Seven

Lucy turned seven on March 12. I can hardly stand to think about it. In this photo, I can see what she will look like when she is 13. And, lately, I am getting a glimpse of how she will act when she is 13. She questions everything. "There has to be a REASON," insists. When I am not caught in the petty trap of because-I-am-your-mother-and-I-said-so, I have to stand back and admire her mind, her tenacity, her emotional intelligence. She both exhausts and amazes me, and she has since the moment she was born.

Milostone: 1.5, No Lie

Setting aside the issue of whether  to lie about one's own age, when is it okay to lie about your son's age? I only ask because I've found myself doing it these past few months. People ask how old he is and, too often, I glibly say, "One." He's small. He can pass. What's the rush?

And yet, there's no slowing down the tiny bullet train named Milo. The kid is crossing the year-and-a-half mark at a full (if slightly wobbly) gallop. He's added a few key words to his vocabulary ("mine," "Elmo" and "TV " — so proud), and he chatters constantly. He even pauses appropriately in his nonsensical conversation with you as though to say, "I know, right?"

He mimics singing and reading. He dances (sort of). He will take your hand and lead you to something he wants to show you. He will throw his arms around you and squeeze when you ask for a hug.

Sigh. He is one and a half. I have about three months to gracefully stop calling him "baby." After which point, we may just have to be weird.

Uh Huh

I'm never sarcastic. Ever. What I have come to realize, hearing sarcasm from the mouth of my almost seven-year-old, is that it's not warm or loving. While sarcasm can be used in a teasing, occasionally sweet way, it's mostly a default for nasty. Which was recently made very clear to me...

Lu: [SOME NOW FORGOTTEN DRAMATIC, SWEEPING STATEMENT USING WORDS "NEVER" OR "EVER."]

Me: Uh huh.

Lu: Mom, I HATE when you say, "Uh huh" like that. It's so MEAN. It's like you don't like me or you're not listening to me.

Me: [BLINK. BLINK. PAUSE.] It doesn't mean I don't like you, it just means I am trying not to react when you're being melodramatic.

Lu: Well, you are, and it's mean.

Sometimes, even when I am trying to respond to her overblown responses with a flat affect, thereby diffusing her intense emotions, I am snide. And it is mean. Despite the points I give myself for saying "Uh huh" instead of "Are you seriously throwing a fit about where a certain shirt was put away when I do all the laundry, and how about you do you own damn laundry while you're at it?"

I am going to be better about being sarcastic/snide with her (and everyone).

Oh, I heard that "Uh huh" you just uttered. Rude.

Milo Speaks

Good news: Milo may not have to fall back on a career in modeling or morning TV talk show hosting or being governor of Texas. He knows words! And urgently wants to say them! And can occasionally be understood! Recent additions to our short-ish list include: cheese, keys, TV, Elmo (which sounds disturbingly like "mama"), Frog ("Wog" — do we cave and give Frog a nickname?). I got an excited note from his afternoon teachers about how he'd said "turtle" and "verde." They used exclamation points, which made me think they're as worried as I am about his talking.

Well, anyway, he totally talks now. Am thinking of setting up a Twitter account or some other social media presence for him (beyond this blog, of course — he needs real readership).

Something to Sing About

We had Lu's parent-teacher conference with Ms. B. and got some feedback on Lucy that was not entirely glowing. Her behavior is better — less talking and distraction-causing. Her academics are great and...not. She's reading very well (fourth grade level) and doing well in math. Yet her writing is not up to the level of her reading, and she rarely pursues the extra-credit math someone on her level should be doing. Her work is sloppy and rushed. Simply put: she is under-performing. When we asked about whether to nominate Lucy for gifted and talented, we found out that the spring nominations had come and gone, and Ms. B. had decline to nominate her because, while Lucy is very intelligent, she has lacked the focus to demonstrate her abilities. This is mystifying, frustrating and complicated for us. Are we laid back — assuming all this academic stuff will come out in the wash, it's only first grade? Do we go all Tiger Mom — pushing her to achieve her true capacity and more? When we tried to gently but firmly address the issue of focus and effort with Lu, she said, "I'M HORRIBLE. YOU ALL THINK I'M HORRIBLE." And then we all felt horrible.

So when, the next day, her piano teacher called and said she'd nominated Lucy to audition for the Austin Girls Choir, we were all thrilled to have a something positive to focus on. Lucy auditioned on Sunday and got in: talent, achievement, success, hurray! Her second practice is tonight and she loves it already. We still have to figure how to approach her academics, but for now, here's hoping they give choir scholarships.

Milostone: 17 months

Ah, Milo. He of the wrinkled nose and sparkling eyes and pink cheeks and really bad attitude. Milo is a man of extremes: either joyful or awful with little in between. Mostly joyful, thankfully. Like when he is a kissing bandit. He kisses all the ladies at school. On the lips. He looks forward to kissing you.

Or when he's grunting any of the 21 words he knows. I try not to dwell on the fact that when Lu was his exact age, she knew over 100 words. He may be able to get by on his looks or that whole kissing thing.

Remember when I didn't want to have another baby?

Lost: Duck

Duck has been missing since Friday. We're pretty certain he's in this house somewhere (as he is no longer allowed to leave), and besides, nothing is officially lost until it's been gone for a good week (a rule that applies to car keys, cell phones and credit cards). What we're less certain about is whether we're actually looking for him. For one, Lucy has not been sucking her thumb much at all in his absence. For  two, she is missing him, but not desperately. She seems almost nostalgic. Last night, as she whimpered a little, I told her lost Duck stories, like the time I went through the trash at Ski Shores to find him. Or the time we left another, earlier Duck at Guero's, his dishrag-colored self surely tossed in with the rest of the restaurant laundry. We imagined that some busboy would be wiping a table and look down to find Duck smiling up at him: why is there a duck on the end of my dish rag? Or maybe he'd be folded around the silverware, a Duck napkin. We laughed thinking about what Duck might be doing out there on his own.

It really would be so BORING if he were just crammed in the couch cushions or under our bed.

Did You Know...

...that Lu brought peace to the first grade? There were two rival teams that were fighting (Arman's team and Lucy P's team) and Lucy got them to be friends and not fight (and also some of Lucy P's team was disqualified). And maybe someday Lu should win the Nobel Peace prize, like Jimmy Carter and Barack Obama. (Ed note: Above shared anecdote prompted as Lu watched Sunday morning talk shows re: Egypt. I would almost rather tell her where babies come from than try to explain the situation in the Middle East.)

Oh, Hello.

Forgive the embarrassing delay since my last post. I know all seven of you have been checking this blog hourly for news of our recent adventures. Will write in more detail, but recent highlights include:

A trip to Portland for Kate. Rain, productive work stuff, drizzle, fun exploration of a new city, mist, amazing meals, great hosting by a dear friend and his family, more rain. Oh, and the sun came out once and everyone stopped what they were doing to look toward the windows, like an alien ship had landed. I loved Portland, but I may have gotten seasonal affective disorder over a long weekend.

Some new teeth for Milo. Remember my sweet, docile, grinning boy? Good. Keep that nostalgic picture of him when he's biting your face and throwing his cup on the ground in a rage. I really hope it's those molars. Otherwise he's headed for prison.

Haircuts for Milo and Lu. They may have actually received the same hipster bob at Bird's Barbershop. Pretty dang cute.

A trip to NYC for Kate and Jason. Despite the blizzard, I made it up for some business meetings that went very well (thanks in part to us all being in stockinged feet in our client's living room during a snow day?), and Jason was able to join me. We ate and drank our way through 29th Street and below, walked it off in the snow, held hands, marveled at the city and generally remembered what it's like to have a marriage instead of just the small business that is our family. Oh, but then we missed them, so we came home.