"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.