But it's fortified with vitamins and minerals!

I totally love sugary cereal. The best is Captain Crunch, aka Captain Gum Shredder. In some circles I am renown for my ability to eat three bowls in a row before my gums begin to shred and bleed. It's good stuff. It says so on the box.

My love for the Captain has led me to be one of those moms who lets my children pick out Lucky Charms at the store, lick the spoon when I make brownies, eat raw cookie dough with a blithe disregard for the risk of salmonella, and generally treat sugar as a treat that is to be enjoyed in moderation and never demonized.

But then I bought Lauren some Tinker Bell vitamins.

I've been giving the girls gummy-chewy vitamins intermittently all their lives, or at least as long as they were capable of chewing a gummy bear without choking. You know how it is, sometimes we remember, sometimes we don't. They are generally healthy so I don't sweat it. But I recently made a change to Lauren's diet, significantly reducing her milk intake to see if it made a difference with her eczema. I've been hearing for years about the milk/eczema relationship, but her eczema seemed more related to either extreme dryness (winter) or extreme sweatiness (summer), with periods of relative remission in between. While we were on spring break this year she drank just about nothing but water and juice boxes, and I noticed that her eczema had disappeared. I chalked it up to the healing qualities of salt air until a week after we got home and it was BAD. Itchy, red... and she had been drinking milk morning noon and night.

I quit serving her milk. In two days the eczema was gone again. Hmmm.

Her doctor said milk could definitely be the culprit, so if I was going to limit the milk and cheese I needed to be vigilant about a multi-vitamin. She chose the Tinker Bell ones and we went home from the store. That night we opened the fresh bottle, chock-full of sparkling stars, butterflies, wands..... wait. Sparkling? Why are vitamins sparkling?!

BECAUSE THEY ARE COATED WITH SUGAR!

That's right. I have just purchased an entire jar of vitamins that are coated in sugar. And not a little bit of sugar. These things look like they've been coated in glue and pasted with rhinestones.

I went a little nuts, ranting on to the girls about how they better enjoy these vitamins because this was the last time they were EVER getting sugar-coated vitamins (Yeah, Grace got some Hannah Montana ones too. I hate that girl.), I couldn't BELIEVE that they even make sugar coated vitamins, and they darn well better eat them BEFORE they brush their teeth not after, because otherwise they will go to bed and get cavities while they are sleeping.

Then I went downstairs and had a bowl of Captain Crunch.

So now we're two for two.

Friday night was Grace's first softball practice. She doesn't know it, but she's really a good athlete. Great hand-eye coordination (which she did NOT get from me), good balance, and she has that thing I hate in other people where everything she tries she pretty much figures out how to do in about five minutes.

The girls were lined up across from each other in pairs, playing catch more or less. And then...

Grace got hit in the face with the ball.

Right above her eye.

She cried so hard that this time I DID run out there and look. Her forehead was red and I was pretty sure she was going to wind up with a major shiner, but I just held her close and told her it was fine. The crazy thing is, it was fine. Three minutes later she was back to throwing and catching, and there is absolutely not a mark on her face.

But I think from now on I'll just keep the baby in the car.

And that's what you call a slam-bang start!

Last night was Lauren's first soccer game. She was alternately excited to be participating in the same sport as her friend Georgia, who is a big, cool, kindergartener, and appalled and angry about wearing large padded socks up to her knees. Also, she was a wee bit disappointed that her team shirt turned out NOT to be purple.

But the game must go on.

First play of the game Lauren lines up around the circle in the center spot. The other team gets the first kick and WHAM! Lauren gets smacked square in the face with the ball. I mean, you could hear the thuhwack from the sideline.

It was heartbreaking and I did the only thing I thought was right. I stayed in my chair and didn't say a word. Her coach ran over and checked her out, and gave me a glance to let me know that Lauren was relatively okay, only psychically injured. Lauren cried, copious tears that were more about fear and shock than pain. Still, I stayed in my chair.

Lauren cried through the whole game. Once or twice she kicked the ball, and once she got to make the starting kick herself. She's got dead-on aim. Her tears slowed, but mostly she stood rooted with her hands up by her face. It was killing me, but A) she stayed out there and didn't try to leave the field, B) her team only has 6 kids so they couldn't really afford for her to be out, and C) I don't think it's a good idea to always rush to the side of your kid, especially when you know they are more scared than hurt. I wanted her to be brave and realize that things were really okay, and that we were still there watching, but we couldn't play the game for her.

But I felt like a heel.

The brownie and juice box afterward worked wonders for her soul, as did the visit from Georgia, whose game had ended first. She's already looking forward to Saturday's game.

I, however, am still recovering.

the raw truth

A couple of days ago I was snuggling in bed with Lauren on a Saturday afternoon in a desperate attempt to get her to nap. It wasn't working, but that's beside the point.

As I lay there sort of marveling at her still baby-fatty elbows and hands, and wondering when she might stop flopping around like a walleye trapped on the dock, she snuggled up close and looked up into my eyes. In a perfect stage whisper she said, "mama, you have bears in the cave."

You can do maaagic....

My good friend Hannah is a first-time mother (and one of, like, 3 people who read this blog so I hope you don't mind that I'm talking about you). Her new daughter was born on my oldest daughter's birthday, which makes it easy for me to remember and also is pretty cool. Avery is bright-eyed with wild hair and a look of total happiness on her face. I'm sure this baby must cry, but no one ever takes pictures of that part, so from my point of view she is the happiest baby on earth.

Hannah is awash in new-mother joy and tiredness, but mostly joy I think. She wrote a blog post recently about how she hopes she can create the magic for Avery that her parents created for her growing up. I know what she means. Making magic is the best part of being a parent. Playing Santa and watching your kids faces light up as they come downstairs in the pre-dawn, twinkly-tree light to discover a plate full of cookie crumbs on the hearth. Slipping your hand under their crinkly pillow to spirit away a tiny tooth and replace it with a gold dollar or two. Deep discussions about how Ariel lives at Disney World but still visits her sisters and King Triton in the ocean. It's magic of the very best kind because when you create it for them you're living it yourself.

But I'll tell you something. I'm on baby #3 and I'm wishing for another kind of magic. For example:

- I'd like to make my childrens' voices magically disappear when they begin to whine.
- I'd like their lunches to magically be made and sitting by the door when I get up in the morning. It's the easiest job I do and I freaking hate it.
- I'd like to magically remove every Littlest Pet Shop bobble-head freak animal, Barbie, Hannah Montana doll, and Dora-with-baby-twins-in-a-snuggli doll from its packaging on Christmas Eve without having to get out a pair of pliers and a band saw.
- I'd like my children to magically learn to love fruit, vegetables and my cooking. Before age 35.
- I'd like to magically be able to sleep 9 hours a night without having to go to bed at 8:30 pm to do it.
- I'd like Mary Poppins to magically land on my doorstep and not only be my nanny for the next three years but to do it for free.

That last one is definitely NOT going to happen.

But you can always dream.

P.S. I've been away a long time. I've been kinda busy. But I miss writing so I'll try to do a little more and thanks for reading. All 3 of you.

I'm not usually a worrier, but still...

what if my boobs wind up permanently lopsided from their slightly uneven milk production?

how will I get three kids to bed? In the same evening? In a reasonable amount of time? And without falling asleep myself?

will I ever sleep again once Anne comes home?

why are my boobs so freaking itchy half the time?

will Lauren ever stop getting syrup in her hair?

why can't the Bears seem to win a game? (I actually know the answer to this one.)

will my inability to resist garlic and Diet Coke make my breastmilk taste horrible?

what if I lose my mind being in semi-quarantine this winter?

which is a better value - DirecTV with premium channels or just upping my Netflix to the one where you can have three movies at a time?

who puts nuts in perfectly good brownies?

does Chad Ochocinco know that that's not how you say 85 in Spanish?

if I ever met Tina Fey we could really kinda be friends, right?

is it just me or does Jay Cutler look like he's just thinking, "kiss my ass people"?

how long will it be before my children can go to the bathroom all by themselves? With no need for me to be even within 10 feet of the bathroom door?

why do we have to start listening to Christmas music in public places when Thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet?

I wish.

If only it were this easy....