Sweeping Eggs

There are so many little things in parenthood that were absolutely not in the brochure. The little things that actually make up an entirely underestimated amount of our time each and every day. The brochure also forgets to tell us that those sweet smelling, baby-grunting, bundles of joy we bring home from the hospital develop into toddlers and preschoolers with no end of imagination, untested brilliance, and copious amounts of curiosity.

A typical day can hold tens of episodes that leave the grown-up population staring incredulously at the knee-high population, wondering what on Earth possessed the child to do that??

Just for the sake of education, let's look at some possible scenarios.

1. Perhaps the five year old and the four year old come running up the steps to inform you (the Adult With the Knowledge of How to Fix Anything) that the potty is filling up and turning pink. Hmmm... Cause? A large lump of #2, a massive wad of toilet paper, and a red bath-tub fizzy from Ozzie the Octopus. Because what toilet stoppage is complete without fizzy color added?

2. Or it could be a not-quite-three year old proudly proclaiming that she has refilled the liquid soap dispenser. As you digest this information, look carefully for glistening soap on her hands, up her arms, and pretty much all over her clothes. Then be real careful about walking on the tile floor. There is likely to be a lot of soap around. Be sure to check the hand towel, too. It could have streaks of soap on it where the child attempted to wipe the excess off her hands.

3. There are a few things that parenthood demands you to give up on. Privacy, as I have previously stated, is one of them. With that in mind, let's just say never underestimate the dexterity of a fourteen month old's little hands when presented with feminine napkins. Look carefully for places she might have stuck said product.

4. Also be on the look out for the not-quite-three year old as she attempts to put lotion on. She might think that it makes a good candidate for hair gel, thus negating the hair-washing she just had.

5. Babies, toddlers, and preschoolers are notorious for dropping, flipping, tossing, or otherwise sending their food (especially the unwanted variety) spiraling to the floor. Nothing says count your blessings and be thankful for them like sweeping half chewed meat or scrambled eggs.

Consider yourself a little more armed that you were ten minutes ago.

Sneaky Father Time

January, February, March and April, May, June, July and August, September, October, November, December....nineteen-eighty-three.

I thought that was the coolest song when I learned it. I mean, here I was in Kindergarten, and I knew my months of the year!! I was only slightly stumped when we went back to school after the new year and the teacher explained that the words of the song had changed a little. Now, rather than chanting 1983 after we sang our months, we chanted 1984. I wasn't at all sure how this worked, but took it in stride and sang my little heart out, careful to say the new number at the end. Then I put my hand over my heart, said the Pledge of Allegiance, and sang 'Your A Grand Ol' Flag'.

Do kids still get to do cool things like that in school? Mine will totally start learning 'Your A Grand Ol' Flag' next week.

I have already taught them the months of the year song. But we sang it today, review for the older two, and still learning for Elizabeth. It had a major change at the end, though. My head instantly reverted to being a pint-sized kiddo, wearing my head-band and pig-tails. I stood on the brightly colored, somewhat faded carpet with fifteen other children, who wouldn't dare misbehave (paddles were not even close to being ousted from the classrooms yet), chanting our books of the Bible, then singing our months of the year. "...nine-teen-eighty-three!" The memory was so vivid that I started to sing it that way, when I realized that, really, it was...uh...twenty-seven years later!

You know Father Time is sitting somewhere in his BarcaLounger having a chuckle on me and his trick of slipping so much time past me.

It's Rude To Say I Told You So

If you happen to be new here, and we know your not because all I write about are my kids and my thoughts and you would have to know me to appreciate my thoughts or my wry sense of humor, and perhaps you might even need to know my kids (but they are pretty stinking awesome) to want to read about us, but just in case you are new here and don't already know this...

I have four kids. Four kids aged 5 and under. I have learned a whole boatload of lots of tons of things with those four children. And, I know you may not believe this, but I still don't know it all.

It's okay. I have dealt with this. You should too.

Chocolate therapy solves a multitude. <---that one was a freebie, people. The next Self Help nugget will cost ya.

Worse than not knowing it all, it would appear that perhaps I am not even filing away those things that I have learned.

What? You always learn from your mistakes the first time?

Good for you, Smarty-pants.

Anyway...this isn't about you. It's about me and my kids and my thoughts. So let's talk about that, hmmm?

Four of 'em. Which means I have had three opportunities to learn from this mistake. And I still made it with Anna. Well, two mistakes actually.

I hate putting shoes on babies. To encase those sweet little toes in anything other than perhaps socks or footed pajamas just seems a waste of good foot kissing time to me. About the time I decide that maybe, just maybe, those footsies need shoesies, the child in question will start trying to walk.

And I hold off on the shoes. Because I love to watch those pudgy toes dig in and learn to become the balance setters that they are meant to be. I love hearing the sweet thud, thud, ka-thump as Baby takes a step or two and lands on their bummy. But mostly, I just think it helps their sense of balance. It's the massage therapist in me.

Sooo...by the time I finally get around to putting shoes on the baby, well, it just ain't pretty. There is much screaming and jamming and jerking and wailing. And then the kid gets upset because I am trying to shove their precious foot into a leather encasement and they join me in my not-so-merry noise.

The Lesson I Should Have Learned Three Kids Ago, Or At Least Two Kids Ago - PUT SHOES ON THE KID BEFORE IT IS NECESSARY.


Oh yeah, by the time I got those sweet little Mary-Jane's strapped on my Anna Joy, there were many tears. And then she refused to walk. She stood there, lifting her leg like a cat in paper boots, and glared at me. Then she kerplunked down on her bummie and refused to stand. It was back to crawling.

She did finally give in and start walking. After a few moments, she was a Master of Walking in Shoes.

The other thing that I might could have saved myself some frustration over was introducing a sippy cup my children earlier. My kids have always been about a year old before I bother and it has taken a couple of weeks to coax them into giving up their bottle in favor of the sippy cup. Anna? She only took three months.

I must have picked up that stinking sippy cup from the floor (where she would throw it in a fit of rage upon be presented with it rather than her beloved bottle) 22,764 times. Give or take a thousand or so.

The Lesson I Should Have Learned Three Kids Ago, Or At Least Two Kids Ago - Offer the sippy cup to the child before they are old enough to create nasty habits...such as having opinions and preferences. Like, oh, four weeks before they are born. Or at least at about 7-8 months. Or not.


But now? Professional Sippy Cup User.

All this to say? Yeah, I started them out incredibly late in a few areas, but after a few temper tantrums and a bald spot or two, they are fine.

But if there is a baby number five....I am just saying I might do things a little differently. If I remember.

Which is why I am writing this down. So I will remember these things.


And you thought it was just so you could laugh at me, didn't you?

My Sunshine & A Flannel Blessing

Motherhood is not glamorous.

Take today, for instance. It started around 3AM. Our little Elizabeth had fallen off the bed. Her whimpers propelled me towards the girls room, where I stubbed my toe walking in. It being dark, and me not wanting to wake the other two girls, I left the lights out while I searched for Elizabeth.

About the time the screeches in my head died away from having rammed my toe into the doorjamb, I realized there was a stench in the room. I finally found Elizabeth, snuggled her in close to me, and asked if she was okay.

'I fell off da bed.' *Sniff, gulp, sniff*

'It's okay, Sunshine, Mama's here,' I crooned as I smoothed her hair out of her face.

The smell was overpowering. I chalked it up to Anna and a nasty teething diaper. After I got Elizabeth tucked back into the bed, I hoisted Anna from the crib and started off with her, only to realize she was not the guilty party.

Carrying her back to the crib, I asked Elizabeth if she'd had an accident.

'No-wuh,' she replied, somewhat offended. I double checked, just to be sure.

By then, Sarah Grace was awake, so I asked her, too. Just in case. Nope, not her. I reluctantly admitted it must be some terrible gas and started to leave. I got about halfway back to the bed when my Mommy's Conscience kicked in. I knew there was more to this story.

I went back to the girl's room, flipped on the light, and started searching. Somewhere in the back of my head, I surmised that Elizabeth must have not been fully awake and done her business somewhere other than the bathroom. I checked the floors, the closet, then finally looked up on the bunk bed, where Elizabeth had started the night sleeping.

And there it was. The culprit of the foul odor that was assaulting my delicate sense of smell. My little girl had been sick all over the bed. Amazingly, she was clean. And true to Elizabeth form, ready to forget it and get on about her business. Which was sleeping.

So my day started super early with three extra loads of laundry. And a smell that 14 hours later has barely dissipated. I have no idea how to deal with it. I have searched out every nook and cranny, and it just stinks in there. Knowing Elizabeth, she could have been sick hours earlier and never mentioned it to anyone. And to be perfectly candid, it looked as though that were the case.

After we finally got everyone situated and settled back in for the night, I slept super lightly, waiting to hear if my baby was sick again. I finally dragged myself out of bed and showered. I washed my hair, I dried it, I fixed it. Then I went to my closet, pulled out a pair of comfy jeans and an old Gap flannel shirt that has certainly seen a lot of wears and definitely some better days. No sense overdoing it with the clothes today...our event schedule had just been cleared out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day has dragged by. The parade of dirty diapers has been especially long today, and my Sunshine girl is still way under the weather. It's tough to see her like this. She is our Sunshine. Every family has one: A child that simply has a sunnier disposition, who rarely complains, who always tries to muster a smile.

Her illness has been felt by all of us. Thomas and Sarah Grace spent the morning making her get well cards and coloring pictures for her. They brought books to her, refilled her water cup, kept her covered up with blankets, and propped her up on pillows to make her comfortable. Sarah Grace swaddled up her baby and brought her to Elizabeth to the Little Mommy could comfort her child. Elizabeth fell asleep with the doll in her arms. She didn't even complain when the kids would wake her up to present her with another paper full of colors and random letters.

Finally, she asked to go to bed, and has been there for four hours.

I was thankful for Thomas and Sarah Grace and their willingness to care for their sister. It kept me free to do all the yucky laundry and keep meals in everyone else's bellies.

My trusty and comfy and warm flannel shirt has been there for all of us today. Anna placed her mark on my left shoulder, her favorite place to rub her nose. Thomas dried his hands on the tail of it at one point today. Why he didn't use a towel is completely beyond me. Sarah Grace worked the buttons while she sat in my lap and chatted me up about various and sundry things. And Elizabeth rested in the softness of it as she snuggled with me.

Motherhood - What it lacks in glamor it more than makes up for in rewards.

Conflicted

My heart is full. I have a husband who loves me and takes care of our family. Who is my best friend, and understands what I mean even when I can't find cohesive thoughts to speak. I have four children who are healthy and funny and growing in the Lord. They have quirky little senses of humor, abundant hugs, and smiles that absolutely light up my day.

My heart is heavy. There are hard days in my own home that I can barely breath through sometimes. There are the responsibilities of being an adult, a wife, a mother, a friend. There are stresses on people that I can't help. There are girlfriends who have marriages that are in danger. Who have very sick children. Who have just miscarried. Whose husbands are out of work and they are struggling to make ends meet.

Is my life perfect? Not even when viewed from afar, I would think. Is it good? Yes, it is very good. Do we have our trials? Absolutely. It's just that right now, the trials we are facing are so very light that it seems a bit self-centered to even call them 'trials'.

The emotions threaten to overwhelm me. The deep sorrow that has to be set aside so I can listen as my son struts his new reading prowess. The laughter that gets cut off when a friend calls with a less than humorous need. I find myself on the verge of tears as I lift up these friends in prayer. A few minutes later, I am laughing at one of my children as they totally miss delivering the punch line of a knock-knock joke. It's all very confusing for a girl who likes to operate in black and white and finds herself surrounded with gray.

Growing up is hard to do. I never thought that I would be saying that at 31. But I am, and it is possibly even more true now than it was at 13. At least then I wasn't responsible for anything but my Algebra homework.

I don't have a way to wrap up my thoughts in a neat little package tied off with a bow. All I have is the sweet mercy that my Father gives to me and today. The safe knowledge that I am not walking alone, and that if need be, He will carry me.

And I pray for the same comfort for each of my friends with hurting hearts. You know who you are.

"God, who foresaw your tribulation, has specially armed you to go through it, now without pain but without stain." ~~C.S Lewis

I Never Claimed To Be Awesome

I posted on FaceBook today the incredible calm of our day. And then Irony reared her humbling head.

The kids were all playing around while I worked on my reading challenge. Anna toddled by and I realized that she was in need of a better smelling diaper. I busied myself with that task while listening to the older three kids squeal and horse around in their bedroom. I was just about done with Anna when Thomas let loose with a bloodcurdling scream

Now, Thomas is given to screaming and squealing just for the fun of it. If you have any real suggestions as to how to make that stop, please share. But believe me when I say, we have tried the obvious ones. This being said, you might understand why after five years of Thomas and his noise proclivities, I chose to finish diapering the baby and put her clothes back on her before jumping to see what was going on.

It is a mistake I will not soon be able to shake. The guilt is already laying heavily on my shoulders. I rounded the corner into the bedroom to see my son hanging by his head from the top bunk with his feet dangling a full foot and a half from the bed below.

I jumped on the girls bed and hefted Thomas' body into my arms to alleviate the pressure on his neck. I worked to try to free his head, but there was just no way I could stand on the plush surface of the girls' bed, support his weight, and pry the two wooden slats open such that his head would come out.

As fate would have it, I was the only adult in the house. I wracked my brain trying to figure out what to do. I could send Sarah Grace across the street to the neighbors, but I was more than a little apprehensive about doing that. Aside from the whole four-year-old-crossing-the-street-without-an-adult bit, the time of day was just such that the neighbors might be home, or they might not. My kids were born with this mile-wide independent streak that would propel Sarah Grace into searching for help. As you can see, sending her out was not a viable option.

I finally realized that I was going to have to call 911. I told Sarah Grace to bring me a phone, and was rehearsing just how to present my case to a 911 operator and wondering if my body could handle the extremely odd position it was in with the added stress of Thomas' 50+ lbs of dead weight while we waited for a responder.

Sarah Grace returned with my cell phone. When I asked for the phone, I meant the house phone. My cell phone has issues at best. But when I saw that little phone in Sarah Grace's hand, inspiration struck. My baby sitter lives just a few doors down and her home number was programmed into my cell!!! I called and gave a quick, though probably not very cohesive, plea for help to Mrs. S, our babysitter's Mom. Fortunately, she could read between the lines and heard the panic in my voice and they were here in less than two minutes. I sent Sarah Grace to stand guard at the door and unlock it for our neighbors.

Mrs S and Miss H got here and managed to get Thomas freed in seconds. Thomas leaped at Miss H (his very favoritest babysitter ever!) and I kind of sank down to sit on the bed while the relief and horror and comedy of the situation played out in my head. And I sent up many thanks to my heavenly Father for His graciousness in this moment.

Thomas is fine. In fact, when we told his Daddy about his misadventure, he described it this way: "That was so cool! I was hanging by my head!"

He can't explain how it is that he got himself into that position, or rather, I can't make out his explanation. I guess I really don't need to know the how's, so long as he understands now the why's of my opposition to them playing on the top bunk. We also had us a nice long conversation about screaming and squealing and The Boy Who Cried Wolf.



I did put those two minutes to good use, though, while we waited for the heroes to arrive. Since I had my iPhone handy, and my heart was relatively sure that my son was not going to die in this predicament...I took pictures. Don't judge me. It made him smile, and helped me to pass a couple of very tense moments while keeping my mind off the 'could have beens'.

Winter-ish Weather

Alabama seems to be borrowing cold air from somewhere. I wish we would send it back. Perhaps our Boys in California will bring home some warmth and a win when they head back this direction...

Sorry. I don't normally stray into the sports arena on this blog, but this is the National Championship.

Okay. Done with the sports.

The Big Snow that has been warned about all week? It hasn't materialized. My kids waited all day for enough snow to stack up to make a snowman. They had visions of Frosty and had talked about the specific attire for their Icy Friend.

If you have lived in Alabama for a winter or two, you know that this kind of snow only happens every once in a blue moon. And this wasn't our blue moon.

Finally, after keeping them at bay all day long, I cut them loose to get dressed and go out in the sludge. Partially because what kind of Mama would I be if I withheld snow play from my kids and partially because Joshua was here to monitor them from the cold side of the windows.

The girls had been running around in dresses all day so when they asked to go out, I told them they could if they could get themselves dressed to go out. Sarah Grace donned 3 pair of pants (two of them flannel lined) and stacked three shirts over her dress. Then her scarf, gloves, hat, and coat. Oh, and cowgirl boots. Because she goes few places without her beloved cowgirl boots.


Elizabeth slipped on a pair of pants, a set of gloves, a hat, her jacket and her Favorite Boots Ever. She lasted for almost fifteen minutes before she declared it 'too cold to pway in dat snow'.

Thomas and Sarah Grace worked hard to scrape enough snow together to make a snowman that stood almost eighteen inches high. They actually managed to drive a carrot into the top ball of his body so he would have a nose.

I even dragged myself outside long enough to lob a couple of mini snowballs!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's our little Bama-Fan-For-The-Night about the middle of the third quarter...


My favorite phrase of the night?

'I wish Alabama would just DO A TOUCHDOWN. I like that part.'

And Bama fans around the world said 'Amen.'

Nap Time

Nap Time is a sacred time of day in any house full of Littles. It is a time for mommy's to sit back and relax and catch their breath from the AM Crazy and prep for the PM Crazy. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying it's all bad, I am just saying that, at our house, it is Crazy.

If you are a lazy smart Mama, like myself, you take full advantage of this time to do things for yourself. Considering I am doing the Bible in 90 Day Challenge, this time is recently utilized by reading. I am frequently found with my laptop, occasionally vegged out in front of the television, tooling around in the sewing room, or my favorite, taking a nap with one of the kids!

It's really quite a treat for me. Not the nap so much as getting the one on one special time with whichever child I am with. I get to see parts of personalities that I don't get to see when we are all awake and flying every which way. I am allowed a glimpse into their mind, and get to hear their heart.

With Thomas, we are generally quiet. He snuggles up close and relaxes. When we wake up, he is loving and sweet. He tells me he loves me and how pretty he thinks I am. He then starts asking how things work and why. After he tires of questions and answers, he looks at me and asks for food.

Sarah Grace is polar opposite. She will lay close to me, but not really snuggle until she gets all the words out of her system. She asks incredibly deep questions to be so young. Usually about Jesus and Heaven and Satan and Hell. She is very inquisitive and wants specifics. We spend quite a bit of time chatting before I finally pull her in close and tell her that it's time to rest and we can talk more when we wake up. She holds me to it, too. I think the first question comes out of her mouth before her eyes open!

Elizabeth, our Sunshine, tends to lay facing me and watches me with her big, beautiful eyes. She rarely speaks, but seems to search my face as if memorizing it. I gaze right back at her until she breaks into a smile, perhaps even letting a giggle or two slip out. Then we go through several minutes of me closing my eyes for a few moments, then opening them to see if she is closing hers yet. Each time I check, if she isn't resting yet, she smiles around the thumb in her mouth and clutches her blanket tightly. We can go on like this for half an hour or better before I finally open my eyes and hers are closed.

Anna prefers to sleep in her own bed with her blanket and her Angel Baby. She will eventually graduate into the rotation, and I am eager to find out what she will be like.

Each of them are so very different. So very mine. Each of them make me smile and my heart swells with love.

And I am happy.

A Monday...Funny?

Sarah Grace, Thomas, and Elizabeth were horsing around and being silly this afternoon. There was no structured game going, just a lot of general goofiness. My mind was on the incredibly unhappy Anna and, though my ears were open for signs of displeasure from the older three, I was not tightly tuned into what they were up to.

"Thomas, I am the bosser this time."

"No! I want to be the bosser!"

"No! I am. It's my turn."

*Grunt, groan, grunt, grunt*

"I am the bosser and you are the worker. I just passed gas on you!"

My head whipped around and saw Sarah Grace standing on top of Thomas, grinning. Elizabeth was laughing and Thomas was struggling to get free, while telling Sarah Grace how bad she smelled.

Yep...ladies of the most genteel order, that is what I am raising.

A Little Bit About Our New Year

The thing about have four young children and living an hour away from church and the vast majority of our friends is that it makes the decision to simply stay home on New Year's Eve an incredibly cut and dried one. With naps and children who are ready for bed between seven and eight, going out and subjecting them to the wonderful chaos that this particular holiday brings just doesn't hold a candle to keeping everyone home and just hanging out together.

We spent New Year's Eve doing just that. We occupied the first part of the day with odds and ends, then had all the kids go down for a nap. Even the five year old. It was a pretty easy thing to get them all to go on to sleep, considering we bribed them with the promise of a Family Fun night with special things to do.

Anna gave up on us all and went to bed right after dinner. She was not interested in the New Year Nonsense.

We kicked off our Extra Special Family Fun night with a rousing game of Trouble. It has been entertaining playing this board game with the kids. Sometimes, the game d.r.a.g.s on. And on. And on. And... on. Their interest tends to fade if it gets too long, but we remind them that we need to be sure to finish the things we start. By the end, we are generally laughing and getting silly.

After our long game of Trouble, we sent the kids upstairs and played a game of Hide & Seek. The kids are really good hiders, and pretty terrible seekers. But we all had a great time! The game ended abruptly when I spotted fireworks, pretty good ones, a few houses down. We quickly turned off all the lights and stood to watch.

However, we were disappointed. There were no more fireworks set off. We watched and waited, and waited and watched. The kids bordered on whiny, so we quickly pulled out string and measuring tape. We cut a length of string to be as long as each child was tall. Then we measured it, recorded it on a piece of paper, and wound up the string. Each little bundle of string is labeled with the corresponding child's name. We then weighed them and recorded it with their height. These little pieces of information, along with some other odds and ends, will be put into our shoebox time capsule to be opened next year.

We gathered in the kitchen with our wine glasses of sparkling grape juice as Daddy made a toast. The kids loved clinking glasses with everyone! After we drained our glasses, we tucked the kids into bed. It was not midnight, it was only a little after ten. But the time had come to kiss our sweet blessings goodnight and tuck them in.

Joshua and I, being the hearty party-ers that we are, followed soon after. We have this understanding with the New Year. It can, and will, get here without us. The kids, on the other hand, well, they wake up on their own. But then they need our assistance! Best to rest up and be ready for them! After all, they are one of the best highlights of our Old Year and our New Year.

Anna Joy - 13 Months

I am 13 months and...

...I have three modes of mobility; crawling, walking, and being carried in your arms.
...I am quite opinionated. My lack of verbal language is almost completely negated due to my incredible facial expressions and ability to point with my finger or push away with my hand.
...I am in possession of two, count them, two teeth.
...my lack of teeth does not deter me from eating pretty much anything I want.
...I love my Angel Baby. She is frequently found in my hands having her nose pulled or her eyes poked at. When I am not assaulting her, I tote her around from room to room. She is almost as important as my beloved blanket at bed time.


...I am a climber. If I can get my leg up on it, I will hoist my body up and then stand on it. Whatever IT is.
...my climbing has taught me that rocking chairs are not good things to stand on.
...my temper is picking up and my Daddy refers to me as either Anna Jekyll or Anna Hyde depending on what my mood of the moment is.
...I refuse to take a sippy cup. Or sip from a straw. But I am more than happy to drink like a Big Person out of your cup.
...my sense of humor is also developing and my favorite audience for my antics are my brother and sisters. They never fail to laugh at the least little thing I do!