Dance

Girl Terror had her Dance Recital today (and last night). Too much fun!!! Okay, so the getting ready, and the backstage room with the crazy moms, and the 3 (THREE!) hour long program were all a bit much for my taste, but for 90 seconds or so it was a blast. Her class dressed as Raggedy Ann dolls, complete with red yarn hair. They danced, and twirled, and generally just oozed cuteness all over the stage. I think the highlight for Girl Terror was the fact that she got to wear make-up.
This is it for dance lessons. She may return to them some other year, but right now she says that next year she wants to sign up for gymnastics. That's fine with me. The rule is "One physical, one musical" for each child 6 years of age and up. I refuse to be a taxi, and I happen to think that unscheduled time is good for kids. Plus, I'm selfish. I don't feel like spending evenings and weekends going to various activities, none of which involve vodka.
Boy Terror sat remarkably still throughout the 3 (THREE!) hour long show today. Whenever he got bored I told him "Look! It's breakdancing!" and that got his attention. His little friend Josh is in breakdancing, therefore it is cool and amazing. Of course, Boy Terror now thinks that breakdancing can sometimes involve wearing a tutu. Hey, it kept him sitting still.
I'm pretty jealous of the talented teens I teach. They dance, they choreograph, and they teach the little ones. It looks so easy when they do it, but just watch. If I try to do it, my elbow will get dislocated, and I'll fall on my ass. Much better to just continue in my roll as an audience member.

The cat whisperer.

Yesterday we took a lovely drive to Skagway, two hours away, to spend a relaxing afternoon together. Before we left, both Terrors were trying to "help" get us on the road, and they wanted jobs to do. I ran out of jobs a bit to soon for Boy Terror's taste, so I started making stuff up. In desperation, I told him to explain to the kitty where we were going for the day so she wouldn't be lonely.
He flopped down on the floor next to the sunbathing cat, and started. "Meow, meow meow meow. Meow..." He looked up. "Mummy, what's the name of the place we are going again?" "Skagway." "Thanks!" and back to the cat...."Meow-meow, meow meow." He stood up. "I think she understood. She'll be lonely, but that's okay." And off he went to communicate with his more human sister.

Deep sleepers

As you may have heard, we are selling our house. This means nobody is allowed to walk on the carpet, eat in the kitchen, or do ANYTHING in the bathroom. Real fun, I tell you. So, last night we found out that there will be two viewings today. Yay!! And of course, we immediately noticed the few microscopic dots on the carpets that still needed steam cleaning. I ran to the store to buy more cleaner for the machine, and Hubby vacuumed the house. When I got back, he pointed out that the worst spot (kitty puke stain, bleech) was in the kid's room. Where they were sleeping. We did what any concerned, loving parent would do....we opened the bedroom door, and roared in with the steam cleaner.
I held open the curtains so we could see the floor, and Hubby spot cleaned. Meanwhile, less than two feet away, both Terrors slept. And slept. They did not even roll over. Nothing. The machine roared, the light poured in, and neither one of them even twitched.
All this time, we've been turning down the volume, making parties tone down, vacuuming during day time only, when it turns out those two wouldn't have ever noticed. I'm thinking it's time to bring back the nightlife!!!

snippets

Even in the midst of the crazy of our lives, my kids can crack me up. They are so cute! And snuggly! And snotty! That last one isn't really a good thing. It's the reason I should be at the store right now, buying more tissue.
-This morning I said to Boy Terror "Are you cute?!" and he leaped up in the air and shouted "OF COURSE!"
-Girl Terror and I were talking about the process of buying a new house. I didn't want to freak her out (very easy to do with this child) but she didn't "get" why we need to sell first, and then buy. I explained that a house can cost $300,000, which is more than I currently have in my pocket. Sweet child of mine then offered me all the money in her piggy bank. I thanked her, but said it wouldn't be right for me to take her money, and besides, she only has $10. She thought it through, and said "I have some change, too, you know. Maybe that would help."
-We went to the library yesterday. Seeing as how I've packed all our books, and we are a house full of readers, things were getting desperate. Both kids picked some books to check out. Currently, they are snuggled on the couch together, reading about frogs vs. tadpoles. Too cute.
-Uh-oh. The kleenex box is empty. Gotta go.

Boy Terror turns five.

I'm running late with this post, sorry!
My baby boy turned 5 two weeks ago. FIVE. I think I have to stop telling people I have a baby boy. He can ride a bike (with training wheels), carry on charming conversations, build castles and roads and all sorts of things, he can remember the words to any song, and he can smile right through to my heart. He is truly adorable.
I don't claim to understand boys, but Boy Terror is slowly teaching me their language. I've learned that diggers can distract him from any backseat arguments with his sister. Hugs, snuggles and kisses are fine so long as I don't point out to him what's happening. Already, at the tender age of five, BT has the male ability to smile, nod, look like he is listening, and then when I pause my lecture, to say "Mummy, did you know what Clayton told me? He said a T-rex could swallow a human WHOLE!" as if that was totally my point.
One day last week, when Boy Terror's daycare was closed, I got to spend the day at home with him. This is pretty rare...I often spend the day with Girl Terror, and quite regularly Hubby and BT spend time alone, but Mummy-Son days are limited. That child talked to me all day. He "helped" me rip the baseboards off all the basement walls. He supervised the carpet removal, and he had plenty of opinions when I was pulling all the underlay out. When I fell, and drove a nail through my finger, he very wisely pointed out that it hurt, and I should be more careful. I forgave him for being a pest, though. At the end of the day, as we surveyed the carpet-less basement, he declared me "Bob the Builder", which is a very high honour.
Last week we went to "practice kindergarten" for an evening. Unlike his sister, he made me swear I would not leave his side. Then he promptly ditched me for the blocks corner. I watched him make his way around the room, checking out his future classmates, his serious little face in it's typical scowl. I cannot believe my baby, my little bundle, is ready to start the school journey. He's my baby! He's my last chance at piggy toes, smooshy cheeks, and that warm body curled into mine. He's a school kid. He's five. I have a son, and he's growing up too fast.