Fourteen Weeks

I Wanna Cape!

Yet again, Mother's Day found the Hayward-Uptons wandering the streets of Somerville, MA.  Why?  Because nothing says Mother's Day like a good 5k, at least for our friends the Ahouses, whom we like enough to humor.

The day started off with a 1k Fun Run for the kiddos.  This part is always a blast for the kids who get to run and the parents who get to run with them and take their pictures.

There's Frances and Sophia in the middle with some friends.  See how Sophia is #19 and Frances is #433?  That says something about their mothers' organizational skills and enthusiasm for running.

Away we go!

Last year, there was crying and bringing up the rear.  This year, the girls seemed to get the hang of it.  After the race, all the kids got ribbons.  Sophia and Frances were a tad excited.

Next, it was time for the adults to run.  I have to admit it was a blast.  As usual, Dave pushed Frances and Sophia (he says he'll do it again next year when the kids are four; he just hopes their size won't affect his time - barf-o-rama).  Mark pushed Theo and Chandler and Michele and I ran.  Gratuitous bragging coming up: This was the first jogging I'd done since being six months pregnant, many moons ago, so I was expecting to get through by alternating walking and jogging for a couple minutes each.  I jogged the whole way on this very non-namby-pamby course!  I was so pleased with myself I wanted a medal or cape or some sort of ridiculous recognition.  I was walking on air the whole rest of the day.

Back at the finish line, Chandler slept in her stroller.  In her defense, she'd rolled over for the first time the day before so she was probably worn out.

The gang back at the finish line, all smiles:

There's actually a legitimate reason Mark wore a button-down shirt to a race.  Last year, Mark spectated with Theo while the rest of us ran.  This year, when I asked him if he wanted to walk with Theo and Chandler, Mark assumed I meant he'd be walking around while we ran.  But I really meant he'd be joining the walkers in the race while pushing the two little kids.  We didn't understand there'd been a mix-up until we were pinning on numbers.  And he jogged the last mile or so with me while pushing the little kids!  I was so pleased with us.

A last shot before going back to the Ahouses for brunch (Michele must have heeded my whining last year about wanting a brunch on Mother's Day): 

And then we ate, a lot.

I believe the rest of the day consisted of lying around on any flat surface we could find.  It was a great day.

Don't Tell Betty

Frances has been interested in finger nail and toe nail painting lately.  Not sure why.  She wanted to try it out the other day, but we didn't have any nail polish in the house - not such a surprise, really.  Frances made do with her Do-A-Dot paint pens and a semi-willing assistant.

Trying to be a good sport, the next day I bought Frances, my three year old, her first bottle of nail polish (that's the part I wouldn't share with Betty Friedan, or a living feminist).  Frances was thrilled, naturally, and ready to paint any nail in sight.  Even good ol' Mark came under Frances's brush.  I took pictures of his painted toe nails, but I think it would be detrimental to my marital health to post those pictures on the internet, so just imagine Mark with pink sparkly toes.  Betty might have liked that!

Forty-Two Months of Preschooler Frances

You know how they recommend getting your picky eater involved with her food to make her more willing to try new foods?

Guess how that worked out?

Forty-Two Months Fun Facts

• Frances's Mispronunciations:  One of my favorites right now is "eleventeen."  Frances throws it in any time she's counting over ten and gets stuck.  So we get, "ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, eleventeen, sixteen."  Very useful.
• Frances on growth:  Frances has been talking a lot about growing lately.  The idea seems to make her nervous, like she's afraid it's going to hurt.  I'm sure this has something to do with Chandler.  We try to reassure her that growing won't be so bad, since any kid with a six foot, six inch father probably has a lot of growing to do.
• Frances's Triumph:  In preparation for Frances's end of the school year parent-teacher conference, I had to list her recent accomplishments at home.  I was really impressed with how many I came up with.  The potty training was huge, of course.  And her rediscovered ability to go to sleep on her own is a real sanity saver.  Pepperoni is no longer a staple of her diet, mostly because I hardly give it to her anymore.  She tries a new food every night.  So far, trying new foods has not led her to expand her repertoire at all - she's only interested in one bite of each new food - but it still feels like progress.  And she seems to be doing great with her sister.  Certainly, there are bad days, but there's also cause for hope.

Three Months of Baby Chandler

This is going to count for the Thirteen Weeks picture, too.

Wake up, Little Suzie!

One of these two was on her (or his!) first nap.  The other hadn't quite made it out of bed yet. Can you guess which is which?

Wake Up The Earth Festival

The annual "Eat, Drink and Be Merry Because It's Not Winter Anymore" festival happened again this past weekend (the hippie hosts like to pretend we're "waking up the Earth" but I don't think the Earth really needs help in that department).  Last year, Frances was a little under the weather for the event.  This year, she seemed to enjoy herself, even if she was fighting a cold.  With a little encouragement, she was willing to try out this drum/bucket.

Like last year, Mark is opposed to "hippie" festivals.  This is the look he gave me when I suggested that he dance with Frances to the great band.

But, really, how can a dad resist dancing with this kiddo?

That's Mark dancing.

"Listen to the rhythm.  Don't be scared."*

And Chandler slept in her Bjorn.

*Ten points to the first commenter who can identify the movie source of that line.  No fair Googling.

Broadmoor Wildlife Sanctuary

Continuing on with our Mass Audubon Fridays, Chandler, Frances and I visited Broadmoor Wildlife Sanctuary in Natick.  It was perfect for us and a beautiful day for it.

Our favorite feature of Broadmoor was a boardwalk over a marsh.  Here's Frances on the boardwalk consulting her map.  She's fond of maps, either because of her admiration of all-things-Dora or her genetic link to her Mimi.  I'm inclined to favor the former (sorry, Mimi).

The marsh was full of turtles warming themselves in the Spring sun.  I love the Spring!

I'm not sure Frances ever realized she was looking at turtles, but she did offer to go swimming in the marsh.  I suggested we find a less marshy body of water to swim in.

Back on dry land, we saw these fiddlehead ferns (I'm related to my father's mother, so I'm genetically inclined to make up plant names).

These were just your run of the mill daffodils, but they were oh, so lovely (maybe I got an appreciation for daffodils from my father's mother, too).

Frances collected some pine cones.

And she arranged them thus:

When I said they looked like an "F," she corrected me.  They were actually ice cream.  Ice cream is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose.  Frances insisted we take the pine cones home and paint them.

Now we've got a head start on new ornaments for our Christmas tree.

Twelve Weeks