Winnie the....

(I wrote this in late 2010!!!  Kai's vocabulary has evolved since then.  Now he says, "What the!" for things that surprise/confuse/baffle him.  I've chosen to pick my battles.  At least he doesn't fill in the typical last word of the phrase.)

Poo.  


There is just no getting around it in this household.  It isn't something that is acceptable to banter back and forth about in the world outside my home.  But inside my four humble walls?  There is plenty of poo discussion.  No amount of punishing, pleading, prodding or even pinching can get Kai to stop saying "poo."
He says it when he's happy, frustrated, angry or defiant.  For Kai, no occasion is complete without the inclusion of his favorite word. 

And so goes my life.  My high heels are getting dusty in the back of my closet.  My nails haven't seen a decent coat of polish since '09 and my feet would scare off even the oldest goat in the barn.  I'm going to have to haul my own hoof trimmer to the nail salon by the time I get around for a pedicure.  (Come to think of it, I'll just go out to Jay's uncle's farm and have the ferrier put horseshoes on my feet.  The boys would like that better than a pair of heels any day!)
I can't recall the last time I had a stimulating conversation about politics or music or literature.  In fact, I joined a book club that focuses on the classics to remind myself that there is life outside of hearing the word "poo" 2,153 times a day.  When I got 75 pages into the book and discovered that I had no idea what I had read, and more disturbing....didn't care, I dropped out in shame.  Hence, the loss of more valuable braincells.


But I sure have conversed about poo with a 2 year old.  When Kai is feeling particularly snarky and doesn't want to give his mother a break, our dialogue goes something like this...

"Kai, what do you want for snack?"

"Poo!"

"Kai, you HAVE to tell me what you want.

"Poo." (said with a wicked grin)

"String cheese or crackers?  Which one?"

"Poo." (even bigger grin)

"That wasn't one of the choices, little boy!  Now just answer me right now or you'll get nothing to eat and you'll be hungry for a long long time!!!! AND I WON'T EVEN CARE!"  (I didn't say that last part.  But I thought it, though.)

"O-Kaaaay!  I want string cheese.....

And poo."

This Is What Your Face Might Look Like....

Have you ever wondered what would happen to you if you decided to lick an ornamental pepper plant in your neighbor's garden?

I now have 2 little boys that can give you a clue.

This is what your face might look like.....

For 45 minutes..... (I failed to capture the rolling on the ground bit.)

And this is what your face might look like when you are hoping that your Mom would make the burning go away instead of sticking a camera in your face on fire.

Apparently Clones are NOT impervious to the burn of an ornamental pepper plant.

(As a side note, I googled to see if the plant was poisonous so I didn't have to call Poison Control....AGAIN.)

And this is what your face might look like when you are almost 2 years old and your mother asks you to "smile" while your brothers are sweating profusely and drinking milk by the gallon.

This is what your face might look like when pandemonium is taking place in the house with your brothers' face-on-fire incident.  Smug.

 And this is what your face might look like when you need a nap.

House Guests

We have a few nightly visitors in our house that make the rounds from room to room.  Unlike Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and the Elf on the shelf, these visitors aren't seasonal.  These guys are a nightly occurrence.

They've developed quite the reputation for being mischief makers of one kind or another.  Generally speaking, they aren't welcome in the boys' rooms, but they make themselves at home despite the protestations.

Their presence isn't known until the morning light streams through the windows across sleeping heads lying on pillows.  After the first flutter of eyelids, the first smacking of lips and the gentle stretch into a sitting position, the guests have left evidence of their visit.  When little boys wander down for breakfast we start the inspection to see how our visitor's handiwork looks on sleepy heads.

The report is typically the same each day.  Ralph the Midnight Hairdresser worked his magic on all the boys' hair, making architectural hair-do's that rival Frank Lloyd Wright.

Sammy the Squirrel generally skips Drew's hair because it is so thick, but delights in the fine hair of Kai and Owen.  Sammy builds his nest in their corn silk hair which requires some patience with the brush to unbuild.

Last night, however, I was informed that Ralph the Midnight Hairdresser strayed from his brush and comb and Sammy took a break from his construction business.

Kai came wandering into our room (just minutes after Cora decided that her crib in the closet wasn't going to be suitable for her slumber).  He told me very matter-of-factly, "There is something in my room that took my blanket."

He wasn't particularly afraid or distraught.  I asked him what it was and he said, "I can't remember what it is called."

Since our bed was presently occupied by the girl-from-the-closet, Jay took him back to his room, found his beloved blanket (which he clutched so tightly, nothing would ever be able to extricate it from his fists), and stayed with him until he fell back to sleep.

Fast forward to 7:00 a.m. (a measly few hours later), and Kai is back in my room and ready for the day.  With his blanket trailing behind him I take the opportunity to ask him about his night.

"Kai, you have your blanket back!!  Do you remember who took it in the middle of the night?"

"Yes," he replies.  "It was the guy who does my hair."

Well, Ralph the Midnight Hairdresser might need to stick to hair and leave blanket stealing to the experts.  He didn't make a very covert thief.

And a short while later, while assisting Kai in his bed making responsibility, I was informed of Sammy the Squirrel's new nocturnal occupation.

"Kai!  What happened to your bed?  The blanket is all pushed in a heap and the sheets are coming untucked!"

"Oh!", he exclaims as the thought hits him for the first time.  "It was Sammy making a nest!"

I can't wait to see what mischief the Tooth Fairy makes when Kai starts losing teeth! 

Merry Christmas 2011 in July 2012

I wrote this back in December.  You know, when the events actually happened, when we were hiding the "Elf on the Shelf" in a different place every night and we thought we needed to buy a bigger home just so we could figure out a new place to hide him.  (Along with the magic of the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus and now the Elf of the Shelf, the boys STILL BELIEVE!  And we've gotten really good at justifiable parental deceit.)  So..here is my attempt at describing our holiday in rhyme.


'Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the townhouse
Every hooligan was stirring, and there'd better be no mouse!
The stockings were hung on the half-wall with care,
Because two of the holders were the worse for wear.

The children were riled up and didn't want to go to bed
With visions of Lego's and Transformers in their heads.
We'd made Christmas cookies for Santa to eat
Even put out an apple for the Reindeer's treat.


Our Christmas Eve dinner we'd already had,
And the simplicity of that meal wasn't really that bad.
Hot soup and warm bread were devoured mighty quick
In hopes that soon they might sneak a glimpse of St. Nick.

The village was glowing and casting a light
It makes the boys wish they could sleep there for the night.
Christmas Eve jammies were adorned with great care
The first year for pink ones made everyone stare!


A new tradition was started with a funny contraption
Granny's old juicer was used for extraction
Of apples and pears into lovely fresh juice
For our own Christmas cider it produced was profuse!

A letter was written to Santa with care
By a boy who was uncharacteristically willing to share
His room and his bed if that was the need
For Kai to bunk in so that they all could read...


A Christmas story, a snowman and Santa's little elf
Were read with great gusto and put back on the shelf.
That elf had been wandering the house for some days
The naughty behavior not escaping his gaze.



The elf on the shelf had been this way and that
On candlesticks, mirrors, upside down by his hat.
It was time for his exit, on Santa's great sleigh
I couldn't figure out where to place him one single more day!



We'd had a Home Evening with lessons and songs
The topic was Jesus, and how He did no wrong.
His birth was the reason we celebrated that night
The boys needed to know and get the story just right.


After eating and singing and eating some more
Christmas Eve was just starting to become a chore.
And now that the kids were wound tight as a drum
We said GO TO SLEEP OR ELSE SANTA WON'T COME!


The night was still early for parents like us
Who now had to wrap presents to fill a small bus.
An assembly line of scissors and papers and tape
No telling how long this process would take!


We did it with pleasure and smiles on our faces
Secretly wishing that we could switch places
With the small ones who were sleeping with awe and intrigue
They still were so little and their hearts still believed.

We listened intently for any small sound
Those boys would find any excuse to come down!
We snuck up the stairs and to our great delight
Kai, Owen and Drew were asleep for the night!


Cora was nestled all snug in her bed
Not knowing the treasures and wonders ahead.
Christmas day was soon nearing and she would find out
What all the hubbub and excitement was about.


We opened our presents and stockings and such
Feeling so thankful we'd been given so much.
We ate Christmas danish and candy galore
Not knowing if we'd be able to eat anymore.

Dressed in our finest we went to church, to sing
Knowing that was the least we could do for our King.
A feeling of peace made me feel just right
And I could gratefully say.....Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Christmas Morning

Santa let them tug on his beard.

Santa giving a lecture about being good (we like this guy).

She wasn't impressed.

He guessed Kai's age.  He must be Santa!

Santa made them pinky swear to mind their Mom and Dad.  (We REALLY like this guy!)

Cora's Photoshoot

The winter doldrums descended on our house and settled in for an extended stay.  The limited hours of sunlight did nothing for my energy or ability to take pictures.  So I have limited photographic evidence that we've done anything the past few months beyond a few grainy photographs of Christmas morning, dark/blurry pics of Cora's first Birthday and other random, uninspired photos.  (And if photos are the barometer of our existence, then I'm just a figment of the imagination.)


Now that Daylight Saving's Time has come (and stolen a precious hour of my sleep) and we have more daylight, I have a goal.  I've dusted off my camera and decided to do little photoshoots with my shortlings. 


I started with "our baby" (as the boys still call her, emphasis on the our).  She was dressed in her Sunday, pre-lunch finery so I thought it was a perfect time to capture her beautiful baby blues. 

Then she saw her brothers eating and she couldn't concentrate.

So I moved her to the living room and took off her sweater that was making her too hot (evidenced by the red cheeks). 
 

Then she decided to get a little sassy......

  
Stole a glance at one of her brothers......

 Exhibited some great feats of flexibility, strength and finger-pointing.....

Laughed at her Daddy making a fool of himself behind the camera.....
 

Gave us one last good shot of her bloomers before terminating our photoshoot and going off to fling her food from her highchair and finger paint with her yogurt.
 

 So if that was any indication of how my photoshoot project is going to go, it is only downhill from there......Kai is next.
Wish me luck.

Cora - 14 Months (Even Though She is 16 Months Now)

She stands with a whisk clutched in one hand and a spatula in the other, waving those simple cooking implements like she was conducting a 50 piece orchestra.  Her smile so big and gaping that a line of drool has no chance but to escape her mouth and land ceremoniously on her pretty black dress.  She doesn't care that her rear end is a bit odoriferous or that her top end is as bald as a que ball.  She may even lose her balance a time or two while the whisk is wildly spinning around her head in a moment of reckless abandon.  No matter.  She's having fun.  Living her life like no one is looking.

I envy this about a one year old.

Not a care in the world, simple joys, simple pleasures, the ability to cry it out and then move on.  Cora has it all....the world on a string and her daddy wrapped tightly around her finger.  At 14 months she is the proud owner of 8 shiny little teeth and 4 molars that work harmoniously to supply her with all the bread, Kix and yogurt her little tummy can hold.  She never met a sweet she didn't drool for and a Daddy that didn't give it to her if she flashes her baby blues at him.  Those little teeth are often visible in a wide and genuine grin when she sees her brothers but hidden when a stranger asks for one.

The percentiles at the pediatrician's office say that she is average in every way a parent wants their kid to be average.  She's healthy and vibrant, not too tall, not too short and her head is just the perfect size to hold her perfect brain.   

But not all is perfect.  She continues to want to party in the middle of the night.  After an hour of screaming, she knows that we've reached our limit and Jay gets up and holds her.  EVERY night it is the same party and we desperately want to be uninvited.  We've tried letting her cry, patting her back, wrapping her up in 3 layers to ensure warmth and putting Christmas lights in her room, but to no avail.  Cora hasn't slept through the night in months and hence our gas tanks are empty and our patience is running thin.

Thankfully our memory is impaired, because when "Cooey" (as Kai calls her) lifts up her shirt and points at her tummy when we ask her, or shows off her incredible smarts by knowing the difference between a giraffe and a cow, or goes and gets her baby doll and gives it a kiss on our command, we all just melt under her spell.  Her brothers show her uncharacteristic patience and love that they don't show to each other.

And as she prances about with her purse filled with Transformers, saying MAMA and A-DA (Daddy) or Uh-mmm (uh-oh), we continue to feel blessed that I was lucky enough to be able to have her so she could complete our family.

She is the perfect ending to our family symphony.

Life Lessons Learned from a Three Year Old

From Kai:  A Public Service Announcement

"Get your extracise......So you can be extra strong."

Choosing a profession:  Go With Your Gut

When Kai was asked what he wanted to be when he grows up he said without hesitation, 

"A robber!!!"

I told him in no uncertain terms that that wasn't going to be an option.  I asked him again what he would like to do with his life and with only a little hesitation he said, 

"A bad guy!!!"

When I looked at him with my most stern motherly glare and I shook my head, there was a long pregnant pause and he asked in a quiet voice, 

"A mean person?"

Thankfully he is only three.

A moment of truth:  Lessons in Humility

I have a concert coming up on January 1 at the Washington DC Temple Visitor's Center.  There is a lot of music to learn and my pipes are a bit rusty.  I practice in little snatches between diapers and disasters, thankful for whatever time I can get.  While Kai was busying himself with the Lego's upstairs and Cora was busying herself taking out all the plastic containers from the drawer, I was busying myself with a little singing time.  I went for the most difficult part of the song first:  The high belt/mix that happens on the bridge.  I just went for it.  I was pretty proud of myself that I could still hit the notes with the right technique.  It was loud and powerful and a very good first round.  Just as I was about to sing it again I hear from upstairs,

"Mama!  Are you okay?

Do you bleed?"

Obviously I'm in need of a bit more practice.

And finally:  The Art of Debate.  

You must know your position and play to your strengths when any type of debate is taking place, especially when your opponent is a three year old.  Kai's strength is honesty and transparency with a little bit of personality on the side.  When asked if he should be allowed to do something special he explained that he already knew how to behave so I didn't need to remind him:

"I don't act crazy.

I don't act wild.

I don't say dammit."

Well stated.

On our trip to Colorado in early September.  

 

Kai saying "yah, yah" to get the horse to go faster

Kai hunkering down in aerodynamic mode to get the horse to go faster.  Notice the slow-poke leading the horse.

First Day of School

I wasn't entirely ready to relinquish my lazy summer days to the hustle and bustle of packing lunch boxes, signing papers, stuffing backpacks and cramming a healthy meal down sleepy eyed children's mouths.  I'd become quite friendly with Apple Jacks and bare feet.

The first day of school snuck (sneaked?) around the corner, whacked me upside the head, and took two of my boys away in a big yellow school bus.  I just wasn't prepared.  We didn't have our Back to School Feast or end of summer extravaganza.  We spent the last week of summer in Colorado so I didn't attend any Meet and Greets or Kindergarten registrations.  Summer was going along swimmingly, and then all the sudden the drain let out and we found ourselves thrust into a schedule and deadlines.


(Ever doing her part, Mother Nature decided to yank summer from my tightly clenched fist by dumping rain on the first day of school with temperatures hovering at 65 degrees.  No easing us in, just thrusting us off the cliff into another school year.)

So I had my hint(s).  Time to get back into the grind with stricter bed times and odd, unidentifiable odors emanating from lunch boxes.

My brand new big boy kindergartener donned his brand new spiffy "jogging shoes" (he already tested their "speediness" in the aisles of the shoe store), hoisted on his unblemished backpack (that looked like it could topple him over at any minute), tamed his unruly hair, and waited impatiently for the clock to reach 8:30 so he could run to the bus stop.

My seasoned second grader ate 3 eggs on toast (with the eggs on the side....I'm still trying to figure out why we don't call them "eggs on the side of toast"), secured his going-on-its-third year-dirty-backpack to his back, and played with Cora until I told him he had to leave her to go to catch his bus.

As Owen climbed up the very tall stairs into his bus and sat down in the second row, I could only see him from his nose up, face pressed against the window.  He looked so small, yet so confident.  He was still my baby with the giant blue eyes looking down at me as he excitedly waved goodbye. 

The juxtaposition of letting go but hanging on always comes to greet me on the first day of school.  I'm excited to send my boys into a new adventure where they will gain the skills and knowledge they need to grow up happy and well adjusted.  But I want to hang on to them and shelter them from things that little eyes and ears shouldn't hear or little hearts can't absorb.  

First day of kindergarten

First day of second grade

A brother's version of putting their arm around each other.

Kai rushing after them saying, "Wait for me!"  They didn't wait.

They made me proud on that first day.  The pair of them were intrepid explorers ready for their next great enterprise together as brothers/friends.  I sent my little men off and I could see they were confident and curious.  And then I looked over and saw Kai spinning Cora around in the stroller and I was brought back to reality.  I'll see them again in 8 hours, their heads crammed full of knowledge, no doubt.  And they'll be ready to cram their mouths full of snacks and take heartily from my stash of patience. 

Cora at 9 Months

• Daddy's girl (the baldies unite!)
• enjoys crawling, drooling, teething and chewing
• beloved by Drew, and loves him right back
• dislikes her crib in the closet and requires that she be put to sleep in someone's arms (see the first bullet point)
• favorite foods include mangoes, sweet potatoes and kale, peaches
• tolerates bananas
• dislikes avocados
• loathes cheese
• is the proud owner of 7.5 teeth (still waiting for the last one to reach the height of the others)
• weighs a few ounces shy of 20 lbs. and is short (my contribution, no doubt)
  
• her tiny feet are finally growing to meet the needs of mobility
• never met a staircase she didn't desire to climb (note above point)
• enjoys waving...but only at herself
• is a champion peek-a-boo player
• finally discovered that 4:30 a.m. is not as exciting as it once was and has given up waking up at that ghastly hour (Jay has yet to discover this truth and is up by this time every day.  Craziness.)
• she is happy most of the time and makes us happy all of the time
• likes her mama, too

Baby Sister

My three-year-old is going through a bit of an identity crisis.  He is teetering on the precipice between wanting so badly to be a big boy but still wanting to be Mama's little boy. I promised him I'll always make room for him in my lap even if it means that I have to have a winch to hoist him up into it.  Unfortunately, that was little consolation to him when I evicted him out of my lap, mid-cuddle, to rescue Cora from behind the chair.  (She gets stuck there sometimes in her quest to find little things on the floor to eat.  Bugs, fuzz, dried up pieces of cheese....she doesn't discern.  Her portly self gets wedged in there pretty tight so I have to shimmy myself in there and haul her out by her legs.)

He demands to put his clothing on all by himself with not one ounce of assistance from me; hence, he's gone out in public twice with his shirt on inside out and his shorts on backwards which, I suppose, is a blessing because he has yet to understand that plaid doesn't go well with stripes.  Thankfully no one could see that underneath that mess of an ensemble he wasn't wearing any underpants. 

Kai wants to make all his own decisions but has yet to master the art of sticking to them.  For instance....

He loves Cora.  He truly does.  He hasn't shown an ounce of jealousy since she entered center stage into his life.  But when he suddenly had an equally cute baby in his midst while on vacation in Florida, he started to waffle back and forth in his loyalty to his "Cooey."

Entering stage left was Shaye, Kai's cousin who is almost 2 months younger than Cora.  It was like he suddenly realized that there were other babies in the world besides the one he had been given and now he felt like he could choose.

One instance he looked at my brother playing with Cora and possessively demanded, "That's our baby.  He belongs to our house."  (Like the little issue with wearing underpants, pronouns just aren't his thing.)

And then the very next day he's on team Shaye.  He said:

"I want a different baby.....

(then he looked back and forth from Cora to Shaye, pointed at Shaye and said,)

like THAT guy!"

Fickle, three year olds.  Too many more evictions from my lap and Kai might start looking for another mother....like THAT guy.