The polar vortex has nothin' on the tooth fairy

So, remember that last post a couple days ago where Sophie lost her first tooth and was all like, "Oh, Hi blood! Nice to see ya. Let's be friends" and her picture looked like she was being held hostage and trying desperately to send info about her location with her eyes and I predicted that the Tooth Fairy would be visiting us again soon because the ousted tooth's neighbor was leaning at a 45 degree angle and seemed ready to bolt any second?

Well, the whole point of the above rambling paragraph is to preface the use of one of my favorite sentences in the English language: I WAS RIGHT.

It's hard to see the space at the bottom where the two teeth used to be because she was literally clamping her jaw shut with excitement. But trust me...it's there. The space, I mean. Not the teeth. They be gone.

This time there was no muss, no fuss. Sophie asked Chris to pull the tooth out because she thought it was ready to leave. (By this point the tooth was literally lying prone in her mouth, so I think she assessed the situation correctly.) However, just as Chris accepted the challenge, Sophie decided maybe she'd try yanking it out herself. And then..boom. Reach in, pull out, done.

So the tooth fairy came again last night, undeterred by the weather. That's twice now that she's braved the polar vortex, so clearly she's a pretty tough lady. (I think T.P. is a woman, but my daughters think the tooth fairy is a man who looks suspiciously like Dwayne Johnson.) Anyway, polar vortex is, as far as I can tell, just a really cool way of saying that right now it is very, very, very cold. Everywhere. Over 30 states are under some type of danger warning, and the vortex has been messing with the Chicago area pretty impressively. Basically, if you take a foot of snow and throw in record-breaking temps (at our worst, we had a high of -6 degrees - A HIGH - with a -30 wind chill), then you have a polar vortex. Ta-da! School was cancelled for two days, and basically all of Chicagoland shut down Monday. But does the tooth fairy let stupid polar vortexes slow her down? HELL NO. Lady's got a job to do. This, more than anything, is why I'm convinced that Ms. Fairy is a woman.

Here are a couple photos I took of our backyard, right after the snow fell and before true polar vortex hit. The quiet was so deep and profound and peaceful...like the snow had wrapped up the whole world in a thick, comforting, very-very-not-warm blanket.

Mother Nature is so damn cool. I wonder if M-Nat and T-Fairy know each other? I hope so. Cool chicks should totally stick together.

Teeth, blood and fairies...oh my!

Sophie "lost" her first tooth last nigh.

I put lost in quotes because the tooth did not leave of its own volition. It had been loose for awhile, and I think it was ready to come out. But the tooth actually separated from Sophie's mouth only after she tripped and did a face plant into the ground. So the tooth was not really lost; it was ousted.

As is typical in these types of situations, there was blood. If Sophie had injured another body part and even the tiniest drop of blood had been spied, sobbing and hysteria would have insued. But because she was so damn excited to lose her first tooth, the blood became a badge of honor. We rinsed out her mouth with salt water a few times, and that was that. Not a word of complaint.

Tucking her in for bed, I was dismayed to see that she hadn't cleaned up her room. "Sophie, I hope the Tooth Fairy can make it to your bed tonight without tripping. It's dangerous in here."

Sophie replied, "Mommy, the Tooth Fairy flies. You don't have to worry about that. She is very good at her job."

This morning...five dollars! And T.F. even left behind the tooth so it can be placed in Sophie's tooth box, which she has been patiently waiting to use now for over a year.

Sophie was right...that Tooth Fairy is a total professional. And that's a good thing, because the ousted tooth's neighbor is barely hanging on. I think we'll be seeing T.F. again very soon.

The Mathews Family on NYE: A Photo/Video Essay

New Year's Eve 2013 in the Mathews household was all about the board games. And cocktails. And games. And tears. And games. And ridiculous local television coverage that made me embarrassed for Chicago. And GAMES!

New Year's Eve begins with a rousing game of Beat the Parents! Will they beat us? Time will tell. And yes, those are Mommy and Daddy drinks in the picture. We gotta level the playing field somehow, folks.

 

The kids win! BUT...the parents are into their third cocktail each, which means....THE PARENTS WIN TOO!!!!

Next board game...Labyrinth. Who will win, WHO WILL WIN?

And the victor is...Emma! Final verdict for Labyrinth: two thumbs up. In fact, we like it so much, we play it again.

Labyrinth Take 2: Sophie wins! Very proud smile with tears still drying on her face because 30 seconds earlier, she was convinced she had lost and crumpled into a sobbing mass of despair. Ah...the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat, the emotional roller coaster of Olympians and six-year-olds everywhere.

Up next...Make 'N' Break.

Make 'N' Break: A Video Snippet.

We have a winner!!! Anyone notice I'm the only one that hasn't won a game yet? I blame the margaritas. Also...this is not normally how my husband looks. He doesn't usually come across this handsome. :)

All four of us made it til midnight, and all we got was this lousy awesome selfie. :)

Happy 2014 from the Mathews family! May your year be filled with wonder, laughter and love.

Slacker

I was so proud of myself because I got a Christmas blog up. SO PROUD. I worked on it until 2:30am, and when I finished I was like, "Yay Jen, you rock! You did it! Christmas 2013 will actually be semi-documented! You are so on top of things, GOOD FOR YOU!" I practically gave myself a gold star and put myself on the honor roll of life.

And then, on this New Year's Eve day, I decided to go down the old blog memory lane. I checked out how many posts I had written in 2012: 51. Wow...51. Not bad. And in 2013, I did a whopping 12. TWELVE.

I knew I'd been slacking, but good gravy, I had no idea how much.

So I guess that's one of my (thousands of) promises to myself for 2014...to write more and self-censure less. And honestly, why wait til 2014? No time like the present. So let's start rambling, shall we?

I'm excited for tonight. It's just the four of us. I remember pre-kids I'd feel this pressure about NYE, to do something awesome and fun and spectacular. And if I didn't get invited to a lot of parties, I felt like a loser. Now, it feels more like a relief because it's impossible to find a babysitter and it just means I have less people that I have to disappoint by telling them I can't make it. (Okay, honesty check: 90% of the time, that is true.10% of the time, I still feel like a loser.) The last few years, we've tried inviting people to hang out here with us, but no one was willing or available this year. So...tonight, we are four.

We are going to make our own pizzas and cocktails (virgins for the little roommates) and play board games and watch movies and let the kids stay up til midnight if they can...and try to stay up til midnight with them, if we can. (And by "we" I mean Chris. I am up past midnight every single evening of my life, but my dear husband stays up past 10:00pm approximately three times a year. Barely.) It may not be as cool as party hopping across the city, but ringing in the new year surrounded by the three people I adore most in this world ain't a bad way to pass the time. Besides, I've really never been cool anyway, even in my carefree single days. I've always preferred a quiet evening in to a frenetic evening out.

Chris is still sleeping right now, trying to rest away the last remnants of a cold that's had its claws in him for most of December. The girls are eating toast and discussing the merits of peracord bracelets and duct tape purses. (Is it duct tape or duck tape? Because I always thought duct, but they actually print duck on the tape we bought Emma, which has me so confused. As a spelling purist, these are the things that keep me up at night.)

We watched Miracle on 34th Street last night, and Emma remained unconvinced that the dude was the real Santa Claus, even after the movie ended. She said that getting someone a house and a Dad was something that "anyone" could do, and if he wanted to prove he was Santa Claus then he should have made the reindeer fly in court when the lawyer challenged him to, or done something truly magical like bring someone back from the dead. We discussed that just because Santa is magic, that doesn't mean he can do anything. That I have no doubt there have been children all across time who go to bed on Christmas Eve begging Santa to bring back someone they love and miss, but some things are out of Santa's power. Emma said, "I don't think it's out of his power. I just think he knows that it's something he shouldn't do, because if he made that one big change, then other changes would follow, changes that shouldn't happen, and it opens a door that can't be closed." I told her she just might be right about that. (Yes, my nine-year-old still believes in Santa. Fiercely. She believes in everything fiercely. Our own little Emma the Fierce.)

The girls have already moved on from talk of accessories. I just wandered into the family room and found them doing this:

I'm going to go join them in whatever new escapade they have now undoubtedly undertaken. More rambling in 2014! Happy New Year, everyone.

Christmas...and getting old...and Christmas!

We had a wonderful Christmas this year.

(And yes...I turned 40 as well. Thankfully, with the distraction of Christmas on the same day, my birthdays have never been a very big deal to me. So, yes...I am now 40 years old, it didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would, and that's really all I have to say about that.)

We hit the road for Indiana on the 23rd, despite a last-minute alert from my sister that my mom and dad were both pretty sick. My poor mother felt so horrible, she missed celebrating Christmas Eve with her family for the first time in...well...40 years. (Do the math.) We still had a great time, but it wasn't the same without her. By Christmas Day, the healthy were still healthy and the sick were less sick, which was a much-appreciated blessing that didn't last long. (Foreshadowing!) Santa went way overboard with the kids (somebody really has to have a talk with this guy), and then we headed over to my Dad's to...yes...open more gifts. Between my family and Chris's family and Santa and friends, the girls have more new things than they know what to do with. (Literally. We are still trying to figure out where in the hell to put it all.) But as always, the most wonderful part was just being together...not just our nuclear four, but with my parents, sisters, brother-in-law, nieces and nephew. Having us all in one room at the same time is becoming an increasingly rare occurrence, which makes it all the more treasured and special.

And then Christmas night hit, and all (flu-induced) hell broke loose.

I believe by the end of the week, the toll of people struck sick in my family included 16? And it was mostly the stomach flu, a particularly brutal kind. It was like being stuck in a tornado of puke. It hit both parents, my sister, my nephew, my gran, aunts, uncles, cousins. Sophie was the only one of us four to escape completely unscathed. I guess one benefit to spending your days around fellow germ-infested kindergarteners is that your immune system gets really strong really fast. (I mean, seriously...5 and 6 year olds are like walking petri dishes.)

We can never seem to get through the holiday season without some kind of illness, and this year was no exception. But despite or because of Pukefest 2013...and turning 40...this particular Christmas felt extra memorable.

And now...pictures! (My major Christmas gift was a new camera. I'm guessing you can spot below which were taken with my awesome present and which were taken with whatever nearby cell phone we could grab. Can't wait to play more with my new toy!)

All duded up for Christmas Eve! 

First thing Christmas morning, checking out the haul from Santa.

Santa brought the girls Nerf bow and arrow sets and holders for their Rainbow Looms, but I think each girl loved their individual gifts best - a unicorn glow pet for Sophie and a blanket with her beloved dolphins for Emma.

I made these! (And yes, I totally AM patting myself on the back right now, thank you.) It was my gift to our family, and I can't wait to find the perfect place to hang them.

This was my gift from the girls...with quite a bit of help from Daddy, I suspect. Every time I look at it, I tear up.

Me and Grifin - recent high school graduate and nephew extraordinaire!

I love kids' faces when they open a gift that really excites them. Plus, I just love these faces because they belong to my awesome nephew and niece.

And speaking of faces...my sister will kill me for putting this photo up. Which, of course, is exactly why I had to put this photo up.

Christmases and birthdays are great, but I'll never get a gift better than these two.

Thanksgiving, per Emma

Us on a Tuesday

The girls and I are hanging out today.

They let me sleep in until 10:00am, which is practically unprecedented. More accurately, Sophie let Emma and me sleep in. She got up about 7:00, crept into my room, grabbed my ipad, and headed to the family room for a three hour marathon of "My Little Pony." Normally I wouldn't let her watch videos on my ipad for that long, but considering I would probably let both girls bungee jump off the roof in exchange for extra sleep (as long as they promised to be quiet), extended screen time seems pretty benign, don't you think?

After I arise (and Emma soon after me...she is a definite non-morning person just like her mother), we eat breakfast and start whittling away at Sophie's birthday gifts that have yet to be opened. Sophie makes duct tape pencils and Lalaloopsy pop bead necklaces while Emma listens to music on her ipod. Em gets distracted more often than not by Sophie's activities and clearly longs to be part of the fun. She is at war with herself, trapped in that weird land of childlike tweendom, torn between "little kid" and "big kid" endeavors. She wears the struggle like a coat, for all to see, although she herself is unaware. Finally, she abandons the ipod and hunkers down on the floor alongside her sister, joining Sophie in dressing Minnie Mouse in gorgeous snap-on ensembles. The struggle usually ends this way, with Emma jumping into her sister's world, as delighted as Sophie to play with dolls and other "babyish" things. I am very aware that soon--tomorrow, next month, next year?--the struggle will end very differently and/or change altogether. But for today, fun has won. My girls are truly enjoying each other, and I listen to their exquisite giggles as I work at the computer.

I ask the girls to get dressed. Emma brushes her hair and wails "Oh my god, it hurts SO MUCH, I can't take it, I CAN'T TAKE IT!" for 10 minutes while Sophie and I pointedly ignore her. The girls help me dye my hair, which is to say that they laugh and tell me I look like a weird alien as I wait for the dye to set. We eat lunch. They play the "He Is Dead" game, which seems to consist of pointing at imaginary bodies on the ground and chanting, "He is dead! He is dead! He has a bullet in his head!" They morph into different games with odd titles like "It's Dead As A Chicken Bone!" (sense a theme?), "The Hug Game," and "Spit Or Don't Spit? You Decide." (Yes, they title all their pretend games.) The games seem to include a lot of running and pushing and wrestling around, punctuated by frequent declarations of "T," which means time-out. Emma is always the leader, although Sophie is often the mastermind. Every game ends the same way--one girl accidentally gets too rough with the other, harsh words are exchanged, tears are shed, and then play resumes before I even have time to intervene.

We move on from pretend games to doing Barbie hair and listening to Ariana Grande. The girls discuss the merits of high ponytails vs. braids, and Emma tells Sophie she is really good at taking care of her dolls. Sophie beams with pleasure at the rare compliment from her big sister. They argue over which of their favorites on "The Voice" (Jaquie or Caroline) should win. Emma suddently screams, "It's so hard to brush her hair when HER HEAD KEEPS MOVING!" while seemingly oblivious to the fact that Barbie's head keeps moving because she keeps moving. Emma hands me a list of 19 songs she wants me to download for her ipod.

We head out for errands. Marshall's for winter coats - Fail. Corner Bakery for monster cookies - Success. (OF COURSE.) Costco for Thanksgiving supplies. Library for movies to see us through the long weekend. Burlington Coat Factory for winter coats - Success, but only after 90 minutes of wading through six rows of coats sized 2T to 20, in absolutely no order. (Come on Burlington...you're better than that. Have some pride, dude.) Sophie is the holdout. After wading through tons of coats for numerous options that are tried and rejected, one coat is declared the winner. We walk to the checkout area at the other side of the store, stand in line for the next available clerk, and approach the register. As the clerk begins to ring us up, Sophie pulls her classic Actually move, as in, "Actually, I don't like this one after all." And she does this twice. TWICE. We go back, look again, go through the same routine, only for her to change her mind at the register a second time. I come very close to screaming right in her face, "I WILL NOT LET YOUR EVIL DEFEAT ME." (I settle for screaming it in my head instead.) Finally, as they say, the third time is the charm. However, of course, the coat she finally settles on is twice the price of Emma's coat and every other coat we have tried. When I complain about this, she shrugs and says, "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much it would cost. I don't know how much being happy costs, Mommy."

Now we are nestled back at home, and they are again listening to Ariana while I finish this post and start to scramble for dinner. I forgot some of the ingredients I need when we were out shopping earlier, so Chris will run to the store for me after work. I will make tilapia, Emma's favorite...complete with a salami sandwich for Sophie, who will not touch fish even under threat of grievous bodily harm. We will gather together after dinner and watch last night's "The Voice," with one girl snuggled on each side of me. (Poor Daddy. The girls adore him, but I get all the snuggles. Doesn't seem fair, does it?) We will do showers and brush teeth and read books and sing lullabies, and after the girls are all tucked into bed, we will Skype our beloved friends in New York for a long overdue check in. I'll make a list before bed of all the packing/organizing/cleaning/etc. that needs to be done tomorrow before we hit the road for St. Louis. And I will fall to sleep thinking of 1) how much I love my family, 2) how blessed I am that they love me back, and 3) how very, very much I have to do in the morning. In that order...I hope.

Days like today, with all the chaos and simplicity, make me so unbelievably grateful. I seem to have accidentally built myself the perfect imperfect life...or at least, the perfect one for me.

Here's Looking At You, SIX

Our baby turned six years old today.

To celebrate, we threw a crazy, chaotic, and loud (oh so loud) birthday party with 18 kids, 2 babies, and a handful of very brave adults. The house was overcrowded with bodies, voices, sounds...and love. Lots of love for our smart, spunky, inquisitive, sweet, mercurial, kindhearted, funny and fascinating Sophie Patrice.

Cookie Cake in My Little Pony colors.

The birthday girl, soaking up the attention.

So many presents! Very generous friends and family.

Miss Sophie and Miss Julie rock it out.

Our six-year-old!

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And a brief video that illustrates the ruling dichotomy of the day...calm (mostly girls, sitting and chatting) on one side, and chaos (mostly boys, annihilating my amazing sport of a husband) on the other. Totally. Awesome.

First Sentence

Warning: this is a brag post.

Sophie is doing so well in kindergarten. When she started, she wasn't really writing words or reading at all. She knew her letters and numbers, and she could write her first name, but that was about it.

Today, this came home with her school work. It might not look like much, but she wrote this entire sentence with absolutely no help from the teacher. She is BRILLIANT! Our little genius. :)

(She spells phonetically, so the sentence says: "I loved this story because Franklin got a present from his Mom and Dad." She even capitalized the names correctly!)

School Photos

Fourth grade and kindergarten. Wow.

Sophie, meet Kindergarten. Kindergarten, meet Sophie.

I'm baaaack!

I know, I know...I've barely posted in months. For the three people that were adversely affected by this, I'm really sorry. Life has been pretty hectic, and this blog has been one of the sacrifices I've made in the name of time management. (When time-constrained, why are the things we do for ourselves, for our own pleasure and satisfaction, often the first to go? Hmmm. Discuss amongst yourselves and let me know what you discover, please.)

Sophie going to kindergarten finally gave me the impetus I needed to post again. Because, you know, in case that first sentence flew right by you: MY YOUNGEST, MY BABY, IS NOW IN KINDERGARTEN!!!!!

Sophie is so flipping excited about going to the "big kid" school, the same place her big sister attends. The administration put a lot of effort into making sure the students felt comfortable, slowly prepping them for what school will be like before expecting them to jump right into a full day. Sophie had three days of kindergarten "orientation" last week, where she went in from 12:30-3:00pm and, from what I can tell, drew a lot of pictures. Then she received her teacher assignment (Hello, Mrs. Doyle!), and Thursday was her official first day. She was nervous initially because, oddly, very few kids from her preschool are attending Covington, and she didn't see any familiar faces during orientation. But then, some good news: we found out that two friends of hers are in her class...including her beloved Willie. The minute she and Willie spotted each other in line, all was well. They just kept looking at each other and grinning like idiots. They even held hands as they walked inside together. Pretty damn cute.

By all accounts, her first day went well. She seems to really love school. (Sixteen more years of the same, please and thank you.) This morning she popped out of bed and asked, "Is today a school day?" This is a potentially loaded question, so I wasn't sure what reaction I would get when I tentatively answered yes. She promptly started jumping on her bed and scream/singing, "Yay! School day, school day, I get to go to school today!" so I suspect she was okay with it.

She's now on the same schedule as Emma, my newly-minted 4th grader. (Yeah. I know. Time flying and all that. Wow.) Having them at the same location is divine. No more driving Emma one place and Sophie another. Our mornings are much more mellow now that I can just walk them both to school and drop them at the same place. And having them both out of the house is nice, too. (Is it bad to admit that? Well then, I guess I'm bad to the bone.) They've been home with me since summer camp ended Aug. 2nd, and we had a great time together. But my to-do list keeps growling at me like a wild animal, and I'm a little tired of staying up til 1:00am every night trying to jam 10 hours of work into 4 hours of time. So being on a regular schedule again is a very, very good thing. So good, in fact, that I'm gonna go bounce on my own bed and scream "Yay for school!" until I lose my voice. What's good for the goose is good for the gander, right?

And now...pictures!

Don't Blink! You Could Lose Nine Years.

Emma turns nine years old today. NINE YEARS OLD!

Wanna see how quickly nine years can go by?

Happy Birthday, Emma Bloom. We love you.

Oh, and please...STOP GROWING. At least for awhile. Please and thank you.

One Happy Mutha

Mother's Day has become my favorite day of the year. I was born on Christmas (as I think maybe I've mentioned once or twice or many, many times before), so until Mother's Day came along, I didn't know what it was like to have a day totally focused on me and nobody else. And I gotta say...I dig it. A lot.

Today marked my tenth Mother's Day. (Hell YES, the "in utero" one counts!) As usual, my family pulled out all the stops. I was greeted with flowers, handmade gifts, a new apron, a digital picture frame, a gift card to my favorite nail place, and lots and lots and lots and lots of love. My girls were actually waiting right outside my bedroom when I first woke up, pouncing on me the minute I emerged and bursting with excitement to give me their gifts. Nothing in the world can match the feeling of knowing that there are people in my life - people that I MADE - who love me so intensely that they literally cannot wait to make me happy.

I am so grateful to my husband for letting me be a lazy bum all day, and for always making me feel like the most amazing mother on the planet. And to all the moms I know - especially to my mommy Christine and mother-in-law Pat - HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

This is the pic on my apron. So cute!

This is Sophie's rendition of me. I think she made me look really beautiful.

This is from Emma. On the far right (partially hidden under a feather) it says, To be the best is good, but love is better. She told me, "I came up with that all by myself, just from thinking of the kind of mommy you are to me." Ha! I'm with Emma - being the "best" anything, especially the best mom, is impossible anyway; I'd definitely rather have love. I'll never stop being fascinated by the way this kid's mind works.

Quote of the day

Sophie: "I love all the peoples in our family, even if they are naughty or weird-looking, just the way they are!"

Well, Don't Get A Big Head About It

The girls started swim lessons today. They both did really well and had a lot of fun. We were sitting pretty far away, so it was hard to get any good shots. I managed a couple of so-so ones.

Sophie (in two-piece) takes the leap.

Emma walks the plank, readying to jump.

I did snag one great action shot of Emma jumping off the diving board...but unfortunately, my husband decided to step right in front of the ipad at the exact moment I hit click.

You can see Emma just to the right of my husband's enormous beautiful head.