Midwest Vs. East Coast

Last night Marcus and I got into a debate about whether it would be appropriate for a 15-year-old to hang-out and spend time with an 8-year-old.  I am of the opinion that, and no matter the sex of the person, a 15-year-old has no business playing with an 8-year-old unless I am paying them to do so (i.e. babysitting...I realize that sounded funny).  Marcus did not agree.  He claimed that as long as the child is of good character their age is of little importance.

We went 'round and 'round, both of us stuck on our main issue.  I was adamant that any 15-year-old who does not have friends of their own age might have developmental or psychological issues that could affect a younger child.  He did not follow.  Finally, exasperated, I asked him exactly what he was doing at 15-years-old to which he replied "I don't know.  Catching frogs, building forts..." Aha!  And there we had it.  While Huckleberry Finn was growing up, innocent in the Midwest, I was on the East coast behaving like your more typical 15-year-old:  Daydreaming about boys, reading "Seventeen" magazine, and possibly  definitely already having had my first sip of alcohol.

I'm not sure if we really concluded the debate except that we both agreed we lived two very different lives prior to meeting each other.  I just hope he doesn't expect our girls to be building forts at 15.

Alex Says...

I've been meaning to write down some of the things Alexandra says.  She's been cracking us up lately with her smart responses and ideas on how the way things work.  Alex is a very serious little girl and oftentimes will tell us information with such conviction that we wonder if what she's saying is true.  She recently told us that there was a certain type of horse that only came out at night and as she told us with such a straight face we thought for a brief second she just might be right.

The other day I heard her trying to play a game with her little sister called "Jesus and God."  My ears perked up when I heard this and started paying attention.  While we do go to church we don't often discuss God or Jesus so I was curious to hear her rendition.  Essentially, she wanted Josephine to be God and to lead her, "Jesus," on the donkey.  Josephine wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of playing God and she kept telling her sister so.  However, Alex being her usual level of bossy, finally led an exasperated Josephine to say "I don't want to be God.  God is turning into Elsa."  That was the end of "God and Jesus" as interpreted by Alexandra.

One day recently we passed an old cemetery and Alex asked what it was.  I explained to her that when people die they sometimes like to be buried underground in a cemetery.  For whatever reason I then felt it necessary to tell her my and Marcus's wish when we die.  I said to Alex "When mommy and daddy die we want you to turn us into diamonds" to which she replied "But mommy, I don't know how to do that!"  I laughed and said "Well, no, I know that.  We want you to pay someone to do it" to which she then replied "But I don't have any money!"  I was blown away by her logic and only slightly disturbed by her lack of concern at the thought of mommy and daddy one day dying.

On the way home one evening, all four of us in the car, I was talking to Marcus about watching the movie Ghostbusters and how scary it was.  I mentioned that if Alex had woken up and seen some it she might have been scared.  This immediately peaked her interest and we soon had twenty questions hurtling our way about a movie she had no concept of.  When I told her that I didn't think she was old enough to watch the movie because it had scary ghosts in it she said, in all seriousness, "I'm not afraid of any ghosts" which naturally started a fit of laughter in the front of the car despite the fact she was not aware of how ironically funny her statement was.

Unlike most women, I do not believe that becoming a mother has made me a better person.  I scream, I curse, I experience intense feelings of rage, and I fall into depressions.  I feel guilty every waking moment that I'm not being the person I should be for my children.  I don't do arts and crafts with them, I don't bake or cook with them, I hardly teach them anything at all.

Lately, a good day has been waking up, feeding them at least twice a day, and enforcing naptime with an iron fist.  Neither of my girls knows what its like not to have a mommy who yells and screams at them; who constantly threatens with swats on the bottom, time-outs, or the removal of a beloved item.

I've come to realize the oldest is scared of me.  She had a potty accident at the store one evening and told her dad not to tell mommy.  My anger and inability to control it has clearly affected her and I don't know how to change it.  When every move as a mother is imparted as a lesson for the children it occurs to me that I'm failing miserably as my children have learned nothing but fear and how to scream at each other rather than talking calmly when conflict arises.

This is not to say that my love for my children isn't strong.  I know that somehow, despite my failures, they do know I love them and we share tender moments sporadically through the day.  I meet their needs as best I can.  I just don't know if my best is good enough. 

Anatomy 101

The following few phrases have literally left my lips:


"Ladies, please stop spreading each other's butt cheeks."


"That's enough with kissing each other's butts."


"Jo, if your vagina were green we would have serious problems." (I'm fairly certain this comes from her confusing the color red and green)


"Don't put your hand in your butt at the dinner table, sweetie."


"Wait, where did you say you were going to put that?  No, do not put that in your butt.  We do not put things in our butts."


Obviously, anatomy is a large part of our day.

The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

To update anyone who cares (all one of you) the family is packing-up and shipping-out to Williamsburg, VA.  First of all, our current home has been on the market since December in anticipation of a summer move and we were surprised when we got an offer last week.  We were not expecting the house to sell so quickly given the amount of competition and lack of buyers but, barring any catastrophes, the new owners sign the papers on 30 March.  Secondly, and shortly after a contract was signed to sell our home, Marcus was offered and accepted a new position.  So, while we have managed for one of us to be continuously employed we will be homeless.

Once we knew Marcus had the job we quickly worked into our schedule (as in Marcus rearranged his schedule and the girls and I just did what we do every day but in a different place) a visit to Williamsburg.  Marcus and I spent two days looking at homes without one of them looking like a remote possibility.  Of course, we have two different ideas of what we are looking for.  Marcus wants an investment property and I also want an investment property but one that the family can move into right away and be comfortable.  I have been investment property hunting with Marcus before and while all of the houses had a floor (yes, we once looked at a potential purchase that did not have a FLOOR), none of them would be adequate for the girls and I to live in for quite some time; I am still getting the stench of one out of my nostrils.

Both of us are feeling kind of dejected about the housing prospects in Williamsburg but we know if we bide our time that something will come up.  So, as a result of everything happening at a break-neck speed and having almost no time to buy a home even if one were good enough to move into, the girls and I will be moving-in with my mom at the beginning of April and Marcus will be a geo-bachelor spending his time between Jacksonville, Norfolk, and Fredericksburg.  This is not an ideal situation and having Marcus gone so much is going to be miserable but at least we will have my mom and will be close to Marcus's parents (not to mention all of our friends that I have missed terribly).

So, in honor of our quickly approaching move I have compiled a list of both the positives and negatives of having lived in Jacksonville, or, living the "Salt-Life" as 99.9% of the vehicles around here will have you believe.

1.  This will probably sound strange but I am going to miss the sight of helicopters and MV-22 Osprey flying around.  No matter how many times the girls and I see them we stop and watch as they fly overhead.  What I will not miss are the "sounds of freedom" such as mortar blasts beginning at 7 in the morning and running through to midnight. 

2.  I am going to miss the flat running terrain that is the beach.  The lone hill in the area is about as challenging as walking up the stairs and I am pretty sure my children could run up and down it for days.  I will not miss the daily 30 mph winds that seemingly have no direction and are constantly blowing me back as I try to push a double jogging stroller which is pretty much like wearing one of those flying squirrel suits and running through a wind tunnel.

3.  I am not going to miss living in the jacked-up truck mecca of the United States.  Which leads me to a personal pet peeve which is, if you do drive a jacked-up truck at least know how to park the damn thing in order to not take up more space than you already do.  Anyway, half of the trucks around here have fake diesel exhaust pipes on the back and some sort of slightly offensive slogan plastered on the window.  I suppose one positive aspect of having giant exhaust pipes shooting straight into the air is that the rest of us lowly little car drivers are being saved the carbon monoxide being blown directly in our faces as we sit at a traffic light.

4.  Speaking of driving, I will not miss the sound of motorcycles riding by.  I can hear them when they get to the end of the neighborhood and turn onto the main road revving as hard and as fast as they possibly can.  I still cannot believe I have not heard one crash which I suppose is a positive.

5.  I will miss the house we live in.  Our house has been the only thing I honestly love about living in Jacksonville.  It is the perfect size and layout for our family and the girls have done quite a bit of growing-up in it.  I imagine it will be the first house Alex remembers living in, though Jo will probably not remember it as she grows older.  Nothing has proven to us just how much we love this house than the last few days, looking at less than ideal homes.

Sinterklaas

Given the fact that the girls are 50% Dutch (with a smattering of many other European ethnicities thanks to my genes) we were encouraged to practice the Dutch tradition of Sinterklaas.  Marcus vaguely recalls Sinterklaas visiting when he was a child but I'm not entirely sure this is an actual Tepaske tradition because, also according to Marcus, he was a saint as a child.

Anyway, I started talking to the girls about who Sinterklaas was (though did not include information about Zwarte Piet which apparently wasn't such a bad idea since he is apparently a figure of consternation for everyone else except the Dutch people).  This proved to be a challenge mostly because Alexandra is in her question everything stage.  I was forced to hit such hard-hitting questions such as:

Alexandra: "Where does Sinterklaas live?"
Me: "He lives with Santa Claus in the North Pole."

Followed by my personal favorite:
Alexandra: "Is he Santa Claus's husband?"
Me: "No, he's his cousin."

Alexandra: "Does he have a car?"
Me: "No, he has a horse, which is way cooler."
Alexandra: "Yeah."

Alexandra: "Is he coming to our house?"
Me: "He's going to visit us tomorrow night and leave little gifts in your wooden shoes."

Josephine then interjected with: "I don't like him, Sinterklaas, no." (We're working on sentence structure)

Alexandra: "What color is his hair?" "White." "What color are his gloves?" "Purple." "What color is his cape?" "Red." "What color is his horse?" "White." (This is while we color a picture of Sinterklaas on his horse, Amerigo.  Also, to note, the only reason I even knew the answer to any of these questions is I had to Google it...hence the reason I know the horse's name)

The conversation dwindled from there as we finished working on our Sinterklaas coloring pages.

This morning the girls woke up though didn't immediately think of Sinterklaas.  We finally pointed out that he had visited us after they had breakfast and they opened the little gifts that were left in their wooden clogs.  In the end, I think Alexandra is less enamored with Sinterklaas though is thoroughly excited about Santa Claus's visit as she's just beginning to realize exactly what Christmas entails (read:  PRESENTS!), and Josephine is harboring major anxiety over the thought of a strange man lurking through the house despite the fact he's leaving PRESENTS!

Sinterklaas visits the Tepaske's

Josephine is Two!

Poor, Jo.  She turned two over ten days ago and I'm just now getting around to writing a little something about her crazy butt.  In my defense we've been on the go, traveling to Boston and back, and time has just simply gotten away from me.

So, where to start.  Josephine.  She is something.  She is strong-willed, loving, silly, weirdly aggressive, and growing up way too fast.  Her sentences consist of at least four words and she can clearly verbalize what she wants in either a normal tone of voice or by screaming as she is more likely to do.  She loves dogs but is scared to death when they get too close.  She is also still in the throes of "stranger danger" and has been for a very long time.  While she exudes confidence the minute she thinks we're abandoning her she becomes a mess.  We have noticed a small change in that it takes about five minutes for her to get over it rather than 50 so that's promising.

Josephine will only do what Josephine wants to do though, with a little bargaining, she generally comes around.  Time-outs are a daily threat for her and she's beginning to realize that there are times when mommy means business.  Naturally, I understand this is also a stage of toddlerhood but she has a little more emphasis behind her stubbornness than Alex ever did.

She loves her big sister.  Anything Alex does Jo does.  She wants to be next to her at all times and often, after she wakes from her nap, the first thing she wants to know is where her sissy is.  They do get along very well, though have their fair share of fights as any couple would.  This afternoon, for example, Jo was particularly upset about something only she knows and I asked Alex to fetch Jo from where I had left her on the side of the house.  Less than a minute later they come around the corner, hand in hand, Jo with slight tears in her eyes but overall happy again.  That is all I can ask for as they grow; I wish this helping and caring relationship continues through the rest of their lives.

Josephine is silly.  Much sillier than Alex.  I tend to think of Alex as my "old soul."  She's more serious than most three-year-olds and her silly behavior sometimes comes across as forced.  Jo, on the other hand, she commands an audience for her antics and makes sure all are paying attention.  She eats doughnuts with her feet (something I allowed because we were at the beginning of a ten hour car ride), does interpretive dancing to any song, likes to make silly faces, sings along to songs, and overall loves to be the center of attention.

She is also strangely aggressive and often gets a wild eyed look as she's strangling me or wiping my face or "braiding" my hair.  Seriously.  I think she's out to get me and the look that crosses her face, as it changes from a loving little girl to possessed toddler, tells me as much.

Josephine is also a lot more girly than Alex.  She likes baby dolls, dressing-up, stuffed animals, and clothes and shoes.  She actually likes for me to do her hair, often asking that I braid it which is impossible yet I pretend as if I've done so...not sure how long I'll be able to pull that off.  She also recognizes Gap packages and quickly starts undressing in order to try on the new clothes.

In all it would be a lonely life without Josephine.  It would also be a quieter life but that's not such a big deal.  She's the perfect match for her big sissy and the perfect ending to our family.

Our little goofball