Why four months is my all-time favorite baby age

The smiles are toothless and never-ending.
The coos are unexpected and sweet.
The hands can now reach and touch my face.
The neck is the site of a million smooches and nuzzles.
The legs are chubby and ticklish.
The tummy is vulnerable and beacons raspberry kisses.
The crying is rare and short-lived.
The smell is heavenly and life-affirming.
The laughs fill our home and draw an audience.
The skin is soft and squishy.
The eyes look with goodness and adoration.
The hugs revive me and remind me of my many blessings.
The feet are tiny and stop for massages.
The kisses are wet and drooley and sweeter than nectar.
The heart knows no sadness or hurt.

And for just a short while longer, Mommy is necessary and perfect.

Wacky wish of the week

Reagan (in her best whiny-baby voice): "Mommy, Peyton's getting so big already; can we PLEASE have another baby."




Ummm, yeah, I'll get right on that.

Spell checker

Hayden (6): "Mom, I can spell the word 'cake' because it's one of my spelling words. Wanna hear?"

Mom: "Yes, spell it for me."

Hayden: "C. A. K. E. See, I can spell it!"

Mom: "You sure can! Good job!"

Landon (3 and needing attention): "I can spell too!"

Mom: "You can? What can you spell?"

Landon (proudly): "K. L. T. Y."

Hayden (unimpressed): "Landon, that's the radio station we listen to in the car."

Landon (even more proud): "Yep! And I can spell it!"

"I feel pretty! Oh, so pretty!"

See, I CAN be sweet to my baby sister.

I just usually choose not to.



See, I'm being nice.








Still being nice.








Still being nice.


Oops! How'd that picture get in here?


I didn't do anything! I promise!

If you sprinkle when you tinkle...

...then you're probably my son.

I know it's still too early to complain. I mean, it was only a few short months ago that I was lamenting Landon's tardy entry into the world of serious potty training. A few weeks later he woke up, decided he was "big" and would no longer wear diapers, and he's been good to "go" ever since. Aside from some night-time/nap-time Pull-Up precautions, he is potty trained and I am so very thankful.

Since I know it would be counterproductive to voice my concerns directly to Landon, I am going to utilize this venue for a few of my (his!) potty issues that are driving me bananas. Please bear with me as I vent...quietly...so as not to cause any unnecessary toddler regression.

Dearest Landon,

I have some potty requests I would like for you to consider during your next trip to tinkle. I will say these as gently as possible so I hope you can feel the love with which I speak.

1. AIM! I'm not referring to a few little sprinkles that find their way onto the seat. I'm talking about puddles on the floor and the oft doused walls. My bathrooms, unfortunately will never be the same. And I know you can hit your mark because I've seen you spray your brother's leg from clear across the other side of the bathtub while bathing...and he's a moving target! You can do this! I have faith in you.

2. LOWER! The seat that you lifted to go can surely be put back down once you're done. You've gone from slamming the darn thing with such force that we thought you had broken the lid, to rarely putting it down and it is causing me great hesitation each time I enter. I have "fallen in" more times than I care to count and it just really grosses me out.

3. FLUSH! When you were younger, you would enter the bathroom simply to flush the toilet. You would flush it over and over and over until we had to start barricading your entry. Now I hear, "It's too scary, Momma. It's too loud!" when I ask if you've done it. If I insist that you go back and flush, you will run in, push the handle down and then fly around the corner, barreling over anything in your way. Trust me son, the toilet will not attack.

Now when I am able to steal away for a few seconds to use our facilities unchaperoned by you, our family tinkle-inspector, I have to wipe down the toilet and walls, lower the seat, and flush before I can even think about why I'm there. I just don't have the time to waste what with everyone needing me as soon as I enter.

So help me out Landon...PLEASE! I did this with your brother as well so I knew it was coming. But now I am older and more tired and just want to go to a clean bathroom relatively quickly. Is it too much to ask?

I love you,

Mom

(Ahhhh. I feel a little better.)

Hidden treasures?

I found an old Batman lunch box buried between some stuffed animals and a pile of Legos recently. Irritated that it was left where it shouldn't have been, (we have a history of fossilized lunch food findings) I went to put it away and noticed it was quite heavy. Hesitant to open it, and already holding my breath in preparation of the funky stench sure to escape, I peeked inside.













Evidently, Landon decided to pack himself a few necessities: a ball, a baby doll, and one of baby sister's wet diapers that didn't make it to the trash (That's his job). Good thing I looked at the contents, but an even better thing that I already had my breath held.

I guess I need to be thankful that diaper was just wet. Ewwwww.

Guess why I'm smiling

'Cause I rolled over today! I'm thrilled but my mommy's sad.

The fine line between too big and too little

I have to make a decision every morning, a decision most people take for granted, yet I ponder and worry about it from the moment I awake. I routinely ask: Do I dare attempt it and take the chance, or should I just leave it for another day? How long can I truly wait before people begin to notice, to whisper behind my back and glance at me with disparaging eyes? This decision that rules my mornings, causes me such trepidation and hinges on the whims of others, is this:

Do I bathe today or not?

I know. It's gross. But it's a real concern for me. It's not that I don't have the time, I do. It's not that I don't have the resources, I have those too. The true problem is that I have...a three-year-old.

This boy toddler we'll call...oh, I don't know...Landon, forces me to alter my beauty routine to the point that I'm a little, well, skanky some days because I must supervise him at all times rather than bathe. I've always taken him with me into the bathroom while I shower. I've kept him occupied by talking with him, giving him little jobs, and singing songs. It's not been an issue until recently; he's gotten too big, he notices things.

So I thought today, since I was extra stinky and I could not do another "ponytail day," he might do well in another room while I showered. Peyton was asleep in her chair in the living room, Landon was watching Max and Ruby, and the shower water was running and warm. I allotted myself five minutes (a true challenge) to get all the important parts clean. However, right before I stepped in the shower, I decided to peek in on Landon. GASP! He was IN the chair with Peyton, slamming bouncing her head against the back, having just woken her up. He's simply too small to be in there; I cannot leave him alone with her. I squealed, scooped them both up and deposited them in the bathroom with me.

I stepped into the shower and he immediately pressed his little smiling face against the glass. Here's when I realized he's too big to watch Mommy shower.

"Mommy, you don't have a tinkle!" (What he calls his, well...you know.)

"Mommy, you have big boobs!" (Not really, but I am nursing so I am more, er, ample. And who taught him the word "boob" anyway?)

"Want me to help you?" (Um, NO!)

And other comments I'm just too embarassed to share. (As if the above remarks weren't bad enough.)

Do you see my quandary? Do I take him in the bathroom with me and be forced to discuss male/female anatomy, or do I leave him alone to roam the house and "fish" in the fish tank, "bathe" Keaton's pet turtle, glue papers to our counters and climb inside the refrigerator. (All activities he's done the past few days.)

I guess the only answer is to just stay with him every second of every day and not take any chances. Bathing is overrated anyway. I hear skank is "in."

Multitasking

This is not my baby but it is my life.

Things get hectic a lot around here, especially when Jimmy is on the road. Tonight I had one of those moments where I found myself wondering whose life am I leading, how did I get here, and where did all these children come from?

After we returned from Reagan's volleyball match, and in the span of ten minutes, I washed Hayden's hair as he showered, bathed Peyton while also bathing Landon (and rescuing her from his continuous attempts to rinse her shampoo-ladened hair by spitting the water on her face head), dressed them both, reviewed the match with Rea and assured her that she is a good volleyball player, discussed college recruiting with Sutton, and answered Jimmy's phone call from New York; all while signing a stack of forms for school, passing out evening snacks for the boys and giving Keaton a 25 word spelling test.

I've often said that I wished I grew another arm every time I had a baby so I could keep up with the extra demands, each arm completing a separate important mommy-task. However, I'm afraid I couldn't do any better considering my slow reduction in brain cells over the years (I have a hard enough time remembering what my two arms are supposed to do.) And besides, with eight arms flailing about, I'd just look weird.

Afternoon assignments

While I cook dinner:

Fourth grade homework is tough.













I know all the answers.













Paper + toddler scissors= three-year-old heaven. (Notice the snow boots...in September...in Texas.)

















Not sure which job is better, holding the sleeping baby sister or being the sleeping baby sister.

Still life

from the perspective of a six year old who "borrowed" Mom's camera:











Evidence of contraband M&M's (look in the mouth):








I guess he wanted to assure me he brushed afterwards:

Girl fight (with clarification)

Overheard last night as they argued while doing the dinner dishes...

Sutton (17 and grumpy, to Reagan): "You're annoying."

Reagan (12 and in no mood, to Sutton): "You're a pessimist!"

Keaton (10 and confused): "Is that a body part?"

Boy:

A noise with dirt on it. --Anonymous

Gift grubber

Hayden decided yesterday at school to plan an impromptu sleep-over at our house for every boy he knows. He went around the schoolyard during recess inviting these boys to come over after school for popcorn, movies, and spend-the-night fun. He was even giving out directions to our home to these children's parents ("Drive down the road until you see some bricks and then turn...") He instructed them that they need only bring three items:

-toothbrush

-toothpaste

-and a present (!)

It's not just that this party wasn't parent approved, or even parent discussed...it's that his birthday is ten months away.

I warned him

He's been told for months that baby sister would be getting him back for all the rotten things he's done to her. This morning he kept teasing her a then put his head in her lap...guess what she grabbed and wouldn't let go?

Just before the "attack."

















There is no picture of the extraction as Landon was screaming, Peyton was giggling and I had to be the jaws of life.

Seconds after her fist full of hair.

















The tattle.













His wise decision to then hug the lower part of her body...away from her clutches of death.

Michelin mama

I have 15 pounds that won't leave. They have taken up residence in my rear (and stomach, and thighs, and arms, and...). I am so frustrated. I have gained and lost about 200 pounds over the years (approx. 30 lbs per pregnancy) having all of my babies so I know it can be done. Am I just so old this time that it's gonna stay? It took me at least eight months to lose the flab before, and I realize baby girl is only four months old, but this spare tire around my middle is really getting to me. Nursing makes me so hungry that I eat like a linebacker. Food never tastes better than when you're breastfeeding so my willpower is being severely challenged. Did I already say I was frustrated?

Maybe Michelin Man needs a partner.

The "A" Team

It looks like we have another volleyball player in the family. Reagan and 90+ other 7th grade girls have been trying out for their school's volleyball team for the past week (at 6:30am!) and the results were posted today. Reagan is thrilled with being on the top team, as following in big sister Sutton's footsteps is a self-imposed tall order.

Since Dad is on another trip and we have volleyball matches the next two nights, I guess it's just me and all the kiddos again supporting Rea tomorrow night and Sutton Friday.

(Any and all prayers would be appreciated.)

Sometimes love hurts...

...your feelings.

Mommy (randomly to Landon across the room): "I love you Landon."

Landon (who never looked up): "I know you do."

A few minutes later...

Mommy: "I love you Landon."

Landon (irritated, yet never looking up): "Why do you keep telling me that?"

Mommy: "Because I want you to feel good."

Landon (finally looking up and highly agitated): "Well, I will feel good when you quit telling me 'I love you!'"

*sniff* *sniff*

Mmmmmmm, Hayden...

...you taste yummy!

Pictures from our "vacation"

Bitty bathing beauty












Chicken fight!

Micro-mini vacation

We've been home-bound since January as far as vacations go. We even stayed home all summer which is quite unusual for our family of globe-trotters. Since volleyball was on the schedule yet again this weekend, we had to wait until Sunday to head out on our little (and I mean very little) get away. School is back in session on Tuesday so we had to have fun fast.

Where did we go on this tiny time-off? Oh, about ten minutes down the road.

We stopped off at Bass Pro Shop, allowing the kids time to explore. Big Buck restaurant was for dinner and is conveniently attached to Bass Pro. We then went to the "E Hotel," as Hayden calls it, which is, itself, connected to Big Buck. (We really branch out, don't we?) We stayed in the presidential suite that boasts 1000 sq. ft., space necessary for eight tenants. Swimming, snacks, and bed time were followed this morning by a breakfast buffet like no other.

Our long (ahem) trip home took ten more minutes, topping off a much-needed 15 hour furlough. We'll hit the ground running again tomorrow, no jet-lag to slow us down.

Another sibling extraction

It's a good thing Keaton doesn't mind pulling teeth as this is the fourth time she has done the job for Hayden. I get the heeby-jeebies just thinking about it so my kiddos are on their own when the time comes.













Lunch today was a challenge for our toothless wonder; eating his favorite turkey sandwich, honeydew melon and Cheetos required some creative modification.