Flying

Remember when all you needed to fly was someone bigger than you with strong legs and flat feet?

I do.

For me it was my sisters. For my niece and G, and Little guy it was me. For  Little L, it is G. I remember that my sisters used to fly me all the way up until my head touched the floor and then back down again. It was so much fun... an exercise in trust.

Same Same

Little guy and Little L are two peas in a pod. They play together like two clumsy puppies tumbling about in the spring grass. They have the same laugh, the same sense of humor and the same double cowlicks.  Their foreheads crinkle the same way when they get mad, and they both prefer to sleep in my bed.  If that is not an option, they cuddle up with each other instead, reading each other stories and giggling over silly knock knock jokes.  They are the best of friends, though neither will admit it.  I hope they will always be able to hold tight to this special bond they have... two ships sailing along together in this topsy turvy sea of life.

a GIANT

Well, it sure has been a while since I have blogged. I recently returned from California and a lovely woman there told me I should start blogging again. Now that I have access to a really smart phone, I can blog on the go. There's an app for that! Of course there is.

Well my Little Guy is now 8 years old. And Little L is 5.  G is 10. 10! Can you believe it?! Me neither. Unbelievable.

Today, Little Guy, who has turned out to be quite the gymnast, did his first Giant on the high bar. Of course, me being a non-gymnast mom, I had no idea what it was, but it was clearly a GIANT deal.  I am so proud.  

Basically a gargantuan, I mean giant, is when you swing ALLL the way around the bar, completely laid out, like a spinning hand on a clock.  I myself, cannot do a somersault without being dizzy for the next three days, so I am baffled that the kid was able to walk straight out of that gym with nary a wobble. 

Funniest thing happened though, while I was watching him at his practice.  These two other moms struck up a comvo with me. They talked about how their boys needed to score this many points to make it to regionals and they have  spreadsheets for their scores and how their boys need to do better on this event or that event. They asked how the level 4 boys were doing, and I said I think they are all doing well, and working hard.

They were nice enough, and then we started talking about how hard doing the pommel horse is.  There is this piece of equipment called the mushroom that the boys practice on to help develop the movements to do the pommel, and one of the moms said she just got one for her house for her kid. (at $350 it is not a small investment). She said she makes her kid practice on it for punishment for poor behavior. The other mom chimed in with she makes her kid do conditioning as punishment. (Sit ups, push ups, etc).  They looked at me.

Awkward silence.  I can't think of the last time I "punished" Little Guy.  Timeouts sometimes until he can get himself together and then join us again, but that's about it. I don't consider that a punishment, though... we all need a time out to ourselves sometimes.  I felt so bad for those boys.... They are only 8 or 9 years old.   

I eventually told the moms I have my kids clean for punishment, which technically isn't true... They clean up because we all have chores and they earn their allowance that way... But I felt weird telling them my kid doesn't do anything that requires me to punish him...  It's just not how we roll around here.  

I gave my Giant swinging Little Guy a giant hug after practice, and told him how I love watching him do his gymnastics and that I can tell he has been working so hard because it shows. 

Then he asked if he could please have a mushroom at our house so he could practice more on his own, and also could he please go to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays so he can practice more and work hard and get better?  And then he told me that he wants to be a gymnastics instructor when he grows up... and I felt like the best mom with the best kid in the world... and so glad that in his world, his sport is a pleasure, not a punishment.

 

Lullabies and Mudpies - life unedited

Today was a gray and rainy day. G had off from school for a teacher work day so I shlepped all the kids down do the aquarium for a day of fish gazing. The belugas are back, finally, after a several month long vacation while some construction went on - the kids and I were so happy to see them again. Little L really loved pointing to all the fish this time, she is really becoming more aware of her environment.

When we got home, the downpour had slowed to a drizzle and Little Guy decided to dig in the mud outside. You can tell we are in Georgia from the lovely orange color of the mud.



A few days ago I decided from now on I am going to put fancy dresses on Little L whenever I feel like it. We have no one to hand them down to, so why not let her be fancy on any random Tuesday? I took these shots of her while we were playing outside the other day after G came home from school... she's getting so toddlerish these days.

Dance, Magic and a Prince

When my cousin's girls were staying with us a few weekends ago, all the kids were gathered in G and Little Guy's room, being very quiet and content. I went to see what they were up to, and lo and behold they were putting on a recital. Big L was the director, Little L was the audience and the other 3 took turns performing. G did a fairy Godmother dance and cast a spell on each of us in turn. Little Guy danced to the Thomas the Train Roundhouse soundtrack. His costume didn't quite match his score, but it was the only dark blue on we had.

All 3 of my kids pouted when it wasn't their turn to perform. The older girls were MUCH better sports.

Notice anything new?

Little guy popped out a new freckle.

You see what I have to put up with?

Her expression says it all.

Naples at Twilight

My feelings hurt.

The day before yesterday, when Mister was home for lunch, Little Guy was pouting in the corner. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me he hurt his feelings. "Who hurt your feelings?" I asked. "What happened?" He didn't have an answer. He repeated this pouting for the rest of the day and whenever I asked him what was wrong, he always answered, "He hurt my feelings" or "my feelings hurt". Then, that night when he was taking a bath, he got sick in the tub.

My feelings hurt = I don't feel good.

Makes perfect sense. :(

Bersonkers

Pronunciation: \ˈbər-ˈzäŋ-kərz\

Function: adjective

Definition: How Little Guy acts after he's had one too many jelly beans. A combination of berserk and bonkers.

The beanbag chair IS NOT a toilet.

So yesterday my kids were taking a bath. I know, taking a bath is part of most children's regular routines, but I do believe that my children have become addicted to that warm enveloping tub of water as they ask for a bath about thrice a day and when they finally do get in one remain in it for 90 minutes or so at the very least.

Well, after they had finished with their bath, (only because I went up to check on them and they had shared their bath with the entire bathroom floor and were subsequently ejected from said bath, mind you) they came downstairs to "warm up" in front of the space heater in the TV room. Putting actual clothes on would have made too much sense.

As they dried off in front of the space heater, I cleaned up the mess in the bathroom. I wiped the counters and the walls, and then soaked up the mess on the floor with some towels. The bathmat (that I had JUST washed) was sopping wet and needed to be washed yet again. Oh joy. I carried the drippy mess downstairs to put it in the washer when I noticed a suspicious puddle in the pink beanbag chair. I went closer to see exactly what had happened and that is when I realized... Little Guy had PEED in the pink beanbag chair! Un. bee. lievable.

And when I asked him if he had done it, he said no. He blamed it on Grace. As if she'd pee in her own chair. And they say kids are so honest.

In like a Lion

It seems like it only snows here in March. My friend Kath had invited my dear girl over to her house for a sleepover with her two darling children. G loves to go to Kath's house because Kath does things that I don't do, like throws tea parties for the stuffed animals. She is excellent and creative with the children, whereas right now the most creative I get is some watercolors and printer paper.

Kath brought G back home this particular Sunday morning and lo and behold it was snowing. Big, wet, sticky chunks of snow. The previous Sunday it had been 72 degrees outside. Crazy weather.

Something about snow is so magical, especially when you only get to see it once a year. The kids had so much fun making "snowballs" and trying to catch the flakes on their tongue. G got frustrated when she couldn't catch enough flakes n her tongue, so she pied a nearby branch of a tree and just licked them off of it...when she thought no one was watching, of course. Silly kid.

The snow melted by the next day. Because this is Atlanta, and in Atlanta snow is a calamity, G's school had a snow day on Monday. The snow had melted, but they still had a snow day... because there potentially could possibly may have been might have had a chance of ice on the road in the wee hours of Monday morning.

One of our neighbors had built a 3 foot high snowman. That snowman remained intact for about 4 days. It was really odd to see this random snowman sitting in a patch of green grass on a balmy 65 degree day. Thermodynamics ROCKS!

Homecoming {jan 27, 2009}

I wanted balloons. Ms. Ruth from across the way had given me a little helium balloon on a stick that was a pink smiley face, which she instructed me to put on the mailbox when next baby made her appearance, so she would know. Ms. Ruth called me several times wondering if I had lost that little pink balloon since she still hadn't seen it on the mailbox.

When Little L finally did arrive, I told Mister where to find the pink smiley faced balloon (it was stuck in the basket where we keep hats and mittens) and I told him to put it on the mailbox. I also told him I'd really like some pink, purple and white balloons inflated and tied to the mailbox, also. Little Guy had a stork in the yard when he got home, Little L should at least have some balloons. In preparation for the big day, I had purchased a helium tank and a bag of mixed color balloons from Walmart. It also worked well since Little Guy's birthday was earlier in the month and so it saved some money on his party decorations... you know frugality is where it's at.

When Mister came back to the hospital after attempting this assignment, I was sad to hear that he was unsuccessful at inflating and placing the balloons. I mean really, it isn't THAT hard, right? He IS an engineer, I would think he could handle at least a clown task. Apparently, the balloons I had purchased were only 6" balloons and would not hold enough helium to keep them aloft. Who knew balloons had a minimum surface area to helium ratio? I asked him if he'd at least stuck the pink smiley face balloon on the mailbox. He said that it wouldn't inflate either.

Whaaaat?? Yep, he had taken a perfectly good balloon on a stick, snipped it off of the stick, then tried (and failed) to inflate it with helium. Oh my.

The only solution for this balloon-tastrope was to hit the dollar store on the way home from the hospital to score some inexpensive Mylar swag. Luckily, it was before Valentine's day so I was able to get pink and white heart shaped ones, supremely appropriate for our new baby love.

Once we got home, Zoie sniffed the newest member of her pack, as she always does. Then we celebrated Little L's homecoming with the only kind of cake I really like....king cake. Next year, we are SO getting chocolate and cream cheese filled king cake from Gambino's for her birthday. She seems like a king cake kind of girl, too.

And thus we started our life as a party of five.

Got Love?

The kid's favorite things....

1. Each other

2. Candy

Every day, at least once, Little Guy says to me, "I lub Baby Lor-lie. I lub G and I lub you, too, Mommy." He just melts me sometimes.

I was reminiscing today with my friend Susan about how G has been a candy thief since she was old enough to walk. once, when she was 2, she climbed the shelves of the pantry to get to some jellybeans that were waaaay up on the top shelf. She got stuck on the way down. She'd been out of my sight for quite some time before I heard the call, "Mommy...". When I finally found her, sitting on the third shelf up, she looked not a bit remorseful, just frustrated she didn't get away with it without us knowing. I always have wondered just how long she sat there before giving up calling for help.....