrying your own stuff into the house is so hard. But apparently it is. So. Very. Hard.

Junius's first task after arriving home? Testing out the paper/straw boat he made in my office to see if it would float. Turns out that construction paper? Not so sea-worthy.

Meanwhile, Pippi took control of the iPhone, where she recently discovered the iPod button. She likes to listen to the first 15 seconds of every song. Yes, that's Ben Folds Five. Thankfully it's not one of the songs with the F-bomb.

Here's the bane of my existence. A full dishwasher, waiting to be unloaded. Sort of like Pippi getting out of the car, I don't know why this pains me so. But it does.

While I was unloading said dishwasher, the kids started to get silly. It always begins innocently enough...

...then turns into a wrestling, giggling heap, which is all good and fun until...

...somebody gets poked in the eye...

 ...and (unrelated to the eye wound) someone else lands in time-out.

We ultimately all recovered and were grateful for some playtime outside with our friends across the street. Notice that Junius is travelling sans-training wheels as of yesterday. (Also, if you are a mom with a son, you must take a minute to read my friend's latest post.)

We closed out the day with one of the kids' favorite meals. That is, anything served on the floor in front of the television. Always swore I wouldn't let my kids watch TV during dinner. And yet, here we are. At least we were watching Sesame Street and talking science terms with Grover 2.0.

Good night, y'all. It's been a full day.

P.S. In case you missed the good news on Facebook or Twitter Friday, I got the all clear at the dermatologist! I'm free for another six months. Phew.
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For My Brother

When my brother and I were little, we were fast playmates -- until we started fighting, of course, but we always made up eventually. Legos, house, Star Wars, school, Battleship, cops-and-robbers, kick ball, we played it all.

Part of what I love about having two kids is watching them play together and remembering those fun times from my own childhood.

Now that my brother and I are (allegedly) grown-ups, we've found ourselves on very different paths. I did the more-or-less traditional college-job-grad school-marriage-job-babies route. My brother? Not so much.

Only four years apart in age, but light years apart in other ways -- and yet we're still those same two playmates at heart, still able to make each other laugh.

This week my younger (but now much taller) brother is starting out on a new path.

It's his story to tell, not mine -- so we'll leave it at that.

But I thought that with all the collective strength and positive energy (and prayers, if you say them) out there in the bloggy world, that maybe we could send him off with a powerful force of hope and light to guide his way.

He's picked a much harder path than I did. But I'm trusting that his road-less-traveled strategy will pay off in the long run.
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Friday's Five: The Best Big Brother

My baby girl is about to turn two (yikes!), but before she was born I worried (like many other moms) about what her arrival would do to my first-born. How would I be able to love and care for both of them? Would Junius resent having to share me and his dad with a new baby? What if he didn't love her because she knocked him loose from his position as sole center of the universe?

At the time, I turned to the world's greatest resource -- mom friends with more than one child -- and this is what they told me: "Just as beautiful as loving your own child is watching your children love each other. Oh, and sometimes they will fight and hate each other, too." The truth is that somehow we, as parents, stretch and grow to do everything (including love) with two -- and our children do, too. And for every minute of one-on-one parent time that Junius got, Pippi gets the bonus of one-on-one time with an awesome brother.

For my many friends having second babies, here are some things to look forward to... My list of five things I love about Junius as a big brother:

1. When Pippi was a newborn, Junius loved to bring his toys over to her so she could "play" with him. This basically meant he piled his cars and trucks on top of her while she sat there (see photo). Although she couldn't really participate, I loved that a) he wanted to engage with her in such a sweet way and b) it kept them both entertained for a few minutes.
2. More recently, we've been teaching Pip to use the potty. When she goes, her favorite part is calling for Juni so she can show him what's in the potty (as she says, looking awestruck, "biiiiiig poop") and watching him clap and cheer for her. It's become a full-family event.
3. They love hiding together -- in the play tent, under the kitchen table, even tucked behind the corner. Junius usually starts it by inviting her in, then she happily ducks into his hiding space where they proceed to giggle until someone "finds" them.
4. Because they've been at the same preschool for the past two years, they get to see each other occasionally on the playground. Pippi's class plays in the fenced-in baby areas, so Junius makes a point of coming over to visit -- makes her feel very important.
5. The big win-win-win of the big brother is the early mornings. If Junius wakes up early, followed closely by the Pip, sometimes he'll go into her room and chat with her or pretend to read books to her. He likes having an audience, she likes being entertained, and Mommy and Daddy like getting an extra 10 minutes before facing the day.