A Sweet Moment.

[Notes explaining various things will appear at the end. I believe this is called "footnoting" but it's been a while since I've taken a research class.]

Around six o'clock this morning, Ella stompled* into our bedroom.

Ella: "I just this very second woke up."**

Kat, refering to the massive rat's nest in Ella's hair***: "That's great! You must have slept well--your hair is crazy!"

Ella: "Mama, I think that sometimes, I'm like you. We make the same faces or I act like you. And Ben is like Mommy sometimes."

Kat: "Why do you think that happens?"

Ella: "I think it has something to do with being connected by the cord.  It's like the person who cut the cord has a special connection to you."

Kat and Hannah, eyes meeting: "Awwwwww. You're pretty special, you know that?"

Then we started coming up with other cord-cutters that we felt special connections to, like GP probably cut my cord, and Granddaddy probably cut Kat's cord, etc. It was a sweet little moment in a crazy week.  Of course, by then we were all running late, and we had to throw her out of our bed and start our day.


Notes:

* I know that "stomple" is not a "real" word, but it really is the best word to describe how Ella moves about the house in the morning.  Stompling is sort of a running, thumping shuffle from her bed straight to ours. It's been worse since we moved her bedroom around, because now it's a straight shot to our bed.

** This is probably because yesterday, she woke up at "five zero five" and had to wait to come into our room.

***A massive tangle in the front of Ella's hair is always a good indicator that she humped herself to sleep the night before. Humping has always been a favorite pasttime of Ella's, and we try to be open about it so that she doesn't feel like she has to hide it or be ashamed. However, since she is now five and a "big girl" she is not supposed to hump in front of us/talk about humping anymore. BUT, we can ALWAYS tell.

The Language Barrier. (or, How We've Taught Our Daughter to Swear)

**Disclaimer: there is some bad language in here. Please don't be offended.

Lately, Ben has been full of words. His vocabulary is exploding these days. He has a repetoire of typical words, which include:

Mama
Mommy
Ella (pronounced "Lella")
truck ("ruck")
alpaca
baby
tonight ("oo-nigh")
goodnight ("nigh-nigh")
book
moon
belly
nose ("no-eh")
more ("mo-eh")

various animal names and sounds

and many more that I can't remember right now...

He also will repeat almost anything we say.

Apparently, so will Ella.

The other day, we were driving in the car on the winding, bumpy road that brings us home from New Hampshire.  Whenever I drive on this road, a lone turkey runs in front of my car, and without fail, I always have to slam on my brakes to avoid hitting the beast. (Usually, I'm alone with the kids, so Kat hasn't experienced this before.)

On this day, Kat was driving, and we rounded the corner, and lo and behold, there was a turkey in the road.

Me: "Oh my God, that's the fucking turkey I was telling you about! I swear, the same fucking Goddamn turkey runs in front of my car every time I drive on this road!"
(I'm not sure why I was swearing like a sailor, except that perhaps I was surprised.)

Ella: "Why is there only one?"
Me: "Maybe it's lonely."
Kat: "Maybe someday we'll hit it and it won't be lonely anymore."
Me: "Maybe it will happen around Thanksgiving and we won't have to buy a turkey this year."

(This is a perfect example of why our kids are going to be weird.)

Ella: "Is that why it's a fucking damn turkey?"

Pause.

Kat: "What did you just say?"

Ella: "The fucking turkey. You know, the fucking damn one."

Pause.

Ella, confused: "I didn't say frigging, if that's what you're worried about."

(I should explain that this is not a new conversation. I'd like to put the onus of our daughter's potty-mouth onto my wife, but I'm not sure that's fair. For instance, Kat used to refer to the iPod touch as "the fucking little computer".  This had to stop when Ella started asking, innocently, if she could play with the "fucking computer". She (Ella) will also often refer to her bottom as her "ass" or tell us that she's doing a good job wiping her own ass/keeping her asshole clean. I think some of this comes from the way Kat talks to the cats. However (see above) I also am guilty of making poor vocabulary choices on occasion. Recently, in an effort to curb our language, we have tried to used "other" words in place of swear words, hence the "frigging" comment.)

Me: "What?"

Ella: "You know, you don't want me to say frigging. So I'm saying fucking. Fuck. That's not as bad, right?"

Oh dear. After I stopped laughing (actually crying with laughter...) I tried to explain why using the word "fuck" is not really appropriate. I'm pretty sure the damage is done, however.

At least Ben's words are still pure. For today. :)

Time for a little talk about family.

Family.


Talk about a loaded word. It can be such a simple thing...or not.


My children have two moms. Obviously, that means we had to get some sperm somewhere, so that we could have kids.  Kids were always in the picture for us, we just had to figure out how to have them.


So we looked for donors. We debated asking male friends (too weird) or using sperm banks (too expensive) and finally ended up using a known donor. For those of you are aren't savvy about this sort of thing (and you are lucky...), a "known" donor is someone whose name we know and who can be contacted by our children when and if our children want to contact him. 

Our donor is pretty amazing (duh, obviously, or we wouldn't have chosen him) and made the process quite easy and inexpensive. Over the years, we've occasionally sent photographs, and then we ended up meeting some of the other recipients online. Now we have a group on facebook where we can keep in touch with the other parents, share photographs and stories, and, if we want to, meet up.

To some, this is shocking. It might be more shocking to find out that Ella and Ben have 30+ half-siblings out there...it certainly was to us. But we've gotten used to it, and even embraced it.  Sure, it's strange, and probably not what I would have envisioned originally, but there it is. At least when they are teenagers, we'll have a sounding board for donor-related questions!

Anyway, one of the other recipients posted the following article tonight.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/06/health/06donor.html?hp


It's about a donor who has 150 offspring.

That's not the big deal (well, it is, but not what got me fired up...). The last couple of lines in the article read:

“How do you make connections with so many siblings? What does family mean to these children?”       

First of all, my kids have a family.  It actually is a pretty typical family--two parents, two kids, two pets. Two sets of grandparents. Five cousins on each side. A super-amazing GP. Sometimes, Ella gets stuck on the idea of "birth mom" and plays it up--"I'm sitting next to my birth mom today" or "Mommy and I have Wheeler blood and that's why we're so good at Sorry", but that's about the extent of it.  We love each other a lot and tell each other all the time. Even Ben can point and say "Eye (points to eye) luvv (points to belly/heart) YOU (shouts and points to the person he's loving at that moment)".  We fight and make up and laugh a LOT and work through the tough stuff and get silly at least once a day.

MY family is overflowing with love. My kids know that there are at least a dozen people out there who would do anything for them, who are their FAMILY.

And that has nothing to do with having a donor.

First day of school!

Ready to go!

Well, we survived.

The first day of kindergarten came and went, and I didn't even cry.

After kindergarten orientation last Thursday, I was less than impressed with the school, the teachers, the other parents...and because I would die before admitting that I was sad/scared/normal, I got pissy. "This is dumb," I kept repeating, when the teachers bypassed Ella for the kid behind her, or when we got stuck behind "allergy-parents" for 15 minutes while waiting to hand in our paperwork, and again when there wasn't enough room on the bus for Kat to ride around the block with Ella.

"Can't we school-choice her back to North Brookfield?" I whined, after noticing that perhaps the teachers weren't meeting our eyes as we proudly each held one of Ella's hands, reminding them that yes, they did in fact have a child with TWO moms, and no, it wasn't just a typo.

"Umm, we're in the wrong roles," Kat whispered. "You're supposed to be reassuring me." It's true...I'm usually the stoic one, the harder, sharper one who doesn't get sappy.

The weekend came and went, and last night we picked out clothes and made sure her take-home folder was all set, and this morning, I left for my own first day of school before the kids were even fully dressed. I gave her a couple extra hugs and then headed out the door. They waved and called to me from the bedroom window as I left, and that was that. 

Of course, my first free second I called Kat, and of course, everything was fine. She got on the bus like a pro, and the only person who cried was Ben, as he tried to chase the bus. (Then again, Ben cries when the waitress takes away the dinner plates, so maybe he's just a big cheez-ball. And yes, I meant "cheeZ".) 

When I got home, I went into Ella's room and asked her, "so, how did it go?"
E: (hiding under the covers) "I don't want to talk about it."
H: "Seriously?"
E: (leaping out of bed) "It was GREEEAAAA-TTTT" (think Tony the Tiger)


Apparently, it was great. I have a pre-teen on my hands, one who refuses to give the kind of answers we want--the fly-on-the-wall details were not going to happen. I think she answered every single question we asked with, "it was greeaaaaaaat!" and a big leap across the room, which for Ella, means she loved it, and she wants to go back.
Tomorrow: the first hot-lunch adventure.

Letter to the teacher.

So, Ella's school encourages parents to write a letter to their child's new teacher, describing the child and sharing relevant information, etc.

I have been agonizing over what to write...I don't want to be "that" parent...you know, the one who comes off obnoxious and overbearing.

This is what I WANT to write:

Dear Teacher,

First of all, Ella has two moms. This shouldn't be a big deal, but I'm sure it will bring up issues or questions at some point during the school year. Already, Ella is concerned about what her classmates will think, and we've had several discussions about how to respond to questions and comments. Other than that small detail, we lead a pretty "normal" life--we are both teachers, we live in a house, make chicken for dinner once a week, and take our trash to the dump on Saturdays. Right now Ella considers herself "lucky" to have two moms, and we hope that the transition into public school doesn't cause her to feel otherwise.

Ella is a funny, precocious little girl who "gets" sarcasm and loves to tell jokes. She has a great sense of humor but doesn't use it to make fun of anyone or to be mean.  She often is the champion to the underdogs and has a strong sense of what is "right" and "wrong".  She can be intensely shy when she is in new situations, but once she gets comfortable, she can be hard to quiet down.  She is sensitive and quick to cry or get angry when something is new or intense, and usually will come around on her own if given some space and time. Pushing her to make a decision usually prolongs the process.

Ella has a quick mind, especially when it comes to math.  She can do double-digit addition in her head and seems to have a real knack for numbers.  She tends to resist reading but within the past few weeks has really started to recognize words and text.  She's good at making connections to text and inferring what will happen when reading a story, and loves listening to chapter books, but seems to consider picture books "babyish". (This is probably our fault, since we read all the Junie B. books to her when she was four...) When it comes to "seatwork" Ella tends to rush through things and can be impatient.

Ella's body is not as quick as her mind...she can only be described as "clumsy" or perhaps "spatially inept".  Her gross motor skills are a bit weak, and she's more likely than not to walk into desks, walls, chairs, etc.  Lately, she's been into dancing around the house/rolling around on the floor doing "ath-aerobics" (a combination of athletics and aerobics--her word, not ours), which can be dangerous for all involved and requires wide-open spaces. She has trouble staying in her seat and Miss Nancy (her pre-school teacher) was working with Ella to sit straight in her chair with feet on the floor during seatwork and lunchtime. Ella has a huge and varied vocabulary, but seems to have some speech issues that we would love to get some input from you on.  Both our pediatrician and Ella's pre-school teachers have voiced concerns about her speech, but because we moved to Barre in March, it was recommended that we wait until the start of the new school year to pursue the issue.

Socially, Ella is very aware of people's reactions to her, especially other children. Although she wants to hang out with the "cool" kids, she won't do so at the expense of others.  We've had a lot of conversations about bullying and how to deal with friends when people are being mean. She doesn't tend to follow the crowd but would rather play alone if she doesn't want to do what the other kids are doing.  She is cautious when it comes to trying new things, but works hard once she's committed to something. (Right now, she is desperate to get across the monkey bars, but also incredibly nervous.)  She will talk your ear off (or anyone around who might be listening) once she feels comfortable!

Good luck! She's unique...she's going to enchant you and baffle you and drive you nuts, probably several times in the same day.  Please call us or email us with any questions or concerns or funny stories from your days with her...

Take care,

Hannah and Katherine Thompson

Hmmm....
Maybe I've done it?

Thoughts? Am I too over-the-top??

Down. In. The. Dumps.

Lately, I've been emotionally trigger-happy...but not in a happy sort of way.  All kinds of things are making me sad, or angry, or anxious...

So I thought if I made a list of everything I can think of that SUCKS, that it might help. [Be forewarned, some of these things are really sucky and me writing them doesn't necessarily mean they are true, just that they suck.]

Here goes, in no particular order:

• having to close all the windows on a very humid, muggy day
• not being invited to weddings
• feeling like an outsider in my own community
• your mom posting on facebook that she is a loser
• your daughter cutting off all of her hair after 18 months of growing it out after the last haircut
• heroin addicts
• going back to school before everyone else in your house
• overdue credit card bills
• overdue babies
• hurricanes that keep you from meeting babies
• dead wii remote batteries
• redbox fees
• slow internet
• the song "If I die young" by The Band Perry
• ebay addictions
• seven sucky letters in "words with friends"
• seven great letters and no place to put them in "words with friends"
• being rational enough not to cut because it's too hot for long sleeves
• being irrational enough to consider cutting after 3 years
• feeling like I'm too old for the VMAs
• not being able to see your kid off on her first day of kindergarten
• your kid telling you "I'm going to kill you someday"
• not being able to get pregnant
• suffering from "battered women's syndrome"
• eating an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream
• dehydration
• divorce via text message
• worrying about losing family members to death
• favorite pants that just aren't going to fit, no matter how hard you try
• wrinkles (in clothes AND skin)
• breast cancer
• all cancer
• holes in brand new socks
• sad, stupid movies that make you cry
• new underwear that doesn't fit (it's not like you can try it on in the store!)
• Voldemort
• friends who slack on their on-line scrabble games
• hemorrhoids
• being referred to as a "chick" by your brother-in-law
• being ignored by your kid's kindergarten teacher
• severe nut allergies

Okay, this is horrible....just writing it has made think of a few good things that I'll leave you with.

• Lady Gaga
• new babies
• big-boy haircuts
• the excitement of the first day of school
• sleeping in until 9
• Ben knowing the words to "Tonight, Tonight" by Hot Chelle Rae
• seeing Mom in six days
• my brother-in-law apologizing for calling me a "chick" (after I retaliated by calling him a "breeder" which might be worse, actually...
• Nutella
• Scary Mommy, DYAC, and FML posts, which make my life seem almost normal...
• early bedtimes
• new clothes
• fountain drinks
• blogs!

Things that make you go ewwwww.

My daughter has her first loose tooth.

GROSS.

It's funny, actually. A friend posted on facebook the other day that her daughter had lost her second tooth, and I stopped and thought, "wait, she's younger than Ella, and Ella hasn't lost any teeth yet!"

This is how my life works...a couple days later...BAM! Ella has an actual loose tooth. (It's the right tooth in the bottom middle, just in case you wonder about those things.) I say "actual" because last year, when a few of her pre-school friends were losing teeth, we had a lot of "pretend" loose teeth.

But no, I felt it. It's DEFINITELY loose.

It started in the car on the way home from Pop's house.
Ella: "Mom, my tooth hurts. I think it might be loose."
Kat: "Sure, honey, we'll check it out when we get home." (eye roll)

Then, during her shower:
Kat: "Let's check out that tooth. OH MY GOD...it really is loose!"
Ella: "I know, I'm so excited!"
Kat: "Mommy is going to be sooo grossed out."
Ella: "Let's go show her!"
(Me, downstairs: "NO THANKS!!!")

Yep.

I went to college to be an elementary school teacher. I changed my major to secondary education (specifically middle school) for two reasons:

NO snow pants and NO LOOSE TEETH.

I can deal with poop and vomit.  Cat vomit on the floor? No problem, hand over the paper towels and I'll scoop it up.  Overflowing toilet? Give me the plunger. Baby mouse limping around the kitchen after the cats have played with it? I'd love to help you out and grab it by the tail and toss it out in the bushes.The cat sitter flushed all the non-flushable litter and blocked up the pot? Sure, I'll sit on the floor and scoop out nasty 2-week-old clay from the icy water. Kid poops in the tub? No biggie, I'll just pluck it out with some Lysol wipes.

(Don't worry, I always wash my hands afterwards....)

Kid has a loose tooth? My gag reflex kicks in immediately (it's even happening as I type, much to my dismay) and I'm all tucked up shoulders and eyes squeezed shut, one dry-heave away from losing my lunch.

When I was an aquatics director and spent most of my day teaching swim lessons, my mid-age kids loved to show me their loose teeth, and I'd gag and squeal and hide my face. Then the 45 minutes would pass and they'd go on their way, to lose said teeth at school or at dinner or swallow them in their sleep.

Last year, I had a couple 7th graders lose teeth in my class, and I'd gag and squeal and rush them off to the nurse's office and that would be that.

But my own daughter....I'm going to have to watch that tooth get looser and looser, until it's hanging by a thread at a funny angle, and she pushes it around  with her tongue, and GOD FORBID if the frigging thing decides to come out when Kat's not home!!! This is just the first one....how am I going to manage this????

Like I said, GROSS.