Cute as a bug

Greta said she was thinking about her Lalaloopsy dolls.

Greta said this is her smolder.

Greta said this is something a dancer might do when dancing.

This is a Greta original smile.

This is Greta owning it.

When we signed Greta up for the tap/ ballet combo class, I knew she would probably either really take to it or she would absolutely not. I knew that either way, it would be ok with me. I am trying to let Greta choose her own loves in life, and not instill mine in her.

Well, I think she took to it more than I even imagined. Her recital is in June and her costume, the lady bug, is here waiting. Two weekends ago we got to try it on and go to the studio for pictures. I slicked her bangs back following the instructions that came with her tutu and asked Derek to take some pictures of her while I ran and got myself ready to go. What happened next was a full on photo shoot of picture after picture of this girl working the camera, and making it fall in love with her. This is no joke. I think I might need to get her an agent.

I have also noticed, at dance class, that Greta takes it all very seriously. She does the steps with absolute authority and precision. And, now that there is a cast on her arm, she is absolutely dangerous. Like a loaded windmill. I am also sure I am not going to be able to convey this correctly. Her drive is not one of a little girl pretending to be a ballerina. She is the black swan. Does that make me Black Swan Mom? Yes. Let me tell you that the day before this photo session I waited in line for 4 hours to purchase tickets to the previously mentioned recital. I felt like I was trying to see Justin Bieber. Tickets went on sale at 1:00 pm. The line began forming at the studio at 8 am and I got there at noon. I had no idea it would be like this. I saw a new world of moms in designer sweat pants and blinged flip flops that is not so different than the world of moms schlepping soccer balls and shin guards. This is serious stuff, here. In line, I stood sandwiched between two moms of 13 year old girls that dance competitively in the CPC dance group that is part of the studio. They win competitions and they live the dance. The mothers asked me how old my daughter was. I said, "4". They said, "How many years has she been dancing?" I said, "uhh, 4." She danced out of my womb.

So, now we come to the point where I have to ask myself if this is serious. Is this a world we want to join? I have made some really great friends in the lobby waiting for Greta with Jack. Maybe we can stick together and keep it fun for our kids. Fun is the point. Fun is what it is all about....All the fun we have.

Buck Rogers

Several Sunday mornings ago Derek and I took the kids out into our backyard to play. Gorgeous day, but a bit windy. I spotted something and knew right away that it was either a little bald baby bird or bunny rabbit that had died in the cold mud to the side of our house were we are currently trying to get grass to grow. I made big eyes at Derek and told him he had to get it away before the kids saw it and were sad. I didn't want to see it either. I have a heart that breaks even when I see a squished squirrel on the road. But, I looked closer and it moved. It was still alive! It was a baby squirrel that was barely alive, totally pink and bald and had closed eyes. We got a box, googled for information to keep it alive and did our best. We got it warm and gave it drops of water and later honey. It loved the honey! It was a boy, Jack noticed. Like him.

We read that it would have a better chance of survival if its mother could find it again and would take it back. I made a hot water bottle, put them both on a towel in a box and put it back in the yard and watched. By dinner time he was still there. We decided to take him in and get him to a wildlife rescue center in the morning if he made it through the night. We were falling for him and his sweet little squeaks. Greta and Jack were so gentle with him. Jack was especially in love and couldn't even eat his dinner because he wanted to check on him skirl.

The little skirl made it through the night and we put him in the car, took Greta to school and ran to Target before the center opened. We got to O.W.L. and delivered the little guy. They said he looked really good and had a good chance. They whisked him back to a box with other baby skirls and that was it. No goodbye. No last look and wish for good health. We miss our baby skirl. Jack and I cried in the car. Greta cried at school when we picked her up. I hope our little guy will be flying through the trees soon. I named him Buck Rogers.

We been goin places

Derek said, "They were really quiet down it the playroom and then they came upstairs looking like this." I said, I think this is normal.

ican't type on the ipad

About 3 weeks ago Derek bought me a new ipad and I love it and am using it now instead of my macbook, but I haven't written because I am still getting used to typing on it. I gave up and came back to my keyboard so I can write down what we have been up to...before I forget!

Greta is healing and doing so great with her cast. She writes her name with her left hand now. She eats well and she still dances! We have been in to see our surgeon several more times and go again this Friday to determine when the pin will be removed. She will still have her cast on for her dance recital in June. She will be wonderful! She has taken a strong interest in Black Swan after I showed her a clip of the movie with the Black Swan dancing. We are considering gluing feathers to her cast for her performance.

I have been working! I was hired to assist my dear friend and mentor, Laurel, shooting 3 days for Apple bee's. We had a ball and once again it felt great to do something else that I love besides mothering. Greta and Jack absolutely adore Elif, who watches them.... I would call her a nanny, but that sounds totally pretentious. And, she is too professional to be a babysitter. Maybe I will call her B Mommy. She loves them, too, and that is why going back to work is rewarding to me at all. I came home from day 2 of shooting to find them all in the back yard with construction paper bunny ears on their heads and homemade Easter baskets. But, Greta was pulling up all of my hastas pretending they were radishes. Oh well. Our yard won't look much different. When I enter a gardening center, Derek sweetly asks, "Who wants to die?" The petunias wilt away from me.

This Easter was one of my favorites. I will post more about it, but I want to note that it was a really lovely day that I really enjoyed like you always hope to enjoy a holiday. We had great food. Greta and Jack were totally spoiled and loved every minute and it was easy to breathe and sigh with a smile on my face. I got to see two of my very best friends from college. It makes me smile, still. There are few friends that can go a decade without being in touch and pick up right were things left off. Maybe that is how you know they were ever your friends to begin with. Love them. Love.

love.

Always room to grow

I became stronger these past days. Greta had an accident and I lost my mind with panic and fear. I totally freaked the freak out. Derek was flying back from NYC after being there for 2 nights working with Y & R on Dell. This time, when he left I had more tears than usual. Greta said my heart looked broken. I needed him home more than I ever would have guessed.

Last Monday night, after a special treat, eating Chick fil a for dinner, I took the kids up to bed. I brushed those pretty pearly teeth and got them all snuggly in jammies. I read to them on Greta's shaggy rug. Kissed her goodnight and told her Daddy would come in and kiss her when he got home.

Jack and I went to his room to rock in his chair a bit. And then I heard the loud, loud thud. Silence. And then I heard Greta cry like I have never heard in my life. I laid Jack down in the chair and ran to her. Upon opening her door, I saw her laying on the floor, half on the shaggy rug, half off and her arm was obviously broken. Very broken. Oh dear God, I can not even tell you how it feels to see your baby in such pain and there isn't a damn thing you can do to help..but call for help. I ran for a phone. I ran outside to get a neighbor to watch Jack while I got Greta to the ER. It was so dark and quiet outside. I ran back in to her and dialed 911....And then my own mom. Moms unite in time of crisis.

By Greta's side I tried to calm her and keep her safe. She told me that she tried to fly like her fairy. I think she dropped it and went over the side of the bed to catch her. She said she was sorry. Sweetbaby. I was sorry. Greta asked for Jack who, unbelievably, was still in his room on his chair in silence. Greta called out to him and he came running, "Gigi, you hurt, oh gigi!" He sat by her side and didn't leave or make a peep until we went to the ER .

The medics came and were like angels. They were so good with Greta and made her comfortable. They gave her 2 doses of a sedative before they put her arm in the splint. They calmed me and got me to a place where I knew everything was going to be alright. When Greta was ready, they brought her down and put her in the ambulance. I followed behind with Jack who would still spout out tearful utterances of her name every so often. He was sick with worry, that little guy. I could see Greta's little face in the ambulance. Their lights and sirens weren't on, but mine were!

At the hospital, they did x-rays and made a temporary cast to get through the night and into our appointment in the morning with a specialist. We were ready to be at home in bed now. It was past midnight. Derek landed about this time and sped home to meet us. Greta was finally comfortable and sleeping in our bed with pillows all around her. Jack was a little shaken and had nightmares all night.

The specialist, in the morning, confirmed that Greta would actually need to have surgery to ensure the breaks would heal right. Surgery was scheduled for Thursday morning. A pin would be placed in her arm from her elbow to her wrist to make the bones heal straight and fit in the elbow correctly. While all of this was going on, I was working a food styling job. I took the job a month ago and had hired a nanny to watch the kids when I work so I can take more gigs. It was the most terrible day of my life knowing that my baby was hurt and I was not with her. I could have bailed on the job, but Greta was actually doing well and was not even complaining of pain. Derek was with her and Elif, my helper, was with Jack during the appointment and with Derek and Greta the rest of the day. She made it a special day for Greta and Jack. I made pork ribs and chops and roasts beautiful and replayed the night before over and over in my head.

I got through the job and surgery was the next day. We got up at 5 and went in. The surgery lasted 45 minutes and we were paged to be by Greta's side as she woke. We got off the elevator and met the surgeon and I heard Greta crying. Poor, poor baby. I sang to her and Derek held her and we got her home where Gee was with Jack. Gee had made food for dinner that night...pork roast. Derek went out and bought Greta Strawberry Shortcake, which combined with codeine makes a very happy 4 year old. The cast is hot pink and is not slowing her down. She hurts every once in a while, but is mostly concerned with her ability to dance and hold a crayon. She told the medics the night of the break that she was an artist and needed to hold a crayon...Could she still hold a crayon? They laughed and said yes. She also told them that she was afraid to fly in an airplane and that Jack was afraid to poop in the potty. She won their hearts. She has all of us by ours. Knowing what this feels like...This pain and worry and fear made me realize how strong I can be...or have to be. My mom said I have to show her how. But, she was worried about me crying. My little brave girl saw me grow up a little. I just hope that the next time it won't have to hurt so much.