"I'm not raising a clean house."

Pics:

The various looks of Henry.

Vivian can wave, and Henry is Spiderman.

Vivian wore a real hair bow for the first time on Sunday and again Monday.

This morning we went to playgroup at the home of a new friend. Her son is Henry's age. Her other son was Evelyn's age, but he died last December. This fact gives me great pause. As we got ready to go, I asked her what we could do to help clean up the toys. She told me she wasn't worried about it. "I'm not raising a clean house. I'm raising a little boy. It's fine." I like her philosophy, and I realize that she has reached it from a point from which few mothers come. I like this lady.

When I put Vivian to bed last night Henry asked to kiss her. Baby girl opened her mouth and gave Henry a big kiss on his cheek. He looked totally disgusted and downright appalled. He said, "She got me WET." He leaned down and wiped his slobbery cheek on his crib bumber. Vivian then kissed Olivia and Evelyn in the same manner, only they found it hilarious. I like those special kisses too.

As usual, before I left the side of Henry's bed I said, "God bless you, Henry." My sweet son said, "Where is God?" I said, "He's in your heart, Henry. God loves you." "Can I see him, Mommy?" "No honey, you can't see him. Just know he's in your heart." I think I'm lucky that he asked where and not who.

Last night when Olivia was the last child awake she decided to read her new prayer card to us. As she read it a thought struck her. She hopped off the couch, and said, "I'm going to sing it like a Religious Rock Star," and SHE DID. Robbie and I exchanged big smiles and watched our big girl sway and sing pop style to a Gaelic Poem.

Yesterday at Village Church as I unloaded Vivian from her infant carrier in the van, Henry asked to jump out of the van. I told him not to jump. He jumped. He caught his foot on my leg, and he face planted in the parking lot. You can see the scrapes on his poor nose in the photos above. Before playgroup today, Henry said he wanted to dress up in a ballerina costume. Evelyn helped him, and I took his picture this time. A bit later we figured out that he could still squeeze his fat feet into his old snow boots that are two sizes too small. He added the hat, and that was phase two. Robbie will be happy to learn that when he entered the house of our playgroup our son was dressed in two layers of firefighter clothes. Henry calls himself a Fiya Fight-uh. He also keeps saying, "Look at my face. I tell you some fang (something)."

As I nursed Vivian at 5:15 am this morning, Henry woke up and began talking to me nonstop. He asked me if baby dogs play soccer. He then asked me if dolphins play soccer. He asked me how he can play soccer. I asked him to please stop talking while I nursed baby sis. He and the baby went back to sleep, and I took a shower sometime later. I got out and heard Henry crying and yelling for me. I entered his room naked with the intention of just getting him out of his room before he further bothered Vivian. It was pitch black dark in his room, but a light was on in my bedroom. I guess he could see me. He took one look at me and said, "You go get dressed. You ALL naked." I laughed, turned, left his room, dressed, and returned. He had not forgotten. "You were all NAKED, Mommy."

Sometimes I think I share too many details with my children. I have told Henry that he grew in my belly when he was a tiny baby. I tell him that he used to be little like Vivian, and he used to nurse like Vivian does now. One day he said, "I grew in your belly. You pushed me out your butt." I burst out laughing and said, "No, no." Before I could finish, he said, "You pushed me out your boobies." This got a similar response from me, then he said, "You pushed me out your body." I do remember telling him something about how he was once in my belly, and then he was born. I think I said, "I pushed you out of my body, and you were born." He remembered.

Finally, I had a scary discovery with Vivian right before bed last night. Robbie was gone, so I was trying to clean the kitchen, make lunches, bathe Henry and the girls, and get everyone ready for bed. Vivian will sit and play in the middle of the living room floor with toys between her legs. She doesn't fall over too often, so she doesn't roll all over the place when I set her up like that. She'd been playing with the girls nearby, and I kept calling, "Is the baby okay?" This went on for a good bit of time as I did all that I listed above. Once it was Vivian's turn to get undressed for her bath, I tickled her on her changing table. I saw something white in her mouth, and I thought it was facial tissue. I swiped it out, and it was an oval-shaped piece of plastic from a grocery bag. I almost burst into tears. I constantly harp about choking hazards and their danger to baby Vivian. I had 15 sacks on the floor of the kitchen that I hadn't ever folded from the early afternoon grocery shopping trip. A little piece from the handle must have done a static cling number to one of us, and we tracked it into Vivian's area. She loves to pick up tiny things. Thank you God that she's okay. That was not good.

Finally, I really have an appreciation for military wives/husbands and single parents. Robbie had grand rounds and a journal club meeting last night, so he got home at my bedtime. It is now 9:35 pm, and he was home for all of about 12 minutes this evening before he had to leave for a 7 pm meeting. It was a LONG, hard afternoon with the children. We didn't do a lot of laughing, is how I'll put it. Their naps overlapped terribly, and there was a lot of crying...from the children, not me. Really, I only felt like crying. I felt like I was hanging on by a thread, yet hubby didn't come home and didn't come home. He also wisely didn't answer his phone. A friend told me that her husband was gone all of last week, and she had a hard time with her three and the youngest's tantrums. Henry has been doing his fair share of throwing himself on the floor and freaking out over candy, warm milk, specific sippy cups, clothing and shoe requests that I don't always honor. In any event, I really love my husband. I enjoy his company. I love hearing the words, "I'm headed home." I appreciate his active daddy role, and I'm glad I get to share this whirlwind childrearing experience with him. I found a good one in Robbie O. I hope he is on board with the "not raising a clean house" philosophy. I try to do a toy and clutter cleaning sweep before he gets home from work, but sometimes our house just looks like we live in it...and live in it we do.

My Son the Ballerina

Henry is a trip. This weekend Evelyn thought it would be hilarious, which it totally was, to dress her little brother in a pale blue, velour, ballet leotard with attached skirt. It also sparkled all over. He came running out to show us, and Ev had put it on backwards. His little nipples showed. Robbie and I had just had a conversation about how Robbie did NOT want Henry wearing the old princess and fairies Pull-Ups that I found in the girls' closet. "He wears enough of that kind of thing as it is, and I don't want him wearing those." I was shocked. I thought I was about to win some points for saving money on a box of paper products that Henry would #1 and #2 into, but Robbie would not budge. No fairy Pull-Ups for Henry! Period. Today, after I took Olivia and Evelyn to gymnastics, Henry announced that he wanted to go to Beller for gymnastics and ballet too. Mind you, today he threw a major temper tantrum over not being allowed to wear his Spiderman PJ top all day, and he has the giant Spiderman slippers on in his crib right now. He's all boy, but he understands girls. He'll do well in life. At MOPS today he gave baby Abby (Nada's daughter) about 15 kisses. He heard me enter the nursery to feed Vivian this morning, and he said, "Mommy, that you? You come back? (He was upset last night that I planned to leave the house to go to book club at his bedtime.) YAY!!!! I so happy, Mommy. I love you so much, no matter what. You soooo pretty." He amazes me with his sweetness.

Vivian has been waving, and I LOVE it. The ladies at MOPPETS today told me that they think she is so beautiful. That's music to a mama's ears. Vivian now sits and plays with little toys that I place in front of her in the living room. Henry is very careful around her, and I'm proud of him for it. Baby has been eating her weight in Cheerios. She grabs them with such intention. I love her thighs. I can't get enough of her fat rolls. They are precious and adorable. She's really been making eyes at Robbie lately. She gets excited when she sees him. She makes him light up, then I light up, and we're all smiling.

Evelyn received her first preschool progress report Friday, and we celebrated her success with sausage and pepperoni pizza. We even had Pepsi. Her teachers wrote the most wonderful comments about little Evelyn, and we were so happy for her. Her academic notes were super too.

Olivia had soccer on Saturday, and she got all embarrassed when I tried to kiss her before I sent her off toward the field. I about died of shock. She's only seven. I'm supposed to still be her sun and moon, not mortify her in public. We talked about it at dinner, and she prefers I kiss her in our van. I agreed, and I thanked her for honestly sharing her feelings with me. I told her that allows me to show my respect for her wishes and help her feel comfortable. However, when she pulled back at the parking lot's edge on Saturday I squealed and chased her down, grabbed her, tickled her, and attacked her with kisses all over her pretty little face. We laughed so hard. Evelyn chased after us.

Olivia isn't a milk lover like my other three. She gave me all sorts of trouble at dinner last night when I put her glass before her, and I explained it was my job to keep her healthy. "Milk is good for your bones. Who wants to be a little old lady with a hunched over back who falls and breaks her bones?" Henry raised his hand. We erupted in laughter. You know, as I share these parts of my days with you grandparents and any other readers, it dawns on me in a delightful way that there is a good amount of laughter in our house. I have many crazy moments of frustration too, but I hope my children grow up to remember the love and laughter.

Come On, Vogue

I love this mommy gig. Sometimes their crying and emotional swings are trying, but the rewards are worth every bit of challenge. Yesterday, little 8-month-old Vivian tried to copy me as I sang Edelweiss to her as I diapered her darling bottom. She raised and lowered her voice and made beautiful baby noises. I was in love. Today on our way home from school Madonna's Vogue played on the radio. I told Evelyn that my squad did a dance to the song in high school, and I showed her some moves. This was a sensational morning as far as Kansas weather is concerned, which always boosts my mood. I turned up the volume, sang my heart out, threw in Vogue moves (you remember, you frame your face with your hands), and laughed as Henry and Evelyn stared at me totally spellbound and motionless. They clearly did not know what to think of Mommy's re-enactment. I, however, felt joy in my heart. Music is so powerful. I may not know one bit about the latest musicians, but I know every word to my kids' Vacation Bible Camp CD. The messages in it are beautiful for my children to hear. God loves us. That's a much better message than Rock Star with a great beat, but terrible words..."The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap. We'll all stay skinny, cause we just won't eat." I had to turn that one off with my three young ones in my vehicle.

Henry just came to me with a very small tennis shoe which goes to his sister's cheerleader Build A Bear (a gift from Grandpa Overlease). "Put this on me," he said. He has on his cousin's old Spiderman PJ top with matching slippers. The slippers have a huge stuffed Spiderman head on the top of each foot, and Henry LOVES them. He wants to take them to playgroup this morning to show his boy buds. He calls the super hero, "Pider MAN!" Henry also calls apple cider "apple pider". He's such an easy little guy to love. He has still been telling me that I'm so pretty. I'm a lucky mama to hear such words from a 2-year-old, a boy no less.

No Matter What

My young son listens. He often hears my discussions with his big sisters about their misbehavior and my unconditional love. Our talks go something like, "I know you made a mistake, and I forgive you. I always love you, no matter what." We hug and go on about our business. Henry has taken note of this exchange. Robbie and I discovered that on separate occasions after Henry got into some trouble we told him we love him, and before we could continue he said, "No matter what." He has been saying it with emphasis lately, and the words make my heart sing.

On a recent walk on a day off school Olivia and Evelyn saw a large dog on a leash attack and kill a squirrel. It was quite awful. Olivia was sobbing, and she asked me why the animal's arms and legs shook before it died. My heart broke. She has such a tender heart and an amazing ability to empathize. That's one of the qualities I love most about my sweet Olivia. I don't think Miss Evelyn gave a rip about the squirrel. She said little. Olivia talked about it again and again, and I don't think she'll soon forget what she witnessed. Later in that walk I told her how a political sign had again appeared in our yard without my consent. I was mad about it. I told her somebody was going to get an ear full if they called me anytime soon. She asked, "Are you going to call the Pope or the President?"

Henry is obsessed with some of Olivia's clothing items. His favorites include her soccer jersey, her big cleats, and a navy Ralph Lauren cotton skirt. He had a terrible fit over wanting to wear Olivia's school plaid jumper, and I said, "No." He put on a blue fairy costume, wore the headband, and announced, "I'm a bee!"

Baby Vivian has decided to exert her opinion. God help me. The baby is in love with fruit puffs and Cheerios. They are like Baby Cheetos to her, and she WANTS them. She also wants MORE of them! She will scream during dinner when I try to spoon feed baby food into her little mouth, then she'll immediately calm if I shake the fruit puffs can in front of her. She knows what she wants, and she has been telling me LOUDLY. And, here we go...

It dawned on me that my girls have never watched our wedding video, so we remedied that last night. Evelyn wanted Henry to watch it with her today, and they sat through a full Catholic mass and watched the reception too. Evelyn got very upset with Henry for saying he wanted to marry Daddy. "He ALREADY married Mommy, Henry. He can't marry you!!" She is so forceful with him sometimes. I sometimes cringe as I hear my own tone in her young voice. The girls told me how beautiful I looked, and they laughed when Robbie said a few different things on camera. It was really neat for them to hear our friends talk about us. My sweet friend Kara said some wonderful words about me that I think really made the girls perk up. Thank you, Kara, for that special story.

I Want To See God

Robbie is unavailable all weekend, so it is absurd that I had it in my head that my lovely children would actually sleep in this Saturday. Henry called to me from his crib at 6 am sharp, and he needed to potty. He'd peed out of his diaper onto his PJs and all over his bedding, so I had to give him a shower and change sheets. That woke Vivian. Evelyn got up with more diarrhea, and she turned on the light, which woke Olivia. She was up late at Kenna's birthday party, so she was tired this morning. And, there you have it. We were all awake.

As I made warm milk and prepared some breakfast, I heard Olivia tell Henry that Robbie was learning about Jesus today at our church. She said in the sweetest voice and with total seriousness, "Mommy almost named you Jesus." I burst out laughing and called her on it. She said, "You did!" I don't know what she remembers. Henry has been Henry since before we had Olivia.

Henry noticed the crucifix in our room which was given to us by Aunt Corrine and Uncle Lee during our year in OKC. Henry now says, "I want to see God." I'll walk him over to the wall where the cross hangs, and Henry will say, "His eyes are closed. I can't see him. Is he sleeping?" Wow, that is a big question. I said, "Yes." I told him that Jesus died for us so that we can go to Heaven someday. You guessed it. He said, "What's Heaven?" I honestly started to tell him that in Heaven he could have Olivia's soccer jersey and cleats every day. That's his heart's desire these days (and the terrible source of BIG old temper tantrums), and isn't that what we hope Heaven will offer, among other things? I told him it was a very good place where Henry could be with Jesus, and I left it at that.

We enjoyed gorgeously cool and sunny fall weather for Olivia's soccer game at 11 am. I packed lunches, and we dined field-side on our beach blanket. It was lovely. We sat with our friends the Conways, and Henry played with the twins while Amy and I had a really nice conversation of substance. That's rare with two-year-olds nearby, so I felt blessed at the chance to make a connection with another adult.

We were naturally out of milk, so I had to take all four children grocery shopping. The store was having a huge meat sale, which I found quite amusing. Does that mean the meat is really big or all of it is on sale? Hmmm? A quick stop for milk and bananas turned into food for the week and donuts and Shatto chocolate milk for tomorrow's breakfast. The kids scored. However, I had too many bags of groceries to tote and unload, tired and hungry kids, and only two seats in the car cart. Olivia got really upset. The baby was in the Ergo Carrier, happy enough. Once we got into the car and passed by Cure', Olivia began crying loudly and wailing for her father. "I want my father. I love my father more than anyone else loves him, and I want him back NOW." She went on and on, and cried for 10 minutes. I finally told her the crying would have to end, or she's receive a consequence for not pulling herself together and giving the rest of us some peace. Henry said, "Yaya is very upset. Oh, sis. You okay?" He's a sweet one.

Now that October is here the girls are all about decorating for Halloween. We got out the big orange tub...after MUCH asking. I was hesitant. Our little house has so much stuff in it already that holiday decorations kind of cause me some physical distress. I was picking up toys and tidying things as the children got into the tub and started pulling out pumpkins that glow and window clings. I heard a crash, looked down, and Henry had dropped a one of a kind, hand-painted plate that Gwen made for us. It was one of my very favorite things from her, and my heart just fell. I was furious with myself for not overseeing the removal of decorations. I was on the phone with Mrs. Scarboro trying to figure out babysitting next week for Olivia's baptismal renewal for the start of this special 2nd grade sacrament year. Vivian was fussying. I was trying to multi-task too much, and a price was paid. I know it was only a thing that broke, but is was a very special and treasured material object. I'm so sad. I swooped Henry into his crib for time-out so that I could have my own personal mommy time-out. When I went back to my crying and sad son I asked him if he knew why he was in trouble. "I broke Ninnie's plate." I told him I love him. I will always love him. I forgive him. Then I explained why he should not have been messing around with Mommy's Halloween things. He apologized.

Evelyn has had terrible tummy trouble since Thursday night, and I just keep waiting for her to feel better. They all took a good long nap today. I let the girls stay up late with me tonight, and we looked through an old photo album from when Robbie and I were falling in love at TU in college. He had longer hair, and Olivia said, "Daddy looks much better now." We saw pictures of little William Hightower when he was Henry's age, and I told them the story that went with a photo of the two of us in a baby pool. He pointed to my chest and said, "What's that?" I said, "That's my bikini." He said very slowly, "Mommy doesn't have a boo-kini." I'll never forget that exchange. The girls fell over into giggles.

Well, it is time for me to enjoy some Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet reading time. I have to hand it to single parents and those with a spouse in the military who are left to raise their children alone. I am so thankful for the help that my fabulous husband offers to our family. He does so much, and I appreciate it tremendously. I feel the strain when he isn't around to do his thing, and I love him even more. Robbie O. is a keeper.

Oh, Vivian is cutting bottom teeth. She also isn't wild about peas. They make her cry. I think poopy diapers and peas are her sad points today. Her high point, of course, is booby milk. It makes her happy and healthy and chubby and smart. Life is good.