And so it begins...

I love company when I'm heading to the bathroom. I guess we all do. Addie is taking more of an interest in the potty, as is Hauk. Hauk has a frog potty, and Addie was sad she didn't, so I drew a bear on the front of hers (since lately she says she is a bear) and she helped color it. Addie now announces she is peeing in her diaper or that she has to poop. And she tells me to beat it when she has to poop, because clearly it requires concentration, and she doesn't need any distractions (thank you very much). This last bit was Gillian in the two months preceding potty training. She'd say-"I have to go potty. Mama go 'way."

Addie has some cloth pullups, and she wears them sometimes. We need to commit to this, but our lazy approach worked like a charm the last time. So, I am telling you-she is starting down the road to full blown toddlerdom, and her baby self if fading into the shadows-which makes me feel fatalistic about all of it. I sold our cloth diapers to a woman last night. And it was hard and made me want to cry, because if things were different, we could probably have that third baby. But it's expensive here, and our closest family is 1000 miles away. And that's the reality. *sigh*

Life in technicolor

I love this girl.... ♥

This.

Every now and then, I read something on parenting that makes me want to weep and laugh and sing "Amen, SING IT!". So, an article has been sweeping through my friends that did just that. I am pasting it below, but it originally appeared in the Huffington Post (by Glennon Melton, called "Don't Carpe Diem"). Melton muses that the struggle is the norm in parenting and bliss intermittently intrudes in the struggling to make the trip worthwhile.

I love her distinction between the duality of monotony of the grind and the transformational timelessness of being fully present, and fully grateful. I love this quote: "Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos."

It's funny how timely this article is. I was just talking to A&R about how mind-numbingly exhausting it can be, this parenting thing. And how NO ONE talks about it. And how if you talk about it, you feel like you are whining and that we really are only allowed to suffer in silence because everyone else makes raising children look like a cakewalk. And you might think "Jesus, I am alone here...I am clearly not doing this right or it would be less painful/exhausting". But truly, every single one of us has different challenges. I have never sugar coated here or sitting with friends what it has been to parent my girls, because I can't imagine being a person that makes someone else question their own skills by pretending everything is kittens and sunshine every second around here. Some days have more glitter that than others, but I totally get the idea that those Kairos moments pull us out of the haze that repetition and person-building can put a parent in.

So, we all want to cry some days. We all want to strangle our children when they keep laying down on the filthy, snow tracked wet, salty floor at the grocery store because you won't let them have something they want and don't need. We all have days like last Saturday when I was looking for my rental car keys for over 2 hours and collapsed into a stressed heap because our car was ready for pick up at the body shop and the rental car had to go back by noon or wait 3 days to return it (holiday) and it would cost something like $700 to replace the key....and then I asked Gillian "can you help me find it?" and she went right over to the cabinet and pulled them out from behind the DVD player. She put them there to "keep Addie from getting them"...I won't even consider that she did that on purpose because she wanted to go sledding too, but we were looking for 2+ hours, and Sean was mad at me for misplacing them, and I was defensive because I knew it wasn't my fault....or the times when the fighting and whining and back talk result in half the day in time out. I swear it is beyond the pale to create and reinforce the boundaries every single second of every single day. But we soldier on.

I want to hug all of you raising babies, because it sure sucks sometimes. And we ALWAYS feel like we have to qualify it with "but I would do it all again" or "but I wouldn't change it for the world" lest anyone think we could ever resent our little angels, even for a second. It's a tricky balance to do all this and not lose your soul. I hope I never tell someone the obvious-that their parenting the young ones is a blink in the grand scheme of life-and that they should enjoy it. Because DUH. And every comment like that reminds me of when asked about Gillian's traumatic entry into the world and I would try to share the pain of my birth experience, people would insensitively observe, "well, you have a healthy baby, and you are OK, so WIN-WIN! (stop bitching, you are fine! who cares what your vision of entering a completely new phase of life looked like!!!). It completely marginalizes your human experience into one self-righteous, smug little comment. Well, at the end of the day, and the end of my life, what I will remember about parenting are moments. All strung together into something I can wrap myself in to stay warm when I need warmth. To remember what the whole point was of all of this.

I like what Glennon said she will say to young mothers when she is the old lady at the grocery store:
"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."

Amen. Toast and lift eachother up. And celebrate this person-making/cultivating thing. The single most important job of all. After all-that person you laid the foundation for with your blood, sweat, and tears could change the whole world.

******************************************************************************
Don't Carpe Diem (Glennon Melton)
Every time I'm out with my kids -- this seems to happen:
An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says something like, "Oh, Enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast."

Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, raise my awareness, be happy, enjoy every second, etc, etc, etc.

I know that this message is right and good. But, I have finally allowed myself to admit that it just doesn't work for me. It bugs me. This CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky. Especially during this phase of my life - while I'm raising young kids. Being told, in a million different ways to CARPE DIEM makes me worry that if I'm not in a constant state of intense gratitude and ecstasy, I'm doing something wrong.

I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.

And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers -- "ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T!" TRUST US!! IT'LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!" -- those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.

Now. I'm not suggesting that the sweet old ladies who tell me to ENJOY MYSELF be thrown from a mountain. These are wonderful ladies. Monkees, probably. But last week, a woman approached me in the Target line and said the following: "Sugar, I hope you are enjoying this. I loved every single second of parenting my two girls. Every single moment. These days go by so fast."

At that particular moment, Amma had arranged one of the new bras I was buying on top of her sweater and was sucking a lollipop that she must have found on the ground. She also had three shop-lifted clip-on neon feathers stuck in her hair. She looked exactly like a contestant from Toddlers and Tiaras. I couldn't find Chase anywhere, and Tish was grabbing the pen on the credit card swiper thing WHILE the woman in front of me was trying to use it. And so I just looked at the woman, smiled and said, "Thank you. Yes. Me too. I am enjoying every single moment. Especially this one. Yes. Thank you."

That's not exactly what I wanted to say, though.

There was a famous writer who, when asked if he loved writing, replied, "No. but I love having written." What I wanted to say to this sweet woman was, "Are you sure? Are you sure you don't mean you love having parented?"

I love having written. And I love having parented. My favorite part of each day is when the kids are put to sleep (to bed) and Craig and I sink into the couch to watch some quality TV, like Celebrity Wife Swap, and congratulate each other on a job well done. Or a job done, at least.

Every time I write a post like this, I get emails suggesting that I'm being negative. I have received this particular message four or five times -- G, if you can't handle the three you have, why do you want a fourth?

That one always stings, and I don't think it's quite fair. Parenting is hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the second a mother admits that it's hard, people feel the need to suggest that maybe she's not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn't add more to her load. Maybe the fact that it's so hard means she IS doing it right...in her own way...and she happens to be honest.

Craig is a software salesman. It's a hard job in this economy. And he comes home each day and talks a little bit about how hard it is. And I don't ever feel the need to suggest that he's not doing it right, or that he's negative for noticing that it's hard, or that maybe he shouldn't even consider taking on more responsibility. And I doubt anybody comes by his office to make sure he's ENJOYING HIMSELF. I doubt his boss peeks in his office and says: "This career stuff...it goes by so fast...ARE YOU ENJOYING EVERY MOMENT IN THERE, CRAIG???? CARPE DIEM, CRAIG!"

My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and the kids would be gone, and I'd be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No.

But the fact remains that I will be that nostalgic lady. I just hope to be one with a clear memory. And here's what I hope to say to the younger mama gritting her teeth in line:

"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."

Anyway. Clearly, Carpe Diem doesn't work for me. I can't even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.

Here's what does work for me:
There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It's regular time, it's one minute at a time, it's staring down the clock till bedtime time, it's ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it's four screaming minutes in time out time, it's two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.

Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos.

Like when I'm stuck in chronos time in the grocery line and I'm haggard and annoyed and angry at the slow check-out clerk. And then I look at my cart and I'm transported out of chronos. And suddenly I notice the piles and piles of healthy food I'll feed my children to grow their bodies and minds and I remember that most of the world's mamas would kill for this opportunity. This chance to stand in a grocery line with enough money to pay. And I just stare at my cart. At the abundance. The bounty. Thank you, God. Kairos.

Or when I curl up in my cozy bed with Theo asleep at my feet and Craig asleep by my side and I listen to them both breathing. And for a moment, I think- how did a girl like me get so lucky? To go to bed each night surrounded by this breath, this love, this peace, this warmth? Kairos.

These kairos moments leave as fast as they come- but I mark them. I say the word kairos in my head each time I leave chronos. And at the end of the day, I don't remember exactly what my kairos moments were, but I remember I had them. And that makes the pain of the daily parenting climb worth it.

If I had a couple Kairos moments during the day, I call it a success.

Carpe a couple of Kairoses a day.

Good enough for me.

Around the house

It's sooooo cozy with the snow coming down and the fireplace going and two little angels sleeping soundly in their little beds. I see snowmen and sledding in our future, but for tonight a couple more videos, since I made a major dent in my 2 year backlog over the weekend.

So, here's what a casual lunch conversation is like with Addie:


And here's how Gillian is doing on piano. She's reading music decently well after a year of lessons. Did I mention she begs to practice?  Seriously. And they both LOVE broccoli. I guess I deserve a break every now and then!

Gratitude

Yesterday I was sitting in music class with Adelaide, watching her twirl in the shower of bubbles and dance to the teacher's music and run joyfully around the room, her little curly ponytails bobbing with pristine innocence. I was struck by her purity, like lightening hit me. And I got teary, because parenting my Adelaide is probably the last time I will revel in the sweetness that is having a two year old. I just couldn't stop being grateful for this precious little girl God gave me.

This is my favorite age...because we can talk, and the abstract ways she is putting the universe together delights me and she is so simple and logical still in her thinking. She isn't manipulative, or conniving, or consciously selfish. She is pure emotion. Those days for Gillian are long gone, and though I love love love her, I miss her 2 year old self that was so completely unfiltered by her own desires.

When Addie feels overcome with emotion, she throws her little arms around my neck and tells me she loves me. Lately, she's been throwing in "you're beautiful" after "I love you SO much" for good measure. If that doesn't humble a person... and her sweet little kisses with the "mmmmmmmmmmm-mwa!" are the best, even if those wet little kisses make me sick constantly. If she doesn't have a good word for something, she makes one up. Like Cecegon ("what's a cecegon?", "it's a cecegon!"). She loves the simplicity of things and appreciates kindness. She is completely wide open, the way we all should be. The way we all were before we got our hearts broken or were disappointed over and over again or realized that people can be unkind. If we could keep holding on to that sense that love underlies the whole world, and that loving people can make anything better-well, then it would be a perfect world. She's just closer to the source, and because of that she is infinitely wise. Ironic how we all spend our entire lives trying and preparing to get back where we started.

Ahhhh.....Music

Music is very very important in this house, as those of you who know us personally are aware. I credit it with saving me from my white trash fate (completely) and I started playing classical saxophone at age 12. I got a music scholarship and went to USF with a major in music performance. I went on to perform on a couple of influential indie albums and am now happy to back Sean up on guitar or banjo when I have the time to learn a tune (which, sadly, is almost never, but I have high hopes for the fall, when I will always have an entire day to myself every week!!!). Sean started playing classical guitar at age 12 and now plays just about everything you can imagine and has become a semi-expert on Irish, Cajun, Old Time, and Bluegrass music. And he makes violin-family stringed instruments. So, the girls will always play something beautiful.

Addie started a movement and music class last January called Wiggleworms. Gillian started piano a year ago last January with her school music teacher, which has gone swimmingly. She started learning the suzuki violin method at the Music Institute of Chicago in September. So we are cultivating the ability to learn to read music (piano) and to develop her ear and technique bowing (violin). The Suzuki program is a very classical, very regimented program at MIC. Gillian has 2 lessons a week-one group, one private. It costs a small fortune, but it is really important to us, so we make it a priority. She started in a "sampler" class with a very strict, very pretty young teacher that was not impressed by Gillian's initial obnoxious efforts to get her attention. She is the absolute perfect compliment to Gillian's personality, and her matter-of-factness and her ability to remain separate from but supportive of our child made us choose her to be Gillian's private instructor.

Gillian started the sampler class with a cardboard wheat thins box that we were to decorate. So, we did, in all it's hot-pink-with-heart-stickers glory (the teacher noted that the "f-holes" were remarkably professional-looking for a 5 year old (thanks, violin-maker papa!):

She worked with this box-proper posture, proper handling, proper care-for 7 weeks, and picked up a real instrument the last week of the class. She had to EARN the right to pick up a real instrument. By that time she was dying to. She picked up with the two-class schedule in November. So far it has been excellent. Here are a couple of recent videos, which Sean recorded for his own benefit to know how to help Gillian learn. One thing is sure-this is as much work (if not more) for Sean as it is for Gillian. He learns the piano accompaniment to help her practice. She practices music (piano or violin or both) every day, for about 10-15 minutes. And she's doing great!

Addie will probably start at MIC in the same program when she's 4. By then she will have been in music classes for 2.5 years, and should be ready (I didn't do a continuous program with her as I have done with Addie). We are considering having Gillian give cello a try given her height, but for now we are sticking with the current routine. I hope the future prodigious Gillian looks back on these first baby steps with some amount of sweetness-because we are here, at the beginning of her gift. How wonderful to be able to watch her refine and expand it!

Random Things Seem to Happen Around Here



About a week ago, we noticed this guy sleeping next to our front door, somehow (hanging from his toenails?) attached to the brick facade of our building. We humored the idea that maybe he was sleeping and tried to keep our animal-infatuated Addie from trying to put him in her pocket. Well, because bats aren't all cute and fuzzy with their rabies and lice (this was a delicate conversation..didn't want to burst the girls' collective bubbles or anything, but also didn't want them to turn into zombies after getting bitten by this thing and traumatized for life), we had or reservations.

Because, this is the Mr. Hyde version.

Photo from: http://www.wildernessclassroom.com/www/schoolhouse/rainforest_library/animal_library/bat.htm
So, this spawned an entire three day marathon of you tube bat watching and bat antics around here like this one:



After three days, I got close enough to look and see if our bat was breathing...I didn't see evidence of living, then I blew on him and he sighed, so we knew he was alive. Sean was worried about a dog getting bitten by him, so he called animal control. Animal control trapped him and he was hissing in the container like Mr. Hyde. Gillian asked what they were going to do with him. I told her they were taking him back to his mama and papa because he got lost. Didn't feel like explaining why he was really going to buy the proverbial farm.

This episode was almost as weird as trying to explain why that squirrel ate her babies.

2011 in Review

This is pre-dated to January 1, which is when I intended to write my ruminations on the past year. And when you have kids, every year is one of monumental change and accomplishments. Changes are seen and unseen. Growth is external and internal. The school of this life makes us eternal students, and at the same time, eachother's teachers. Lao Tzu said "what is a good man but a bad man's teacher? what is a bad man but a good man's job?" Not that anyone is good or bad. We all have the same drop of divinity inside us; we all hail from the great beyond. It's like Gillian once said to me of a kid at school "he's not a bad boy, Mama, he just does bad things." We become what we are to teach and learn with one another in this blink of a life.

This year, like every year, I have been humbled by my children who are my greatest teachers. They remind me that we live in a beautiful world. They remind me that some qualities-those of joy and wonder, for example-are our natural state of being, and that the influences of the world also bring heartbreak and shame. Heartbreak and shame are necessary, because they give us context for our joy and shape our morality. Circumstances give opportunity for growth and learning, too. At this very moment, God is driving me back into myself for peace. Sometimes in our fear and our suffering, we have to learn to sit with our discomfort, to make peace with it. I am still struggling with a (work) situation in my life because I have not accepted it. Some days are better than others sitting with it, but truthfully, I have not found peace. Ironically, this has been one of the greatest challenges of my life because it lacks definition. I have lost close family to cancer and heart disease, I have survived childhood abuse, I have managed to come from poverty to a place of relative comfort...but this trumps them all because I don't understand why it happened. And compared to all those things, it is so small. But here I am, another year later, and I am still not there yet. Recently, I also have lost a good friend for reasons I don't fully understand. So, it's time to do some internal work to learn to let go and let things be what they are without forcing.

My resolve this year is to not let emotional and physical distractions remove my experience from being fully present with my family, but even more importantly, with myself. I want to walk out of my office every day and not think about it again until I arrive for the next work day. I want to spend less time with technology, and more time digging into my role playing Princess. I want to get off the internet and read more novels. I want to simplify my existence. I mean, to be clear, I waste time almost exclusively when the girls are sleeping or watching a show. But, I have this nagging feeling that wasting any time at all is absurd when there is so much life to live! I want to make a point of meditating twice a day, every day, to touch base with me, and to make time for yoga regularly. I am not nearly as bad about being with the kids as I feel, and Sean always kindof snorts when I'm hard on myself about not spending enough quality time with them and says, "you spend every second of your life with the kids! what are you talking about!?!"  Because, you see, I married an unintentional Buddhist. Sean has this laser view of the world, and doesn't let emotion reign his view. He knows one great hour with the kids is better than eight mediocre ones in the grand scheme of their overall contentedness and memory. And he is OK with that. He takes that vital time for himself that I don't to recharge. He doesn't work as hard as I do to make EVERY hour one for posterity. Maybe my inherent overachievement pushes me to conform to some unattainable mother ideal that I have no hope of ever achieving. So, I suppose it's time to learn to be ok with what I am capable of being with who and what I am.

I found this website, and it is a beautiful showcase of the experience of being a Woman. I love the ruminations of so many sisters, in so many walks on Earth, and it helps me frame my desire to cultivate love for myself and others. Truly. And I am reminded of the importance of patience and gentleness with ones self. And how we are all doing the best we can, every second of every day. And, as as Don Miguel Ruiz said, "Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering." See, I am the Queen of Needless Suffering (Ironically, once I painted what I know now is a self portrait of the "Much Pained Princess" at the ripe old age of 22). I assume every unkindness people do is somehow my fault. Probably the jacked up world view I got as a result of growing up in a verbally and physically abusive home. It's hard to change that paradigm. So, never being good enough leads to overachievement, hoping against hope that one day what I say, what I do, and what I dream will be good enough for myself. That maybe one day I will learn to be ok with me.
I care because, truly, if we're lucky we have about 70 good years on this Earth. One of my favorite Rumi quotes is:
"But, listen to me for one moment-quit being sad...hear blessings dropping their blossoms around you. God."

Life is what it's all about. Preoccupation distracts us from being fully present. Preoccupation is a cancer. Self doubt and worry leads to the preoccupation that separates us from God and ourselves. I will do my best to spend my time and energy with people who know my truth enough to love me in spite of my shortcomings, who can forgive me, and who lift me up, and have compassion for those who can't or don't. I'll spend my time and energy with those who I love unconditionally, and who love me unconditionally. Love is all there really is that's worth talking about. 

So, without further adieu, let me showcase a few of our moments of 2011. These moments transform us. They make a life. My life. Their lives.

Addie started the year as a baby, and she ended the year as a little girl. I have the priviledge of raising these children, and that blessing is not lost on me:

Picture of us at her Wiggleworms music class, which we started in January, and which we love doing every Wednesday morning together:

Gillian's first time ice skating with her best bud, Frances, and after which the Big Girls got to have a late date with their mamas, no baby sisters allowed!:

The great blizzard of 2011! Third highest snowfall in a day in Chicago recorded history!!:

Wake up call: Squamous Cell Carcinoma diagnosed and excised:

Spring came, after a long, cold, and snowy winter:

And I took my first not-for-work, just-for-me trip to NYC with one of my closest friends. It was good for the soul and I came home to a perfect birthday celebration with my family:

Then came Easter, and Addie was big enough to understand the Easter egg hunt. They were so excited and so happy to put on their pretty dresses (compliments of Nonni) and search for hidden treasure!

To have a little fun with the Royal Wedding, we had a Princess Party with Francie and Megan. The girls dressed up, we made a brunch fit for a princess, and watched the wedding. Their favorite part was the dress:

Gillian's second ballet recital:

Addie and Hauk continued their love affair into a second year:

 We had a WONDERFUL vacation week with Bill and Suzi at Fernandina Beach/Amelia Island:

We said goodbye to Miriam Davis Colledge, Sean's beautiful Grandmother and Addie's namesake (her middle name is Miriam-see my June entry about this vacation to read about the significance of the flower):

 We loved our visits with the girls' fabulous grandparents throughout the year. We often think that Florida is too far away!:

Gillian's cousin Jim taught her to fish for the first time:

We had such a warm, amazing summer that we spent countless hours outside at the playground and at the beach:

Our good friend Joe took some beautiful photos of me and the girls:

My big girl turned TWO! She didn't know what to think of having the limelight all to herself!:

 Lots of love, of course, was present in 2011:

Papa took Gillian to her first Cubs game!

 Gillian reminded me of our inherent joy; the natural state of being, often:

 This title is "Gillian is full of AWESOME!":

We did a little naked drumming:

 Gillian spent her longest time away from us, ever. She spent 11 days in Florida with her grandparents. When Sean went to pick her up, I had a mama slumber party with 5 of my closest girlfriends. What a wonderful night of recharging the batteries. And Addie slept through the boistrous laughter and chatter like a champ:

While Gillian was gone, I made her bedroom my pallette. It turned out great!:

 Also, while she was gone, Addie got to see what being an only child is like. She loved it!:

 We said goodbye to Angie, who worked for us for a year and a half:

 We enjoyed the city:

 We swam and spent many dusks at the beach, soaking it all in:

...with beautiful friends...

 Addie-so small, but larger than life to me...:

 Gillian got to go to "her favorite place in the WHOLE WORLD" with her closest friends for her birthday (AJ didn't want to leave; he is not dying here ;-)):

 and she had a birthday party with her school friends at Berger Park, on a beautiful fall day:

 I travelled to St. Croix for a work week, and enjoyed the beauty...and missed my family:

 Addie finally has enough hair for pony tails!

 Gillian started Suzuki violin lessons. She had to decorate a box (my goodness, it was flamboyant! (of course)) to learn to hold it before even picking up a real instrument. By the end of 2011 she was successfully plucking and bowing it:

 We did our annual trip to the apple orchard...which also had hay rides, a pumpkin patch, pony rides, and a petting zoo. It was traumatic to rip Addie away from the animals, and she was asleep within 5 minutes of getting in the car to go home:

 First pony ride:

 First petting zoo (she was totally in love!):

 Addie's first time playing in Fall leaves!:

 First pumpkin painting:

 A luxurious hour long pony ride. We'll be back there again!:

 Supergirl and kitty for Halloween:

 Thanksgiving took us to Florida to be with family, and we decided to tack on Gillian's first trip to Disney World. We left Addie with the grandparents, and Gillian had us all to herself for two solid days:

 We spent the rest of our Thanksgiving at this beautiful place, enoying being with our family:

 The girls had a blast with our first snowfall in a very warm winter (so far...jinx!?):

 All in all, a very blessed year...