Don't Let Her Fool You...

neve and morrissey, originally uploaded by DeraWhite.

The White family is holding onto their hats for dear life as we are in the eye of the youngest member's two-year-old hurricane. We saw Hurricane Neve coming from miles away and we know Hurricane Neve will eventually pass, but we couldn't possibly prepare for the havoc she's raised at casablanca in the meantime.

I've said it before: God makes moms forget so that their offspring may have siblings. If I could recall the details of the pain of childbirth from #1, I may have never wanted to have #2. If I could clearly remember Fiona's terrible-twos, I may have prepared more for Neve's terrible-twos by boarding up our house and taking cover in the bathtub. I know that as soon as this ugly phase passes, the sun will come out, the birds will begin chirping, a rainbow will appear, and I'll be ready to do it all again.

(By the way, I had about three or four terrible-two comparisons I thought about using for this post: Godzilla Neve, Hurricane Neve, World War Neve, and the Neve Disorder [she gets her very own chapter in A Brief History of the Evolution of Psychoanalytic Theory.] Hurricane Neve captures her "spirit" best right now.)

Anyhow, I should probably back this mean introduction to my post up with a few examples of her behavior. But honestly, I'm tired. For as exhausting as living with her can be right now, reliving it on my blog is even more exhausting. Besides, there are no veiled cute stories to report under the tantrums and whining and tenaciousness. Every child has their version of the terrible-twos, and Neve's is just not that interesting.

I am more interested in illustrating the gratification that comes in escaping these difficult times. Terry, very aware of how little patience I have at the end of each day, has been kind enough to offer me some time away. I got coffee after dinner with a girlfriend last week. I got a facial from a buddy this week. And, at the top of my happy-list, he's given me the gift of good music for the ipod on bike rides. On cool spring nights. Alone. Is there anything better? I'd say not.

Last night, Terry, the girls, and Banjo walked down to the private school behind our house to watch a girls' lacrosse game, while I took my bike around town. Terry had just recently refreshed the ipod playlist, so I had no idea what the soundtrack to my night would be. I'm really not picky when it comes to music. I have even less discretion when my heart starts beating a bit faster. A few gym faves are New Order, Captain & Tennille, the Kinks, and K.C. & the Sunshine Band (didn't I say I'm not picky?). It was more than gratifying to be coasting down a hill, wind through my hair, and smelling the clean scent from dryer exhausts of houses as I rode past, this playing:

and not embarrassing to boot!

Seriously, there is no recreational drug that can match this, although I do not know this from experience. I swear, mom. But surely, nothing can feel as wonderful as having all your senses awakened in overdrive. Had there been a way to eat a steak while riding the bike, listening to this song, smelling clean laundry, and feeling the cool air against my skin, I would have surely been thrown over the edge of bliss (and off my bike.)

Lately, I feel very aware of what my pleasures in life are. I have to temper the desire to have them at times, because they're not always available for the taking. But when I do get the chance to enjoy such pleasures (some big and some very insignificant), I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for such happiness. Let's face it- there are plenty of other times in life when you just feel numb. For as difficult as Neve's mood swings can be to endure, I appreciate how alive she (and Fiona too) makes me feel, if for no other reason than loving her to bits when she's not acting like a jerk.

Here are a few of the things that get me going these days:

1. Ed Ruscha
2. new Mary Kay moisturizer (don't laugh!)
3. my first real vegetable garden (although not yielding any vegetables yet)
4. seeing my cousin this week and meeting his darling girlfriend
5. picnic lunches on oil cloth tablecloths at the park
6. a wooden swing hanging from the maple tree in the front yard
7. looking forward to going to the beach with my mother-in-law next week
8. babies growing in friends' tummies
9. watching the chickens run from Fiona and Neve
10. Claritin
11. telling Fiona and Neve stories about when they were babies and watching them beam
12. listening to The Church's Milky Way with the girls. Neve thinks it's a song about her favorite drink, while Fiona gets all star-gazey and asks 2000 questions about space.

13. dancing with them to the Lollipop song

14. watching them have a conversation together... a year ago I'd have never imagined what their friendship would have looked like
15. pistachio ice cream on the front porch
16. watching The Wire with Terry after dark
17. using the newly discovered miter saw in our barn for various household projects (all fingers still in tact)
18. a new pot-rack with so much hanging potential
19. spring clothes
20. bike rides

haircut

haircut, originally uploaded by DeraWhite.

That Dag Nabbit Rabbit

Act One (The Yank):

We are here to confirm the old saying, "You can take the dog out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the dog". Literally.

Yesterday, we had our neighbors over for dinner and beer al fresco. It was such a beautiful day, it seemed a waste to sit indoors. The only creature that kept our night from being as relaxed as it should have been, was Banjo-man. He was pacing around us, trying to sit in our laps as we ate, crying to go indoors while we were outdoors, then crying to be outdoors when one of us would go indoors to grab something. He drove us all crazy. Granted, I did make chili dogs. He was not going to stop driving us crazy until he stole one from some poor unsuspecting child who wasn't looking.

"Lesson number one, kids- survival of the fittest!"

Eventually, I was ready to retreat inside, despite the house full of hyper juice-filled children who were jumping off toy boxes. I'd actually prefer that over being outside with a dog whose lead has been tangled around all of our legs. Just as I grabbed him by the collar to escort him in, he sees a rabbit two yards away. This dog weighs 25 lbs and I... am bigger. And yet somehow he caught me off guard enough to pull me about 10 or so feet, which made me lose my balance, fall onto my face, and pulled a few yards closer to a rabbit who is now long gone. It was ugly. And it seemed almost an impossible feat, as I've got 100+ lbs on him. It was so ugly that when I turned around (laughing in the most nervous awkward way), Terry just shook his head instead of helping me pull grass out of my teeth.

Playing a leading role in this National Geographic special, I could see, undoubtedly, that this dog's needs are so ingrained that he would drag his favorite human just to get a piece of bunny tail.

Act Two (The Yank. Again.):

After work this evening, Terry took Banjo for a run on his bike. This is a daily happening for these boys. Banjo gets some much needed leg stretching (on a leash), while Terry gets to feel the wind in his hair as he swerves from one side of the street to the other on his yellow banana seat bike while singing "Skippity Doo Da". (Oh, how I wish he would.) It's a win-win. And while there hadn't been an incident yet, it was only a matter of time before that same rabbit pulled Banjo and Terry off the intended course. I'm just thankful that "off the course" tonight was only into a pile of red clay in a construction zone, rather than face first into a dumpster. He came home covered in red dirt. And mad. It could have been bad, but it was not. And for that, we are grateful.

As we try to force Banjo into "city life" (hardly), he has proven in the past two days that he holds the power to bring us back to earth, via our face.

the selfishly delicious birthday

I really hope Terry had a good birthday. If not, at least I can say I enjoyed his birthday for him. On Sunday, me and the girls spent the day cooking and baking food that would appeal to those elderly 32 year old taste buds. "Low sodium, please?" (said in my old man voice).

I sent my birthday spy (Fiona) in to ask her father which flavorwas his favorite- chocolate or vanilla? Although I already knew the answer, I had my fingers crossed for chocolate. She came back with a whispered, "Daddy said he likes vanilla". And because the thought of spending an hour baking a homemade (boring) vanilla cake seemed so not worth it (I realize how very selfish this sounds), I went ahead and added some almond extract to the batter in place of the vanilla extract. Somehow just that little switcharoo made it worth it. I made a classic chocolate buttercream frosting, and served it with pistachio ice cream (!) and coffee. Happy Birthday, Der- I mean, Terry.

On Monday, my parents offered to take the girls for the night. Terry (and I) scored a date at the Righteous Room and then went to see Control at Cinefest at GSU. It was a wonderful evening. The following day, I slept-in until 10:30 (in honor of Terry's birthday of course), spent the morning getting some stuff done on the laptop at the coffee shop (still in remembrance of Terry's birthday I'm sure), and hit the motherload of all thrift store finds for him (and me, but only because it was his birthday). I returned to a peaceful empty home and ate a slice of celebratory birthday cake, while waiting for the kids to come back from their grandparents' house. If I were smarter, I'd also have given him an herb garden window box and a subscription to Woman's Day for his birthday. Instead, I gave him a book (that was 100% him, 0% me) and the motherload of awesome thrift store shirts. We all made out pretty good on his birthday. Even the girls did, as they walked through the front door with pockets bulging from the loot of whatever candy store my parents just robbed on the way to my house.

I've celebrated 10 birthdays with this dude, and it's not gotten old yet.