Tiny Dancer

So our little Miss Allie started dance class a few weeks ago. Ever since I took her to see the Nutcracker, she's been eagerly asking, "When am I going to learn to dance like in the Nutcracker?"

She adored The Nutcracker, sitting quietly and watching closely throughout the entire performance. At times she'd sit on my lap, her mouth just a touch open and her hand fluttering about, in sync with the music.

Up until that point I had been hesitant because it felt weird to have Allie embark on a new venture that didn't include Zach. But I'm sure that's a good thing sometimes; they each need to have things that are all their own.

And I confirmed with Zach. I mean, occasionally you see a boy or two in dance class. I was 90 percent sure what his answer would be, but the fairness police officer in me had to ask anyway.

"Do you want to do ballet with Allie?" I asked in the most neutral tone possible.

Zach gave me the furrowed eyebrows.

"Nooooo," he said with a giggle as his toy pirates continued their sword battle.

Now each week, the excitement builds for Allie as she counts the days to "ballet day."

Here she is doing ... well, I'm not sure exactly what. It is only her third time.

Here she is with her classmates practicing their pointy toes. I'm not a dancer ... I don't know what these positions are called ... can you tell?

Miss limber Allie extending.She may not be all that coordinated, but this girl can s-t-r-e-t-c-h.

Doing her chasse -- tongue and all...

At home she likes to practice her many moves.

She'll twirl and spin and often has to catch her balance to keep from falling down. In her case I think coordination will be a learned trait. She can also be frequently spotted holding onto the kitchen table and throwing her leg up in the air. And lately she'll slip on her ballet slippers and slide across the wood floor into an attempted splits position.

All the while, the pirates continue to fight.

Everyone Loves A Party ... (Especially Zach and Allie)

Over the past few weeks I learned that in a 4-year-old's eyes, being invited to a birthday party trumps just about everything else in life ... except perhaps Christmas and going to Disneyland.

Several weeks back as I picked up Zach and Allie from preschool and fished out the photocopied "Letter F" book with hand-colored fish, frogs and firefighters from their folders, there it was, hidden in the deep fold.

Unmistakable by the smallish, almost square-sized envelope with "Zach and Allie" carefully penned on the outside, inside was a piece of paper that would unleash excitement, and as I soon discovered, a valuable -- although short-lived-- tool in my Mommy arsenal.

Now that Christmas is over, I can't use Santa anymore. If you're a parent, you know what I'm talking about.

"If you want Santa to come, then you need to pick up your toys."

"Santa's watching you, you need to quiet down and go to sleep."

For a 4-year-old, these little threats always work wonders. With Christmas gone, it's back to square one.

But now, with a party invitation in hand -- and a costume party to boot -- I eagerly employed my new-found power.

"If you want to go to the birthday party, then you need to go make your bed."

"OK, Mommy," as they hurry to their rooms.

And so with the invitation also came two weeks of anticipation and questions.

"Mommy, is today the birthday party?"

"Mommy, can I wear the Spiderman costume?"

"Mommy, can we wrap the present yet?"

And when the day came, I've never seen two kids more excited -- costumes and bouncy houses and cookies and cake. Despite the coolish weather and the sniffly noses, they oozed with delight in their Spiderman and ballerina costumes and so excited as together they held the gift to give to their friend.

My two youngest doing what little ones do best -- laughter, excitement, smiles, and sweetness.

"Mommy, this is going to be SO fun," Allie squealed.

"Yes, sweetie, it's ALL so fun."

Happy Valentine's Day!

The Tooth Fairy Revealed

So yesterday Nick pounced up to me and announced he had a loose tooth -- the top one to the left of his front teeth.

"Mom, look how loose it is," he said.

And just as he said it, it gently removed itself from his gums and into the not-quite-as-safe confines of his bare hand.

"Wow ... I didn't even know you had a loose tooth," I told him.

And so throughout the day I had to frequently remind myself that the Tooth Fairy MUST make a visit ... she's so forgetful. Once the missing tooth remained under the pillow and no money was in sight. We had to write that silly Tooth Fairy a note.

So this morning, after the early craziness of feeding the kids breakfast, making lunches, getting Zach and Allie ready for preschool, and not feeling very well, Nicky and I made our way to the bathroom mirror when there was about 5 minutes until time to hop on his scooter and scurry on his way. Just a few minutes to comb his hair.

Standing in front of the mirror, Nick says in a sly, somethings-up tone, "Mommm."

"Yea," I say, looking up in the mirror at his playful blue eyes and adorable freckled face.

"I saw Dad come in my room with a dollar last night," he says, nearly in a fit of laughter.

My mind was racing and I concentrated on not letting my face give me away. My mind kept going back and forth. He is 8, after all. But, I can't just admit it, can I?

"Well maybe she left it in another room and Dad was putting in your bed for you," I said, realizing how lame that sounded.

"Nu-uh ... It's true ... there IS no tooth fairy," he said, all too proud that he had cold, hard proof.

"Wow, look how late it is ... time to go," I tell him, hoping my change of topic isn't as transparent to a child as it is to an adult.

He raced out of the room, turned around and gave me a smile and a shake of the head.

Oh well ... guess it was inevitable. Now I'm just waiting what he'll have to say in a couple months about the Easter Bunny.

Blake Turns 12

Cell phone in hand, Blake gets ready to blow out the candles on his birthday cake.

How in the world do I already have a 12-year-old??

So many changes. Some are subtle, some not so much as he grows into who he's supposed to be. His tenderness grows more sophisticated, his interests are maturing, his tolerance for Mom and Dad's advice is waning, but at the heart of it all, I'm still in awe of this amazing 12-year-old, my son.

It's so cliche, but he's growing up so fast. Too fast.

The bright yellow head band he dutifully wore for soccer games when he was 6 is long gone. But soccer is still there, rooted within his body and soul.

The wedge cut and short spiky hairstyles have grown out, replaced by beautiful long silky locks. I keep wondering when he'll announce that he's ready for a short style again ... when the long hair will be another wonderful memory.

The Harry Potter and Lemony Snicket volumes -- and scores of other favorites -- are still on the bookshelf, having been read and re-read through the years. He still loves to read but these days more time is spent hanging out with friends -- usually Anthony.

The care and compassion for his 4-year-old brother and sister have blossomed. On a recent day he was in tears when we couldn't find Allie, who was hiding under a bed. When Zach cries at night, Blake comes to his side and tries to soothe him.

The relationship with his 8-year-old brother is becoming more complicated (is that just a nice word for they fight more nowadays?) as they both struggle to find their place in life, within the family, with friends, and with each other.

Homework is an inconvenience for him; it's often done at the last minute and he's still not the most organized person, yet he still gets straight A's.

Skateboarding proved to be a phase. Baseball was given up two years ago. Sending and receiving text messages is of utmost importance these days. In fact, I didn't notice it at the time, but as I looked through the pictures I took of Blake and his birthday celebration, there it is, in hand -- his cell phone.

Apparently he had to check his text messages as the rest of us sang Happy Birthday.

"Don't wait to make your son a great man - make him a great boy."
~Author Unknown