new toys

Jack has hands. He's just discovered them and he thinks they're AWESOME. Unfortunately one side effect of the constant hand-munching is the now constant need for bibs. Fortunately we have dozens! (Thanks Bubby Sharyn!) With his new and exciting hands, he can also pull said bibs right up into his mouth, thereby killing two birds with one stone: fun chewing adventures and drool collection, all in one!

The other benefit of hands is grasping, as in grasping toys. Much to my delight, and his as well, I found a little bag I'd tucked aside in a storage box. It was FULL of fun baby toys-- the brightly colored plastic keys, easily-grasped colored links, shaky balls with bells and best of all, the stacking tower that lights up and makes cool sounds. (While I am generally against Noise Toys, this little tower plays bell tones and little classical tunes so it's not very irritating. It does, however, tend to go off at random points all on its own, which can be a little terrifying at 2 A.M.)

Jack is growing up. His world is expanding. Of course, at this point it hasn't expanded much past his fingers and toes, but still. The bubble grows so quickly. Eventually it'll pop and he'll have the whole world in his view. Probably I've got a little more time before then.

Anna turns 6

I'm not at all sure how it happened but somehow, yesterday, my oldest child turned 6. She's VERY six, too. This is the first year she's asked for specific birthday presents, the first year she's woken up in the morning and declared that she LOOKS older and is now much much MUCH more mature (her word, not mine). Really, this is the first year her birthday has meant something more concrete to her than just cake-and-presents. Not that those aren't super important, too! But this year, she really is a big kid-- and she knows it. Happy birthday, my Anna. You're amazing!

And just for the sake of nostalgia... here's Anna again, but a little bit smaller. Look at that beautiful smile, though. Some things don't change at all.

She's got the look... and the books

 

Not only is Anna totally adorable, turns out she can read! Ok, I know, you're all totally in shock. But recently her love of the written word has been confirmed at her school. They tested her at a 3rd-4th grade reading level. Even though we knew she was a strong reader it was still kind of shock to see it set out like that. So now Anna gets to follow a seperate program from her classmates. Her teacher will send home a few books a week from the 4th grade curriculum. Anna's supposed to read them to us a few times and then return them, where her teacher will then test her on comprehension of the stories. From there we can see if she needs things to be more challenging or less. It's wonderful that the schools now have a system for individualizing skill learning instead of just trying to fit all the kids into the same mold. Her teacher has been great to keep Anna progressing while working with us to make sure she's appropriately challenged without being overwhelmed.

From Anna's point of view, all this complicated curriculum and individual tutoring just means... new books! Every week! Hurray! I'm so glad she's happy and as long as it seems to keep her that way, we'll keep offering her new things. All in all, a really exciting program for my little kindegartener.

Littlest Frog, 8 weeks old

 
 
 

Baby Pictures of Jack

The sad thing is he's already so much bigger!

The Case of the Light-Up Shoes

Katie has light up shoes. You're thinking right now, who's Katie and who cares about her shoes?

Silvia cares, that's who. Katie goes to her preschool and for MONTHS I have heard every day about the shoes. Not in a whiny, begging or complaining way, either. Silvia has been filled with wistful sighs and admiration.

"Mommy, Katie has light up shoes. They are soooo pretty. I love light up shoes. Maybe someday I can have light up shoes like Katie? They have lights on them when she walks. Katie loves them and I love them, too."

Since her feet are growing exponentially and her shoes from April no longer have a chance of fitting, I decided why not? I have to get her new shoes anyway, why not indulge her ultimate fantasy and go with fancy lights? I mean, come on. When else in her life will her dreams be so easily reached? It's not like she is bombarded with new clothes and shoes and toys and fabulous treats. Most of her things used to be Anna's (including shoes) and we're not really give-the-kids-tons-of-crap kind of people. It would be a real treat for her and she deserves it.

So, I went to Kohls (I had a coupon, yay!). Or to what I now call, Shoe Hell and Home of the Sales Dragon Lady.

The had the perfect shoes-- a pair of mary jane sneakers in bright pink with lights enough to satisfy without being obnoxious. Silvia wore them out of the store, happiness coming off her like rays of sunlight.

But then, after we were home, and Jack was fed and calmed (he hates the car), we both noticed that one of the shoes didn't light up. Oh, no! Oh, horrors! I still had my wits about me, though, and felt generally calm and up to the challenge of a shoe exchange. So we waited to pick up Anna from her bus stop and headed back over to Kohls.

Can you guess what happened? Is the rule of Murphy's Law clear in your gaze? That's right. They didn't have her size. Sighing, I headed to customer service with two increasingly rowdy and grumpy children and a (thankfully) sleeping baby. The lady called the other stores (no dice), stared me down silently with no other helpful suggestions and gave me my money back. Cue mayhem from the 3-year-old whose dreams had just been dashed.

I gathered up the troops, headed home, had a piece of chocolate (medicinal, you understand) and checked online for the right size. Jackpot! Turns out, though, I'd have to pay shipping. So I call the store and ask if I can have it shipped there and skip the shipping cost.

Guess what? Turns out that, IN THE STORE, there is a kiosk set up for just this circumstance with free shipping. The catch is that you have to order IN THE STORE.

Did I mention the IN THE STORE part? The part that would have been incredibly helpful to know before I dragged my three children OUT of the store? I explained this fact to the customer service lady (the same lady I spoke to when we were IN THE STORE) and she said, "Well, I'm sorry, I can't do anything for you. If you want the shoes without paying shipping, you'll have to come back."

I told her I hoped she'd be more useful with this helpful information with other customers and hung up. Only then did I use language inappropriate for a child's blog.

In case you're unclear on why I'm so frustrated, let me expound (because this post isn't long enough yet!). Getting in and out and in and out and about and corralled with all the kids is hard. It's annoying. It's frustrating. I mostly avoid going out these days if I have to take even two kids. Jack, as I've mentioned, hates driving and tends to scream for the majority of our trips. The girls are sweet and I love them, but their ability to tackle all my nerves at once is beyond impressive. It's an art. So going to the store, leaving, going back and being the opposite of helped so that I'll have to go back AGAIN... I'm pissed.

The question now stands. Return to Kohls (hopefully to see the same lady and make rude gestures at her while letting my kids scream in her ear and getting the baby to throw up on her) and order the shoes, sans shipping costs. Or order them online, pay the fee and be free from road trips and obnoxious sales staff. Or give up on Silvia's dream and get her some plain ol' shoes the next time I happen to be out in a place that sells them.

Thoughts?

(I have to say that I'm leaning towards ordering online and considering the $6 shipping a worthy fee for my sanity. I don't really want to disappoint Silvia when she has come so close to her dream. What would I say to Katie?)

Boys and Girls

Anna's first day of kindergarten

Big day! We all took Anna into school this morning for the drop-off, but they hustled her into class so quickly we didn't really have a chance for a tearful good-bye (or much of a good-bye at all, really)-- which is probably for the best. She was all smiles this morning and even extra sweet to Silvia. The picture of the two of them hugging was after Silvia came up to her big sister and said, "Anna, I'm really going to miss you." Oh, man! That's pretty much the only time I did get a little misty-eyed.

So there goes my big girl, off into the world of public education. Let the adventure begin!

Pictures at random

Anna loves Jack

Sisterly love takes on a whole new perspective when you get Anna into the mix. She adores Jack. She can't get enough, which sort of leads to some problems around here. Well, not problems exactly, just... effusiveness. She exists perpetually within 3 inches of his face, with his hands and feet and anything else she can get grasped gently (mostly) in her hands. She gives him his pacifier even when he is in no need of pacification. We've had to try and establish rules of distance and personal space.

It mostly doesn't work. Anna LOVES her Jack.

(Silvia loves her Jack, too, but she's a tad more interested in Jack's toys, blankets, paci's and various cute noises. She finds his diaper changes fascinating, mostly so she can get into his onesie drawer and pick out a new shirt for him if needed. Beyond that, she's happy to just play with her own baby doll-- for now.)

Cuteness

 

 

 

He's here!

Jack Stephen was born last Sunday, the 18th, at 6:52 P.M., weighing 7 pounds, 4 ounces. It was a tiring day but ultimately a very fast and furious labor and delivery. I'm very happy to say that Kurt and I were able to have the birth experience we'd hoped for, though of course it was nothing I could have imagined beforehand. We spent most of the day at home together in what was an incredibly emotional and intimate experience we'll never forget, only heading to the hospital a little more than an hour before Jack was born. In fact, the midwife told us that had we waited any longer, it's very likely Kurt could have been delivering him for me on the side of the road! Thank goodness, it all worked out perfectly.

Jack is a dream, a beautiful, perfect little miniature person. His sisters love him to pieces, almost literally, as they spend so much time holding his little hands and smothering him with kisses and petting. They're adjusting fairly well, I think, though of course we've had a big increase in attention-seeking, whining and sibling arguments. Hopefully, that will all smooth out over the next couple weeks. (fingers so so so crossed!)

Kurt is home from work with us for this week and the next and we've pretty much retreated into a little family huddle just trying to get things calmed down around here. But we're happy even in the midst of the mayhem and couldn't possibly be more in love with this little boy! So, welcome Jack! We love you!

Anna loves me, this I know

Every afternoon these days, after Silvia goes down for her nap, I find myself barely conscious on the family room couch. I try not to give in to it, but I'm just tired, y'all, what can I say?

Anna, my amazing little 5-year-old daughter, totally understands. She pats me on the shoulder, kisses my head and lays little soft hugs on me. Then she says, "You have a nice rest, Mommy," and heads off to the playroom to finish up some coloring and read quietly for the hour or so it takes before I can face the conscious world again.

Sometimes she'll come and have me tear out a picture for her or help her get a snack if she can't reach something, but mostly, she just plays quietly, tiptoes around and stops by to drop the occasional kiss against my hair.

I am the luckiest mother in the world.

Looks can be deceiving

Yesterday, Anna stationed herself on the front porch with her big bin of crayons and several coloring pages. While Kurt worked on the front lawn (and I hid inside with the A/C preventing late-pregnancy heat sickness), she doodled away at her various masterpieces.

Then Silvia woke up, the girls discovered Daddy was messing with all the sprinkler heads and the coloring was forgotten in the resulting water play. When Anna came back to her crayons about 6 hours later, looking to draw some American flags for the 4th of July, she discovered a bin of goo with little bits of crayon wrappers stuck throughout. The colors had all melted together in the hot afternoon sun.

At first, devastation. Oh, no! My crayons! My vehicle to the world of art and self-expression! Melted, lost, destroyed! And then... hmmm. That melty puddle right there doesn't look like a crayon.

That part looks like chocolate!

Yes, my 5-year-old daughter, for all her brains and panache, took a big scoop of melted brown crayon on her finger and popped it in her mouth. Sweet chocolately goodness it was NOT.

She came inside, carrying the bin, making "ew, gross" faces and dragging her tongue across her sleeve. She looked up at me with a slight expression of betrayal, as if I had somehow tricked her into eating colored wax. Then she ran upstairs to brush her teeth... for about 20 minutes.

Later that night, as the girls gobbled up fresh, juicy cherries for dessert, Anna stated, "My crayons all melted today and I tasted one and chocolate crayons are NOT GOOD. Cherries are way better!".

Lesson learned: Everything in moderation... and context. If it's surrounded by inedibles, don't risk it!

Good Horsie!

Nursery in progress and Silvia, just because

Middle of the night

Her cry at 2 A.M. is so different from her cries during the day. Anna normally is a real screamer in full glory. Her wails start in low as she puts some air behind it and then, WHAM!, she's got a heartbreaker pouring out.

At night though, when she's half-asleep, scared, and groggy, it's a whimper. A sad, rolling moan of a cry, it is totally unique to my daughter. There's no way I'd every, even woken from a deep sleep, mistake that sound for any other child.

Anna has nightmares. Sometimes I'd go so far as to call them night terrors, but mostly they are just aimless fears she doesn't remember upon opening her eyes, lingering only in a gut reaction against the shadows in the dark. She's been having them less and less lately, but last night they came back in full force.

At the first sound I always pop up out of bed, a reflex born from years of mom conditioning. Or, at least, I used to pop out of bed. Now I start to pop up, groan, then slowly lower my legs off the side of the mattress and sit for a few seconds until standing becomes a possibility. Kurt usually doesn't hear anything, so I give him a nasty look (it's not his fault, though, it's a chromosomal inadequacy of male hearing, poor guy), then waddle my way to her room.

And here's the other hurdle now. It's not just her room anymore. As she cries and gains volume, Silvia is sleeping right underneath her in the bunkbed. I stumble into the room, whisper, "Shhhhh, shhh, baby, it's ok, you need to be quiet, you'll wake Silvia...", go forward to pat her head, and lay my arm across her shoulders (remember, she's on the top bunk).

Then it hits me. I realize this is too much detail for some (Hi, Grandpa Bloom!!), so I will be brief. I have to use the bathroom. Immediately. The baby has settled in from my short walk down the hall and I have to go RIGHT NOW.

Poor Anna. She's in a foggy haze of fear and mommy's hopping around trying to soothe her while apologizing for having to run frantically from the room. "I'll be right back, I'll be fast, it's okay just... oh, please, wait!". Once that's all resolved, I return and cuddle Anna's head. I used to lay down next to her, but there's no chance of me climbing up top these days. The good thing is, she always calms down right away once I get there. The bad thing is, she needs me to stay until she falls asleep or the moaning cries start back up.

So from about 2:30 until 3:15 A.M. this morning, I rocked in the girls' chair while Anna drifted back off. Sitting in the glow from the nightlight, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. How many other nights did I sit in this chair, rocking with my children while the rest of the world slept? How many more nights do I now have to come?

As exhausted as I am today, there is still a certain satisfaction that comes from those private moments. My child, me and a quiet world wrapped in night. Tired? Yes. But very lucky, too.

Touch the sky

We went up to Breckenridge a week or so ago and they had up some fun bouncy stuff for the kids. Anna volunteered for the bungie jump, much to my surprise. I was sure she'd be terrified but... no. My little adventurer drew a crowd from all her gleeful screams and laughter.

I, of course, forgot my camera, but Opa caught it all!

Bunkbeds!!

And now they share a room. It's been a rocky start, but we're hoping by a month or so they'll have settled down and bedtime will no longer take an hour and half. But still, yay! Bunkbeds!

"Anna wil mary adin"

Good God.

Yesterday during quiet time (Oh, how I love thee, quiet time), I found Anna peacefully coloring a lovely, rainbow-y picture at her table. It looked like two people holding hands, with words across the top I couldn't quite decipher.

"What's your picture, hon?", I asked innocently.

"Me and Aidan," she announced with a cheery grin.

I leaned over to take a closer look and found, scrawled across the top of the page, "Anna wil mary Adin".

Gulp.

"Aidan from school? You like him?"

"Yes, he's my friend. Except he won't play with me, he only plays with the other boys but we're going to ride bikes together tomorrow and I'm going to give him this picture!"

Double gulp.

"No. No, sweetie... let's leave the picture here, ok? You can ride bikes and talk to him first."

"Why, mommy?"

"Well, sweetie. Hmm. Then you can marry him when he least expects it. Everyone loves a good surprise."

Anna's Graduation

I used to always discreetly roll my eyes when people talked about their kids "graduating" from preschool. But that's one of those parenting things you learn as you go along-- don't knock it til you've been there. When they played a country song called, "Let Them Be Little" while showing slides of all the kids as babies and then as five-year-olds... yup. I got all misty. My big girl!

Next thing? I have to survive her first day of kindegarten. Lord help me.