Princess Clara

Once upon a time there was a Princess named Clara who had sparkling blue eyes, big cheeks, curly locks and absolutely no interest in utilizing the princess potty that her mother had spent $37.50 on. She preferred frolicking about, in a bulky diaper, dispensing emotional assertions as if only a finite amount of emotions were available to dispense and she wanted to just get it all over with and live happily ever after in a state of ambivalence.
One time, as a result of a disturbing sequence of events (Her yellow sippy cup was not available and the royal pantry was devoid of beige food products) she asserted for 180 minutes straight and it was a time of sadness for her mother who was already busy mopping up a puddle full of Zoë.
When Princess Clara wasn't dispensing emotional assertions, she could frequently be found singing to her court in a deep raspy voice and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine that she was a teenage runaway belting out "Somewhere over the rainbow" in the corner of a smoky lounge, hiding from her cruel mother.
All of the people living in her kingdom (ok so maybe just her mother) spent their nights praying that the princess would wake up in a happy mood as you could not find a more charming princess then Clara when she was happy. She would curl up in your lap, twirl her finger around her curly locks, and beam up at you in such a way that you might want to put on your dark glasses and wear 50spf sunscreen just to be safe. And she would giggle and exclaim "I really love you" as she tried to perform raspberry kisses on your cheeks, which is logistically impossible to do, when you are giggling, which would make her laugh harder and then she and everyone in her court, would lay out on the floor in a state of bliss wishing that the moment would never end.
LORD HEAR OUR PRAYER.

A Zoë Story

There once was a Zoë named Zoë and she was little and she loved her binky and mommy and some other people very much. But mostly she loved her binky.
She toddled about her day with her tiny feet balanced precariously in her sisters glitter shoes, which were far too big, as she found the horizontal leverage helpful. Indeed these shoes operated much like a plow in keeping products and services out of her way. Products like matchbox cars and services like mommy's eyelash curlers, which are always strewn about because when things are going poorly mommy finds it quite therapeutic to give her lashes a little lift!
The Zoë would start this shoveling promptly every morning at 5:30 a.m. in the family room and continue on in such a manner until she reached her bedroom, at the back of the house, where she would deposit the mound of products and services in the corner where all the dust bunnies dwell and replicate. As a result of this morning regimen she has developed voluptuous calves and it is a thing of beauty.
And while this was mostly a happy time for her, sometimes the Zoë happened upon something in her way that she was unfamiliar with and she would point and call out, "That sing, that sing!" And her mommy, who followed her about, would answer, even though it was 5:30 A.M. because the Zoë was cute in big glitter shoes with her sleepy face and wing-ed hair. But sometimes the Zoë wouldn't like the answer and would ask the mommy too many times what something was and the mommy would tire of saying the same thing over and over so she would spill herself on the floor in a pool of Zoe and fuss and cry until she forgot about "that sing" and then she would rise and continue on in her Zoë way.

It should also be said that, in addition to her binky, some people and glitter shoes, Zoë loved Raffi very much, which was unfortunate for her mother who loved Nine Inch Nails, BB King and Karen Carpenter equally.

Our Zoë is bigger now and onto bigger adventures like spilling herself all over the floor in bigger pools of Zoë, but her mommy is in the process of undergoing and elective lobotomy via an exceptional bottle of Pinot Noir so she will have to return to the first person to tell some more stories sometime soon.

Dolly held in captivity attempts escape!

Dolly focuses her eyes keenly on her subjugator, princess Clara and notices that she is actively engaged in a photo shoot. Dolly sees this as an opportunity to escape her nearly 30-day captivity where she has been held against her bitty will, in a reclining position, pinned down under a white blanket. Look closely and you will see that Dolly has managed to squirrel her right hand out from under the blanket. Dolly slowly inches her right hand toward the stroller-retaining arm waiting for the perfect moment to launch herself over the Little Tikes Country Kitchen straight through the window behind her. Dolly knows Clara won't be able to chase her with much speed in her two sizes too big cowgirl boots, plus the black shiny pleather purse, which contains several pounds worth of fake makeup, weights her down.

This photo was taken moments before Dolly's attempt. Unfortunately Clara sensed her prisoners steady gaze and decided abruptly that the photo shoot was over and it was time to take Dolly back to the family room for a picnic lunch where Dolly was spoon fed pretend applesauce and corn fritters.

Fervent Fighting as Sibling Rivalry Reaches Fever Pitch

Dear little Darlings, especially Max and Clara, (Although Zoë, you've been implicating all 32 inches of your vertical leverage into the situation lately as well!)

Sibling rivalry has reached fever pitch and mommy is on the verge of a psychotic break. It's only 9:52 A.M. right now and I've already exhausted all of my politically correct coping mechanisms, which means that it's time for Mommy Juice only it's really not TIME for mommy juice for another 428 minutes.
I've read "Siblings Without Rivalry", enthusiastically employed their recommendations, and have enjoyed negligible success. Apparently in their research they failed to study families of the order of Willful Uprights. People who would walk the face of the earth in shackles to make a point. My people. I suspect their studies included passive parents, docile children or those lucky families enveloped in the love fog of Attachment Parenting. Sure these families exist. I know them and their parents aren't along side me sweating it at Borders Bookstore when I'm desperately combing the bookshelves for a solution other than DNA replacement therapy.
Even shopping for toys has become a problem. I find myself evaluating whether or not the products face value will be lowered if its pulled apart into three pieces and really now that doesn't leave us with many options other than those tasty pre-segmented tootsie rolls but they don't sell those at Whole Foods Market so we are really up a creek.
If I'm really trying to maintain my position of "Up with Toddlers and Preschoolers" I can say that as you've gone deeper into the trenches of combat, I've gone deeper into the trenches of housecleaning. I guess I turn to cleaning when I can't CONTROL MY CHILDREN because I can CONTROL THE ANT POPULATION by shining my sink with Windex, which smells good, and then all of a sudden I'm confronted with an Inhalant Addiction. Soon I'll be hiding out in the back of the mini van during naptime huffing Windex and then they'll be coming to take me away to a place where I won't have to do our laundry anymore. A place where they dole out soothing narcotics and mommy might not want to come back even after they deem me fit to return to "society". Getting me out of your way may actually be your plan, but I highly doubt that my replacement will be any better! Sure she might feed you a steady stream of candy and bug juice, but soon you'll have ADHD and will be spending your Saturday mornings in the dentists' chair and where's the fun in that?
Clara, I ask you: Who else is going to share your LOVE of Hello Kitty? A love that I have pruned and nurtured over the past 3.45 years like a beloved rose?
Zoë, who on this fine Earth is going to know what you're talking about when you communicate in Zoë speak? And really you only afford a 1-minute interpretation window before you pour yourself all over the floor in despair. "opsickle, opsickle!". Finally, my Max, who's going to sit and listen to your grand plans to launch a COUP D'ETAT against Pable, Uniqua, Austin, Tasha and Tyrone of the BackYardigans with your Lego weaponry? What I really want to say back to you is "Talk is Cheap; their Theme Song is weak; Let's take action!"
But it's really not too late to nip this fighting in the bud. You're going to need each other to corroborate stories in your teens and your going to need me to assist in paying for your College Educations or Psychiatric Counseling, whichever the case may be.
Stop the madness.
Just get along.

SURGEON GENERALS WARNING: MOTHERS LIVING IN ENVIRONMENTS WHERE EXCESSIVE SIBLING RIVALRY EXHISTS ARE AT HIGH RISK FOR INHALANT ADDICTIONS AND ADMITTANCE TO FACILITIES THAT DISPENSE SOOTHING NARCOTICS.

Attention Max, Clara and Zoe! Warning from the Surgeon General!

********WARNING*******

The Surgeon General has determined that Sibling Rivalry releases noxious toxic gases like Carbon Monoxide into the environment.

The Surgeon General has also determined that quitting Sibling Rivalry now greatly reduces serious risks to your mothers emotional and mental health later.