I have been awake since 3:56 am when Henry screamed bloody murder from his crib. I ran in there, hoping he wouldn't wake the whole house, and I still don't know what was wrong. I changed his diaper and held him as I patted his back. He went right back down, but I am AWAKE.
It has been a long and hard couple of days with the Overlease children, and I haven't been able to find time to write. My "to do" list has been too long to allow for writing. I went to bed at 11 pm with clean laundry all over the living room...unfolded and folded. I stayed up late to work on a "Julie shirt" (as the Finlason girls call my creations) for the little Lucy who started this blog. Rather, Evelyn chopping off Lucy's long locks while playing salon back in May started this blog. At any rate I really like Lucy and her mother, and I decided to make her a cute little shirt for her birthday party today. I think they'll like it. Ev gets to attend a princess party.
Okay, so a couple of days ago I decided to spend the morning playing Academy de Julia, aka Mommy School, with my kids. The blueberries were a steal at the store, my kids' favorite, so the math/science cooking lesson involved making Lemon-Blueberry Muffins with Lemon Glaze. This is the recipe which the girls used to win 3rd place in the Holy Smokes Kids Bake-Off this summer. They are goooood muffins. Right from the start the girls absolutely would not stop fighting. They argued about who was going to do each and every task to "help" me. "I want to crack that egg." "It is my turn to dump the measuring cup." "Move, you're crowding me!" "Let me hold the mixer," and on and on and on it went until Henry entered the picture. We put an Elmo library DVD on for Henry, and he entertained himself by crawling on the couch cushions and pushing cars around the floor for a spell. However, it took him all of about 10 seconds to climb up onto the chairs with his sisters and wield the longest and most ominous looking knife from the knife block. Olivia screamed. I looked up from my recipe and about died. Evelyn tried to get away, and Henry pointed the knife away from himself with his arm straight out in front of him. Seriously?! Olivia yelled, "Henry almost killed me!" I took the knife and explained, "NO, NO, NO!! Knives can hurt Henry." We all survived, including Vivian. She was being held in my Hotsling during all of this. She sucks her thumb, plays with her toes, and takes in all of the entertainment. There is a lot of entertainment around here. If you're bored, then have four small children. That will cure you.
The muffins were super yummy (See Henry as proof.), and we followed our baking with reading time. Evelyn had gotten into a string of trouble. I removed her from her time-out spot and put her on my lap on the couch with the other children for a story. We're getting ready for preschool, so I pointed to the first letter of the title to indicate that I wished for her to state the letter. She was mad and pouty, an unfortunate and common theme as of late. She protested. I persisted. Finally, she started loudly naming off the letters in a story entitled, "Mama Loves You." How ironic. Her voice was cranky, and she shot each letter at me. God help me.
Gym, as Olivia calls P.E., was the most fun. We turned on the iPod and rocked out to songs from the Lambda Chi Alpha party songs playlist that Robbie made for us. Henry got to do his back and forth shoulder dance to YMCA. We jumped and jumped and jumped to Jump Around. The girls each said, "I'm getting sweaty." Olivia asked me why my boobs bounce when I jump. Oh, gosh. What's a nursing mom to say? We burned some steam, laughed a lot, and had fun. While I showered, Vivian napped, and Henry got his sometimes daily dose of Barney ABCs, the girls played Store. They shopped for fake food and DVDs, placed the items in a miniature and real metal shopping cart, itemized and priced them on a list, and used a cash register to ring the total. This activity brought with it a fair amount of screaming on Evelyn's part, but they had to work it out themselves. They played tag at recess and ate a picnic outside for lunch. The relief of naptime is always welcome in our house. Olivia and I snuggled up on the couch and each read our respective chapter books together. I loved it. The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton is really, really fun to read. I recommend it, and I hope to complete it today.
Yesterday the fighting began again, and I couldn't take it. The thought actually went through my head, "I am going to go nuts. Robbie has to come home right now! Wait, Robbie is in Sedalia. I'm stuck alone with them. Ahhhhhhh!" I think that crossed my mind around 8 am. My solution was to kick everybody out of the house. I told Olivia and Evelyn to put on their running shoes. I packed water for all. I strapped Vivian to my chest, and we went outside for a walk. Our walks always refresh our bodies and MY mind. The girls were both on foot, which was a first. I told them how I carried Olivia every morning of her first summer in Milwaukee seven years ago. Now she's a walking and talking school girl, and I welcome the walking company and companionship. So special. I often imagine the days ahead when I walk with my daughters and listen to their thoughts on life and love. They aren't far away.
The morning was beautiful...lovely sky, gentle breeze, and a slight break from the heat of summer. However, the cicadas were humming. They are humming now, and I can hear them while I'm writing in my basement at 5:20 am. All was well until the girls noticed them about a mile from home. Our route is 3+ miles, mind you. I explained how the cicadas leave behind a shell. Olivia related it to snakes shedding skin. We talked about molting. This was fine until we saw a live one. Then we heard it vibrate its wings. Then we came upon a handful of shells in a single sidewalk square. Evelyn froze and ended up 10 feet behind us. She threw her body onto her toes with her arms in the air Michael Jackson style, and began to whimper. I went to her, held her hand, and helped her navigate through the cicada shell laden path. Olivia then began to notice that the shells her EV-ER-Y-WHERE...no joke. She flipped out. She cried. She screamed. She asked me to carrry her. She really did. Her face showed utter terror, and I couldn't rationalize with her. "The shells are empty. Nothing will hurt you. I'll hold your hand. Please stop screaming. You're scaring Vivian." She freaked out for the duration of the three longest blocks of my life, and there were cicada shells everywhere. It was so gross and thick in some places that it was hard to step without crunching one, and my stroller wheels could not always avoid them. A passerby on foot stared at us, and I simply smiled and responded, "Cicada terror. What can I say?" Evelyn was pretty good through all of this. She was nervous, but she rose to the occasion. I was impressed. I never liked those locust shells as a kid either, but I don't recall going stark raving mad over them like Olivia did. I was so grateful when my attempt at distraction worked, and we played I Spy the rest of the way home. What a journey.
Henry is doing really well on the potty. Don't be fooled by the photos. I promise he wears shorts when we leave the house. His current obsession is Cars shoes. My friend threw them in a bag of hand me down dresses that she was loaning for Vivian, and Henry found them. He loves them. However, he complains they they are too tight. They are larger than his current size and can't be loosened, so this creates drama. He woke up from his nap while I was out of the house with Olivia yesterday, and Robbie said Henry said, "I want my car shoes," over and over and over ad nauseam until I returned and located them. I tell him that he has to wear his shoe store shoes when we leave the house. He asked to hold his Cars Shoes in his carseat and later in the stroller in the optical store. Henry removed both nose pieces from my frames, bent them, and the man broke the hinge off the temple while adjusting it Thursday. That's another sorrow. Anyway, back to potty training, Henry drinks enough during the day that he can practically pee at will for M&Ms. I'm running with it. Robbie will just be happier once his son stops calling his underwear "baseball panties." Oh, the joy of two older sisters. Poor Henry.
And...Vivian calls.
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