The Little Memories I Hope to Remember (aka Mom Things)

Late one night, long after the kids have gone to sleep, you hear a shuffling noise from the kitchen.  Oh, that was just Sarah pulling the pack-n-play across the entire house.  She brought it to your bedroom where she declared, "I want this."

Apparently it's not all that uncommon for a child to induce vomiting when forced to try a food that they don't like.  It's less common for it to happen when the food that they don't like is a common potato.  Good grief. 

While the whole thing was going down, one sister was laughing and the two-year-old sister was miming an open mouth as if pleading with her brother to comply, because, really, it's just easier that way.

Whenever one of your other children is being reprimanded, the two-year-old declares, "I'm being a good girl."  We think she just wants it on the record, because, you know, she's usually the one getting in trouble.

Case in point:  In front of the large after-church crowd on the front porch of Cracker Barrel, said two-year-old pulled her panties down to her ankles and pulled her dress up to her chin and declared, "I need go potty!"  Yes.  It appears that way, Sarah.  Let's go to the restroom and do that.

Abby's idea of "watching Leah" is dragging her under the kitchen table and reading to her.  You know what, they were both happy.  Sounds good to me.

With only 4 days left in the school year, your pre-k daughter got her first tardy because when you pulled up to the school with 13 minutes left before the late bell, she informed you that she was missing a shoe.  Yes.  A single shoe.  After a momentary lapse in judgment where you contemplated sending her to class in just one shoe, you dropped your second grader off, high-tailed it home as quickly as possible, retrieved the shoe which was dropped about 5 feet from the van door and returned to school only to have to walk inside with your sleeping newborn in a carrier and your syrup-covered, pajama-wearing two year old with shoes on the wrong feet.  When you signed your tardy daughter in you listed "Forgot ONE shoe at home" as the reason.  Maybe the office staff will find that funnier than you did.

You can make your 7-week smile by simply uttering the sound "guh."  If only the other kids were that simple.

After watching Peter Pan with her big siblings, you overheard Sarah with her Barbies saying, "Arggh!  I Captain Hook" and "Hi, matey!"

Despite your aversion to playing with plush animals outside, you can't stop yourself from letting the girls take the Care Bears on the playground.  They have just too much fun with them.

Mom Things: After a Too-Long Hiatus

You love the irony of your three year old rubbing your newborn's face while gently calling her "Chunky Girl", all the while this three year old is covered in chocolate.

You've discovered the secret to easy bedtime - late-night Bible reading.

After listening to The Easter Story on CD, your two year old retained some important bits of information:
~"Jesus crashed the tables!!!"
(Then Jesus went into the temple of God and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves.)
~"He was naked!  And he wanted a drink!"  (For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.)
Unfortunately, those were not exactly the parts we need her to remember (and subsequently emulate).  And yet, we're not surprised those are the parts that stuck out for her.

You feel guilty when it's time to cut the backyard because, to your girls, those 18" tall dandelions are beautiful wildflowers.

After taking photos on Easter morning, aside from the more important task of capturing memories for posterity, you notice that you have passed your poke-your-booty-and-belly-out posture to your eldest...if things like "posture" are hereditary, that is.  Poor kid.

Immediately after returning home at 1am from a return-from-Maryland-trip during which Ben and Abby spent 13 hours bickering and agitating each other in the backseat, they both climbed into Abby's top bunk to continue their slumber.  Go figure.

One of the best things about having a newborn?  Getting to dress them in potato sacks.

For some reason your two year old thinks that the mere sound of you turning on the shower is an invitation for her to join you.

While playing Life with the oldest three kids - everyone opted to go to college except the two year old whose career ended up as "Entertainer."  Meanwhile, your college-going son chose to protect his fellow citizens and become a police officer only to be dissatisfied with his paycheck.  Somehow this seems all too prophetic. 

You've heard about people climbing walls, but you didn't realize until you had kids that it was literal.
 

You should have known better than to leave an entire pan of delightful ice cream treat on the counter when you re-entered the room and found your two year old helping herself with the serving spoon.  (At least the little bowl indicates she had intentions of portioning herself out some, only to decide it was better this way.)

If ever you take your eyes off of your poor, bald newborn and take a look back, you find her being constantly adorned (against her will, I might add) with hair accessories thanks to her fashion-conscious older sisters.

 

Hope you all had a wonderful Easter!  

 

Mom Things with the 3 who aren't currently a literal pain in my back

I listened to Sarah playing with an alligator and rooster bath toy as she simulated a very heated argument between the two over which one likes Tinkerbell.  Apparently Tinkerbell can not be liked by more than one bath toy at a time.  There was yelling involved.  That alligator and rooster were serious about it.

While putting lotion on my feet, Abby asked, "Do you wish I could do this yesterday too?  I could do it every day."  The answer is a decided "yes."  Abby, you can do that any day and any time you feel so inclined.

After discussing with Ben that one of his classmate's grandmothers is in my small group for Bible study, I made the comment that it's a "small world."  Abby chimed in, "You know what the biggest world is? (dramatic pause)  NEW YORK."  (How does she know that?)

Ben took third place in the Pinewood Derby Race for the 1-3 grade category.  The best part?  His elated, "overly demonstrative" reaction to the major award.

On any given night, bedtime looks the same all around our house...

A quarter of a mile from school, Abby realized she didn't put clean underwear on when she got dressed.  She told me it would be okay because she'd change them when she got home.  After all, she and Sarah change their underwear when they play dress up.  I commented back, "Yeah, I know.  Then you leave it all over your closet floor, and I don't know what's clean and what's dirty."  To which she cocked her head, smiled, and sweetly said, "Mommy, you're very smart.  I think you can figure it out."

Abby: Can I brush my teeth now?
Me: You never have to ask permission to brush your teeth, Abby. You can brush them anytime you want.
Ben: (seeing an opportunity) Can I brush mine tomorrow?
No, Ben. No.

Sarah can spend 2.5 hours in someone else's care including outside time on the dangerous playground without sustaining injury, but after spending 3 minutes in a sub shop with me, she leaves with a bloody, gashed eyebrow.

Of course, it didn't stop her band-aided self from jumping off the coffee table repeatedly and with gusto that very same evening.  (And soon she got her otherwise innocent big sister involved.)

You watched the sweet sisters enjoy a snack of mini-tootsie roll pops, but only after they clinked them together and boisterously proclaimed, "Cheers!"

Sarah handed a masterpiece to Sam and said, "Here Daddy.  I made this for you.  It's a roller coaster."  Scariest roller coaster EVER.

State of the Mom-ion

You absolutely love seeing your precious girls walk side-by-side to their room with their arms around each others' waists when Abby gets home from school, as if they waited all day long just to play together.

One of their favorite games is for Sarah to be the puppy and Abby to be the "master".   When Abby tells the puppy to "Go to your cave", she listens.  If only I wielded that kind of power over the little pup.

While unloading the dishwasher with her little sister your five year old started chanting "Unc-uh-see-us", as if it meant something.  When I inquired as to the meaning she said, "It means I'm doing all of the work by myself....in Spanish."

When your eight year old checked out seven ginormous non-fiction books from the library you were filled with mixed emotions.  It's awesome, but at the same time, this means you are subject to an endless stream of facts from books like Science Year by Year and Weird but True.

Your two year old got the ball rolling as the carrier of the winter cough this year.  As soon as she got over it, the other two kids contracted it.  The problem is, she still wants in on the medicine action.  You're praying she just likes the flavor and this is not indicative of any future drug problems.

As your eight year old watched your husband masterfully jump, slide, and fly Mario through one of the Super Mario Wii worlds, he commented at the end, "Wow.  That was lucky."  Completely diminishing any and all skill involved.  Hahahahaha.

When you look at this picture, you see lots of things:  the love between two hands-on sisters, the dresses that they procured from the top bar of the closet (how they accomplished that, you don't even want to know), the toys scattered haphazardly about the playroom floor in a show of unbridled kid-joy, and the remote for your bedroom tv on the princess chair.  So that's where that's been.

 

You hear some cabinets in the kitchen and, of course, this is what you find.  Two sisters, hand-in-hand, standing on the kitchen counter.

Just look at that guilty, backwards look by the little one -

(Oh yeah, I'm "celebrating" their independence and the fact that they now have no excuse for not helping me put the dishes up.)

Just another day in Momadise.

Your eight year old turns his room into a veritable pantheon of projects after Christmas.  And it's occupying his time so well, you can't even bear to tell him to clean it up.

Your two year old repeatedly calls you "Jesuit".  Maybe not exactly, but it sure sounded like it.  All you can think is this a slightly more sophisticated racial slur referring to your excessive frugality.  Even your two year old makes fun of you for being cheap.

You didn't think about the implications of washing a Cinderella princess dress in the regular laundry.  And then, your whole family's wardrobe was glitter-fied.

It's a bit of an understatement to say that your kids are not "morning people".  (Yes, they really are asleep like that on the couch.)

An hour after you put your two year old down for bed, she emerged from her room, footies in disarray with a pronouncement, "I need go potty."  Pretty awesome considering you haven't even touched night-time training.

Your two year old spends the better part of her day in her older sister's closet assembling new outfits.  Her fashion sense is other-worldly.  (Although, her ensembles are still probably better than her mom's full-body-red maternity outfits....even with the socks and sandals on the wrong feet.)

And let's not overlook the "extremely safe" idea the middle child had to sit on the fireplace in a stroller meant for baby dolls. Don't think for a second the two year old didn't try at least twice to push her down during the taking of this snapshot.

When the two year old emerged after breakfast this morning wearing this get-up, your five year old took one look at her, gasped, and said, "Sarah!  You looked wonderful!!!"  I guess this is all the encouragement she needs to change outfits 482 times daily.

You cannot say it enough, but the friendship between your girls has made every frustration of parenting completely worth it.

Once again, you "relish" your two year old's independence when she brings a gallon of milk off the top shelf of the fridge to you in the living room for a refill.

You told your five year old after school that she could either clean her room or take a nap, knowing full well she wouldn't choose the nap.  Five minutes later, you checked on her because you heard some serious snoring from down the hall...  Next time you tell her to clean her room at 4:30pm, you'll consider a different alternative choice.

After 2+ hours of "TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP" on our tile floors, you're absolutely certain the gift of the princess shoe collection was a mistake.

You make garlic toast with your five year old.  You made a deal - she buttered, you sprinkled the garlic powder.  On the last piece, as you waited for her to finish buttering you turned away to do....something.  And when you turned back, she had taken garlic powder-ing into her own hands.  First item on the next shopping list?  Garlic Powder.

How to know you're a mom: Christmas Edition

You are considering leaving the nativity scene out all year.  It would serve as a great reminder, of course, but it's also your two year old's new favorite toy.

The fact that your eight year old son said to you, "I had to borrow your Bible because I can't find mine.  I got to Genesis chapter 8." was not prompted or out of compulsion, but simply because he wants to read through the Bible means more than words can express.

Your favorite outfit (which is, coincidentally, one of the only ones that fits well) right now is a lime green t-shirt and red yoga pants.  You justify wearing it everywhere by saying it's your Christmas outfit.  Red and green, right?

Every time you look at the Christmas tree, you are reminded that the kids decorated it 95% of the way without help.  You notice because of the solitary branches containing a dozen unique ornaments clinging on for dear life.  And the major victory is that you left them that way.  That is part of the fun of decorating a tree at Christmas.

The highlight of Christmas 2011 might indeed be watching your sweater-clad eight year old as he stood up in front of a classroom full of young married families in Sunday School and read the Christmas story to a rug-full of children.  He's just a little old man in a bigger-than-eight-year-old body.

During your most recent trip to Callaway Garden's Fantasy in Lights as you sat on the beach and watched the light shows of both the actual Christmas story and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, your ornery two year old loudly declared, "I don't like baby Jesus.  I don't like Santa."  So, Daddy asked, "Who do you like?"  Without a moment's hesitation, she replied, "I like Big Bird."

You have no interest in correcting the inventive lyrics of your girls as they belt out, at the top of their lungs, without inhibition [non]traditional Christmas tunes:

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All the Way, How much fun in history to ride on open sleigh, Hey!

Frosty the snowman had a very happy soul and two eyes made out of snow and 4-top button nose!  Frosty the snowman had a very happy soul.  The children know he came to life one day!

Frosty the Snowman was a very happy snow!

While your two year old "napped", your five year old helped you decorate sugar cookies.  Long story short, in the time it took you to answer one phone call your entire supply of sprinkles was depleted.  

You attended your kids' Christmas parties wearing flip-flops...because you could.  And you were really bummed about that.  Christmas just ain't Christmas without...temperatures less than 50.  (Shoot, I'd take less than 70.)

This year's Christmas-picture-taking session went better than year's past and provided the most fantastic outtakes shots.  Though you dread the act of doing it every single year, you never regret the process when all is said and done.

There's the one where the photographer's helper (Daddy) tries to capture the subjects' attention by chucking pinecones at them:

T

The one where the photographers helper made "tooting" noises much to the chagrin of the man meditating quietly by the pond, but to the riotous delight of three camera subjects: 9125

The one where they all forgot to drink their V8 (remember those commercials?):

The one where the youngest child is clearly put out about something:

The contender for awkward family photo during which your two year old bounces on your five and eight year old like a bucking bronco:

At least there are always a few that are just awesome.  Those can be my Christmas present to you, dear blog followers.  And since it's not Christmas yet...you'll just have to wait.

Random Mom Things - Aren't They All?

For some reason your five year old randomly telling your eight year old, "Ben, you are up for the challenge!" is enough to send him into a fit of rage (because "That doesn't make any sense!!!").  Of course, this is now one of her favorite things to say to him...repeatedly.

Halfway through dinner your youngest daughter stands up and sings a top-of-the-lungs medley of "Jesus Loves Me", "Mary Had a Little Lamb", and other un-discernible lyrics all mixed together.  It was enough to entice big sister to join in the singing festivities.  Who would have guessed that steak sub night would turn into "Showtime at the Kitchen Table"?

You now know that shopping online for pre-Black Friday deals for your son whilst baking is not the best idea.  After an emergency trip to Publix for more eggs, your pumpkin roll is 100% better, or at least, less burnt this go round.

The likelihood of a poop catastrophe is inversely proportional to how late you are running to get somewhere.

Your two year old calls it "Mitch".  Your five year old calls it "The Griddle".  You and the rest of the world know it as "The Grinch"...and even though it's only November 30th, you've watched it at least two dozen times already.  During one viewing, your five year old quipped, "I don't think he likes Halloween or Thanksgiving either."

That loud boom you heard in the foyer was your two year old's forehead hitting the corner of a column.  If they ever remake Scarface, you're totally going to make her audition for the role.

Your "favorite" part is the perfect outline of a bandaid rash that showed up overnight while you were trying to control the bleeding.  Apparently she's allergic to those.  Like her mother.

Last year for Christmas your mother-in-law gave you a super cool advent calendar.  When you unpacked it this year, your two year old ripped two doorknobs off the tiny doors before you even had a chance to fill it with activities.  Maybe she thinks they're actual doorknobs and need to be twisted.

To make the story even better, she left one of these tiny doorknobs on your floor, which you immediately vacuumed up without knowing.  This provided you with 30 minutes of fun digging through vaccum cleaner waste products which all-too-closely resembled  those owl pellets you dissected in middle school.

Good news though - you found it.  Plus a Box Top for the school collection which starts tomorrow.  Hello 10cents for the elementary school.  (I bet they'll really appreciate that one.  At least you got all of the hair off of it...)

This concludes 30 days of National Blog Posting Month.  I'm guessing my posts will be fewer and farther between in the month of December (you're welcome).  But then again, maybe not.  I'm becoming spontaneous in my old age.

Gobble, gobble! Thankful for some mo' Mom Things

I had whole-hearted intentions of doing a proper "edition" (if you will) of Mom Things tonight.  Turns out, I'm tired, and four days behind on my Bible study homework, and I still haven't made that banana bread that I swore I was going to make for a bereaved friend in my small group.  So what you're going to get, is an abbreviated version.  My blog, I make the rules.  Which is so dumb because who needs rules on a blog anyway?  Only Type-A's create rules for themselves. 

So - some How to Know You're a Mom stuff:

You watch your two year old wedge herself between the safety fencing and the giant tube slide in the Chick-Fil-A playground, and you only rescue her when she starts to panic.  Amid riotous laughter between you & your husband and your daughter crying out, "I stuck!!!!", you make quite a spectacle of yourselves as you try to un-wedge her from the tight spot.  It's uncannily reminiscent of Winnie-the-Pooh stuck in the hole into Rabbit's home.  Eventually, you manage to pull her out - for her to run off with a giggle and, you swear, a fist-pump of victory.  (If only you'd had the camera....)

As you emerged victorious from the play area, other moms in the restaurant reacted to the riotous laughter you enjoyed at your daughter's expense with mixed reviews.  You got a few "Love the sense of humor!" votes and a few "I can't believe you just laughed at your helpless, stuck child" looks.  Quite seriously, I'm not sure what kind of mom makes it without a sense of humor.

You watch with a hint of amusement as your wily five year old girl attempts to teach a neighborhood boy how to climb the piddly tree in your front yard.  When asked repeatedly "How do you do that?" by the boy, and after showing him exactly how about a half a dozen times, she finally replied with a sigh, "I'm just good at it."

You can't get into or out of your kids' elementary school without your two-year-old having to love on the giant lion in the lobby.  Seriously, look at her go.  Eyes closed and finger in her belly-button.  That is pure bliss.

Your kids have taken up yard work as a hobby without any prompting whatsoever.  They even work great as a team...except when there are two girls and only one mini-wheelbarrow.

You thought putting your tow-headed five year old in a braid might bring out her inner Pocahontas, but there's really nothing you can do to make this child even remotely pass for a Native American.  Not even the headdress and animal-skin dress help.

Gobble, gobble!  (And I'll see you tomorrow.)