Bristle Block Bed

Robbie and I were up late last night wrapping gifts and assembling. Vivian started crying around 11:30 pm, and I convinced Robbie to climb out of bed to check on her. I've been the one to get up in the middle of the night for a bad stretch lately, and we were still awake - if only slightly. He returned to explain that she had dumped an entire bag of bristle blocks into her crib, and that's why she was upset and uncomfortable. Later, at 3:30 am, she called for me again. This time she was wet up to her armpits with pee, and I had to strip her and her bed. Her linens, PJs, and blankies are now washing, and she keeps looking for her favorite small blanket with longing eyes. Shortly after 6 am all of my goslings were awake and ready to roll. Robbie is making oatmeal.

NO-FAY-UH!!

Numerous naked Christmas gifts for the children scream to be wrapped, but I must write. It has been too long since I made an entry, and this time of year is full of excitement and humor around this happy little home.

Vivian has been keeping me on my toes all day. She began by climbing onto the door of the dishwasher three times in the span of ten minutes. Each time she completely caught me off guard. I turned my back for an instant or left the room when a child called. She acted like she was doing some serious work, and she was quite put out that I yanked her baby body off the open door. Of all things!!

She climbed onto the kitchen table recently right after Olivia lit the Advent candles without permission before dinner. Robbie and I were both out of the room when she put a napkin into the flame. Luckily, she flung it to the floor without catching anything on fire, and Olivia's quick thinking saved the day. She grabbed the flaming paper, ran to the kitchen sink, and ended up with a burn. She cried for many minutes, and I think a solid impression was made on all four children about the dangers of messing with fire. We got lucky.

The baby is getting some spirit. This evening I made salmon patties for dinner with homemade sweet potato fries. Henry entered the kitchen saying, "Something STINKS!!" I served the patties on hamburger buns, and I heard Olivia say, "This tastes like a fish burger. IS this a fish burger?" "Yes, actually it is." Evelyn said, "Mom, this taste-es disgusting." Usually I get quite up in arms over such comments, but tonight I just laughed. I had the upper hand. I knew that Robbie had brought home mini cupcakes with glitter icing from my all time favorite bakery. I knew there would be no dessert for any child who chose to forego my dinner creation. I explained this to Vivian, and she said, honest to goodness, "Mommy, no fay-uh! NO-FAY-UH!!" She is only 1. I take this as Evelyn's influence.

Miss Evelyn is quite a lovely singer. She knows the words, and her voice is pretty. She had a kindergarten Christmas program this week, and I took the little kids. Little Ev was in the front row. Vivian said to her brother as she stood in the aisle, "Henry! Let's dance." She kept spinning around and doing her darling baby dance moves. She bobs and sways and spins happily. Our sweet neighbors the Scarboros had us over for a holiday evening celebration last weekend. I dressed the girls in their Christmas church dresses. We always go to the neighbor's evening in fancy attire, and the kids enjoy this. The girls had matching dresses, and Vivian said, "Oh, pretttttyyyyy!" when she first saw hers. As soon as the zipper reached the top of her dress, she began to twirl. It was classic. She loved the dress. She felt beautiful. She wanted to dance. She was a picture of joy in that moment.

Olivia chose red, green, and gold rubber bands for her braces at the start of December. She now wears glasses during each school day. She has been playing the piano for us, and Robbie's face lights up with delight each time he listens to her music.

We have a little elf in our house. His name is Porton, and he uses magic to fly to the North Pole each evening to tell Santa about my children. I find myself reminding my young son of this nightly event, and each time he says, "Sorry, Mom!!" Vivian sometimes copies his reply.

She was acting feisty after her bath, and she didn't want lotion on her face. She swatted at me, and I said, "No, NO. You don't hit Mommy." She did an unexpected kick at my face, and I said, "Oh, no you don't. I'll eat your foot like a dinosaur if you try to kick me." Henry ran into the room, and he said, "Oh, Mommy. Please don't eat baby's foot. That would be TERRIBLE. Wait, Mom. Are you just kidding?"

Robbie and I still look at each other and wonder if our family is complete. Then moments come when Henry sneaks into my bed in the 5 o'clock hour after using the restroom and manages to still let more pee come out next to me on my bed. I'm tired. Another load of laundry is instantly added to my to do list before my eyes even open, and I doubt I have it in me to effectively mother another newborn. Actually, I could mother another newborn on hormones alone, but I might need another substance to handle another male preschooler. God bless Henry. He can be such a sweetheart. He asks me to rock him each evening for a few minutes, and he snuggles against my chest as I rub his back. Vivian often wakes me up to, "Mommy, where are you?" or "Mommy, I'm ready." She's killed my sleep pattern this week with night wakings. The worst was when I entered her room and she said, "Hay-uh in my EYES." I brushed it aside, used a clip to hold it, and I put her back into her crib. Henry told me that he used to sleep in a bed with bars like Vivian, and he'd prefer another one instead of his bed. At least he isn't climbing into baby's bed anymore.

On the bright side...everyone here is healthy. Our Christmas tree has not yet been knocked over. I learned most kids will eat almost anything to get glitter cupcakes. I'm still excited to wake up by my sweet husband, and I'm thrilled when Robbie gets home each evening. I am LOVED, and I get hugs and kisses each and every day. Sometimes they are sticky or wet or stinky, but they are kisses just the same. I am one lucky woman.

The kids favorite things:

Vivian - "me we" (her little pink blanket that I made) and her thumb

Evelyn - "night night" (her brown blanket that I made) and her thumb

Henry - ME and being Violet the girl dog (strangers think he's saying he's violent)

Olivia - The Chronicles of Narnia and pretend play

I Feel Like I Runned Out of Batteries

Henry's temp under his arm just registered 102.8, and that is unfortunately considered low around here these days. He woke up from his nap crying, and as I held him he said pathetically, "I feel like I runned out of batteries." Out of the mouths of babes, I tell you. Yesterday he felt so yucky that twice, once shortly after he rose for the morning, he put himself down for a nap!!! He said, "My head hurts. I think I need to go to sleep."

The younger two girls have had the highest temperatures, upper 103s axillary, and their moods reflect it. They just feel terrible, and we've been doing a lot of rocking and back rubbing. I can't wait for everyone to feel well again. I may actually welcome some loud playtime sounds in my house.

During one of Henry's up moments during the past week he reached onto the counter in the kitchen for a shaker of Halloween colored sugar decorator sprinkles. He said, "Will you please go away?" When I left the room for some reason a few minutes later I returned to find him with the purple sugar being poured onto his tongue as he hid behind a cabinet door. Little rascal! He amused me with his response in the van to the question, "What is Vivian saying?" when he answered, "Henry's awesome." She does request shoes by color now, but I have yet to hear the word "awesome" out of my baby girl.

Evelyn crafted a mustache out of paper, and she taped it to Vivian's upper lift. She then gave me the quote of the week. "Look at our baby daddy."

Here We Fly Off the Merry-Go-Round

Sweet Olivia is home sick with a temperature of 102. She and Henry are under a blanket watching shows together. Vivian is playing in her little kitchen like a busy bee. Ev is at school. Robbie was worried after he dropped her off in the carpool lane, because Olivia always walks her to her classroom.

I haven't blogged recently, so I have accumulated a series of notes scribbled here and there to share. Here are the highlights from my children over the last weeks.

We took a beautiful fall walk yesterday, and we smelled some cigarette smoke. Henry and I didn't like it one bit. What a terrible odor! Our neighborhood elementary school put red plastic cups into their fence to spell DRUG FREE 4-EVER. Henry asked me about it numerous times as we drove past. After we talked about how gross the smoke smelled he said, "Drug Free FOREVER!!! NO smoking." He actually remembered the fence message. He also listens to a lot that I try to communicate to the children, although he may only apply it for his own advantage. When Vivian didn't want to share her Cheerios with Henry, I heard him tell her, "We share in this family, Vivian."

Our family did a 5K this weekend, and my brother joined us too. It was really chilly that morning, but we had fun. Robbie and Anthony ran with Olivia, and she finished in about 30 minutes at age 8. I pushed Vivian, and Henry and Evelyn were on foot. They ran, then walked, then ran more. Henry begged to wear his Lightning McQueen padded muscle suit for the race, but I insisted on warm workout clothes. Several times on the course, I heard him say, "Straight line speed," a line from CARS. He also dropped into a runner's stance, then took off like a flash. Evelyn really kicked up the pace as she proceeded to the finish line. Henry had a grimace on his face, and he was totally serious as he completed his run. It was awesome.

We played as a family at a nearby park on Sunday, and they have a rare merry-go-round. Robbie is much wilder with his play with the kids than I like. All of the kids were having fun on the merry-go-round, and he gave it a full running spin with all his might. Henry made one full rotation before he let go and flew off onto the ground with a big thud. I got it on video on my phone, but my husband will shoot me if I post his bad move. When Henry talked about the experience later he said, "Mommy, I'm so glad blood didn't come out of my head." We were glad too.

After the girls got out of the van in carpool I started to drive forward while the van door was still open. A loud warning beep kept sounding, but I couldn't get the door to close. I thought Henry was blocking it by doing something with his leg, so after blocking the carpool progress momentarily, I was forced to pull over to investigate. An umbrella had gotten lodged in the way, and it blocked the door from shutting. Henry said, "Nice try, Mom. That was really funny."

Uncle Anthony loves my children so much, but I think they are sometimes a bit much for him. He suggested tacos as a dinner, which seemed like a really easy fix for me. However, baby Vivian now screams (and I do not use this word lightly) at every dinner meal. It doesn't matter where I try to let her sit or what I serve. She goes berserk!!! It is about to end my sanity. The night of the taco dinner, she was in even higher volume form. Evelyn was in tears because her soft taco shell kept unfolding, which let the contents spill out. Henry cracked his hard taco shell with his first bite, and he kept getting out of his seat as my attention was diverted to the other two in meltdown mode. Robbie was in the garage. How can a taco dinner go so south? Thank goodness Olivia ate like a nice little lady. That's the beauty of parenting. There is no way to predict what will happen in any given hour. My life is not dull. Evelyn made all of us laugh by commenting that Vivian should stay in her high chair since she is not chair trained.

I can't predict Henry's likes either. He asked me to please find a butterfly Halloween costume for him. He also asks every single morning, "Mommy, may I please have some strawberry oatmeal in the red butterfly bowl?" So much for Lightning McQueen, "KA-Chow!!"

We had a really fun Halloween trick-or-treating night. Evelyn was very sad that we couldn't go with the Finlasons and their dog Mario like every other year. The new neighbor came over to take a photo of our family, and somehow the girls asked her to let us take their dog, Violet, down the street. Robbie agreed, and the kids were ecstatic. Little Vivian was dressed in her friend Abby's size 0-6 mos. bumblebee costume. She didn't want to be carried or hold anyone's hand. She wanted to walk like a big shot, and she'd say, "Treat?" very sweetly to the neighbors. The black cat, angel, and dinosaur got a LOT of loot. I now have to deny candy morning, noon, and night. Luckily, another warning about getting holes in his teeth from not brushing them has secured itself into Henry's head. He likes brushing his teeth.

My big girls have been working really hard in school, and their teachers recognize and appreciate their qualities of work ethic and good character. We are really proud of them.

Vivian's language explosion is in progress. Today she asked me for her night-night. When I asked her where she left it she said, "In that room." I told her to get it, and she said with a frustrated tone, "I can't reach that night-night." She is 21 months today, and I can't even believe it. I have several friends with newborns, and they look so tiny.

Henry ate cereal with glue.

I have a terrible cough. I have a cough that starts and doesn't cease. This morning was my turn to serve as a parent volunteer teacher for Children's Church for 13 one and two-year-olds. I didn't think my friends would appreciate me coughing all over the room where the babies played, so this morning, after a fitful night of coughing while trying to sleep, I tried to find a replacement. My replacement turned out to be Robbie. "Will I have to change any diapers?" was his very serious question. He agreed to help me, but my confident and capable husband looked irritated and slightly unsure as he left the house. I handed him the timeline for the class, and he said, "What? We have to do a craft?" Olivia went to help him. Robbie is a good man, but today he was also a lucky man. His co-teacher was Mo, a very nice friend of mine. Three 8th grade student volunteers were present. Only three little children attended Children's Church in Robbie's room. He had a smooth sail.

I, on the other hand, in an effort to make it up to him, tried to have our traditional big Sunday breakfast ready when he came through the door. I forgot to get buttermilk for his from scratch pancake recipe, so I used a vinegar and milk substitution. The result was not like Robbie's. The kids gobbled them down, but Robbie and I were sorely disappointed. Henry took the craft project from Children's Church, and he ate ten fruit loops that Olivia had glued to two trees on a sheet of paper. Really, Henry? You ate glued cereal, and then you didn't stop at just one or two?

Henry's hair grew quite long. It was so long, in fact, that I thought he looked like a surfer boy. Robbie took him to the barber shop yesterday, and they had to wait (with the big girls too) for a long time. One old guy was cutting hair, and Robbie described a long row of seated gentlemen waiting for a turn. Robbie told me that right before the end of Robbie's cut, Henry started saying this little chant that he learned from the Wojo boys. It includes hand movements similar to the Macarena. Robbie heard him start, "Oh, MY GOSH! I think I broke a ...," at which point Robbie said a loud, "HENRY!" before Henry could finish with a high pitched, "nail." He said he was mortified. Henry was asked to sing a song recently, and he belted, "You always can't get what you wa-antt!" over and over again. I guess we should sing that line to poor Robbie.

Olivia has been having some trouble getting up in the morning for school. This week she promised me that since I took her to a library to listen to a children's book author speak late into the evening, she would get right out of bed the next day with full cooperation. She got out of bed, but she decided to lie down outside her bedroom door on the floor of the hallway in the dark in the six o'clock hour. I flipped off my bedroom light before I left the room to try to avoid waking Vivian by letting light spill into the hall, and I stepped on Olivia's neck. I am so thankful that I didn't seriously injure her. I stepped on something, lost my balance, fell, stepped on something else in the dark, and finally realized it was Olivia. She has a red mark under her ear lobe, and I don't think she'll do that again soon.

Baby Vivian is now 20 months. She has been nodding super big, and her word strings are long and clear. I love it. Olivia said, "Mom, baby is four months from being two." Wow! Another HUGE wow is that after I unfastened Henry from his car seat this week he helped me by unbuckling baby Vivian from her five-point harness car seat. He put his hands under her arms and lifted her out of her seat. I jumped up and down with excitement. Our one car garage requires me to crawl in and out of the van to get Vivian in place, so Henry's help was huge.

Evelyn has had a cough too, and it gets the worst at night. I was up with her in the middle of the night three times this week giving her nebulizer breathing treatments. It was nice, quiet snuggle time, but it has caught up with me. I am old tired mama. Thankfully, when I just told Olivia to lay out her clothes for school in preparation for tomorrow morning, she reminded me that we have no school tomorrow. Thank you, Columbus.

Sprinkler Surprise

Again the children played outside as I made their lunches today. Henry and Evelyn raked some leaves into a pile, and baby Vivian pushed a big black truck around the yard. This morning the children spotted inside a yogurt package some tongue tattoos (which I was going to toss), and they remembered them after they ate their picnic lunch. We were inside applying bunnies to their tongues when we heard a distress cry from Vivian. I went running, and she stood on the paved area outside our patio with her arms outstretched, "ALL wet!!" she uttered sadly. She was drenched. Robbie changed the program on the sprinkler system, and it went off on her as she played in the grass. She was soaked to the bone. "Oh, poor baby girl," I said as I rescued her. Evelyn sweetly offered to undress, dry, and change her. Bad daddy. Noon is not a good sprinkler setting.

Henry's Super Cape

This weekend we went to Oklahoma to spend some time with Great-grandma Gloria and Grandpa Overlease. Robbie took us down Highway 71, then we drove 540 and 112 through the mountains in Arkansas. The scenery was spectacular. The leaves on the trees were still green, so the view often looked like bunches of broccoli. It was very pretty. The bridges were terrifyingly high. No joke. I felt like I was on an outdoors amusement park ride. I was pretty scared. I can also attest to the fact that I can't recall a location where we were surrounded by more fast and crazy drivers than on that stretch of road. My friend from Arkansas said they were U of A college kids.

We went hiking at Robber's Cave State Park. This was Henry's first trip to the caves, and he loved it. He tried hard to climb the rocks as well as his sisters, and he gave it his best effort. The girls really, really enjoy their trips to Robber's Cave. They used to insist it was called Robert's Cave. Some of the climbing was quite dangerous, and we really had to hold onto our kids. At one point we all sat down together with our legs hanging over the side of a cliff. The rocks, cliffs, and an expanse of trees on various elevations spread around us. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, and gorgeous clouds hung in the sky. We had a memorable family moment. Robbie and I looked at each other and commented on the blessing of our little children. Grandpa Overlease was atop another ledge higher than us not too far away, and I prayed he wouldn't fall.

My little Henry was tucked under my arm, and he uttered some words that will surely go down in the Overlease book of history. I think he said something which when we look back on it years from now, may summarize this little guy's childhood. All of the sudden, it was as though a light bulb went off inside Henry's head. His little voice registered what I can best describe as an, "Oh, Man!! Why didn't I think of that?" tone. He said, "Ohhh! I should have brought my super cape." I burst out laughing, hugged him, then said, "Henry, look at my face. You can't really fly with your super cape on, Buddy. It is just pretend, so don't jump off of anything high, okay?" I held his hand extra tight after that.

Again, I will note that I feel lucky my children have two parents. Kids need balance. I am the cautious one, and Robbie is the one who took the girls to the top of a cliff and tried to help them climb down what is called Devil's Slide. A light layer of sand made the steep sheet of rock incredibly slick, and they did not have good footing. "Crab walk! Crab walk!!" I yelled from way down below. Robbie almost always crosses the line between exciting and unsafe, but the girls survived. I kept Henry with me for that one.

We had a nice visit in Wilburton, and the grandparents seemed to really enjoy the children. It was a good weekend.

Pickle-icious

Vivian is very little for her age. Today, I think she had the first experience of ever exerting dominance over another living creature. She certainly doesn't have that luxury at home with her older siblings. Henry bowls over the poor baby at least once a day. She's resilient. This morning was another sunny, but brisk, morning. Such days are my favorite, and I almost can't stand not getting outside. We've been taking long walks, and I LOVE this weather. Vivian loves the great outdoors too. She often says, "OutSIDE!!" After we dropped off Henry at gymnastics, (which, by the way, he keeps calling "ballet class") I drove Evelyn and baby Vivian to a park with a large pond and playground. Vivian was in Heaven. She kept saying, "Honk! Honk!" I think my child would have picked up a goose had I let her get close enough. As it was, she kept following them, and they kept honking and moving away from her. She controlled the show, and she was very happy about it. One of my favorite things Vivian does these days is express her joy. Sometimes when I hand her "night-night" (her blanket) or give her warm milk, the angel will smile and say, "Happy." At the dentist's office today the women kept coming to the waiting area from the back to check out Vivian's cheeks and blue eyes. She was a hit with the ladies.

I asked Henry during a recent walk what I do that makes him happy. He said, "Play cars with me. Make me warm milk. Make me oatmeal with cinnamon." I have three Henry stories to share before I hit the sack. First, he said, "I'm going to marry you when I grow up, and when I grow up, Daddy's going to grow little." Next, he copies his big sisters and sings his version of a funny song to me. It goes, "Mommy and Daddy, sitting in a tree, K-I-S (pause) T-U-V." Just typing that made me laugh out loud. He thinks he's so clever with that one. I about ended his cleverness when I found him standing inside the lowest drawer of his highboy dresser just as he jumped out of it. My girls were never so dangerous. Finally, yesterday the children played in the yard as I made lunch, then I let them have a picnic. The baby dropped her pear slice in the rubber mulch of the playset. Henry's hands were a mess, and he told me, "Mom, we're digging for coconuts." He held a jar of acorns.

Okay, this one needs prep. There is a children's storybook with the title Pinkilicious. It is about a youngster who sneaks too many pink cupcakes and....(yes...you guessed it) she turns pink. All of my kids like the story. The little girl tells it, and the voice is great. Evelyn is our art girl. She is constantly, and that is no stretch, CONSTANTLY making projects. She lives to create things with paper and glue and tape and anything else she can find...trash, scrap ribbon, feathers, rocks. The list is long. Well, during one recent endeavor she managed to turn her foot green. It stayed green after the shower she gave herself. Robbie was teasing her about it, and he said, "I think Evelyn must be Pickle-icious." Olivia and I LOVED Daddy's joke. Man, did we laugh hard. I love Robbie's humor, and that was his best quick thinking line in ages. Evelyn found no humor in it. She got mad about her green feet and the pickle comment. I think Pickle-icious may stick. If she's sour, then I'm going to bring it out again.

Olivia has now had two piano lessons. Robbie wanted her to practice more this evening, and she was mad about it. She left the room in a huff and then sat down to play her songs some more. I told Robbie that it was ironic that we knew she was mad, yet she couldn't sit down and bang out some low down tune. Instead, the little song was light and sweet and high. It didn't match her attitude one bit. That was a blessing for us.

God's Gifts

My children and I share High Points and Low Points about each day after school. Evelyn almost always says that her high point is when I pick her up after school. I have a special high point to share. If something tops this one yet today, then I have more blessings than one mom deserves.

On the drive to my first bible study, Henry was entertaining Vivian in the van. She kept giggling, and they were laughing together. I said, "I love your friendship." Henry asked what I meant, and I explained that when they play together and laugh and enjoy each other, it makes me very happy as a mom. My guy said, "Mom, did God give me to you?" I told him yes, and he said with the sweetest voice, "Oooohhhh!" as though he was really touched by this blessing. He then said, "God loves you, Mom. God loves me, and God loves baby Vivian." Amen.

H Man is upstairs talking, talking, talking nonstop in his bed at nap time. However, he stays in his room, so I am not going near him. Mom and Ant got a big kick out of Henry while I was away recently on a trip. Apparently, he was the tired one, and baby was talking incessantly. He started saying, "Be quiet, Baby. I'm TRYING to sleep. Vivian, STOP talking! Be QUIET, Vivian." His requests didn't work. I think that was payback to Henry for all of his shenanigans.

A Turtle Bite and Baby Jail

Apparently I can't read the very long (and wonderful) book The Invisible Bridge while also reading War and Peace, and still find time to parent, maintain domestic order, and exercise. Sorry for the delay in my blog.

Few things bring out the drama in the Overlease children like open wounds. We just returned from eating in the neighbor's backyard. He smoked some great brisket, and the kids ran around and played. Evelyn got bitten by the pet turtle that lives in a large boxed area of the yard. The bite drew blood, and she has a big flap of loose skin. Henry was very concerned, then he commented in a very positive manner, "But her finger is still there!" Yes, luckily for Ev, he's right. Robbie found some remaining dirt in it after her bath, and screaming from fear followed. I tried all kinds of tricks to distract her. Nothing worked well. Finally I said, "Evelyn, your daddy is a doctor, and he is trying to help you." "He is NOT a finger doctor!!" I burst out laughing. Robbie did an amazing job of staying calm. Evelyn had Henry very concerned due to all of her yelling.

Robbie and I returned from a trip to Martha's Vineyard for a friend's wedding (Thanks for staying with the kids Mom and Mike!), and the baby turned into a Little Miss Mischief Girl while we were away. Her latest trick is to use kitchen table chairs to access the top of the kitchen table. I keep finding her sitting in the center of it. Henry came to us this morning as we prepared for church, and he said, "Mommy, Mommy. Baby has scissors." Ev is our craft diva, so various supplies are often on the table. The baby has poured glue this week, colored her face with black marker, wrapped tape every which way, and shred construction paper. I think there is a window of sweet baby state in which people decide to have another baby. It appears we've just passed that mark with baby Vivian. She's a mess. Olivia got scolded for saying, "Bad baby," to Vivian, so she's changed it up to spell, "B-A-D baby B-A-D baby!!" Vivian is going to learn to spell "bad" pretty quickly, if you know what I mean. Robbie acted devastated this morning when I told him that the start of Children's Church (a.k.a. Baby Jail) was delayed until next Sunday. He spent the entire mass outside the sanctuary with wild Vivian. She was loud before the priest even walked to the altar. When Henry heard us talking about baby jail, he got very upset. "I don't want Vivian to go to jail. I LOVE my sister." The big girls got a big kick out of his misunderstanding.

I'll try not to let so much time pass before I write again.

"You don't need a rainbow pony right now!!!"

Oh, the woes of a mother. Although not a hard and fast rule in our household, I have set the general tone with my four children that if they choose to get out of bed in the middle of the night, then they may return independently to that bed. Henry showed up at my bedside almost an hour ago. I've been trying to go back to sleep without success, and it is 4:20 am. He said, "I can't find my little rainbow pony." My closest friend let him borrow a My Little Pony miniature toy yesterday, and he went to sleep with it. He got Lightning McQueen Striderite Cars shoes that we let him put under his sheets to sleep with too. I try to say, "Yes," when I can. Usually if he wakes up in the night he is pretty quiet (for a 3-year-old boy) and calm. He'll snuggle me for a minute or two until I tell him it is time to go back to his big boy bed. However, he would not rest the issue of the missing pony. My reasoning got me nowhere. Whispered insistence that he be quiet and go to bed failed, and I snapped. Raising one's voice in the vicinity of 3 am in the dark to a distressed child is not very productive. There is a very adult book that has picture storybook illustrations called Go the (blank) to Sleep. Robbie heard about it on talk radio. Part of it has rhymes and depicts our parental love and adoration. The next verses include some well placed profanity which mimics the inner voice of a parent who has reached the limits of patience. I obviously do not swear at my children, but I made it quite clear that I was not going to go on a pony search in the dark, and I conveyed that making a fuss over it was unacceptable.

Henry's latest phrase is, "Can I please be your girl dog, Violet?" She's the neighbor's old dog next door, and Henry goes around on all fours pretending to be my dog. At first he asked to be called Woofy Woof Woof. That is his favorite game right now. He'll then ask, "Am I still your girl dog?" "Do you want to still be my girl dog, Henry?" "Yes, mom." "Okay, then, Violet. You're still my girl dog." This exchange happens something like 87 times a day. Luckily, he has not posed the question in the night, and he only pees in the potty. My typical phrase when Henry shows up next to the bed is, "Go potty." He goes, then he returns. Well, Olivia recently came into my room in the night. I sleep without contacts, so I'm quite blind. I didn't even open my eyes. I just felt an arm and said, "Go potty." Olivia later told me that she thought to herself, "That's odd. Mommy doesn't usually tell me to go potty when I need her in the night, but okay, I'll go." She used the restroom, returned to me, I held her and was so tired that I thought she was Henry the whole time. I can't explain that one, but it is true. She and I laughed to death when we discovered my mistake about her identity.

We watched the Beezus and Ramona movie as a family recently, and a woman married a couple. Evelyn asked why the priest was a girl, and Olivia said, "She's not a priest. She's a weddinger." Love it.

As Robbie and I went to bed one night close to 11 pm, we noticed a light coming from under Henry and Vivian's door. Buddy was responsible for it, and the baby never made a peep. Robbie carefully opened the door, and he said over his shoulder in a frightened whisper, "The baby's not in her bed!" Ha, ha. He gets a thrill out of messing with me, but when I got to the doorway I too saw no baby Vivian. Her crib was devoid of a baby. Robbie crept over the squeaky wooden floorboards to examine the bed. He wondered where Henry had put the baby. She was sleeping horizontal as close to the far end of the bed as possible, and our view of her from the doorway was blocked by a dresser. We breathed sighs of relief, then we tried to control our giggles. I think she was trying to escape the light.

Henry has a dance move that he calls his booty shake. I can't watch it without laughing my head off. He gets his bent arms into it, and he drops lower and moves that tush side to side. This is an original dance move on his part. He has been asked to perform it in various venues, and it always delights the onlookers. Yesterday we finally took a walk outside, and I let Henry run. He saw an approaching elderly lady, and just as she passed us he transitioned from a full run to a sideways stance. He gave three booty shakes, then he was off again at a dead run. She missed it, but I got another good laugh.

Evelyn starts kindergarten next week. How is this possible? She has a new embroidered backpack, and she has worn it all over God's creation to show friends and other shoppers her little owls and does. The "pack-pack" as Vivian calls it, is precious. Evelyn LOVES Vivian, and she keeps picking up the baby. This makes Vivian scream. While out yesterday, Henry said to me, "Mommy, I'm so happy we have our baby." The kids really love her.

Vivian's vocabulary is exploding. She turned 18 months on the 8th, and I am in disbelief that my youngest is one and a half. I don't feel "done" having babies, but with my age and our house logistics, we are likely finished. At a meeting at school last night I saw numerous newborns. I got that baby fever wave of emotion. It was just awful. Anyhow, Vivian's most adorable word is cupcake. She says it like this, "cuh-CAAAke." Her term defines anything sweet, from a healthy morning muffin to a cookie or ice cream. She says it like she's from Georgia, Robbie says. She is so cute I could scream.

Well, folks. That's all I've got. Maybe now my racing mind can rest.

Michigan

Everything is a contest, and all of my moves are measured by the big girls. A few minutes ago, Evelyn said, "If I was covered with ants, and Olivia was covered with worms, who would you kiss first?" I said, "Henry."

We recently took a 788 mile road trip with the kids to Michigan. We spent one night in a hotel, and Robbie suggested we rearrange the pillows, sheets and blankets so that the kids could sleep sideways on the bed. It was plenty wide to accommodate the length of our children, and they looked precious.

The next afternoon we stopped at the Wojo's place, and Henry was in heaven with all of the boys' toys. Brecken and Tanner made Henry's day by giving him some Lightning McQueen blue PJs (which he wore each night of vacation), a Cars pillowcase and wallet, and a Mater toy. We had fun with our friend, but stopping at their house instead of going to Dad's in Springfield made the Saturday drive to Michigan much longer. What should have taken 8 hours of driving plus stops ended up taking over 11 hours. The ridiculous part is that we went 4 hours before we ever stopped the first time, then we only made two short stops. The time change resulted in us arriving at the condo at 8:15 pm. Grandpa Tom and Uncle Anthony were waiting for us in the parking lot, and Grandma Jane had managed to keep dinner waiting for us for several hours. That ready-to-go meal was a blessing.

Henry has some Stride Rite open, strappy, tennis shoe style sandals that have developed a terrible odor this summer. Whenever he removed his shoes in the van, Robbie and I would catch a whiff, start frowning, then realize we were smelling Henry's stinky feet. It was terrible. At one point when baby wipes did nothing to touch the stench in the van, I doused little guy's feet in Midnight Pomegranate hand gel. Later, when we came upon a horse trailer on I-80, which was stop and go for way too long, Henry said, "I wish we had a horse in our trunk."

We experienced absolutely glorious weather during our entire vacation. The temp was only as high as the low 80s, and the skies were beautiful. We spent a lot of time at the beach with cousins and other relatives, and Robbie buried Olivia in the sand again. Henry was not paying attention, and he walked right on top of the sand that was over her chest. Vivian looked very worried when only Olivia's head was visible above the sand. She was afraid to be put down on the sand at first, but before long she enjoyed walking along the water's edge with Mommy and digging with a bucket and shovel in wet sand. She's so cute.

We went to the annual July 4th parade in the pretty Victorian port city of Manistee, Michigan, and Henry made a few mad dashes into the street for candy that wasn't thrown far enough to reach him. The girls made a haul, and the baby just chilled out in her stroller during the whole parade.

Evelyn amazed my brother and dad with her wild girl strength and speed on the beach playground's monkey bars. Lightning McQueen says, "I am speed." Evelyn was speed. I think Olivia's high point may have been our canoe trip. She rode with Grandpa Tom and Uncle Anthony, and they stopped to switch positions at one point so she could paddle. Our little Olivia looked like such a big shot. Henry and Evelyn were in a canoe with Robbie and me, and they spoke barely five words. I think they were afraid we would tip our canoe. I guess my warnings registered. Robbie and I don't get along too well while in a canoe. The river was jam packed with hundreds of people in kayaks, some floating on tubes, and there were many other canoes. It felt as though my husband was aiming for the other watercraft, and I wanted to smack him with my oar. I actually did splash him a time or two. We saw a black bear warning sign that suggested parents use caution and keep their children close. At one point Robbie said, "Look! It's a black bear." It was a little black poodle, and I laughed hard. When Ev said, "That's a bear? It looks like a little dog," I laughed even harder. Grandma Jane kept Vivian from 10:45 am until almost 8 pm, and we had a great day because of her willingness to stay home with baby.

After the canoe trip we went to Sleeping Bear Dunes and did a dune climb. The first part was 110 feet, and it was a hard climb if we tried to take it very fast. The kids ran up, then once I was up to Robbie's level, they turned without permission and ran down partway. Robbie said, "Go get them, and make them come back. I want us to go up higher." I did it, but I found the children in three different states. Once told to come back up, Evelyn collapsed into the sandy hill, and burst into exhausted tears in a hot temper tantrum. Olivia did a U-turn and started after her daddy. Henry took off in a third direction over a grassy hill. I sent Evelyn back to Aunt Jean. I took the other two back to where we left Robbie. The re-climb was extra tiring, and I became upset when I discovered that my husband was gone. He had continued to climb without waiting for us. I let Olivia run ahead only as far as I could see her, and I helped Henry. He got really, really red in the face. At one point he said, "Mama, I sooo tired. Can I take a nap?" We were in the middle of a hill. I laughed and held his hand. Up we went until we found Robbie, Uncle Ant, and Uncle Dave. The view was very nice, and the shade was even better. The most hilarious part of our vacation came next. Henry started running down the hills at breakneck speed. His legs moved fast, but he lost control and faceplanted when he was almost to the bottom. Sand clung to his eyelashes, and some got inside his mouth. His sweaty face was covered in sand, and he just didn't know what hit him.

We played Farkle with Ant, my step-sister, Melissa, her husband, Jonah, and cousin Ed with wife Jeni until almost 1 am one night. Jane stayed with the kids who had been put to bed, and my dad looked really tired when we returned to our condo. It was so much fun to have a chance to hang out without kiddos, and we appreciated the late night babysitting. When we told the big girls about the dice game, they started making up nicknames for everyone. Farkle Junior. Farkle Breath. We laughed a lot about the Farkle names.

We always walked to the beach, and one day I got to run on the pier, around the lighthouse, through the marina, and down the road by the lake with my little brother. It was a beautiful day, and I said a prayer of thanks for Anthony's health and presence in my life and the lives of my children. I think he really enjoys Miss Evelyn. He recorded her as she spotted a small fish on the pier. That little girl picked up the struggling fish and flung it back into the lake (surely against the wishes of the fisherman who had left it there to keep it from eating the eggs of other "good" fish). We told her that she saved the fish's life, and she looked very pleased with herself. She found two more fish left to die on the pier, and she helped them. Olivia may have the heart to help a gross fish, but only Evelyn has the nerve to pick one up.

To avoid the terrible traffic, Robbie got us up at 4 am the day we had to depart. We left the condo parking lot at 5:11 am. Not too far down the road, Henry said, "Do you smell what I smell? I don't want to smell poop." There was something disgusting outside the van in the air, and it got to poor Henry. He made us laugh even though everyone was tired.

We enjoyed our time with Daddy away from work. It was a pleasure to enjoy evening meals with 16 of us together. The children had such fun with their cousins. On the final evening of our trip, my cousin, Paul, brought his young chickens to my uncle's house. I wish I had video of Evelyn trying to catch them. Vivian kept yelling, "Bird!" Olivia held one briefly, then Henry took a turn. The chickens were really small and cute, and it was wild that my kids were chasing chickens around a yard. What fun memories we made.

"Down, down, down, down, down."

Evelyn and Olivia just got the brilliant idea to give Evelyn a cast from hand to elbow with clear packing tape. (Lots and lots of clear packing tape) Evelyn entered the room crying loudly, and she was wrapped like a mummy with layered tape stuck every which way. I was not please for I had just asked her to stop using so much of my Scotch tape on her art projects. She made a paper pillow, stuffed with more paper, and covered in purple marker which rubbed off on her hands and my bathroom rug. She keeps getting the stapler, and I've found three staples on the floor after her work is done. One of us will find a staple in the foot someday soon. I'm just waiting. The tape hurt coming off of Ev's arm, and I don't think the girls will try that trick again soon. Where do kids come up with their ideas? I never thought to say, "Don't use packing tape to cast your arm, or your hairs will get pulled off when the tape is removed." Olivia "helped" her. Olivia is the one who falls to pieces when Band-Aids are removed, so her plan to help Evelyn is of great interest to me.

Yesterday Vivian quit nursing. She simply refused the breast at morning and bedtime. I wept. Each time around I have loved that quiet closeness with my baby, and I mourn the end of this period. It is entirely possible that I will never again nurse a little baby, and I'm saddened to tears by the thought. She actually said, "Down, down, down, down, DOWN!" as she attempted to scramble off of my lap. I even got shoved. She wanted nothing to do with mama's milk. She then started calling for Robbie. He's been her #1 lately. She said, "Bye Daddy!" the other morning as he raced around trying to get out the door. My almost late husband stopped dead in his fast tracks, picked up his precious youngest child, and gave her some love before he left. She yelled out, "Doggy! Doggy!!" in the night recently, and Robbie went to her. I guess her self weaning means that he can get up with her in the mornings when I awake to, "Mommmmy," in the 6 o'clock hour on Saturday morning. She is my alarm. Once Henry noticed that I was crying last night, he tried to comfort me. He asked me, "Why is your face like that?" I explained that Vivian didn't want to nurse anymore, and he said, "Oh, now we don't have a baby ANY MORE. Maybe Daddy can make you feel better and get you some medicine." He can be so sweet.

Henry can also drive me wild. The boy is trying to give up his nap. I have put him everywhere I can think of for naptime, except in a closed dresser drawer. He can't co-sleep with Vivian at naptime or he keeps her awake for a very, very long time. Robbie insists our son needs Velcro PJs that will stick him to his sheets. Maybe. I'd try it. I go and go with the children, but every mama (and the children) can benefit from some quiet time. I don't have a space that is safe to give Henry quiet time away from me, and this is a dilemma. That said, it is almost 3 pm, and I'm blogging. He finally fell asleep today. Granted, we took a walk, went to the park, he had swimming lessons, then we enjoyed a backyard picnic and playtime. He should have been tired. It wasn't easy, but he finally crashed.

Robbie is really quite wonderful. The more I know, the more I realize how lucky I am to have him. He's been taking bike rides with the big girls. He grills out for me whenever I ask. He took all four kids to the playground recently while I cleaned up the dinner dishes and got ready for a bible study evening away. I even had time to fold laundry and put it away. He makes us Sunday pancakes with special recipes from scratch. I saw the look in his eyes when I told him Vivian wouldn't nurse, and he got it. He held me and let me cry. He didn't dismiss my emotions or act like I was a silly woman. He reminded me how lucky I am to have nourished our babies for as long as I did. He's a good man.

Guess what? Evelyn just said that Henry is up, and that means mama's writing time is all gone.

Quotes From My World

It has been so long since I've taken time to write that I'm going to change up my format for you, Reader. I plan to highlight some of my favorite quotes from the kids as of late.

"Henry, you can pee standing up like a man. You wear undies. You sleep in a big boy bed. You are almost all the way grown." - by Evelyn

"Yaya, Yaya! Help!! I'm in the dark bathroom." We found Henry with fake stick on rainbow colored fingernails. His hands were outstretched, fingers wide, and he couldn't turn the doorknob. He had on CARS PJs. "I really like girl nails."

"I'm going to get us four more Super Soakers." Robbie's plan after Dad and Jane brought the kids a box of sports and outdoor fun items that they got at a charity auction, including a Super Soaker. Robbie did it. We now have five.

"Do NOT squirt the baby in the face!!!" My words to you know who.

"Mommy, Vivian speaks Spanish or maybe China." Ev's comment after Vivian let out a string of babble that sounded as if she was really trying to tell us something important.

"Now we have seen two naked men." Evelyn whispered this indignantly during Olivia's dance recital in which children from preschool through high school performed for over two hours.

"Vivian can say, "Banana, cheeze, this, that, these, ball, baby, Mommy, Daddy, Yaya, up, down, done, out, fish, finished, doggy." This was Olivia's answer to her pediatrician's question to me regarding if Vivian is saying any words. Olivia answered a question directed to me about Henry too. I told her doctor, "Henry has two mamas." Doctor said, "Henry needs two mamas."

"Up, Mom-meee!" Vivian switched from calling me mama to mommy last week. Now she seems almost all the way grown.

"Mommy, I love you so much." Henry's final words to me this evening after I tucked him into his big boy bed after his first day of skipping a nap. He's been messing around bothering Vivian to no end during their afternoon naptime lately. I'm terrified that he is trying to give up his nap, and I told Robbie, "I can't go 13 hours without a break from Henry."

"I LOVE my tight Lightning PJs." The fitted ones that are slightly too short all over are his favorite ones. He keeps thanking me for laundering them for him, which I adore.

I said, "Why are you screaming?" to Evelyn. She said, "He's trying to throw a mammoth on me."

We were almost out the door. A babysitter was three minutes from arriving. Evelyn started screaming as though something catastrophic had happened. Robbie and I rushed to the scene. We found Evelyn in the bathroom, Henry without any pants, and pee spray soaked various non-toilet surfaces. A puddle stood on the floor. "Henry peed on me FEET!!!!" I had to escape around the corner to conceal my laughter. I then ended up on hands and knees in my party clothes wiping pee while Robbie cleaned Evelyn in the tub. I figured out from the trajectory of the mess that Henry had turned toward Evelyn, who was standing on a stool brushing her teeth, while he was mid-stream. He did not enter the bathroom and pee on her feet as she had led us to believe.

"Done. Fished (with full arm sign language). Down." Baby Vivian's words to me after she is "finished" nursing.

"Hi, Yaya!" or "Mommy, out." Baby's words when we enter her room after she's awake from a nap.

"You are the most beautiful and kind mutha (mother) in the whole wide world." Evelyn says something along these lines when she crawls into bed with me first thing in the morning while I am still terribly drowsy. Her voice is always low and soothing, and I pull her little body near me for a warm cuddle.

"Where's Henry?" Henry kept taking off on us at a farm outing this weekend. My brother was with us, and the three of us adults could not keep close tabs on our wild man. He is busy, curious, and fast. At one point he hopped off of the wooden platform and attempted to climb onto a pony before the school girl could even help him. He was the definition of big shot, and he got his full $3 of enjoyment out of his figure eight trip through the field while riding the slow pony.

"AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" Uncle Anthony handed Olivia a paper bag of animal feed while she was inside a pen of goats, and she got pressed up against the fence by seven hungy ones. One put his front hooves on her chest, and she started screaming for help. She was quite terrified.

37

Yesterday was my birthday. Robbie secretly prepared a lovely big breakfast, and I was thrilled to walk into the kitchen to find hot coffee already made. My day was nice. One of Robbie's patients left two roses in my front door, and another delivered a chocolate birthday cake. We all thought it was quite yummy. I'm a lucky lady. I enjoyed my kids all day, but I was really ready for some time alone with Robbie once our babysitter arrived.

We went to dinner at a place called Bluestem. I have a few friends who are amazing cooks. Becky mentioned Bluestem once when my brother was in town looking for a wonderful place to take his boss. Their website made the restaurant look inviting, and I made a birthday reservation. I instantly loved the place. Our food was placed on a granite placemat, and the room was simple, yet very nice. The menu was set up in courses, and we had to ask our very polite waitress for a translation. Our selections turned out to be amazing, and I can honestly say that I have never in all my life eaten food that was more exquisitely placed on my plate. Robbie was in heaven with the way the flavors blended and complemented one another. I was struck by the fact that the husband wife chef couple/owners saw food as an art and placed it on our plates as such. Tiny edible flowers gave a hint of lavender color. Dollops of pureed vegetables were dropped or drizzled on the plate like paint strokes. I can't even describe how lovely it looked or how impressed I was by every aspect of our food. Each course was delicious and absolutely amazingly beautiful. The price of our food reflected the thought and effort that the chefs put into its preparation, so we will not soon become regulars. However, my 37th birthday dinner was fabulous, and I won't soon forget it.

The Long and Short of It

Wednesday, May 18th - Olivia holds 13 1/2 inches of pigtails.

First Communion on April 30th. I loved her long curls.

This photo was taken today, May 17th, after school. I undid two long braids and tried to smooth things a bit.

The grandparents for whom this blog was started will recall that my first entry described Evelyn cutting off the hair of a little friend who had been growing her hair to donate to Locks of Love. This cool organization makes wigs for children who are bald. Olivia decided many months ago that she really wanted to give her hair to a child who needed some. This was hard for me to swallow, because I've always had long hair. Plus, I may be Olivia's mother, but her hair is more than just a little special. It is pretty amazing. I told her she had to wait until after First Communion before she could donate her hair, and she's been patiently waiting ever since Robbie and I gave her the go ahead.

The days leading up to today's hair donation are a story all their own. I finally got Olivia an appointment this afternoon at an upscale and very reputable salon near our home. Minutes after getting worked into their cancellation list, I spoke with a friend whose daughters have donated their hair. My friend explained that a children's salon in the area provides complimentary haircuts for girls cutting ten or more inches off for Locks of Love on Tuesdays. Low and behold, today is Tuesday. Some of you know that my husband is very particular about the girls' hair. When I told him the good news about how I could cancel the pricey salon haircut for the Sugar and Spice one, he sounded concerned. He encouraged me to just take Olivia to the place where the stylists likely had the most training and pay the money this one time. Daddy spoke. We listened.

Evelyn went with us, and she said, "Does that guy have a mohawk?" The answer was yes. The hair stylist was nice. The lady at the front told us he had experience cutting for Locks of Love, and she said he was an amazing stylist. The girl who scheduled Olivia said the man cuts her hair, along with her whole family. "I'm all about (his name)!!! He's incredible." I felt good about all that I heard. We discussed the plan. Olivia had to donate at least ten inches. If you look at the photos, then you'll see that she had plenty. Her hair stretched to the waistband of the skirt she wore, and we were really excited. Truth be told, I was so nervous that I felt a little off. I got tears in my eyes as we waited for Olivia's turn, and another stylist assured me that Olivia's hair was so long that ten inches wouldn't seem like anything. She said, "It will still look long." Once she was in the chair, the stylist and I discussed the plan. We agreed that a bob would be a good look for the final cut. Olivia said she wanted twelve inches off, and I firmly said, "No, twelve will make it too short. She only needs to donate ten. MAYBE eleven. I don't want her hair to stop at her ears." Famous last words.

He put her hair into two low pigtails. I asked him if he was going to measure, and he said he would. I think he "measured" with a comb that had a length he knew. He started sawing away at her thick, golden hair, and I had to bury my face into the back of Evelyn's head. My heart raced. When he handed me the first clump of hair, I felt kind of sick. After he handed me the second one, and I saw how short the hair at the very back of her neck was, I went into internal panic mode with self talk. I told myself that he was good. He knew how to take what looked like a mistake and turn it into a styled hairdo. Honestly, her hair was a horrible mess at the back. It was 50 different lengths, and some of them were horrendously short. Nothing fell anywhere near her shoulder. "What just happened?" I asked myself. I told him what we wanted. What did he do? Why in the hell are some of the pieces so short?!

He shampooed her hair, then went to work with the scissors. He cut. He cut some more. Evelyn whispered to me, "Her hair looks like a boy's. This guy does NOT know what he's doing. I'm scared for Olivia." I kept trusting. I waited. Then I started fuming. Honest to goodness, I started playing over and over the words in my mind, "If you cut her hair ANY SHORTER I am going to hurt you with those SCISSORS!!!!!" He could clearly cut hair and give it a good shape (thank God), but he had messed up with the initial cut of the length. When we got home I measured that he cut 13 1/2 inches! I was fuming as he cut, and I kept casting angry looks at the stylists around us. "Do you see what he's done?!" my eyes cried. Pretty soon he finished. His back had been to me throughout the cut. He said, "Well, Mom. What do you think?" I looked him square in the eye, then I turned to my precious daughter. "YOU are gorgeous." Then I turned back to him, "But THAT is NOT a bob!!" He basically then asked me to define a bob for him. I put my hand to the base of my neck and moved it all the way around. "A BOB is like this! It isn't cut up to her ears." He calmly explained that her hair couldn't have been left that long if he had to cut off ten inches. WHAT-EVER!! I couldn't fix it. He knew I was not pleased. I didn't want Olivia to think that she didn't look perfectly fine, so I just said, "Okay," took the hands of my girls, turned away from him, and walked to the checkout. The smiling lady waiting to take my payment did not receive a smile from me. I stated our name. He followed us, and he told her that Olivia's hair did not turn out the way I wanted, so there would be no charge. I thought that was good of him, because I believe he knew as soon as he cut that first pigtail that he had gone too short. He had to just carry on and try to pull off a save. To his credit, he gave Olivia a very, very cute super short haircut. We just didn't go there for a super short haircut. We went there to make the life of a little child suffering from baldness a tad bit better, and we hoped to leave with shorter hair that was simple and cute. He also styled Olivia's hair and blew it dry with a big round brush. That got me all worked up too, because I told him I have four kids and needed Olivia to have a wash and go cut for her naturally curly hair. I knew her short hair would look even shorter once it dried curly. I was so mad that I was about to cry. I didn't trust myself to speak reasonably, and plenty of profanities were running through my head. I took the hands of my girls and left without another word once our bill was dismissed. Evelyn went off once we were outside about how much of Olivia's hair he had cut off. I told Olivia that she is beautiful and looks super cute. I just explained that I thought he didn't listen to me and cut her hair way shorter than we discussed. Should I have gone to the salon with my own measuring tape? A friend who is a patron of the salon gave us the suggestion in the first place, and I felt like I should have been in good hands.

I dreaded the drive home. Robbie hasn't been totally thrilled about Locks of Love. We are obviously proud of our young child for being so big hearted and empathetic. Olivia is amazing. Henry stopped dead in his tracks in the garage when he saw Olivia, and he said, "Vivia! Why did you get your hair cut like a boy?" He looked nervous. The baby was uneasy too. She kept looking warily at Olivia. Robbie let out a shocked, "Whoa!" or something, then he scooped up his big girl and told her how cute she looked. When she broke down in tears about the short length, he knelt down with her and very sincerely talked to her about the gift she was providing to another child who had no hair. I love him so much, and he said just the right words in that moment. We told him the whole story, which also included two trips to the restroom for Evelyn. It was dimly lit to set a spa mood, and a large photo of a red lipsticked open mouth hung over the potty. She said, "Get me out of here. This room freaks me out." She was so scared that she didn't finish going potty, which was why we had to go back four minutes later. Oh, to be five years old again.

Olivia had a bath, and her curls were drying as we tucked her into bed. She looks darling. I'm really proud of her, and I know we will never forget this day. We laughed, and I animatedly told her exactly what I'd say to the stylist should she ever decide to donate her hair again. I was stern and precise and didn't mess around with my words. I was tough mama, and the girls giggled.

Maybe God decided to wink at us today. "Hey, Julie. It's just hair," He had to remind me. "It will grow. Lighten up." Plus, some sweet little girl is out there right now without hair. Because of the snip happy stylist, that child will have an extra long, super lovely wig made with long, wavy, beautiful golden locks from the head of a child I love. Also, this experience gives us an opportunity to emphasize the fact that Olivia is beautiful on the inside, and she's beautiful no matter what kind of hair style she wears. Everything will be okay.

Peace Out, Colorado!!

This morning when I went to the girls' school to volunteer in preschool and second grade I never imagined that I would have to sing a punk rock version of The Wheels on the Bus to Olivia's class. Yes, it's true. Her Birthday Book was called Punk Farm on Tour. Her teacher suggested I look it over before the children sat on the reading carpet, and I had to chuckle on the inside as the realization hit that I could not get by with the typical Wheels on the Bus tune for this crazy book. The lead singer sheep in the illustrations totally rocks out on stage, and the pig has an electric guitar and what look to be groupies. One goat said to another animal, "Chill, homie." The band's mode of transporation is a rock van, and they wear their sunglasses at night. I didn't hold back as I belted out....typed as in the book, "ALL THROUGH THE TOWWNNNNN!! YE-OW!!" I then raised my voice for the next page, "Peace Out, Colorado!" I've always wanted to be a rock star. My point is that this parenting thing is unpredictable. I knew I'd get to read a story today, but I didn't know I'd need a a sense of humor and a good deal of self confidence to get through a little children's book. Olivia loved my vocals, and thankfully, I did not embarrass her. Even the boys seemed to think the story was cool, and I had their attention. What fun!

Okay, Reader, so my question is as follows: Does Henry's newfound ability to stand up while peeing outweigh his knowledge of Taylor Swift Love Story song lyrics? Hmmm??? Ev got a CD for her birthday in early April, and I think we now know all of the songs. I often hear Henry singing, "You be the prince, and I'll be the princess. It's a love story, baby just say YES!!" I've also heard something about, "I can't help it if you look like an angel. Can't help it if I want to kiss you in a rain storm." Are we ruining our son, or will he turn out romantic and have the rare ability to understand women? Time will tell. He's so cute at the potty though. He is just barely tall enough to clear the bowl while standing on the ground, and he's clearly impressed with his "pee pee hose" talent. On another boy note, my son has been enjoying his CARS PJs. However, my appreciation for two identical pairs took a southern turn once I realized that he layered two tops and two bottoms this evening after his bath. I imagined that he'd always have a clean pair of his favorite PJs, but this won't be the case if he carries out his heart's desire to wear as much Lightning McQueen as possible...all at once. Henry has also decided that his possession of a new CARS backpack means he needs to go to high school. He has asked me 143 times each day, "Can I go to high school now?" When we get into the van he'll say, "Are you taking me to high school?" "Yes, someday, Henry."

Henry and baby Vivian (who is totally walking now!) have been messing around for a long time at naptime. He climbs in and out of his crib at will, and she squeals as he entertains her and throws toys into her bed. The other day I entered the room to find the baby topless. She wore only a mini skirt over her bulky diaper. Henry claimed she took off her own shirt, but I have my doubts. His big blue eyes looked guilty.

Olivia will soon donate her hair to Locks of Love for use to make a wig for children who are bald. Robbie has a system for washing and grooming her hair, and she asked me with total sincerity, "Mommy, will whoever gets my hair use Foxy Curls so their hair will look really nice?" I looked at her innocent face and gave her the tightest squeeze she could tolerate. God bless my sweet chlid.

My baby is walking. Yesterday she'd propel herself forward, then she'd lose her balance slightly and take a couple of tiny steps backwards until her upper body and legs aligned again. She looked like she was walking on a ship on rough water. She looked so stinking cute. We are all so happy for Vivian. She's our latest walker at 15 months. Her baby boy playgroup friends who are just weeks apart from her in age are now roller blading. Seriously, though, they've been walking since winter. Her siblings lug her around, so why walk? After three nights of interrupted sleep I took her to the pediatrician to have her ears checked. I knew she had three teeth coming through her gums, but the doctor saw swelling by her molars too. She's about to cut six teeth at once. For the love of God, please pray for us. I don't want her to hurt, and I want all of us to sleep. Two nights ago she let loose so hysterically with her screaming that it brought Robbie out of bed in the middle of the night. He found me on the kitchen floor trying to wrestle ibuprofen into my furious baby's mouth. It takes a lot of racket to get Robbie up at such a terrible hour. Vivian is so into Daddy right now that as soon as he held her she immediately quit screaming. He put her back to bed. However, he didn't give her the medicine, and she woke me up again with her crying again in the night. Oh, well. Who needs sleep? Oh, right. Mothers of four young children can really use some sleep.

This evening thoughtful Evelyn asked if we could sing Happy Birthday to Olivia. Tomorrow is the true day, Robbie explained to her. She looked sad, so we modified the song to Happy Day Before Your Birthday to You!!! as we ate strawberries and angel food cake.

My new goal came from inspiration taken from Taylor Swift. She has a line in a song that says, "Capture it. Remember it." When I hear those words I am reminded to live fully. Each day is a gift. Life can change in a moment, and every evening I want to be able to say to my children and husband another line from one of her songs, "I had the best day with you today."

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day!

I'm going to take a few minutes to write while my sweet husband cooks our brunch. The girls are expected to arrive soon from their time away at the hotel. We enjoyed a nice mass with just Henry and Vivian. They did okay. On Easter the masses were absolutely packed. The 7:30 am one let out as the 9 am church goers attempted to fill the building. We agreed that Robbie would drop me off with the three bigger kids to secure our pew, while Robbie parked and brought the baby inside. We had to stand around as the parishioners left the church, then we slipped into a side door and made our way to our usual seats. A few minutes passed as Robbie tried to find a parking spot in the congested lot. Finally, I looked over my shoulder and saw Robbie approaching. The girls saw him too. "Where's VIVIAN?!" I worriedly asked. The look on my calm, cool, and collected husband's face was priceless. He never looks panicked, but that day his face registered shock and concern. He'd left her all alone in the van. He rushed out to save the baby, and we girls giggled in our seats. The people behind said, "That must have been a very funny joke." We shared Daddy's mishap, and they got a chuckle too. The really funny part of the story is that Robbie found Vivian just hanging out in her carseat sucking her thumb with her blankey. She wasn't the least bit upset. I've said again and again that Vivian is the best baby I've ever had. This seals the deal. She's so easy going. However, during that mass Robbie wore a tie. Something came over baby Vivian, and she kept attacking Robbie's tie knot with her little fingernails. She acted kind of crazed with her tenacious grabs, and Robbie looked at me as if to ask, "What is wrong with our baby right now?" Luckily, such moments are rare.

Henry on the other hand always keeps us hopping. We attended a Saturday evening mass a month ago, and he slipped his hand quickly up the back of Olivia's skirt and lifted it higher than her bottom. Her panties flashed the people sitting behind us, and for once we weren't seated in the second to last row of the church. Olivia wanted to sink into the floor, and she wanted to take Henry with her. She was not pleased with him, but she saw the humor in the situation. I think our eyes were as big as saucers. Robbie has been busily planting flowers and vegetables for me as a Mother's Day gift. Henry managed to step on the front and center flower plant in the bed, and Robbie was very frustrated. Everything had been measured and planned, and my son snapped it to the ground.

When Dad and Jane joined us for Olivia's 2nd Holy Communion the Sunday after her sacrament, I asked them to help me by getting Henry from the Children's Church room. Apparently, he backed into the corner of the room, cried, and wailed, "I want my MOMMY!" He didn't want to leave with them, and the mother volunteer teacher asked, "Who are you?" "I'm Julie's dad," he said. My brother was there too, and they somehow got Henry out of the building. He has been attached to me to a fault lately. He cries whenever I leave him, and there is no talking him out of his fits. He will even flip out when I run five minutes away to grab the girls from dance class while he's with Robbie.

Henry sometimes amazes me in a wonderful way. My little guy was given a Lightning McQueen wrapped gift box on Tuesday from Dad and Jane. He slept with it, carried it around the house, held it in the van, and sat with it in the house for days. He was told he could open it on his birthday, and he knew his birthday had not arrived. On the morning of May 6th, his whole family entered his room to sing Happy Birthday. He looked so incredibly happy. Once we finished our song his first words were, "May I please open my present now?" Luckily, he found a CARS book inside. He was really thrilled.

On the morning of Henry's birthday he told multiple people at the grocery store where we picked up his CARS cake that he was the birthday boy. He can be pretty charming with those big baby blues. One lady gave him a high five and wished him at least another 97 happy years. I thought that was the nicest wish. He can retire his flannel CARS PJs until the weather turns cool again. He received some new springtime PJs, and he happily wore them. He has new slippers like his big boy friend Owen too, and that made his day.

Vivian took her first steps on April 23rd. Her whole family witnessed the event, and we clapped for her excitedly. She can pretty much run with her baby stroller walker, but this weekend she took many baby steps. Her feet are tiny, and her steps really are baby steps. They are quick and close together. She can take five steps and travel one foot. It is very funny. She also claps for herself after she walks. We taught her to do so, I suppose.

Well, many hours have passed since I saved this draft. I had a lovely day with my family. Robbie's from scratch blueberry pancakes and eggs with fresh ingredients were amazing. I got a nap and an hour or so to tool around the Plaza all by myself. I snuggled and read to my chldren at bedtime. I love my children. I cherish my husband. All is good in my little world. I'm blessed with good women who received my Mother's Day wishes, and I hope their day was lovely too.

Oh Where Oh Where Has My Blankey Gone?

I'm in trouble. Robbie and I were enjoying a rare quiet evening when the phone rang and Olivia explained that Evelyn had forgotten to take her blankey to the hotel for her special birthday weekend with Ninnie and Great-Aunt Connie. Robbie is saving the night by making a special delivery. That was a major rookie mistake, yet I am no rookie.

Henry turned three today. He called this his Lightning Birthday. He's obsessed with all things CARS and Lightning McQueen, and he was blessed with many fun gifts in that department today. Uncle Anthony gave him a backpack that he wore while taking his afternoon nap. I control the clothing options in this house, but today I allowed Henry to remain in his favorite flannel CARS PJs all day and evening. He wore them to school to drop off and pick up sisters. He wore them to the grocery store to pick up his Lightning cake. He wore them to the park for some birthday fun. It was fine, and he was in heaven.

Well, my man has returned, and I must pause for now. More details will follow, because this was a blessing of a day for our family.

The Big Race Day

I am so excited. I just sat down to our computer, and Robbie had left the weekend's 4 mile race results up for me to view. This morning he said, "Guess who came in first in the 5 year old category?" It was Evelyn!! He then said, "Guess who was the fastest 7 year old girl?" OLIVIA!! Here's the story.

Olivia has now been a runner in four Trolley Runs. This is a four mile race, and it is a lot of fun. She did the first one just before she turned 4 years old. We have enjoyed the race so much that we intend to make it a family event each year. The race raises money for a school for children who have visual impairments.

Grandpa Mike runs marathons, so he has eagerly awaited the chance to run with Olivia. The plan was for Mike and Robbie to run with Olivia, I'd run with Evelyn, and Mom would stay home with Henry and Vivian. We had to leave our house at 6:30 am. The morning was very chilly. I think the temp was barely out of the 50s. We all had bare legs and two layers on top. The girls wore timing devices on their shoes to capture their pace, and they had yellow bibs with individual numbers like big shots. Evelyn seemed very nervous. As we stood in the yellow wave for slower runners waiting to start, she said, "I want to go home now. I'm cold." I explained she wouldn't feel cold once she started running.

We all began together, but as expected, Olivia and the guys left us after about 1/4 mile. Evelyn did really well. She ran in a straight path. She ran at a pretty good clip, and she didn't get too tired. Just as with Olivia back in 2007, when Evelyn wanted to stop, I carried her as fast as I could walk. We didn't stop. We either walked fast or we jogged. After we hit the first mile marker my darling said, "This is one of the most fun things I've EVER done!" We said a little prayer of thankfulness. After we hit the third mile marker of the four mile race she said, "This is the hardest thing I have EVER done!" I believe both statements were true, and I felt great love and much happiness.

The time came when Evelyn really wanted to quit running. I urged her to continue. I praised her outstanding effort. I gave her some more breaks as I carried her, first against my chest hug style, and then on my back. Those short stretches were the toughest parts of the race for me. We had only seen a few short runners, nobody as little as Ev, during the race. Ahead of us, roughly 1/2 mile from the finish line, we saw a sleek duo. The mom was tall and lean. She wore a black cap, black runner's tank, and black tights. Her daughter was also dressed in all black. The girl had a good two heads on Evelyn. During Olivia's first race, I used an old crew cut grandpa and his tired grandson as motivation for Olivia to finish well. Evelyn needed a good old fashioned pep talk to motivate her and spark her competitive spirit. The girls in black were God's wink to me. "Evelyn, do you see that little girl up ahead in black?" She did. "Do you want to beat her?" My peanut's eyes lit up. "Okay, Ev. You can do it, but we have to run." She tried harder. She quickly got tired, and the gap remained. They were half a block ahead of us. Evelyn surged ahead, then almost dropped to a walk. She was tired. I made my decision. I bent down and told her to hop on my back. Up she jumped, and I took off at a dead run. I ran until we were even with the mother-daughter pair. I then put Evelyn back on the road, and I whispered, "Okay, we're even now. If you want to beat her, then it is all up to you. You have to run." Evelyn RAN!!!! We crossed the bridge. She was tired, but she kept going. "I want to see Olivia," she pouted. "She's waiting for you at the finish line. Keep running. We're almost there!" She continued. She slowed. That's when we heard a voice that rang out with excitement and happiness...."EVELYN!!!!!!!!!" It was her daddy, and he was ahead on the sidelines cheering loudly with sister and grandpa. They started screaming for Evelyn, and she kicked it into high gear downhill toward the finish. Her stride was long and her form looked amazing. Her pretty hair blew behind her in the wind. I half thought she was going to run straight to her dad and stop, but luckily I was wrong. I gave her more encouragement as spectators saw the tiny runner and cheered loudly. Cow bells rang. Hands clapped. Electric energy abounded, and joy filled our hearts. My sweet little girl crossed the finish line in 51 minutes 23 seconds. That was a 12:51 pace. She really did come in first in her age group, boys and girls considered. Olivia ran a 10:05 minute mile. She cut her time by 5 minutes from last year, and her time was 40 minutes 17 seconds. One boy her age beat her and one ran three seconds faster. Robbie said that he and Mike were astounded by her speed and ability to maintain it over the long distance. These little girls are amazing. Their daddy is so proud of them. I am so thankful for their strong healthy bodies and determined spirits. God has blessed us, and He is so good.

M-A-D-E-I-N-C-H-I-N-A

Yesterday I decided to grant Evelyn's wish to shop with some Grandpa Tom and Grandma Jane birthday money for clothes for her American Girl doll. I picked her up from school, we exchanged her check for dollar bills at the bank, then we headed a bit of a distance to a doll shop. On our way Henry noticed a building painted with a mural of fish, dogs, and other pets. He said, "I want to go see the fishies!!!!" I told him, "Not right now. We are going to the doll shop for Evelyn." This didn't go over well, because the large pets painted all over the building beckoned to my young son. By the time we got to the shop he was really mad. He was so upset that he refused to get out of the van. I decided to carry Vivian and let Henry walk, since the place was small and we were parked directly in front of the main door. Not using my stroller was a mistake. I physically overpowered him to get him out of his carseat and into the store while carrying the baby. At that point he pretty much lost it. He went limp, collapsed to the floor, wailed, and kicked his feet. I stepped around him, asked the saleslady to please excuse my crying son, and told Evelyn to shop. He was so loud. I was embarrassed. Ev was embarrassed. The two workers just ignored him and one later told me she'd been there before. I apologized and told her we were too far from home to turn around and leave because of his tantrum. "He'll stop," I said. He cried for 60 minutes. No, I know it felt that long, but my guess is six minutes. He then got up and found the Bitty Baby in a baseball uniform. From there he noticed a clown doll to which he said, "That doll scares me." Evelyn picked skinny pink jeans, a retro shirt, and sequined flip flops for Julie. She was thrilled with her purchase, and she counted out the money to pay the cashier. The lady gave Ev a birthday gift in a sack. She unwrapped it in the van, and I said, "What does it say?" I thought the little mug had words wrapping around it. I laughed when she spelled M-A-D-E-I-N-C-H-I-N-A. I told her what it spelled, and she said, "Oh, is this a China cup?" She's heard me talk about my china dishes. After school I took Olivia to see her orthodontist. The doctor learned about Olivia's intentions to donate her hair to Locks of Love, and he looked genuinely impressed. Right before we left his office, a receptionist handed Olivia an envelope. "Doctor wanted you to have this, Olivia." Inside was a handwritten note commending Olivia for her big heart. He offered many kind words, and he included a Sonic gift card. She was over the moon with excitement. Her hair is nearly to her waist, and it is quite lovely. I keep telling myself that I am so fortunate to have a little girl who wants to give up a little part of herself for the good of another child. I love her long hair, and it will be strange once it is short. She misunderstood my hesitation when she first shared her wish with us, and she said, "Mommy, Vivian doesn't have any hair, and she's still beautiful." "Oh, honey. It isn't your hair that makes you beautiful. Your hair is very, very pretty, but your heart is what makes you beautiful. Your goodness makes you beautiful." Vivian tries to bite the kids' toes. If she notices bare feet hanging off the couch, then she'll hurry over and try to sink her teeth into them. She does this while standing up in her Pack-n-Play while I read to Ev and Henry in the glider too. She wants to bite toes. We laugh really hard every time a child narrowly misses the wrath of Vivian. Today we enjoyed playgroup outdoors at a friend's house. The mom has boy-girl twins Henry's age, and this group allows him to play with several other 2-year-old boys. Vivian has two baby boy friends just her age. They've been walking for months. Today she pushed a little cart all over the driveway while using a really wide walking stance. Her short skirt showed off her super fat baby thighs, and the other mamas ooohed and aahed over Vivian's fatness. We had fun. Getting together with a diverse group of intelligent moms in my same life stage is a source of mental health. Give me a fair amount of sleep, some exercise, one cup of coffee in the morning, my amazing husband, some affection, understanding friends, and I can handle this mommy job pretty well. Laughter brightens my days, and I love how it comes in unexpected moments. Today Henry had on...you guessed it, CARS PJs. He slipped out the back door for some reason or another, and when he came back into the house I saw that he had on Olivia's silver ballet flats. He quickly kicked them off before I could capture the moment on film. What a boy!

Perspective

This is Wednesday. The week began with good intentions. I'm reading a new book called God is for Real. It is a story about a young boy who goes to Heaven and back without dying during a surgery. His father wrote it, and I find myself longing for a moment to read it. However, I keep dreaming about Jesus, and I haven't slept well since I began the book on Sunday night. Vivian let out a short cry late in the 4 o'clock hour, and I am now awake. I've really been wanting to write lately, but everything else seems to come first. Monday I planned to get up before the kids, which means in the 5 o'clock hour, to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee and read a short while. I thought I could ease into my week. Well, in the shower at a few minutes past six, I heard Evelyn enter my bathroom frantic about having not completed her Z homework while I was at bookclub the prior evening. I told her we had time. I thanked her for being responsible about her HW. It then took a lot of patience to not get mad when it became clear that she had entered the nursery searching for me in the dark, and she woke up both the baby and her brother. Vivian rolls with everything, but Henry was tired and NOT happy. He would not go back to sleep, and he was up and cranky. The lack of Z words in various magazines and catalogs led to more crying and whining in the Evelyn department, and Monday morning was rough. I think God knows what he is doing. Olivia, usually my child who is hardest to start come sun up, was awakened too, but she moved through our routines flawlessly. We went to MOPS, and I pulled out a devotional book, Jesus Calling, as I parked the van. The words resonated on April 11th, and made me laugh. "This is the day that I have made. Rejoice and be glad in it. Begin the day with open hands of faith, ready to receive all that I am pouring into this brief portion of your life. Be careful not to complain about anything, even the weather, since I am the Author of your circumstances. The best way to handle unwanted situations is to thank Me for them," and on it went. I thought the message was amazing. During our meeting, a speaker added perspective to my day. She pointed out that although we may feel in the trenches and drained to the last drop sometimes with our little children right now, that if we live past 60, then we will spend only 1/3 of our lives in active mothering. What? I feel like I will never know a day when there isn't a dirty bottom that needs tending. Perspective is a powerful thing. Little Henry can be so incredibly sweet. He developed a 101+ fever yesterday afternoon when Robbie had to stay at the office late. After his bath, which my stinky son really needed, he exclaimed joyfully, "Oh, Mommy!! Thank you so much for washing my CARS PJs for me! I love them. I love you, Mommy." He thanks me often for washing his favorite clothing articles. I responded with appreciation and said, "Henry, you are the only person in our family who thanks me for doing laundry. You are such a good boy." He charmingly came back with, "You are such a good mommy." I asked him if he will please thank his wife someday when (and if) she does his laundry. Yesterday Henry returned from the restroom and started fidgeting with his underpants. I asked him if something was wrong, he nodded, and I helped him pull down his pants and undies to loosen the area down there. I told him that if his penis or testicles, the little balls under his penis, ever hurt to please tell Mommy so I may help him. My guy said to me, "Those balls were SO hurting." Evelyn then said, "Mom, do I have balls?" "No, honey." Man, they are funny. Henry has also notices my breasts as I nurse Vivian, and he'll say, "Are those your privacies?" I had to tell him that he couldn't touch them, because my breasts are private. He respects my wishes, but he asks about privacy a lot. He also kicks his sisters out of the bathroom requesting his privacy too. Vivian pushes her little baby doll stroller walker all over the house like a big shot. She's so happy and lovely. She's been crying and reaching for her daddy as he leaves for work, which warms my heart. Robbie just worked out and needs the computer, so I'm off. I hope to share more soon.