Genius

Kids learning language are amazing. I know I've said it before, and the redundancy of that is probably boring you to tears. Oh well. I'm a mom amazed by my kids. Sorry. :D

Here's a little conversation I just had with KJ. I am trying to hurry them up and out the door. (So why and I taking the time to write this, you may ask? Well, because if I don't now it won't happen.)

KJ: Mom, can I take this sandwich with me in the car?
Me: Yes
KJ: Will it be like a picnic in the car?
Me: Yes, kinda.
KJ: Oh, Mom. You're so genius.
Me: (In my head) Man I love it when she says that, even if she has no idea what it means.
KJ: Genius means smart and kind.

Well. I'll be darned. Hmph.

Stellan's Not Me Monday Tribute

Today's Not Me Monday is a little different. It is in honor of Stellan who is battling for life. Lord, please keep him tightly wrapped in your arms. And if I may be so bold as to "selfishly" ask, this side of heaven, please.

And if you'd like to join in this week, Mrs. Cline is hosting the Mr. Linky on her site.

• I have not been checking Blogger every 2 hrs, for the last week, for updates on Stellan.
• I did not come home after a night out with a friend, and check Blogger at 12:30 pm.
• My husband did not join me in reading her latest post, speechless, at what she was writing, and that she could write. He did not say "How can she even write about this stuff?" He did not read one more sentance that read "his mother is trying hard to keep from being a sobbing, wretched mess in front of him" and then did not let out a very quiet "Oh."
• I did not get awakened by the Lord at 5:30 am, desperately and unsuccessfully try to fall back to sleep, and then just give up at 6:15 after getting a bottle for the baby. I did not spend the next hour+ praying and crying for MckMuffin and his MckFamily.
• I am not having a hard time typing this thru tears.
• I have not had them prayerfully on my mind all day thus far.
• My husband did not thank my infant son at lunch (who's 8 months old) for not having SVT or any other S or V or T. This obviously shows that this is not on his mind, too.
• I am not struggling with understanding how God works in situations like this, or how it could be loving, how it's not fair.
• I am not being selfish in hoping that God never tests me like this.
• This has most certainly NOT affected my being thankful for my children.
• I am not thankful to hear of his improvements, yet scared to death (for MckMama) of the possibilities.
• This song has not been on my mind all day:

Thank you for reading. Please take a moment and pray. It never hurts.

GASP!

I'm not sure I'm ready. I mean, for the growing up.

Of coarse I look forward to the day when my children can all effectively wipe their own booties, cross the street safely by themselves, and go to school for hours on end leaving me all alone in my house (O glory). But at the same time, k n o w i n g for sure that I will be having no more babies, seeing the last two come out of that babyness, makes me a little sad. I always thought that was kind of silly. I think I'm being a little silly this week.

First, Lil' D got some teeth. We were out to eat after church and daddy just happened to put his finger in there to check how things were going. Low and behold, a tooth was just popping thru. That was a week and a half ago. Now there's two.

He can also sit up on his own for a bit, propell himself forward (not just backward) in his walker, ate a cracker for the first time (his first "real" food), and... the real slug to my heart... yesterday morning I caught him doing the army crawl in an attempt to get a ball.

A crawl ???? No, no no no no no no no. Not y e e e e e e t! I'm not ready to give up my infant. That's the part I really like, and though the thought of being a baby factory (and then handing them off after one year to other deserving wanna-be parents) is tempting, it probably won't be happening. Which means............ my baby days are very short and very numbered.

Sob. sniffle. snot snot. sigh.

Then, if all the stuff my Cheeks comes up with in her verbal explosion doesn't knock your socks off, well... Then her telling me, very slowly, very carefully enunciated, that she is not a baby any more (her exact words, ones I have never spoken to her before), that's gonna send me off the edge.

And yesterday, when I asked her what she was doing, she answered, "Stuff." (Where do they come up with these things!!??)

As it is, I've been watching her become more of a big girl and less of a baby. As she runs around completely naked all day long, I see her tummy becoming less baby-round, and her shape becoming more girly (whereas KJ came out very girly). Her climbing skills are reaching new heights, literally. I hear her say things that express her very individual thought and will. She desperately wants to be outside with the big kids, running in the park and riding her bike around. Frolicking in the beautiful golden sun (or rain, as we've had it this week).

Yesterday, while it was pouring outside, all 3 kids decided they'd have enough of inside time, got all dressed in mud boots and rain jackets and hoods, and headed outside. It was a sight to see. KJ had her pink umbrella (because what other color is there for a little girl), Cheeks was on a little push bike/car thing we have, and B-boy was puddle jumping. Just as I was getting my camera to capture the moment, I hear a sad but loud cry from Miss Cheeks. And this is what I found. I guess she fell out of her boots, somehow. And it did not fare well for her. I found her shoeless, traversing the muddy, cold sidewalk, barefoot. And crying. And covered in mud. Poor thing.

See her looking forlornly. She just wants to be out in it.

Ha. And her favorite saying is, "Bane did it." Where does she get that, I wonder!

I just can't handle it. All this growing.

Oh, I can. But I really am feeling nostalgic about this in a way I have not experienced before. I never considered myself to be one of the types who cried upon sending their child of to their first day of Kindergarten. I thought I would be relieved. But I'm rethinking that. I may possibly end up shedding a tear or two. And if not for the first, then surely for the last. Because I do love my baby. I love that he's a baby, and in some admittedly sick way, despite the trama to myself and the worries it all caused, I kind of liked the fact that he stayed so little for a little longer than is safe due to his eating struggles. Not that I liked the lack of weight gain or the very unsatisfied baby. But he was so little and lovely. Can't they just stay like that for a couple years? I mean, have that first year stretched out to two?

I really have a hard time understanding people who don't like the infancy phase. Can you tell? But I've also had really good babies. No colic, no major health issues, no real problems of any sort. God is good.

And I say that knowing God really IS good. Good to me. And I am blessed. Despite all my moaning and groaning about how they are driving me crazy. Because there are people out there who have stories that break my heart, who have children who never saw this side of life, or who may very well leave it soon. Or not. I weep for them, and then relievedly count my blessings.

Have you counted your blessings today? Have you hugged your children, spouse, mother, brother? Don't delay.

Fun. with video.

Life's simple pleasures.

Due to the birthdays that have filled our calendar of late, and the plethora of balloons to go along with them, balloons are all over my house. Some are in the process of dying. Others are hanging on strong. This little monkey could sit and play with them for a very long time.

It's also important to note the fever with which he pumps his chubby little arms and legs. It's like that most of the time. He's itching to get moving... I'm not.

Please pardon the mess and screaming in the background. That is fairly typical, however.

Green is a happy color.

Totally unrelated to a previous "green" post.

I woke up and decided everyone needed to wear green (except Lil'D since he was already dressed). Not that we are Irish. We aren't. (at least I'm not and I don't think my kids are. Hmmm, will have to ask about that. I digresss.) But green is a happy, lively yet calming color. And I needed some, happy, lively, calm. Plus, St. Patty's day was a grand excuse.

I decided we were going to be happy and silly and have fun and fresh air. It was park time.

All children donned mud boots, I grabbed the camera hoping for some practice, and we were off, minus a quick stop for Shamrock Shakes. mmm...

Cheeks on swings.

KJ happy. At least, until mommy accidentally puller her off the swing

and she landed on her butt in a mud puddle. Oops.

Lil' D. Just happy someone was giving him some attention.

And he doesn't even mind a big sister's sweatshirt.

B-boy climbing and goofing. Not wanting his pic taken.

All my monkeys. If there's something to climb, they're there.

Hello, goats.

And boy am I glad I made them wear mud boots. Uffda.

Monday it is.

It's time to get back to my normal self. This may or may not include regular or not Monday postings of my madness, that which surrounds me and makes me crazy like Jack Nicholson. Those times when no one in their RIGHT mind would ever admit to anything of the sort that gets posted here, and certainly not publicly, as in, to the whole world or those who actually stop here and choose to read my blather.

Please feel free to check out MckMama's mutterings about the tales with her 4 children, and all the other linky's.

*We have NOT had a week of haircutting adventures. We did not start off with KJ playing beautician while her sister sat on the throne.

*I did NOT take an entire week before I cleaned up the mess, because, frankly, you couldn't see it after the main chunks were picked up.

*I don't like the word "ugly" but my daughter KJ has discovered this new vocabulary word. Since we were not talking about her, I did NOT decide that it would be okay to use this word while describing what the result of home haircuts is.

*I was NOT correct in my assumption that it would make a statement, and am NOT desperately hoping that this puts an end to the hair-cutting business in my home.

I did NOT have another opportunity to pull out my own hair yesterday when I discovered that Cheeks did NOT find my hair-cutting scissors, some 6 months lost, and did NOT take the opportunity to cut her own hair, further worsening previous damage. I did NOT (in hindsight) consider the fact that she also needed to have been in on some strict lesson learning. My options with her are NOT either a pixie or buzz cut, and I am NOT fearful that if I did that, she would just cut her hair even shorter. (Shorter than a pixie cut? Yes, bad imagery.) So, I did NOT decide that she'll just have to live with this whack job of a haircut and let it just grow out, as she's only two, afterall.

I did NOT have the opportunity to clean poop somehow dribbled down my son's leg by his little sister. I did NOT just have to laugh at the whole situation. The rug is NOT still there covering up anything I may have missed. I did NOT discover the affected jeans last night, still in the laundry basket.

I did NOT cancel a playdate at my house today because of being sick, with the biggest deal cincher being that I don't want to clean up this. (see right)

(Just keepin' it real, folks. Shamefully real.) I would be more concerned about the health of others than what impression I may or may not make by having a semi messy house.

The above pic of Cheeks new do does NOT also tell the tale of other mischief she has gotten into. This morning. In 5 minutes. (the mascara, the mysterious blue substance ??toothpaste?? above her lips). I do NOT feel like I am in a race to catch her and keep her from further naughtiness, more than half the day. I do NOT know that her baby brother is an up-and-comer in this mischief business, and have NOT already come to the conclusion that he, and his mischief, may be the death of me. I do NOT love him more than anything, and am NOT totally enjoying his sweetness while it lasts, knowing the day will come when I want to hang him from a tree by his toes. How could you NOT love this:

Happy Monday.

Green. *smiles*

Sometimes the ONLY thing to do is laugh. Really. Cuz the options are cry or scream. And since my nephew is here, I'll spare him that terror.

I'll also spare you photos. Really, you'll thank me later. And be happy you're not here to share the other lovely characteristics of today's activities.

I'm sure I have lost my mind. That is undeniable, currently. My sweet Cheeks is running me ragged with her 2-yr-old energy and hyper-curiosity. For her, it's a race, from the time she wakes to the time she sleeps, some 12 hours later, to see just how much she can get into. This naughtiness also increases in speed (for all of them, not just wee Cheeks) from around 6 pm until bedtime at 8:30. I lock the cupboards, but she can open the fridge. Sometimes I forget to lock the cupboards, or her siblings open them, and therefore she enters. She has wiggled her fingers between the child locks on a pantry cupboard I have that houses random things like extra baking supplies, crayons / markers, stickers, food coloring, little candy balls used in cake decorating (that are now all over the floor in there). Things I don't want her getting into. She loves to play with baby formula. She likes to eat raisins and crackers, leaving trails of raisins and crackers. She also is quite adept at climbing / scaling everything. Wheels on it? Who cares. Infant child in that walker seat? No prob, she'll have a soft landing then. Yesterday I decided to allow her to "wash dishes" thinking that this planned activity would help slow her. Nope. Just gave her permission to wash dishes any time she wants, leaving huge puddles on my floor.

All this to say, she has worn. me. out. So apparently my judgement is a bit lacking when I promised my son that we would invite his cousin to come to OUR house to play while daddy was at work (so that daddy would not be bothered by it all), because cousin jr is sick, so we can't go there and play. sigh.

I did not know many things that would happen. I did not know that my children would increase their speed even more than normal last night before bed, so that I was ready to pass out at 9:30. But a mother's work is never done, so I kept going for another hour, making sure my seriously crabby-because-he's-trying-to-quit-smoking hubby had all his favorite work clothes clean.

I did not know that Sid the Science Kid, bless his cute little intelligent soul, would talk about composting today. This kind of thing tende to get B-Boy charged, and so he decided to make his own compost pile, by dumping all our puzzles, his cars, mega blocks, "beer cans", fish, balls, doll clothes, a Barbie or two, shape sorting blocks and some other random things, all in a big pile, covering a heat vent, in front of the door. I explained to him mid-compost that he would have to pick this all up when done. He just scowled and kept on composting. Later, upon realizing the placement of his pile, I told him to clean it up because we couldn't have it covering the vent or the door. So he moved it, across the room.

hmmmm. Not exaaactly what I was thinking.

Later, I thought, it's probably time to go get Cousin M, but first "Let's pick up the toys!" :D :D Not met with much enthusiasm. I mistakenly thought Cousin M coming would be a motivator. Silly me. I did still make THEM pick it up.

Cousin M was met with hugs and shouts. All is great. They are playing nicely, albeit tearing down all the toys, but that's to be expected. Suddenly, I hear shouts of "Cheeks pooped!" And in she runs, poop trails down one leg, followed closely behind by her brother who mysteriously has poop all down the front of his left pant leg, and on his sock. Now, I can't imagine any scenario where he would do this to himself, and there wasn't enough time for him to have not known it was there. Nor do I imagine he was pretending he was a snake and slithered in it. Lordy. Oh, and did I mention that I'm kinda attempting to potty train Cheeks, or she's trying to potty train herself, one or the other, but she chooses to run around b'naked all. day. long. I now remember the error in this.

We get the poopy leg/foot on Cheeks cleaned up so she's not trailing it around. B-Boy gets his pants and sock off. Now, to find the rest of the mess.

Imagine my surprise when I find the rest of it on the carpet in the addition. I'm not sad about the carpet, except that it makes it more difficult to clean up. The carpet is just to cover the plywood floor as we have not finished this room yet. That carpet needs to go soon. Reeeaaalll soon.

I begin cleaning. Now, not to be gross, but this is important. Remember me telling you Cheeks likes to eat raisins? I'm SURE I do not need to explain what happens to raisins in the digestive system of small children. I'm cleaning them of a coffee table (????) and the floor, all with an audience of small children, who are also discussing the action, the appearance, and the smell. The word "poop" is repeated a record number of times. Cheeks keeps repeating "I poop. I poop." Yes, dear, you did. I laugh. That's my choice. Then she says, "pooooop. greeeeen."

Aw. We're learing our colors.

I laugh some more.

Then I throw a rug over the wet spot.

31 minutes and a protrusion

What? 10 Followers? When did I get ten followers? uh, and my last post was... when? Feb 9th? And today is March 9th? Boy, am I ever letting my faithful fans down or what! Jeepers. Somebody light a fire under my booty! Ok... 31 mins left. Think I can whip something up? Lemme see.... hmmm...

I do have lots of birthday posting to do, but I want to do it all in succession so I'll save that for another day when I have more than 29 remaining minutes.

Ahhhh... speaking of booty, here's my lovely daughter with her own sillyness, ahem, extending from her. Here, Miss KJ shows us how bootyliscious she is.

O boy, o boy. Fun one, this one. And it's only going to get more "fun." Daddy, where's that shotgun?

And speaking of fun, several weeks ago my friend, who's getting ready to move (closer, yippee!) was beginning to clean out some closets and storage spaces, and came upon some things she thought my children might like. So she sent it to us. It was a surprise box full of stickers and tattoos and foamy stickers, ribbon, streamers, envelopes, and some of those puffball things. We had great fun stickering every surface while mommy frantically tried to remind everyone "on the paper only." We also used many of these things to make Valentines cards for my aunt (who loved them, albeit late) and my mom (who sadly never received hers). And there will be may more lovely moments of creativity for the things of the box... Such as this. God help me now.

Do you SEE that? Those little "puff balls" protruding? (And yes, this is a recent pic despite the summer attire. The girls have found a new activity: making mommy really crazy by getting into, dragging out, making a royal mess, and undoing all her hours of work, by playing with clothes that were in storage. sigh. Why do I even try.) This (the puffballs) just gives me a glimpse in to the future, the joys and challenges of raising a beautiful, sweet daughter who loves to be beautiful. And just how big a stick daddy's gonna need to fight off all those boys.

I'll try not to be gone so long. Though, if you would, you could always say a prayer for me and the slump I've been in.

See you soon!

p.s., I made it! 11:59!

Post note: I know it doesn't look like it takes that long to write this stuff, but it does.