Let's talk about quirks

We all have them. Things we have to do to feel right. Idiosyncrisies. Weird-nesses. Quirks.



Liv has a new one. It seems to only surface at naptime or bedtime. Not sure exactly how it started or why it provides her a feeling of "all is right with the worldness," but it does. And....without it, sleep doesn't come.


Here it is.

Yep, as of late, every time she gets ready to lay down and sleep, she must have one bare foot.

Only one. Not two. Just one single solitary naked set of toes.


And sometimes, as shown in the pic, sometimes she just plain likes to leave it that way after she wakes up.


And if you're wondering what she's holding in the second picture, you may recall an earlier blog post on her fettish with hand sanitizer. Case in point, she still has it.

Could be worse. Though oddly pungent, at least she's de-germified.

You make bathtime....

...lots of fun? Isn't that how the song by Ernie on Sesame Street goes? Of course, he was speaking to his beloved rubber ducky. Apparently this song does not cross over when it comes to sisterhood.

As I was cleaning up in the kitchen last night, Bill had undertaken the sometimes ginormous task of coercing Liv into the bathtub. Camille....no big deal. She would eat and sleep in the bathtub if we let her. She backfloats, frontfloats, blows bubbles, soaks and sings until she is sufficiently pruned up. Needless to say, sometimes her need to stretch out and have personal space does not jive with Liv's need to be Liv. So it went tonight.

All I heard from the kitchen was a bit of sloshing and singing followed by obscene screeching and squawking. Bill, having heard the conversation in passing, came to the kitchen to recount.

Camille: "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way......"

Liv: "Camille, you DO NOT sing Jingle Bells!"

Camille: "YES I CAN!....oh what fun it is to ride...."

Liv: "Mommy said NO NO NO NO NO, Camille!" (Honest Abe here).

Camille" "NO SHE DID NOT!"

Liv: "Aaaahhhheeeekkkkkkkk!

Camille; "Aaaahhheeeeekkkkkk!

Needless to say, we had a good laugh in the kitchen and it was one of those moments where we quietly celebrated and had soaring hearts.

In a very warped way, we've waited for these moments....so we celebrate them....before we put on our parenting face and flee to the bathroom to mediate.

Why? Because it is a tell-tale sign that our life is more typical than we sometimes give it credit for.

Just a Taste

Stand back. I know I already blogged today, but I couldn't resist one more entry.

Tonight, we buckled. Collapsed. Went soft. We let the girls have a taste of Christmas Eve a day early.

It was actually a move in the name of self-preservation. As we were packing up and looking around at all of the equipment and baggage we had strewn about ready to load for our trip to Grandma's tomorrow morning, we saw the need to regroup. Refine. Scale down.

So, in a win-win situation, we spotted the Build-a-Bear workshop boxes under the tree from Uncle Tim and Aunt Vickie that had been shipped from Lebanon, PA and asked the girls if they wanted to open a gift a night early.

To which Camille answered, "No, I want to do work on the computer!" Whose child is this, I ask you?

After a few minutes, she thought better and the girls opened up boxes. And of course, the gifts were one-of-a-kind.

The background: Uncle Tim came to visit Nebraska around Thanksgiving and he got a big dose of Camille and Liv. Camille had blossomed as a social butterfly since she last saw him in July, and of course, Liv would not be outdone, so in short, they talked his ear off. Constantly. So much so that he gave them two new nicknames: Windy and Breezy respectively.

So tonight, the girls opened up two new puppies from Build-a-Bear. Camille's dog's birth certificate showed the given name of Windy, and Liv's Breezy. Windy came complete with glasses, Breezy complete with hair pretties, both with blinking Christmas collars.

And I bet you anything Uncle Tim went to Build-a-Bear to help make them.

Love it.

Round Yon Virgin

You could say that the girls are in the holiday spirit.

The house has been ringing with the sound of Christmas music, sung by minature voices.

Camille had been rehearsing for her K4J holiday programs for a few weeks. Alas, last Thursday, the concert got canceled due to our Omaha ice storm that evening.

Didn't stop her. Nope. After supper, she came walking out of her bedroom with her pink guitar in tow, plopped it on the floor, and began the hour-long serenade comprised of "Jingle Bells," "Up on the Housetop," "Frosty the Snowman," "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," and "The ABC song," for the sake of being complete.

But it gets better. In all actuality, Camille's favorite Christmas Carol is "Silent Night." We seemingly only have one Christmas CD in the van, as the rest are packed in a box somewhere in the abyss of our apartment garage until we get moved. Every time we get in the van, she asks in a very sweet voice, "Mommy, will you please turn Silent Night on for me?"

Of course, we oblige.

So on Saturday, Bill and the girls and I are coming out of the mall having done some final Christmas shopping and Camille got as excited as could be.

"Mommy, Daddy!"

"Yes, Camille?"

"Round Yon Virgin is in the van!"

Everyone Needs a Betty

It's just that simple. Everyone needs a Betty in their life.

Betty is a family friend whom we met through my very own Uncle Jack. She lives in Colorado, so we don't see her often, but regardless, she's just got that special place in our hearts. We, without her permission now that I think of it, adopted her as our Aunt and a Great Aunt for the girls some time ago now. Betty is one of those people who is sincerely genuine. So giving of love. A person who never hesitates to say "I love you." If you've known Betty for a year, you feel like you've known her for a lifetime. She's one of those people who sees the man ringing the bell for the Salvation Army in the bitter cold--too poor to buy a hat and gloves--and promptly enters the store, buys him a set, and brings them back out, making his day and giving him hope. At least that's what a little bird told me. I didn't hear it from Betty, of course.

I write about Betty as my cell phone rang just after 6ish tonight. I answered it and was pleasantly surpised to hear Betty's voice. She only called as she needed our new address, but of course she didn't hesitate to tell me that she loves us and misses us--in a way that I know she means it.

She can't have known how very much I needed that call this week. It's just been one of those weeks. Chaotic. Emotional. You know, the kind that leaves you feeling world-weary.

And then Betty calls. One little call, but a power-packed one. She has that knack for timing.

That very simple, sincere call grounded me again, reminded me of what life is all about. That one simple call somehow made me know that everything will be okay.

Like I said, everyone needs a Betty.