My big girl is five!

And then she was five. We had a wonderful weekend, celebrating my lovely daughter. I worked overnight the night before the big party day so it was stressful for me but we had such a great time. Everything worked out, just as I knew it would.

On Saturday, I came home early to scoop up my girl and get ready for the party. Eliza asked for a repeat of last years very successful kid party at the little gym followed by a surprise party at home. Okay, it wouldn't be much of a surprise for her this year but she still really enjoyed it. Knowing there'd be a party afterwards saved her from having the meltdown she had last year. Or maybe it's just because hey, she's five and could handle it.

So after I picked her up and she spent the day with her father while I made the lasagna for the after party, we all set out for fun at the little gym. Eliza and her friends had a great time and while we were there, my father and his wife decorated my home and heated up our dinner. We came home to two dozen balloons and pretty pink streamers strewn through the apartment. Eliza loved all of it.

But a surprise still waited the following day, her actual birthday. Though one of the girls kind of let the cat out of the bag at the little gym by saying "I'll see you at your house tomorrow," Eliza didn't realize that two other friends would also be coming over for a surprise tea party. It turned out to be such a lovely day that after I served Eliza and her dressed up friends tea, we went to the local park, then stopped by the chocolate shop. It was truly a special day. Here are some photos of my darling girl dancing with her friends at the little gym, then dressed up and with her friends for her tea party. Oh my darling, how wonderful these five years have been!

Oh what fun it is to be Mama to Elena

My parents are divorced but both are retired and some of the patterns that plagued them when they were together continue now that they're apart. My father often takes out his anger on my mother and my mother still relies on him sometimes to fix things. They have to deal with each other because of myself and my brother so my mother is often the victim of my father's bad moods.

However, lately my father has been in a very good mood and the reason why, my darling Elena. At just over 18 months, I'd have to say the Iceman would have to cometh to resist the charms of my little one. From birth, people have asked me, is she a good baby and I've had to answer a humble, very grateful and very emphatic "yes." When other people with a new baby would complain about the strain of a new little one I would nod understandably and say, "yes, so hard."

Like anyone, Elena has her moments but for the most part, this is a great, great, great kid. She loves to sleep, she loves to nap, she can spend a long time entertaining herself and she's happy pretty much anywhere. Sure, she gets fussy when she's not getting her own way, she can really wail when she really wants more milk. But then her thumb finds its way into her mouth and she's quiet, observant, adorable. I've never seen a kid with a better ability to entertain and comfort herself.

Last night, we went to dinner with my father and stepmother to celebrate my birthday. It was later than I like it to be, especially with my kids still on daylight savings time. I had to wait 15 minutes with my father which felt like a disaster waiting to happen. So I waited, and waited for that disaster but it never happened.

Elena happily stood in the doorway, greeting new entrants like a maitre D. She quieted herself with her thumb when I cut short her maitre -D act so people could get by. She sat happily in her high chair and didn't wail when I took away that oh so fun fork, that oh so shiny knife. I'd brought nothing for her to entertain herself with, no toy, no crayons, just a bottle. As long as that bottle was full of milk, and it was, she was happy.

It took a long time for our meals to come but Elena stayed happy. When I took the dipping sauce for her chicken fingers away(food allergy issues), she cried sadly, all for about two minutes. Then she turned to the ketchup and happied herself by dipping her finger in the ketchup and glossing her lips with it. When she lost interest in her meal and they'd just delivered ours, she turned around in her high chair and made goo goo eyes at the other patrons. When her sister, bored by the length of this dinner, chose to unbore herself by lavishing a little too much pinching and squeezing love on Elena, Elena grinned and gnawed on her own thumb. When the night's guitar playing folk singer, started his set, my happy toddler clapped excitedly and swayed back and forth in her high chair.

Finally, it was time to go and Elena came out of her high chair. Free to move around, she chose to stay where she was and slowly draw in the eye of every nearby patron with her smooth dance moves. A round of peekaboo followed, with Elena and patrons never tiring of her covering her face with her hands, then grinning with delight when she revealed herself. She looked so cute dancing with her tiny little body, pink flowered dress and sparkly pink sneakers. There are no words to describe how dear this little one truly is. My father and stepmother laughed at her dance moves, then my father scooped her up and bathed her with kisses. She is that kind of kid, you just can't help but love her with every cell on your body.

She is the quintessential youngest child, a comedian, an entertain, a beacon of light in an otherwise dark night. She is my love, my little darling, my baby, my sweet, my beloved, so beloved Lena Loo.

How did I get this lucky all over again?

Because of all the wonderful things she says

My mother calls Eliza the "little diplomat" because my darling, almost five-year-old is quite good at saying the right thing. For example, one night, my mother offered to watch Elena so I could take Eliza to a special dinner at Ihop. However, the dinner was far from special, Eliza complained of a stomach ache, we had to make repeated trips to the ladies room, she didn't even touch her pancakes. I'd dragged her away from the TV for our special dinner and she was anxious to return to her beloved Nick Jr. That's not the answer she gave me when I asked her why she'd been so anxious to leave Ihop.

"I missed Grandma so much and wanted to be with her," she said, smiling sweetly. It was a nice thing to say but as soon as we returned to my mother's, Eliza planted herself inches from the TV and truthfully didn't notice my mother was in the room.

I'm always posting cute things she says to me on Facebook but Facebook doesn't live forever. I'm not sure this blog will last forever here in cyberspace either but I have a better chance of reading my daughter's charming quotes here than on some fad that may be gone in ten years time.

One night, I looked at Eliza intently and said, "YOU make me happy."

Eliza returned my intent gaze and followed my intonation by replying "YOU make me love you."

The other night, I told Eliza how lovely she looked and she said, "Mama, you're beautiful. You're the most beautiful Mommy. I love you so much." In my sweats covered with Elena's snot, and my flat hair pressed unattractively to my face, I looked far from beautiful but there's my daughter, ever the diplomat.

When I was gone at work for a bit last month, she told my mother she wanted to get me flowers and make me a card. I came home to a lovely bouquet of store bought flowers courtesy of my mother and a card that said "Mama, I love you."

She can say some nasty stuff too. When we were having the horrific comb-outs during lice fest 2010 and I screeched in frustration when the nit I was aiming for disappeared as she turned her head she said something pretty nasty that I don't care to repeat. I walked away, saying "This is untrue and I don't deserve this."

And for a while, I stayed away from her, not to punish her but because I was hurt. She offered to do a time out and I told her she didn't have to, that it was more complicated than that. My feelings were hurt and it would take a while for me to feel better. She apologized profusely but I explained that sorry doesn't magically erase the hurt we feel.

She retreated into her playroom and returned with a hand made card. It had a heart with the word "Mama" written inside. I opened it to see a drawing of her and myself walking hand and hand through a field. Tears quickly streamed from my eyes. It felt like the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me. I hugged her tightly to me and told her I'd forgiven her, that I loved the card and I loved her more than words could ever express.

On that day, I also found myself so proud of her grand gesture. That a child that young could understand she'd done something hurtful and tried to repair it not with blank words but with action. It was truly beautiful.

But the other night, she said a real beaut, something I hope never to forget. As I pulled her blanket up to her chest and bent down for our last hug of the night, I dug my nose into her neck and said "You're my dream."

I used to sing to her as a child, "You're my dream, my dream realized." This phrase that I sometimes say to her is an offshoot of that song that I still feel so often when I look at both my girls.

She looked me in the eye and said, "You're my dream. I dreamed when I was in your tummy. A nice mama like you."

If I could open up a laptop and design my firstborn daughter exactly to my specifications, she would be my Eliza. I remember when I saw her face for the first time I said, "She looks exactly how I pictured her." Everyone about her is exactly what I could want in a daughter.

My dream realized, my girl, my love, my Eliza, Eliza P.

Summer Fun

What better after all this rain, then to look at memories of our happy summer. I love my girls so much! These top two were at a nearby water park and the bottom one was taken at a carnival. That's my brother to my left.

I really love you gal and I need you, my Lena Loo

I sing the above line (to the tune of Buddy Holly's "Peggy Sue") to my darling little Lena Loo all the time. Yes, my beautiful Elena has morphed into Lena Loo, a nickname both Eliza and I love to chant with a good deal of sport-inspired fist pumping. I often describe Lena Loo by saying I called central casting and asked for the perfect baby. She is a perpetual joy and I can't wax poetic on her enough.

Elena was evaluated for development delay in early July and their prognosis was yes, she was about three months behind but they believed she'd catch up. She has spent the two months since their diagnosis proving them right on the money. She took her first steps shortly after that and graduated to the path of the full-time walker by the end of July. She is now exploding with words and phrases, my favorite being "Brush teeth!" which she often says, trailing one of us into the bathroom. She is also a very enthusiastic eater, holding her hand out or straddling the legs of her high chair screeching "Eat!" when she's hungry. She's not so into healthy food which I find a little disappointing, but she goes nuts when you come into the room carrying a box of pizza.

Her body has changed, her legs lengthening and her tummy shrinking just a little. She still has the roundness of a baby and looks about three months younger than her 16 months, but she is beginning to look more and more like a sturdy-legged, happy toddler.

An old friend recently said of Lena, "she seems to have the laughing thing down." Blowing bubbles, funny noises, silly songs, tummy kisses, any of these things can elicit lovely little giggles from my Lena Loo.

And then on top of all this joy, this kid is still a fantastic sleeper. She still naps twice a day and sleeps through the night most nights. Eliza started Kindergarten this week and with it came my plan to get Elena down to one nap per day but now my work schedule might hinder this until the end of September.

In my world, I didn't get that feature I was up for which was a relief. The script supervisor on "White Collar" has had some family/work issues so I've kind of stepped in, kind of. They've offered me the final two episodes of the season but I'm trying to work out a schedule with the current scripty that we share the last three weeks. We seem to have worked out the next two weeks, leaving only the final week to schedule but it this works out, I'll grab enough work days to not enjoy some idle time in October. The long commute and leaving the kids with my mother isn't quite working out so I hope to spend the next few months really zeroing in on another way to earn money. I'm also planning to apply for a graduate program I won't get into--not that it would lead to a job but it would feel like I'm moving in a forward direction.

I've been working a lot lately but next week, I only work two days leaving me some time to enjoy the last of these fine warm days with my two girls and for that I am entirely grateful.

The Summer Fly Bys

Our beautiful summer is flying by way too fast. We've had a wonderful time but I'm sick that only two full weeks are left.

It's been a challenging summer and I haven't written because it's hard to make the time and I seem to have lost most of the readers who followed me here from my old Club Mom blog. But part of the reason for this blog is to remember all the wonderful times I've had with my girls so I'm making the time now.

After a particularly stressful two weeks, I had a lovely date with my Eliza two nights ago. My mom graciously agreed to babysit my little one so I could take Eliza to the boardwalk for rides and fireworks. Our relationship is different now and while I mourn the passing of what we used to be, I am enjoying all the wonderful things she has become. Last summer, when we were on rides together, she was the happiest kid in the world. When I looked at her the other night, I saw some reserve in her face. She is almost four but already she is forming her own mystery. This happens as a child grows and starts to form her identity. Suddenly the parent doesn't know everything about him and her.

We've been battling lice the past two weeks and it's been so stressful. In order to keep her lice free and to prevent it spreading if it's still not gone (I still find a pesky nit or two per day), I had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She looked so beautiful to me, like a ballerina in training. The rides she chose made me nauseous but I grinned at her as we swerved around and she smiled back, then looked away sweetly. The stress of the lice, plus my working a lot past this summer, plus having a younger sister, plus missing her father--she has grown up a lot in the past year. I've leaned on her and expected so much, probably too much from her that she had to. Her face is so different with all her hair pulled back like that. She really looked so much like a little lady.

Shortly before the fireworks, I dragged her into the bathroom. We took stalls next to each other and I heard a woman outside telling her daughter to wait while she used the toilet. The girl came out of the toilet as Eliza and I entered and I thought this woman's method was probably a safer option, to wait while Eliza used the toilet and then to go in myself, having her wait right outside my door.

Feeling a bit disconnected from Eliza, I peeked under the stall to look at her feet. Her tiny, perfect little feet in their blue flip-flops with yellow and white daisies perched several inches from the floor. Somehow those little feet dangling above the floor charmed me, filled me with so much love that I wanted to reach over and grab her ankle as if somehow, with this gesture, I could stop time and keep her my little girl forever. Just from the ease of her feet, I could picture her happy little face. She was having a nice night and after the two weeks of combing out her hair and my descent into shrewville from the strain was washed away.

We were in a gift shop when the fireworks started, waiting in line to pay for four small plastic shells you can use to make necklaces. Eliza started to cry, not wanting to miss the fireworks. I assured her we'd come back for the shells later and she ran out onto the boardwalk, into the crowd. I had to struggle to keep up with her--I am not a runner in flip flops.

"Come on, Mom," she said as she looked back with out stopping. On the beach was a small stage several people sat on to watch the show and Eliza ran towards it. I was about to help her climb up when she hoisted herself up with no assistance in record time. I struggled to keep up. She sat down, I sat beside her and then she jumped onto my lap. But she didn't stay for long, instead standing to dance with the fireworks against the night sky.

I kept the radio down on the car ride home, expecting her to fall asleep. But she didn't, instead she looked at her shells and her mermaid doll on the way home and asked if I could return the mermaid's hair into a bun when we got home because she's broken the elastic.

I might be taking a job that will separate me from my girls for six weeks. I've managed to eke out a living by day playing but I'm dangerously close to losing my health insurance so I need this job and that's that. It will be difficult for my parents to fill in and I'm not sure how well it will work out but if this is what I have to do, then we all have no choice. I've been gone for two weeks--this is only four more weeks than that. But looking at the girls while they ate their grilled cheese sandwiches last night, I wanted to cry, wondering what it will do to them to have me gone for that long. I'll see them on weekends and might be able to see them for an hour or two during the week but still, I'm the mother and the father here, how do I do that to them?

Alone, with children

What can I say, it's tough times. I'm alone with these kids day in and day out and it's tough. Don't get me wrong--my mother is a big help and the woman that lives next door to her is a big help but it takes a village to raise children and two extra people who live a half hour away does not a village make.

I moved here to be closer to my family and to have help and I have it--more than I'd have in New York. My mother, for all her health problems is a big help but she is 72, on a shoe-boxed size host of medication and spends much of her time seated in a reclining blue chair sleeping.

I worked for two weeks in New York and my girls were cared for by my mother and Karinna. So I have help. For two weeks I got to be around other adults, have conversations and dinners with friends and feel empowered by the money that I earned. Then the job ends, I happily commute home, scoop up my two girls and return to my regular life of meal planning, cleaning, bathing, dressing, chauffering, grocery shopping, playdate hosting, the list goes on and on, right?

It's a bit of a blue period right now because I have done something to my ribs and I'm in a fair amount of pain. It seems that carrying the baby around is aggravating the right hand side of my body but there's no one here to help me cart her around. I've also had a sinus infection now for ten days that shows no signs of leaving the building. I was already on antibiotics this year and refuse to go on them again. I can say my sinuses did feel a little bit better yesterday and so far this morning I feel okay but I've had that feeling like it's going away a few days over the course of this ten-day-scourge and it always seems to come roaring back. It's exhausting and debilitating to have a body that produces this much snot.

And still there are diapers to be changed, children that must be lifted in and out of my deep bathtub, laundry that must be put away, chickens that must be cooked. I have taught Eliza how to dial 911 in case something happens to me but I'm not sure she'll really know what to do in that instance.

So for the moment, I feel very less of myself due to sickness and pain and I worry. I worry so much about being a lone, with children.