They're Supposed to be KIDS Clothes!

After the great kids’ clothing spring fling the other day, I’ve inventoried what the girls need for the summer. Baboo is set for almost forever. Ha. Mouse needs just about everything, because she’s GROWN. This will be the first summer that she hasn’t been able to wear everything she owns 2 summers in a row.

So I’ve been doing some shopping. I’ve managed to find a few cute shirts and dresses and even a new rain coat (on sale!). This is the 2nd rain coat she’s ever owned. Her first one she got when was 2. Yes, 2. She’s going to be 5 and can still wear an, albeit somewhat larger, 18m rain coat.

But not anymore!

However…. Shorts. First, what is UP with the nasty, ugly prints this year?? Seriously tacky, for my tastes, anyway. And secondly, when I was at Target yesterday, thinking I would totally score on shorts, because, I mean… its’ TARGET. I was a bit shocked to see that they were SHORT shorts. Indecently short shorts. And ALL of them were like that. I have a huge problem when picturing my CHILDREN running around with their butt cheeks hanging out the bottom of their shorts.

I think I muttered something within hearing distance of an employee, saying “this is indecent for little girls”.

And I looked around and realized that there is very little I actually a) like or b) think is appropriate. And it wasn’t just Target with that kind of thing. After hunting around, I found that almost all the stores seem to be carrying more and more clothing for younger and younger girls that is just too mature.

And then I felt like a prude. But an adamant old prude. Mouse is going to be 5. To me, that’s still a little kid. Yes, she’s smart and capable and even a bit too sassy for my patience some times, but she’s young. And innocent. I would like to keep her that way for a little while. Let her be a little kid for a while longer.

So, I say NO to the short shorts. No to the too revealing bathing suits (good grief! Strings sides on a toddler bikini?? Give me a break!). No to the deep V neck, halter neck tops. No to anything that, to my eyes, is just inappropriate.

Meet Mabel

The duck saga continues.

Friday afternoon we were outside enjoying the 70+ degree sunny weather when Mama duck walked right up to us, and helped herself to half of Baboo’s popsicle. This naturally, resulted in a huge, indignant outburst. Not unexpectedly, of course… we are talking about POPSICLES people!

After, staring in amazement at a duck eating a popsicle, I got Baboo a new one and brought out a couple of crusts of bread. The duck, now known as Mabel, ate right out of our hands. And then proceeded to hop on the deck and poop on it. Classy.

Her mate, known as Earl, watched noisily from the neighbor’s roof top. Hilarious.

Yesterday, the girls and I were puttering around in the house, getting ready to go and play outside, when we saw a brown, ducky head poke over the base of the screen door and look into the house. Mabel came to call, looking for a handout, apparently. So, we grabbed another crust of bread and fed her on the deck. She hung around for a while, took a little rest under the slide, until the neighbor kids caught site of her, and then she vanished.

But, she came back last evening as I was cleaning up the deck. She followed me around, quacking softly. I told her to help herself to the slugs in the yard.

Hubster’s not as thrilled so thrilled with this. But me, well, I don’t really mind having a duck following me around the yard. Must be the country girl coming out.

Spring Fling

Wow, I just looked at the date and I can’t believe that April is almost over. Didn’t this month just start? It’s been a very busy month, with the last 10 days of this month being just as busy. And well, most of May is already spoken for also.

They always say that time passes faster as we age and well, I can certainly attest to that being true. Or so it seems. I must be 100 because time is flying by so fast.

Anyway, yesterday was our typical fallout day after guests leave. A day of short tempers, tantrums and just general laziness. Hubster’s aunt (and a middle name sake for Baboo) and her husband came to visit us for a few days this week and they left yesterday. We had a wonderful, fun visit, but Baboo was sick and we had a few rough nights so we were tired. Hubster is on a course all weekend so it’s just the girls and I. Yesterday, after sending off Hubster’s aunt the girls and I took our time getting the day started. We stayed in our jammies for a long time.

I was trying to get breakfast for the girls and realized the fridge was a mess, so I cleaned it out. And then I moved onto the freezer, and then the pantry…. And then I got the cleaning bug in me. When we went upstairs to get dressed, I decided it was time to check the girls clothes for summer and move some things around. And so began the “Spring Fling”, that time of the year when I start “flinging” things out. Mouse loves to try on clothes, so she was more than happy to try on anything I threw at her from the closet. She’s FINALLY starting to grow, so a few things I’d held over are not going to fit, but that’s ok. Baboo on the other hand isn’t so thrilled with trying things on and her not feeling well on top of everything else, made for a bit of a frustrating time of sorting. I had to hold a few things up as she ran by and kind of “eyeball” if it would fit or not. I definitely think she’s either bigger or built differently because Mouse stayed in 18 month clothes until she was, well, almost 3, but Baboo is solidly in a 2T. I was holding onto a few cute things, but they definitely will not fit Baboo this summer. Sigh.

However, I have a huge pile of clothes and some baby gear in my hallway that’s on its’ way out the door.

Then, I hit my very pathetic kitchen linens. I got rid of some placemats and table clothes that I haven’t use in years because well, I don’t like them. So I’ve freed up most of a cabinet.
It was a big thing for me to admit and actually say “I don’t LIKE this”. It made me realize something about myself this weekend. I’m a bit jealous of people who KNOW what they like; especially when it comes to house décor. I’m referring to people who have a defined “style” – country, modern, Tuscan, traditional, Victorian, etc. It’s gotta be easier! Me…. I don’t discount anything. I feel like I have to consider ALL possibilities and there’s very little I definitely “don’t” like. There are also very few colours that I don’t like. I know that not all colours work in my house, but it always seems like a long process to FIND the right combination. In almost any “style” I like elements of them. I’m never really sure what “feel” I want things to have, especially in my house.

I said the other day that I feel like I need to have a city house and a country house. A city house that I can have kind of contemporary with an urban feel – clean lines, stainless steel, bright splashes of colour, almost like a loft kind of thing. And then a country house, with some land around me that I can have as a soft, gardeny, English cottage kind of feel. Old, worn, traditional shaped furniture, old antiques, crockery dishes, soft colours.

Hubster’s aunt said she really liked the way I’ve “decorated”. Hmmm… I haven’t done much “decorating”. Our bedroom is really the only room that is “done”, and it just sort of “happened”. I had some framed prints that didn’t work in family room, which is where they were in our old house, and so they ended up in our bedroom… where the colours really worked. After some searching around with my Mum, we found bedding, towels etc and it all just came together. It’s kind of contemporary with a bit of a traditional feel as there are cornice boards over the windows and we have a bit of wooden traditional style furniture. We worked as much with what we already had, because well, we have to; we’re on a limited budget. I really like the way it turned out, but I’m not sure what “feel” I want for the rest of the house.

The girls rooms were also pretty easy. Girly, pink/green/purple – flowers and butterflies. They’re little. I didn’t really go all out. It’s cute and pretty and fun.

The main floor colours are basically what were here. I feel like we’re kind of living with them. I like them – I think. They’re pretty neutral – but so is our furniture. A bit bland, really. I’m trying to find the colour and feel I want for down here, but it’s hard; especially when you have very little money to spend on it.

Our furniture is very, very small scale for this house. We will eventually replace it, when we figure out what “style” we want. And colour. There are a few upgrades that I want to make in the kitchen, which has a bit of a Tuscan feel with the yellow walls and dark bronze light fixtures. And while I don’t think I hate that, I don’t’ think I really “like” it either. This house doesn’t really give the feel of a “country cottage”, so I guess it’s more traditional/contemporary. Does that even make sense?

Actually, just sitting here, I think I just saw in my head how I’d do the kitchen, eating area. Now if only I can convince my friend to pass on her dining room light fixture to me and oh, and find a bit of money to replace my countertops. Hmmm…. It might take me a while to get it all together, but I think it’s going to work. Eventually.

So what I also think I’ve just realized is that it’s ok to say I don’t like something and its’ ok for me to want to change what’s “here” because it’s not my “style”. Usually I feel like I can’t really replace things unless there is something ‘wrong’ with it; as in, physically broken or needing repair. So, maybe I’m getting a bit closer to knowing what I like.

And now I’m rambling, so I’ll shut up.

So, today I’m going to tackle the linen closet and maybe the baking drawer. Watch out for flying stuff!

Smelly

I’ve recently noticed that I’m a very “smelly” person. (And Hubster’s head just exploded as he thinks of all the things he could say in response to that statement).

Not to say I never smell bad, I mean, come on, I’m only human… but what I mean is that I’m very sensitive to smell. I think I always have been. It used to get me into trouble. As a kid, I smelled things very obviously, much to the embarrassment and frustration of my parents. Yup. It made them nuts. But I really couldn’t help it. As I got older, I learned how to notice smells without sticking my head into my dinner.

I recently bought a bar of Cetaphil soap. As I unwrapped the package, I noticed that I smelled like the lotion my grandmother used to use – Nivea. I didn’t really like the feel of her lotion, but I loved the smell of it. Every time I walk into my bathroom right now, I’m reminded of her.

Smells are very important in my memory. My mother used to use Oil of Olay face lotion (I used to joke and call it oil of Old-age). That’s a smell I always associate with her and my childhood. I still remember the smell of the laundry at my grandmother’s house. It always smelled like fresh air and sunshine. I wanted to bury myself in her blankets when I visited and just absorb all the smell I could.

I can still remember the exact smell of the apartment we lived in when we moved North to be with my stepdad when I was 8.

I love the smell of toast and of coffee. I used to love the smell of the top of my dogs head, now I love the smell of the girl’s heads. I loved the cologne my husband used to wear when we were dating. I love the smell of laundry that’s been dried outside. I love the smell of my house when the windows have been opened with a breeze running through the house. I love the smell of roasted chicken. I love the smell of my linen closet. I love to smell herbs. I love the crisp smell of snow in the air. I used to love the smell of the blanket I carried around as a kid. I love the smell of marshmallows and that first scent when onions start cooking in a pan. I love the smell of curry powder. And of clothes washed in Ivory detergent.

I hate the smell of popcorn, especially microwave popcorn, cheap alfreado sauce or cheap parmesan cheese, ramen noodles, boxed mac and cheese sauce, the pavement after it rains (that smell makes me feel like I can’t get my breath). I hate the smell of lilies. I also hate the residual smell in the house of bacon after it’s been cooked. And the smell of cigarette smoke and anything musty disgusts me. I have a hard time with the smell of tea with milk in it. (why I have no idea). I hate the smell of milk.

I remember when we were selling our house in Eastcoastville and had a showing. We’d gone out for ice cream to get out of the house and when we came back and walked into the house, it smelled ALL WRONG. I could smell the people who had been in there. I hated that I could smell them and opened windows/doors to air the house out. It felt wrong and actually, these people tried to buy the house and the sale fell through multiple times and caused us much stress last summer. I wonder if in hindsight, I knew this. (I had my reservations about that transaction, but we proceeded anyway).

I HATED the smell of the temporary house we had last summer. It made me feel like a caged animal. It was musty and dank and just was just wrong, wrong, wrong. We really didn’t have a good experience living there.

I think my sense of smell is helpful. I think it helps to make me a better cook, and it helps me to know when I’m sick or my kids are sick. It helps me find problem spots in the house – like where the cat was peeing (gross, but true). I know my kids by smell – good and bad – any time.

It’s not so helpful when I’m pregnant. Ugh. And annoying when I’m in a situation where I can’t get away from a smell.

Good or bad (don’t worry , I’m not going to go around smelling you and judging you – but I will laugh if you start sniffing your armpits) I’m curious about the way things smell. It must be some left over feral instinct or something.

I know that Mouse, to a degree has inherited this. I remember the first time she came up to me, grabbed my hand and sniffed my arm. She took a deep breath and said “You smell good. Like Mommy”. I totally identified with her in that moment.

We had been out somewhere the other day and when we walked into the house, the scent of our house wafted over me and I thought “Ah, the smell of my house. It smells like home. And I love it”. I think it took a while for this to feel like OUR “home” to me, but now it smells just right.

Just Ducky, Take 2

Who said there isn't any wild life in the 'burbs?

The ducks came back yesterday, our usual pair. And then another male came along and they were, uh, playing tag... yeah, that's it. Good grief. X-rated duck action in the back yard for all the kiddies to see. I thought this family was G-rated!

And then, last night at dinner, a whole bunch of males came back and strutted around the yard while we ate dinner. Or rather, I should say that Hubster and I ate dinner, the girls, shovelled their food onto the floor trying to wrench their heads around to the window to watch the ever-fascinating ducks.

Just Ducky

This was the scene from my kitchen window yesterday:

You know you’ve had a lot of rain when ducks start hanging out in your yard. Granted, we have a bird feeder and they parked their waddly little behinds under that for a while, before nibbling on some grass and then having a drink from our pool – I mean, pond, I mean huge puddle of floating muddy mulch at the bottom of the slide. I can see the allure of our yard from a duck’s point of view.

And it was a huge delight for the kids. Baboo squealed for at least an hour when she wasn’t quacking, that is.

Now, I wonder if I can invite them back in a few weeks for the all you can eat slug buffet? Hmmmm.

E. Bunny Hops on Through

Mr. Bunny made his visit yesterday morning, leaving behind his cute eggs, instead of other…. um, bunny leavings. Thankfully. The girls were ecstatic, running around collecting little plastic eggs filled with treats and other goodies. Baboo dragged her basket all over the house, and after each egg she found she said “Tank-um” (which is her slang version of thank you). The hunt took all of 6.3 minutes. Oh well. Next year, E. Bunny will make it a bit harder.

We did do a hunt outside after breakfast as well. MRS Bunny (aka ME) was up at 6, crunching around in my pajamas on the frosty grass to hide the dyed eggs in the back yard, after about 3.5 hours of sleep because of a sick little Baboo. I was just falling back to sleep when Mouse came in at 6:45 to announce VERY LOUDLY that the Easter Bunny had been in her room and left a new basket AND EGGS!

All very exciting. And yes we acted very surprised.

I managed to convince her to lay down with me for about 45 minutes to allow Baboo to sleep a bit longer, but then her anxious, excited wiggling drove us out of bed.

All in all we had a good day. It was quiet for us and involved some yard work, but also included much digging up of dirt (to add some mulch under the slide/swings) and highly successful worm hunting. That makes it a good day at our house.

I have to say how much I enjoy being on the giving end of holidays. I know how excited I used to be when I was a kid, waiting for the magic of Christmas, Easter etc… and I love being able to recreate that for our girls.

To commemorate the day, Mouse made a little book called “Mouse’s Egg Adventure”. She drew a bunch of pictures showing where the eggs were hidden –real and imaginary – including the play structure in the back yard WITH the big mud puddle at the bottom of the slide, and an imaginary “pretty, princess tree”. She signed her name to each page (this cracks me up) and asked me to narrate her story by describing the picture on each page. “Egg under a chair. Egg under the slide. Egg under the pretty princess tree”. She read it to us at bed time. This is beyond precious to me and will put this away in her momentos. It’s just so cute.

Baboo had been sick on Saturday, having a fever and an infected vaccination site on her leg which involved a trip to the local clinic, and now 10 days of antibiotics 4 times a day. Oy. She’s much better, he leg looks 100 times better and she is back to her spunky self.

Yesterday was our respite and today Mouse woke up with a fever and croup. Sigh. It’s a crappy, rainy day so we’re hanging out inside, in our jammies, watching waayyy too much tv and likely recreating the ‘GREAT EGG HUNT OF 2009’ several dozen times.

Hope you all had a happy, healthy Easter!

Egg-cellent

Oh, come on! It’s Easter… surely you expected a cheesy egg-referenced title.

This is what we did yesterday…

I cooked up a few eggs in the afternoon and then Mouse asked me about, oh, 290 times when it would be time to decorate eggs. Finally, after trying to get her to wait for Baboo to get up from her nap, I gave in and let her do some. We did a few with the little wax crayon thing and just dyed some plain. It was fun. And addictive.

Then I felt bad because Baboo didn’t get to do any, and well, I did just buy eggs, so I boiled up some more. And we coloured some more when Baboo got up. It was fun and the girls loved it and they turned out really cute.

According to Mouse, we’re going to leave a note for the Easter Bunny to tell him to hide the beautiful eggs we made OUTSIDE for us to find. This will be the first year that we’ll get to do a hunt outside, provided the weather cooperates. I told her the Easter bunny will take note of that.

And now, I have a dozen brightly coloured eggs, stinking up my fridge. Every time we open the door, we get a waft of sulfur (aka fart) right in the face. Hubster gets nauseas just thinking about going to the fridge. And me, being who I am, can’t bear to just THROW THEM OUT (though it’ll depend on how long they’ll be outside, I guess) because god forbid I waste $0.79 on a dozen eggs. I’ve been trying to think of ways to eat them (egg salad, deviled eggs); and make note that I am the only person who will eat hard boiled eggs in this house, without spiking my already high cholesterol to record heights.

Chicken Ticklin'

Mouse had a field trip at a local creamery today and siblings were welcome to come. Baboo was so, so excited to see the cows , it’s all she talked about for days. She kept asking when we were going to see “MY cows”. We’re going through a possessive phase.

The farm was in an area I don’t know very well, and despite mapquest AND the damn GPS in the car, we got lost. Several times. I was frustrated and angry and very disappointed that the girls might miss the greatly anticipated trip to the farm.

As I’m swearing up a storm after I get stuck in the wrong lane behind a truck getting onto the interstate going the WRONG direction and I can’t turn around, Baboo kept asking me “What wong Mama? Where MY cows?” and Mouse sighed dejectedly in the back seat. I think I told them to shut up. Not my finest moment, I’m ashamed to say.

Anyway, a kind parent from Mouse’s class and a sweet waitress at Denny’s helped me get there, and apparently there was a road closure on the route that everyone else used, so the tour started late anyway. We didn’t miss much, thankfully.

We’re walking in the spring sunshine on a beautiful farm, feeling the earth getting ready to explode with life; picturing the farmer’s market specialties that will be available in a few weeks, admiring the calves and taking in the scent of hay and animal. There are a bunch of free range chickens running around (I’m in some kind of chicken heaven, I love chickens) the farm as they have a coop as well, and Baboo keeps trying to catch them. Some of them get close enough for her to touch and she just roars with laughter, which is a bit disruptive to the tour. I took her aside to tell her that she can’t touch the chickens; that they need to just walk around and eat bugs.

She turns to me, very seriously and says “Mama. I don’t want to touch the chickens, I want to tickle them”.

I tried to tell her that chickens don't really want to be tickled, but well, I had a hard time actually saying that because I was too busy cracking up, along with a few other parents around me. Oh well.

Swinging

Mouse has been doggedly working at her independence lately, with a large focus on swinging. She love, love, loves to swing. As a baby, she was happiest in the swing. I almost didn’t buy one because I was sold on the “attachment criticism” of them being “neglect-o-matics”. However, when I learned that I really couldn’t carry her for 23 hours a day without one of us getting hurt, sling or no sling, we broke down and agreed to a swing.

Mouse loved it. She spent a lot of time in it. It was really the only place she would nap and it gave me my 2 hands for a short while in a day. I was paranoid about leaving her in there too long, and so kept checking on her and wringing my hands with worry, but in hindsight, I’m grateful we had it. Swinging has always soothed and calmed her.

When she was old enough to go to the park, she wanted to be in the swing. The whole time. And so we’d go to the park and swing. I spent a lot of time standing at the swing, singing songs, counting, and eventually meeting other swing Mom’s.

After about 4 years of constant pushing on the swing, we made a concerted effort to teach Mouse to pump her legs to swing by herself, especially once we moved to our current house that has a swing set in the back yard. She was so excited to have her own swing that she could play on any time she wanted, but she really didn’t have the coordination/momentum of pumping. When she started school, a few of the kids in her class could pump and get REALLY high. She wanted that so badly… and eventually, it just clicked for her. I remember the day I went out in the back yard to help her swing and lifted her up on to the seat. I pushed her a few times and then she started pumping and making herself go higher. She was just as surprised as I was as she laughed, yelling loudly “MOM! Look at me! I’m doing it! I’m PUMPING!!! Look how HIGH I’m going!”.

Then, learning how to pump just wasn’t enough. She wanted to figure out how to get on the swing by herself (they’re a bit high for her). She worked at it until she could hang onto the chains and hop up on her own. And then she learned how to use momentum to get herself going – entirely by herself. With each achievement, she yelled loudly for all of the surrounding neighbors to hear “MOM! I DID IT MYSELF!!”, followed by a triumphant, gleeful laugh.

Swinging still calms her and when she’s bored or needs to process something, she goes and swings. The swing is almost always the first thing she wants to do at a park or when we’re in the backyard. But right now, I think it’s more than just the act of swinging that’s so enticing. It’s the feelings of pride, independence and freedom that she gets when she asks to go outside and swing. She can go out there on her own, get on the swing on her own, get started on her own, swing as high as she possibly can and know that she’s got the power to do it.

I watch her bright smile under her flying hair shining golden in the sunshine, with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. In the strong, young girl she’s becoming, I see in the little baby nestled into her baby swing, sleeping peacefully.

My stomach clenches every time I watch her body hop out of the seat a bit as she reaches the top of the swing; worried that she might be swinging too high; that she might fall. My heart stops a little each time as I picture my little girl, growing up, swinging through life, soaring to new heights, right before my eyes; all the while praying she doesn’t fall.

Potty Training Casualties

So, the update on Baboo’s potty training progress is mostly positive. Despite today being not such a great day, ok, the worst day so far with regards to accidents, overall, she’s doing pretty well. We do have some accidents and we do have to remind her to go, but overall, she seems able to hold it longer and will initiate going on her own most of the time. She’s really only in pull ups at nap time or if I know she’s really really tired during the day and know that our accident probability increases. She’s in a diaper over night, but only because we’ve got them and want to use them up.

I was in cleaning out mode while we were on spring “break” and have put a few of Baboo's things away. I’m not overly sad to see the change pad go as we haven’t used it in a while and it’s looking old and tired. I have put away the cloth diapers for now, but will likely switch over to those for night time once coverage once we’re finished with this round of disposables. I’ve also put away the diaper pails and I’m definitely glad not to have those out. Though, I know we’ll need one back eventually if we switch back to cloth at night.

Baboo’s crib has been converted to a toddler bed and so the bumper pad is away. I know that it will only be a matter of time before she won’t need the rocking chair in her room any more either. (ok, this makes me a bit sad).

The things that I’m very sad to see go are the overalls. Sigh. I love little kids in overalls. I’ve been fortunate to have had some really cute ones. And though my dryer seems to want to eat them (we’ve had to repair a few straps because the dryer just destroys them), they were my favorite clothing choice for the girls. I loved them as a kid and they were my FAVORITE thing to wear. Always. I called them Farmer Joes. My girls loved them too. But well, despite their cuteness factor, they are not practical for potty training. Buckles and bibs and straps. They’re just too complicated for little hands and tiny bladders. Sigh.

And so, with a sad heart, I bid good bye to the overalls. Sniff.

Exploring My Level of Overstimulation

This past week was spring “break” for us. I use the term loosely because it had not been very “breakish”. We’ve been very busy all week. Not that that is a bad thing, but we are very tired. We ended up having something to do just about every day, doctor’s appointments, play dates, trips to local attractions – you name it.

For the first time, I bit the bullet and took the girls to meet some friends at Chuck E Cheese. The one and only other time I’d been in one was when I was about 11. I was away on a soccer tournament and my billet (do people still do this??) hosts took us there. It was dark, smelled bad, the food was nasty and the everything had a sticky slime on it. Disgusting.

So, I reluctantly agreed to go this week. A friend and her kids wanted us to join them, and so we did. It was bright, generally clean and over all ok. Not as grungy and nasty as that time 20-something years ago. The food was below mediocre, but disturbingly, the girls ate it. I’m hoping it was just that they were hungry and therefore would eat poop on a stick if it was all that was offered, but not because it really was their preference. The girls seemed to enjoy the games and rides and loved that they could do most of it themselves. Overall we had a pretty good time. I won’t be rushing back, because really, this isn't my thing, but it was ok.

I did notice, not unexpectedly, was that the girls were wired by the time we left. There was a huge change in their behavior - more whining than normal, a wild look in their eyes and verging on meltdowns, so naturally, I suspected that they were over stimulated. What surprised me was just how easily *I* am over stimulated.

Well, I guess most people get over stimulated in a noisy bright place like CEC, but well, for me, I was over my limit after about 11 minutes. I got a head ache, cranky, panicky, and just wanted OUT OF THERE. The noise of the stupid mouse thing badly lipsyncing 80’s pop songs clashing with the noise from the games, rides and all the kids was just too much for me. And then, checking out with the ridiculous tickets to choose a bunch of crapola?! Good grief! What a pain in the ass. I wish that my girls weren’t told that you could turn in your tickets for stuff. I would have just ditched the tickets and left.

I spent the rest of the day recuperating from that experience. I felt like every nerve had been jangled and any noise (which is hard to avoid with a 5 and 2 year old) was like a jack hammer on my system.A nap and some alone time was out of the question, so the end result was that I was short tempered and cranky. Not fun.

I was surprised to learn just how sensitive I am to this. I knew that crowds and enclosed spaces (like museums with lots of people) bothered me, but I seriously did not know how strongly this affected me.

Fortunately, the girls seemed to recover pretty easily, but I’ll definitely think twice before doing this again.