And I Think To Myself...

Lance is gone for the weekend on some management retreat, which means I'm holdin' down the fort by myself.

Cole has a nasty cold and is wiping his nose on everything in the house except tissues.  It's gross.  I'm 99% sure that we're all gonna get this cold because of a toddler's natural lack of basic hygiene.  Thanks, Cole.

Spencer and Josh are bored out of their skulls because most of their friends are on vacation and it's too hot to play outside.  Half of the time they play well together; the other half they are mortal enemies.  I refuse to be involved, which makes them both very mad.  At least their anger with me unites them for a while.

I have had to clean the kitchen floor three times today.  I even mopped it once.  My kids are piggos when it comes to eating lately.  Despite my protests, reminders, and making them clean up the majority of the mess, it still continues.  I detest cleaning kitchen floors.  Which is dumb, because I do it every day.

I got a mole on my back removed on Thursday evening.  Now it feels like someone stabbed me in the back whenever I move my left arm.  Technically I guess someone did stab me in the back.  And I payed them to do it.  What's wrong with this picture?

Despite all of this, I've been happy lately.  Why?  I've been watching Ken Burns' documentary on the National Parks.  It's wonderful.  I love learning all the history and seeing all the great footage of the parks. It brings back all of the wonderful memories I have as a child being carted around Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, Joshua Tree, Muir Woods and such.

True story: one time when we were driving to Yosemite my mom decided that we needed a lesson on the park's history. She bought a book about it and read it to us on the ride down.  The book literally began with the dawn of time, and then proceeded to review a million+ years of geologic action in Yosemite.  You can guess how well that went over.

One of my favorite BK (before kids) memories with Lance was when we went to Zion National Park for a few days.  We hiked all around and went to the museum and stayed at this really nice bed and breakfast.  (Yeah, not so much into camping for our anniversary, thanks.)  I still remember staring up at the magnificent red canyon walls and wondering how people who came to see this could question whether or not there is a God.  It made me feel insignificant and special all at once.

True story: Lance has never been to the Grand Canyon.  He's flown over it and claims that that's enough for him.  Besides, it's just "a big hole in the ground".  Lance sure knows how to press my buttons.

Although I like living in Indiana, I'm really missing the West right now.  I miss the red desert and the mountains, the scrub brush and the cacti.  I even miss the dry heat; humidity is just no fun. I don't think you can ever really get used to it.  (You just learn to tolerate it.)  It's not like I'll never get back there, but I know it's gonna be a while.

Oh well.  Until then I'll just keep living vicariously through National Parks documentaries.  But hey - we're headin' West next summer.  Anyone up for a quick jaunt to Arches with four relatively well-behaved children and their National Parks-starved mom?

A Daddy Daughter Conversation

This evening it was *only* 93 degrees, which meant it was pleasant enough to sit out on the porch.  (Hah!  It's been hot.)

Anywho, Tess deigned to sit with Lance for a while.  She kinda sorta maybe likes him now.  In small increments.  Hey, we're getting there.  I'm sure in no time she will only love daddy and want nothing to do with me while he's around.  And that'll be alright with me...

Lance took this opportunity to have a little conversation with his daughter.  At first she liked what she heard.

Then he said something that really quite interested her.  (Or maybe surprised her a little?  Startled?  I don't know, what is that look she's giving him?  Other than cute, that is...)

Then Lance said something that really ticked her off.  Tess gave him a piece of her mind.

It was at about this point that Tess had had enough of talking with daddy.

I got some great video of the conversations.  A few things to watch/listen for when watching:

• That loud kid in the background is our neighbor, Justin.  He's 6 and has only one volume.  Just try to ignore him.  We do.
• In the middle of the video Tess flips Lance off.  It's pretty awesome.  (Funny - it wouldn't be awesome if she were 13 instead of only 3 months, but there you go.)
• At the end Lance gets his revenge by tickling the poor child until she falls forward.

I think I have video of each of our kids having conversations like this with Lance.  This means he's either a one-trick pony or a really great dad.  I'm going with the latter.

Housework Helper

This morning Tess DEMANDED to be a part of the housework action.  So I strapped her into her Snugli and went to work dusting and mopping and just cleaning up in general.  She loved every minute of it - except for when I accidentally got a little Windex on her.  (Oops.) 

She happily stayed in the Snugli for close to two hours and then started to nod off.  I put her in bed and she didn't even cry at all before falling asleep.  Apparently housework is exhausting even for babies.

Thank Goodness For Control Locks!

I mean, seriously, what little boy can resist the siren call of flashing and beeping lights on a washing machine?

Last Baby

Even before we were married Lance and I both knew that we were supposed to have four kids.  I'll admit, for a while there after Cole was born I was perfectly content to stick with just three, but soon after I knew that we would still have a fourth.

I've been having mixed feelings about Tess being my last baby.  Not about Tess herself, mind you - just that she's my last baby.  Ever.

On one hand, the thought of never having to be pregnant again is something of a relief.  Pregnancy is hard.  And this last one did a real number on my body.  By the end of my last pregnancy I could feel every one of my 33 years each time I moved or even breathed.  It was rough. Not that 33 is ancient, but there is a distinct biological reason younger women have an easier time of getting pregnant, that's all I'm sayin'.  And the morning sickness... oh, the morning sickness.  Never having to feel that again is all right with me.  (Some doctors say that the morning sickness gets better with each pregnancy.  Some doctors are stupid liars.)

And then there's that newborn phase.  Newborns are hard.  Especially when you have other children.  The baby mixes up day and night and wants to eat seemingly All. The. Time.  And they spit up everywhere and somehow poop their body weight every 3 hours.  Sometimes you get so tired you just want to roll up into a ball and cry. Sometimes you do.  And then one of your kids comes in and demands juice, so your pity party ends rather abruptly.

Also, I'm getting kind of excited about the prospect of having older kids.  Young kids are hard. Younger kids are definitely fun and entertaining, but there's lots of stuff you can do with older kids that you can't with young ones.  Movies, Cedar Point, eating out at a place that does not don golden arches...

On the other hand, sometimes I catch myself holding Tess and thinking things like "This is the last time I'll hold a three month old baby who is mine," or "This is the last time I'll have one of my babies smile at me for the first time."  It's enough to make a Momma roll into a ball and start to cry.

And even though pregnancy and having babies is hard, there are also some great things about it.  I love those few hours or minutes I have when I'm the only one in the world who knows that I'm pregnant. And then once Lance knows it's fun to have a secret between just the two of us.  I love feeling the baby move inside me.  Okay, maybe not the stretching and the bladder beating, but the little fluttering moves are nice.  And people are so nice to you when you're pregnant.  You can really get away with a lot of stuff if you know how to work it!  (Not that I ever did, I'm just saying you could.  Yeah...)

I also love that time right after you have a baby.  I'm not saying it was love at first sight with my kids.  (In fact, I remember looking at Josh, maybe touching him, and then literally passing out for a few hours I was so exhausted.)  But those few days you get in the hospital, just you and the baby and some nurses who wait on you hand and foot and who all claim that yours is obviously the most beautiful baby in the hospital, and someone else does all the cooking and cleaning... well, that's just nice.

And even though newborns are a lot of work, I love how they're so sleepy and limp and will just lay on you and be perfectly happy.  (Until it's time to eat, that is.)  I love the little milk comas they go into once they have a full belly and a clean diaper.  It's enough to make you want to have a dozen babies.

I've been thinking about all of this for several days.  While it still is a little sad to think that I'll never have another little newborn, I'm okay with it, too.  My childbearing years were a wonderful chapter in my life, but certainly not the longest or the most important.  Because it's not like not having anymore children means giving up on mothering.  Mothering, if done well and correctly, lasts the rest of your life and into eternity. 

If I do my job right, my kids will all grow up and become self-sufficient adults.  They'll move away, get married, and have kids of their own.  But I will still be their mother.  Not in the same way as now (thank goodness!).  But I will always be their mother.

And they will always be my babies.  Every last one of them.

Have You Ever Been So Tired...

...that you fell asleep in the rocking chair in the baby's room while you were reading "The Happiest Toddler on the Block?"

Cole has.

So have I.  Although I was also holding a nursing baby at the time.

p.s.  This is exactly as I found Cole this afternoon, I promise!  I couldn't have set it up this well if I had tried.  And no, the irony was not lost on me.

County Fair 2011

It's hot.

I'm not talkin' 85* and I'm a bit uncomfortable hot.  I'm talkin' 98* with 80% humidity and a heat index of 115*.  I'm talkin' no need to take a shower because you step outside for a minute or two and you look like you just had one.  I'm talkin' I can't wear my glasses outside because they keep fogging up with steam.  I'm talkin' sending your kids outside to play is a punishment and not the privilege that it usually is.

It's hot.

And it's with this kind of weather that we braved going to the county fair yesterday.

Why did we go?  Because we always go.  Well, we didn't go last year because we were dealing with all of this drama.  But we usually go.  And Tess had never been and we couldn't just deprive her of that experience, now could we?

So we plopped her into her Snugli baby carrier, and the baby who I spent all of yesterday talking about how she wouldn't sleep?  Yeah, this was her within (literally) three minutes of being in the carrier.

That girl was out.  I guess the heat is good for something.

This year we broke with tradition in a few ways.  First, we didn't get dinner there.  Last time we went we found the food to be not-that-great and absurdly over-priced.  I mean, fair food is supposed to be expensive, but it's also supposed to be magically good.  Not this fair.  So we ate dinner at home first.

Second, we decided to ride the rides first.  In the past I had always made the rides the last activity.  I don't know why.  I guess I figured that the kids wouldn't want to look at the other fair stuff after the rides.  Instead, they whined all during the fair stuff until we got to the rides.  So this year we hit the rides first, and it was The. Best. Fair. Idea. I've. Recently. Had.

The kids were so happy and behaved themselves so much better while looking at the animals. Plus, it was WAY less crowded since all the teenagers and such don't usually get to the fair until later in the evening. We'll definitely be doing it that way from now on.

Our first ride was the Ferris wheel.  (Did you know that Ferris is capitalized because it's named after it's creator, George Washington Gale Ferris?  It's true.  He designed it for the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago.  I read a book about a serial killer at that fair, and for some reason the author was obsessed with the history of the Ferris wheel.  I can't remember the name of the book, but I do remember that it was all based on fact, especially the Ferris wheel stuff.  It was a good book.)

Anywho.

I don't care for carnival rides as much as the boys do, so I only insist on going on the Ferris wheel.  Here are the boys waiting in line.  They're much more interested in watching one of the games off to the side than in getting on mom's boring old Ferris wheel.

Finally it was our turn.  Lance, Spencer, and Josh practically ran to get on, leaving me with a rather reluctant Cole and a baby strapped to my chest.  Nice.  I was eventually able to pull Cole into the gondola.  He was not so interested in this whole adventure.

And once we got started Josh and Spencer weren't, either.  Although I don't think they would ever admit it, the ride made them a bit nervous, too!

Josh got a little more comfortable after a few minutes.

I don't think Cole would have left Lance's lap for a million lollipops.  (And he loves a good lollipop!)

Spencer faking a smile - the second before he was looking decidedly nervous!

Here's a little video of our ride.  At the end you can see just how excited Tess was about the ride.

Next, we hit the big slide.  It was a bit too big for Cole, so Spencer, Josh, and Lance had a race down.

Spencer was winning at first.

But then Lance and Josh totally took him down.

 

Cole stood off to the side, watching quite intently.  I thanked my lucky stars that he's not quite old enough to understand that he was missing out on something.  Next year will probably be a different story.

Lance, Josh, and Cole got to ride on the helicopter next.  Cole was quite pleased by this!

 

You can see how excited Tess was.

Next up: the bumper cars.  Spencer and Josh had been talking these up all day.  Spencer was over the moon that he was finally tall enough to drive one by himself.

 

Did you know that it's kinda hard to get pictures of your kids in bumper cars?  True story.

But it's really easy to take pictures of a baby who's really excited about the bumper cars.  (Or not.)

Then the boys decided that they just had to go on the roller coaster.  I use this term loosely, as this was the tamest roller coaster I had ever seen. No matter.  Josh was super-excited to be tall enough to go on, and Spencer was happy that he was tall enough to ride without Lance.  Plus, he got to sit next to a friend from school.  Bonus!

 

If you look closely enough you can see the top of Josh's curly head next to Lance.  Sorry, Josh.

 

Tess was not impressed with the roller coaster either.

Cole was a little impressed.  I think he was vaguely starting to realize that he was missing out on something.

So after that ride I left Lance and the big boys to go on one more ride while Cole and I made our way over to the animals.  It's a good thing we left when we did because toddlers are slow in decent weather, but absolutely snail-like in hot weather.  It took us forever!

But we finally made it, and soon so did the rest of our family.  We enjoyed looking at all of the bunnies and ducks and chickens and roosters.  Cole does a pretty good chicken impression:

Okay, not really.  But he's pretty dang cute.

By this time Tess was awake.  She had this crazy "Where did you people drag me to this time?" look on her face.  I kept laughing out loud at her.

We checked out some horses and a few of the 4-H and home economics displays (one of these years I'll enter something!), and then broke with tradition one more time.

Usually we get a big funnel cake and share it while watching some sort of horse competition.  But this year it was so dang hot that a $6 funnel cake just didn't sound all that appetizing.  So instead we loaded up into the mini-van and headed down to Igloo for some frozen custard.  It was awesome, cooler, and cheaper, which is always better.

So, in summary: It was hot.  The boys love carnival rides.  Tess isn't that impressed with the fair.  And sometimes it's a really good idea to break with tradition.

Self-portrait Tuesday: Tess at Three Months

Yesterday Miss Tess turned three months old.  She is, I dunno... 12+ pounds at least.  Probably around 24" long?  Maybe?  I mean, this is the fourth child, who has time to weigh and measure a baby when Cole is running around naked because he thinks it's fun to take off his diapers and Josh and Spencer are in a battle to the death over some computer game?  Not me.

Back to Tess.  Where to start.  Is she a joy?  And little piece of heaven?  A princess among babies?

Yeah, not so much.

Tess has decided she no longer needs to sleep during the day.  At all.  For a while there she was taking at least one (sometimes even two!) LONG naps during the day.  This meant I could get stuff done around the house and could even give the boys a little attention if they wanted it. 

Now I have a super grouchy baby on my hands.  A grouchy baby who wants to be held all the time.  And if her paci falls out and not put back in right away?  The end of the world.

Tess has also decided she no longer wants to nurse. Well, not without a big fight, that is.  She's fine for the first feeding in the morning, but the rest of the day is one battle after another.  She's not sick, she's not teething, she's not being pricked with needles, although that's what she sounds like when I try to nurse her.  I think what the problem is is that when she eats she wants her food RIGHT THEN, and with nursing you have to work just a little bit to really get at it.  With a bottle it's instant gratification. 

I'm a mean mom and won't let her have a bottle as often as she would like, because I already know that if I do that she'll stop nursing altogether.  Lazy, lazy baby.  (Don't worry - she's not starving.  If I nurse her for a good long while and she's still hungry I'll give her a bottle.  Even then she generally only drinks a little of it.)

Tess used to be a superstar at going to bed at night.  We had a whole routine and we both loved it.  Not anymore.  Now she cries and cries and then falls asleep and then wakes up and cries again.  I'm not sure what changed, but it's no fun.  Mainly because once you get used to getting all the kids into bed at a certain time, having that not happen anymore makes you feel really picked on. *pity party*

It's not all terrible.  When she gets enough rest she is quite happy and content.  She smiles and coos and has started wiggling all the time, which I delight in with my babies.  She definitely knows and prefers me, which is sometimes a little rough (why can't you like Daddy as much?) but is also quite flattering.

Oh Tess.  You're a lot of work.  You're a lot of baby.  You keep kicking the keyboard as I type this and I wish you would stop.  Despite all of this I love you very much.

Now please, for the love of all that is holy and good: go to sleep.

Free Fallin'

This morning I learned that when you walk down the stairs while holding Tess you should NEVER hold her so that she's facing out.

She thinks she's falling.

It took me 10 minutes to calm the frantic baby down.

Lesson learned.

Sunday Best

Every Sunday Tess does something to her dress before I can get a picture of her in it.  She seems to have a special affinity for spitting up, pooping, and peeing on her finest duds. 

But not this week - this week I was able to snap a few photos before she could do anything to her dress.  Not that I got any really good pictures.  Tess wasn't what you would call cooperative.  But at least now I have photographic proof that at least one day a week she wears something other than a onesie. :)

 

 

Sand

This afternoon I called down to the boys in the basement that it was time for lunch.  Spencer and Josh ignored me and so didn't get any lunch, because that's how I roll.  Hey, if you can't be bothered to come up then I can't be bothered to make lunch, I'm just sayin'.

Anywho, Cole came up because he's a good, hungry boy.  "What? Mommy!  Eat!  What?"

His appearance startled me.  The boy was covered from head to toe in sand.

What in the...?  How in the...?

I couldn't figure out where in the world he got into sand.  I checked all of the outside doors, hoping against hope that he hadn't figured out how to open them.  They were all locked.  I looked around the basement and asked Spencer and Josh if they had brought sand downstairs in a bucket or something.  Although this was a distinct possibility they looked at me as if I were crazy.  (I really hope I didn't give them any ideas.)

I snooped around some more and finally ended up in the storage room and found my answer.

Cole hadn't gotten into sand.  He had found a bag of brown sugar, nibbled off a corner of the bag, and gotten it all over himself.  Surprisingly, miraculously, the mess wasn't that bad.  Apparently he had eaten most of what he had gotten out.

I went upstairs and got him out of his clothes.

Me: Cole, did you eat the sugar?
Cole: No.
Me: Do you have sugar all over you?
Cole: No.
Me: Don't go into the storage room anymore.  You shouldn't go in there.  No no.
Cole: Yummmmmm...

A Conversation with Cole

As I predicted, Cole finally started talking more once Tess was born.  His pediatrician was a little concerned that he didn't have a bigger vocabulary, but I knew a baby sister would speed up the process.  I may not know much about mothering, but I knew that.

Cole still babbles and speaks a lot in what sounds to be a cross between Polish and Lithuanian, but there are times when he deigns to speak English.  One of Lance's and my favorite things right now is when you call his name he says "What?", sounding very much like a few certain adults around here.  The video starts off with that.  It also shows that he still tends to answer most every question with a resounding "No." in typical todder fashion.

That kid is hilarious.

My Baby Laughs Like A Goat

But since she's so dang cute it doesn't really matter! 

 

 

 

A Conversation With A Four-Year-Old Who Just Got Glasses

Me: Why did you have to get glasses?
Josh: I was seeing two of things.  Yeah.  Two plates and stuff.

Me: Do the glasses make you see better?
Josh: No, it’s still just the same thing.  I think.
(Side Note: The optometrist said that it might take up to a month for his double vision to clear up.  Try explaining that to a boy who was expecting instantly perfect vision!  If the vision doesn't get better then we'll have to move on to more serious steps.  Prayers said that we don't have to go there would be appreciated!!!)

Me: Do you like them?
Josh: They’re not helping me.  There’s no things on the side.  But they have green on the side.  Well, now I have glasses on Wii.  And they’re blue.  You’ll have to see what I look like.
(He's talking about his Mii avatar on the Wii.  The first thing the boys did when we got home was run downstairs and put glasses on his Mii!)

Me: Does Mommy wear glasses?
Josh: Yes.  But not on Wii.  You have glasses on your eyes!
(Contacts.)

Me: Are you excited to show yours friends at school your glasses?
Josh: Yes.  Wait – is it today?

Me: No, not for a few weeks.
Josh: Oh.

Me: When are you supposed to take your glasses off?
Josh: I don’t know.  Until I’m going to go to bed.

Me: Do you wear them in the shower?
Josh: NO!  Hahaha!

Me: Do you wear them when you go swimming?
Josh: No!  Only my sunglasses!  Where are my sunglasses anyways?

Me: I don't know.  Who else wears glasses?
Josh: You.  Grandma Susie.  And Grandpa ElRay.  And me!  But not Tess.  And not Spencer and Cole.  And Daddy doesn't wear glasses because he plays on computer.

Me: Do you have a special case for the glasses?
Josh: Yep.  I can press the button and open it.  Where is my case?

Me: What do you do with the case?
Josh: Put my glasses in them so Cole can’t destroy them.

Me: Anything else you want to say?
Josh: Umm... can I have a snack?

Me: You are eating lunch.  Right now.  No, you may not have a snack.
Josh: AWWWWW!!! But I have glasses!

Smile!

Finally got a smile from Tess on camera!

 

Not really a smile so much as a goofy "I know you're tryin' to get me to smile and I'm not gonna" grin.

In case you're wondering, that's not a scratch on her cheek.  I'm afraid it's a birthmark.  I've been keeping really close track of it, and it doesn't seem to be getting bigger or darker, so hopefully it will just fade with time.  What a place to have a birthmark, right in the middle of one of those big, kissable, chubby cheeks!

By the way, want to see what Lance does with babies in his spare time?

Explains a lot, doesn't it?

Self-portrait Tuesday: Girl's Club

People have been asking me a lot lately if having a girl is fun or different from having boys.  At this point, in all honesty, it's not really all that different.  It's just having a baby.

However, I'm beginning to feel a little difference.  Tess just *seems* more feminine to me.  I don't know if I could really pinpoint any specific examples, but she is definitely a different baby from her brothers.  Of course this could all be based on her personality (and probably is; all of my babies have been very different), but I choose to believe it's because she's a girl.

I'm also beginning to feel like I belong to a special, super-awesome "Moms Who Have Daughters" club.  I love it.  It involves a love of skirts, shopping, accessories, and all things girl, such as the latest tween heartthrob.  I *heart* Justin Bieber now. 

Just kidding.

But I'm sure that at some point I will know more than I ever wanted to about some boy band Tess loves.  The house will be inundated with play make-up, dress-up clothes, barrettes and bows, and whatever toys Tess will love and the boys will love to hate. And that's okay with me.  (I'm pretty sure the special, super-awesome club has a support group for the moms. :)

p.s.  Tess's look in this picture cracks me up.  This is actually her normal, 'all things are fine' look.  She's just kind of a scowly baby.  Thank goodness she's starting to smile more now!  (Just not for the camera, of course.)

You Know It's Humid When...

... you wake up to this on the windows.

And it hasn't rained in days.

Oy.