fashion to a five year old

getting ready for school was a challenge on day two.  hc is much more concerned about fashion that i've ever been.  she changed her clothes three times. finally, i helped her into a dress that buttons up the back.  dirty trick, i know.  when she tried to change her mind for the forth time, she couldn't.  and she was... not pleased.
we debated and discussed and there were tears. someone *may* have threatened to take all her clothes to goodwill and buy her "plain, boring uniforms" for school.  that someone *may* have been encouraged to leave for work before the kerosene he (or she!) had just thrown on the fire engulfed our entire world.
once we arrived at school, with red puffy eyes no less, all was well in the world again.  apparently, there's nothing that a glimpse of a favorite friend (or 10) won't cure.
even though "no one even commented" on her nail polish, she had a good day.  she reported on our walk home that she "definitely shouldn't have totally freaked out about clothes this morning."

tomorrow she's a real kid

there's no more baby left ( slight exaggeration but...).  she's going to kinder tomorrow!

first day in a new school with new (and a few old!) friends.

new dress (thanks, boppy!), new shoes (thanks, boppy!), trimmed bangs.

fresh crayons, new markers, and scissors with her name on them.  we're ready.

she had a few big decisions to make before the first day of school:

1. hazel OR hazel claire:

the choice was obvious: hazel.  she's wanted to be hazel for a looong time.  and she *is* hazel most of the time.

on meet-the-teacher-day she said "hazel claire is what you say when i'm in trouble, sooo... hazel."  great! done.

then a parent called her hazel claire and another said "hi hc!"  the teacher apologized and asked me to make a note on the class roster so she remembered to call her by her correct name.  i paused and looked at my babygirl.  she shook her head with certainty.  "nope. it's hazel. she's decided." i told the teacher. sigh...

walking out of class i knew that she knew that i wished she was still hazel claire.  she studied me for a second and asked if she should be called hazel claire.  i wasn't sure.

i should have said no but i let it linger long enough to have her reassure me that she can "always shorten to hazel when i feel like it.  it'll be harder to go back to hazel claire cause everyone will already be calling me hazel only.  i'll be hazel claire... for now."

it warmed my heart and yet i knew (know) that she's already "hazel only" and that's okay.

mental note: she's definitely the adult.  i need to grow up and let her do the same.

2.  what to wear, what to wear: pretty easy, too.

boppy gave her a "super cute" new dress for her birthday.  polka dots! you can never go wrong with polka dots.  dropwaist, pleated skirt.  perfecto.  new mary jane toms look great with it. outfit done, moving on!

not so fast, momma.

the real question was: bike shorts under the dress? hmmmm... she considered that self-proposed question for a while.  "no one wants to see pant... underwear (note to self: underwear is a big-kid term) so i think i'll wear shorts.  not bloomers cause they're not underwear but they look like underwear." great! done.

ummmm... not so fast.

"pink or light pink... or navy... or black? ok definitely NOT black.  ok not navy either.  okay... pink or light pink..." it went like this for a while.  finally "pink. ok. done." done!

mental note: thank boppy for everything in her closet expect for the bike shorts, which i bought.  stop buying different colored bike shorts.  less is more when it comes to hc's wardrobe choices.

3. this was an issue *i* considered for a while: offer to paint the fingernails?

obvious answer: yes.

i took out two shades of nail polish and offered to paint her nails.  her choices were: clear-ish white or clear-ish pale pink.  strike that. MY OFFERINGS were: clear-ish white or clear-ish pale pink.

outsmarted by my fashion-forward five year old, she excitedly walked past me in the bathroom, got her step stool, climbed into the bathroom closet and emerged before i could protest with FIVE obnoxious exciting colors: deep purple, hot pink, lavender, soft pink and teal blue.

sigh.

none of them are colors i'd like to apply to my five year old's sweet, tiny hands.  lucky for me, she didn't want one of them! relief!  she wanted all of them.  yep, ALL. arrrg.

we negotiated for a bit and finally agreed on painting each of her toenails a different color and going for something a little more "understated" for her fingernails.  unfortunately for me, fancy nancy has taught her that understated = boring.  minor setback.

i quickly corrected myself and said, "what i meant to say was sophisticated."   she studied me for a second too long and i (like my father before me) interpreted silence as bad.  i started talking and before i could consider the long term effects of my words, filled the air with the following words: "you know, like... (gulp) barbie. she's so sophisticated... in that suit she's wearing? when she's campaigning for president (what?!)..."  her face registered something like acceptance and she nodded and began a monologue on barbie as i painted her toenails.

as her monologue faded, something else popped into her head and she started humming.  then singing.  then belting out a song.  and there we sat on the bathroom floor, me painting her nails and her singing "call me maybe." seriously? she's five.  not thirteen.  sigh.

mental note: if she *were* thirteen it'd be her bff painting her nails on the bathroom floor and not her momma.  so there's that.  be grateful and appreciate these light years as they pass.

when we finished she showed off her nails. finley studied them carefully before declaring, "momma! haydul has pitty nails.  you nails not pitty." he seemed disappointed in me as he marched into the other room to be closer to the "pitty" girl.  with everyone very impressed and everyone ready for tomorrow the kids went to bed without much excitement or chatter.

we've set the alarm for 6:45.  tomorrow will be a big day.  she's gonna remember it.  probably forever.

everything's changed.

Okay... *now* it's been so long that I don't even recognize the blogger window. everything looks different! sigh...

i used to love this space.  i would pop up with something to write about while doing just about anything else. i'd plan it out in my head for a while and bring it to the blog and let it flow -- unedited. it was refreshing... at times even invigorating.

i've lost that feeling though.  i've lost this space.

around the time i stopped blogging i was made aware that my blog was being stalked. so weird.  not by a friend (i stalk your blog!) but by a nemesis of sorts.  by a mental evildoer.  by a person (or persons) i had no interest in sharing my life with.  and it took the wind outta my sails.  i completely lost interest in sharing my thoughts and my life with a blog-stalking mental evildoer.

this isn't to say i was ever in any danger -- or that anyone was *actually* stalking me. it was just that this space didn't feel like mine anymore.  it felt like i had to tiptoe.  not say this or that. not say too much.  not talk about our adventures because a wrath would be coming my way. nothankyou.

anywho, i guess i care less than i did. so i blogged about it.  yeehaw.

looking back

one of my favorite (and most dreaded) pastimes is looking back. some part of me seems to enjoy second-guessing myself, my choices, my words, my deeds.

i'm not sure why i do it, but i do it.

i think i just like to think it through again. revisit. reconsider. even if just for the exercise.

lately i've felt aged. not *really* but enough. it's surprising: life is passing.

i realized the other day that i can pause my self -- my brain -- but life doesn't pause. it doesn't stop. i've put parts of myself on hold to be a mom of a baby, and a mom of a graduated toddler, and to wear a few other temporary hats. but it's just my habits - my thoughts, my actions, my brain - that are on hold. life is passing by ever-more. it's shocking.

i'm never going to be where i was again.

my body has carried two children to term. my face has worn 30-something years smiles and frowns and worries. my hips and knees and ankles have begun to creak. and the weeks speed by.

afternoons used to last for ages. i remember lying on my bed in the afternoons listening to music, writing in my journal, talking on the phone, kissing boys. each day would plod along. ever.so.slowly. and the next day was just the same. tomorrow was never going to come. next week was a lifetime away. things were how they were and how they always would be.

not so anymore. and i think that's what got me feeling so aged. and i think it's what has fueled my recent rendezvous with the past. with what i've done and said and thought. most of it i can hardly remember. some of it i can still feel and taste. bits and pieces give me a moment of pause.

it's all mine but looking back, it's hard to tell.

refocusing on... photography

i've had the privilege over the last few weeks to photograph some new additions to our world and have loved it.

i'm going taking baby steps toward being more purposeful in developing my skillz, as they say. is that non-committal enough for you?

i'll keep ya me posted.

here's the first thing. an entry on a site called iheartfaces.com.

after considering my favorites from my last hc and fin shoot, i'm entering this one:

thoughts?

chico simpático

i couldn't even remember my login... that's how long it's been. and that's how baby my brain is these days.

my two babes are sleeping soundly in their room. fin's new favorite thing is to say da-da-da constantly. he says it loudly. he says it with gravitas. he shrieks it. he mumbles it. and in his sleep, he's whispering it. it's kinda weird.

to hear a baby whispering da-da-da-da in his sleep. i think he's just trying to log as many words as he can. he only gets so many chances during the day to be heard. might as well get a few words in while hc is snoring.

we're in this funny stage with our second baby. i feel like i've never done this before. certainly not just 2.5 years ago.

i can't remember the minutiae of hc's first year. did she eat what she was offered? was she picky? did she have a bottle? when? when did she go to bed? how many naps did she have? how long did they last?

is fin on track? is he as fussy as he seems? could he BE more different than his sister?!

fin (or fin-uh, as he's called these days) isn't much of a sleeper. or napper. or eater. BUT, he's a nurser. he's a stander. he's a strong baby.

he doesn't want to wave. or clap. he WON'T say momma. no matter how many times i try to coax it out of him.

he LOVES moxie. he LOVES hc. he LOVES his dada. he's a momma's boy. he gives hugs and bites. he pulls hair. he scratches. he laughs and laughs.

he makes us happy. he makes us tired.

he tests his sister. and his momma. he makes me work harder to (try to) balance my family than i ever imagined i'd have to.

he wants to walk. he'll consider crawling.

he will.not.sleep.until.he's.good.and.ready.

he's my sweet baby. matt calls him "el FIN!" i'm sure he's right but i'm not sure i'm ready for that. so i'm trying to enjoy every last second.

i'm trying to be present for fin's minutes. for the minutiae. i want to remember it all. cause i know i won't. and i know i'll miss it.

funny thing

im just not blogging like i used to... everyone told me this would happen. ohhhh well.

i need something more concise and in a more accessible format. something like twitter but not broadcast to the greater public. i need to be able to blog from my phone. i need something different but for now...

hc says some funny stuff. today i asked her to wash her hands. and our conversation went something like this:

hc: uummmm... no.

me: h, they're sticky. please wash them.

hc. well, they're fine.

me: no, they're sticky and you need to wash them.

hc: MO-OM. (sigh) actually, ummm.... well, actually, God just made them this way. this is the way He wants them.

me: no.

hc: YES! He DID! ugh! fine.

momma:1

hc:0

finley on the other hand isn't saying or doing much of ANYthing. and he's not even *the* baby anymore with that sweet, tiny darby kate around :)

he's just smiling and cooing and laughing (but only when he's tickled). he is the sweetest thing. he clearly hopes to be a middle child -- he's making me think babies are easy!

i caught hc and fin staring at each other with big, huge smiles on their faces the other day. it was SO CUTE. ridiculously so.

baby hazel

this is about a year ago... amazing how things have changed.

i would like to have it captioned because it's pretty hilarious but pretty hard to understand.

not surprisingly, she talks about bitas :)

my dad

and now for a little tribute to MY dad on father's day.

i did nothing to acknowledge him on father's day... nothing of note anyway :( boo!

i've said it all before but i'll say it again -- just as a reminder: i am amazed by my dad.

he has the ability *and* desire to go above and beyond -- stretching his limits, challenging himself and *living* his life. it's reMARKable (ugh! i can't believe i just wrote that!). my theory (not my own but one i subscribe to) is that everyone is born within a set of parameters. you are going to be smart/tall/fit/etc. between x and y. based on genes, upbringing, opportunity, etc.

right or wrong, the idea just makes sense to me.

in my dad's case, i feel strongly that he pushes the upper limit in each aspect of his life -- and it's something i strive for... when i'm up for it. it's something i admire and take as a source of pride -- genetically speaking ;-)

he's a great role model -- for me, for my husband, for my kiddies. and i consider all of us very fortunate is this regard.

and taking it to the next step, dad: the enthusiasm with which you've embraced hc, and now fin, is overwhelming. and it's another way you go beyond the average man. as a grandfather you are second to none. and for that i am most grateful.

thanks for being you, dad. for truly being the best you. it's admirable and i feel honored to call you my dad. and i feel honored to call you my kids' pop.

new pics of the babes

fin and hc

it's father's day... and all matt gets is...

MY DADDY

My daddy has __BLINKING___ eyes and ___BROWN__ hair.

My daddy likes to __PLAY WITH ME___.

My daddy is funny when he __LAUGHS AT ME__.

I like to __GO TO COFFEE__ with my daddy.

My daddy takes me __SHOPPING AT HEBs__.

I like it when my daddy __GIVES ME HUGS__.

My daddy likes it when I help him _READ_.

When I am nice, my daddy __GIVES ME A LOT OF HUGS__.

When I am naughty, he _GETS ME IN TROUBLE_.

I love my Daddy very much and I know he loves me too!

BYE BYE. NOTHIN' ELSE. NOT MY NAME OR NOTHIN'.

and here's matt doing important dad work -- teaching hc to JUMP!

motherhood x two

8:36pm: i'm rocking a screaming baby, admonishing a tantrum-throwing almost-three-year-old to get back in bed because daddy really *is* coming home sooooon, and watching out the window, phone in hand, for the wide-set headlights of the rav4.

please, please, please, answer your phone! OR call me back! OR come home NOW! you're LATE!

moxie hears a bird sneeze (or something equally ridiculous) outside and starts barking like a rabid dog. the baby, who was beginning to calm himself, starts back up full throttle.

UGH.

i had forgotten this feeling: i am an overwhelmed, less-than-confident, exhausted momma. and i was on the brink of being fully -- truly -- pathetic.

but then hc relented and retreated to her room. fin took a breather, though still eyed me with one half-opened, distrustful tiny eye. moxie finally responded to my angry growl, dropped her head, and went to see if her dinner had magically arrived in its bowl. and though the phone didn't ring and i didn't get the call back i was hoping for, i was able to take a deep breath and step back from the brink of fully -- truly -- pathetic.

some days the joys of motherhood are few and far between but we'll try again tomorrow.

did you mean finley-royal-sutton-smith?

that's what hazel claire (her name seems so easy these days) asked me when i said that "fin" was having a tough day. yes. that's what i meant. finley-royal-sutton-smith. lord have mercy what were we THINKing!?

before fin was born he had a number of names that we had decided on. as in: final decision. done. no more discussions.

they were:

- mercer william (then he'd have the same initials as my dad -- and my dad's middle name. so i thought that was cool.) hc heard about mercer and said, "do you mean, like, mercer my-er?" i said, "yes, h, like mercer mayer." she said, "oh. well, i don't like that name. how 'bout diego?" uhhh... no. however, after we had made our "final" (apparently we don't actually know the definition of the word "final") decision we read about it online and people were making comments that it sounded like a disease (im thinking they were referring to MRSA). somehow that gave us pause and we were back to the drawing board.

- griffin royal (then he could still have the nickname that matt wanted for him "fin" but with a more masculine-sounding given-name. i thought finnegan, phineas, and finley weren't *quite* as masculine as i preferred... and the first two just sounded like they were trying too hard.). we went out to breakfast right around my due date without hc and had a loooong talk about names and made some lists and came up with griffin outta no where. it was amazing! we had decided. it sounded good -- even if totally random... and then, a few days later, matt said, "griff smiff." UGH! no.

- john royal who am i kidding? this was never a finalist. i tried, though. i thought we could definitely have a john in our family. and if john smith was soooo terrible then he could go by "JR." we've got three great JRs in our family -- none that we see everyday but close enough to give him some pride in his name. i *really* thought this was my baby's name. keyword: my. matt would never name a baby a common name. not after being one of three matt smiths in his neighborhood. and one of two on his street! forget it. if i had wanted a baby named john i had picked the wrong baby-daddy and as frustrating as this whole naming process had become i was still pretty sure i hadn't picked the wrong dad.

but you see how it was going and what we were fighting against.

in addition to phineas and finnegan matt liked names like atticus and other three-syllable adventure names.

i liked family names... but apparently we were a little less... awesome in our family boy name department. however, my uncle had suggested paxton a few times and i really liked it. i think it sounds masculine and interesting and it has a great nickname: pax. tough but peace-loving. who doesn't appreciate that? matt said it sounded like pox... as in chicken pox. i think my mom agreed. pax was off the list. boo!

baby's due date came and went and there was still no decision.

i went into labor and there was still no decision.

i GAVE BIRTH (which, if i haven't already told you, was AMAZING) and there was still no name for this little boy.

with his nameless son about 6 hours old matt started to feel the pressure. he had asked a me a few times about the baby's name but i still didn't know and i still wasn't sure and i had just given birth and i wasn't ready to decide. but he had given me 6 hours and enough was enough. what is this baby's name!? he wanted to know!

i don't even remember the conversation or how we arrived at finley.

i do know how we got to royal and sutton because those two names were constantly in the discussions. i wanted (want) this little boy to know where he comes from. i want him to know and identify with his great-grandpa bruce and his pop. i want him to feel -- to know -- that they are a part of him.

i also know that we negotiated at the end. matt picked the first name and i saddled our poor little baby with a "quad name." a unique first name, two middle names and smith.

and so it was: finley royal sutton smith.

it still sounds crazy to me. so crazy, in fact, that my sweet, helpful, understanding, amazing husband came home from a loooong day at work to offer me the option of changing the babe's name. i've talked about it so much he finally relented and offered that if finley royal sutton smith wasn't his name then we'd pick a new name.

we even researched the name-change process online.

i even saved the name-change forms on our desktop.

i even called the baby griffin today (which, btw, elicited an exacerbated "his name is FINLEY!" from hc every time she heard me say it).

but no.

his name is finley.... royalsuttonsmith.

poor little man.

he's gonna hate us one day.

but hopefully he'll love his name.

this is it

the thing fin is going to see one day (somehow) and say, "geez! you didn't even make an entry when i was born?!!??!"

sorry, baby boy!

i'm not taking as many pictures, either. but there are a few: www.smithandsutton.smugmug.com

he is a sweet thing. im so happy to have him in our family.

he's eating well, sleeping as well as could be expected and giving us some fake smiles to tie us over until the real ones come in a few weeks.

we're stoked.

hc is even stoked.

i am more tired than i've ever been but i have a ton of help and can't really complain at all (it's amazing!).

i should be sleeping so i'll think about it and try to blog something interesting sooooon.

like something about his birth. which was AMAZING.

but for now, sleep.