The Hand that Plays With You

A few weeks ago Perry came to me crying and told me Daisy had bitten him. It was obvious that she must have, by the way he was acting, and he doesn't make up stories, but I asker her anyway. She confirmed it, I spanked her, told her that she may not bite anyone, and sent her to her room for a while.

When she re-emerged, a little while later, I told her to tell Perry she was sorry. She walked over to him and did what I asked. I thought the issue was finished, at least for the time being. Then I heard Perry's worried whining. When I looked up I saw Daisy, dancing around him and chomping in the air--with a big grin.

The Makings of a Martini

David and I were just talking in the kitchen while he fixed himself a martini. He meticulously placed two olives in a cocktail glass, put three ice cubes into the shaker, added some vermouth and gin, admired the beauty of the bottles. Then he put the lid on the shaker and agitated it. Uncapping it, he poured its contents into the glass.

"What is that"

I had seen it too. Something had fallen from the shaker into the glass. Something that wasn't intended to be in there.

David fished it out. It was one of Daisy's little purple hair ties.

My mind zoomed back to this morning when Perry informed me that Daisy had poured the leftover contents of David's shaker from the night before (just water at this point) onto his bed.

The Letter or the Spirit of the Law

I've been held fast in the grip of my enemy Morning Sickness for the past two weeks. Yesterday and today were much better, but before that, I was basically reduced to a lump on the sofa, watching the world swirl around me. David did most of the cooking for me. He's been wonderful!

He's been gone this week painting a house and so dinner tonight fell to me. Thankfully, I was feeling somewhat up to the challenge. Not wanting to heat me or the kitchen up any more than necessary, I resorted to carrot spears dipped in homemade salad dressing. I figure that if I'm going to look for something to simply fill our stomachs, at least this was healthy. I always feel guilty when I don't serve a complete meal. I sit at the table and think We don't have a green vegetable. That means the kids aren't getting enough, um, whatever it is that's supposed to make green vegetables magic. I'm such a horrible mom!

So I just rationalize tonight by saying that we were making up for a lack of beta carotene. Yeah, that's it, beta carotene!

Wishing to dirty as few dishes as possible, I set out a paper plate with carrot spears and a bowl of dressing in the middle of the table. The rule in our house, as I'm sure it is in yours is: (unless you're the type to throw all germ caution to the wind and live a commune-like existence--in which case, more power to you)

No Double Dipping!

Perry has pretty much got this skill mastered. But Daisy, who really just asks for carrots so she can get dressing, is still somewhat lacking it. For the first part of dinner I watched her closely and patiently (see patiently, aren't you proud of me!) corrected her. After a while I figured she had it figured out so I turned my attention toward Calvin who was shoving leftover spaghetti noodles into his mouth like there was no tomorrow. I looked back over at the plate of carrots and noticed that one of them had a little spot of dressing on the end. No big deal, some must have dripped on it from...somewhere. I looked back over at Calvin for a second, then back at the plate of carrots. This time there were three carrots upon it with dressing only on their very tips. I sat silently and observed. Daisy picked up a carrot from the plate, dipped it into the dressing, sucked all the dressing from it (except what was on the very end), placed it back on the plate, then proceeded to do it again with another carrot.

But hey, at least she wasn't double dipping.

New Page Element

I've added a new page element. I saw one on somebody else's blog, liked it and thought I'd add it to my own. I hope it's not too strange for you folks. Let me know, honestly!

For Those of You That Don't Already Know...

...Yesterday morning we confirmed my longtime nauseated stomach's suspicion that we are expecting our fourth little blessing. Most of yesterday was spent phoning our family and so I didn't get time to write anything for whomever else is still out there.

I had been feeling unusually tired and nauseated for a couple of weeks now, but was putting off finding out until I pretty much knew this had to be the only reason for it. I hate taking a pregnancy test and getting my hopes up only to have it turn out negative.

I don't know what it is, but it seems like the moment I discover I'm pregnant, whatever morning sickness and tiredness I felt before suddenly comes in even stronger. It's as if my body says Wow, you're really tired and sick. You should just rest. After all, you've got a good reason! So this morning I got up with Calvin around 6am. A little early for him, but I guess I shouldn't complain, it could have been earlier. Perry got up a half hour later which was wonderful because I sent the two of them to play together in the living room. Daisy woke up really grumpy around 6:45 and so I finally had to drag my lazy body out of bed for good. A few hours later, when we had all finished breakfast and Calvin laid down for his nap, I napped on the sofa. I just couldn't keep my eyes open! I don't think I got more than thirty minutes, but it helped. I mention all this because I did go to bed the night before somewhere between 9:30 and 10:00, which ought to have afforded me enough sleep to stay awake--but then again let me remind you that Calvin is still waking up three times in the middle of the night to nurse.

Anyhow, the kids played today and I kind of puttered around the house, not really getting much of anything done. Am I really expected to? I'm exhausted and sick. Most of my day was consumed with looking for something to eat, finally finding and eating it, suddenly feeling like I have amazing energy and the ability to be Supermom, and then 10-15 minutes later feeling sick again and looking for something else to eat. How can I get anything done when this takes up my waking day? And yet each chore left undone pushes the house a little further down the hill toward The Valley of No Return. From which it takes the miracle working power of St. David to come in and make right what I have so utterly made wrong.

David decided to celebrate the new baby by taking the entire family out to Karin's Kustard. We had a wonderful time eating frozen custard, of which the children ate an amazing amount--but hey, it's not every day we get news like this, right? I have a feeling the kids are going to want to start celebrating all kinds of things now. Mom, we saw the first fireflies of the year. Can we celebrate by getting custard?

After visiting Karin's, we went to the park. It was lovely and the kids had a good time running all that sugar out of their systems. The only problem was that it was very hot (in the 90s today) and it really wiped me out. So home we went and I got another catnap on the sofa while David prepared to go out this evening to his weekly artist's meeting. Wanting to do something quick and easy for dinner, we would up with popcorn and plain yogurt.

There, that's more than I'm sure you ever wanted to know about my day. Have a good one!

Our Little Calvin Pt. 2

Yesterday I thought Calvin had something in his mouth so I fished in there to pull it out. But the only thing I found was the beginnings of his first tooth. I'm really surprised since he's only almost 11 months and both Perry and Daisy were 14 months before they got their first teeth. David, however, is quick to remind me that Calvin, though earlier than his siblings, is still lagging behind others his age.

That's only when it comes to teeth, though. The other day David was playing with Daisy and said "Where's Daisy?" in a sing-song tone. Calvin repeated it! He really did. We were amazed and I kind of thought it was one of those flukes that wouldn't happen again. He's said it a couple of times since, just to prove me wrong, and is trying to say all kinds of other words.

At the risk of sounding cliched: He's just growing up so fast!

Nursery Rhymes

When I was a little girl my mother used to read nursery rhymes to us. There was one, though, that she had a problem with. She would recite it like this:

Peter, Peter pumpkin eater
Had a wife and couldn't keeper her
Put her in a pumpkin shell
And went to jail for wife abuse

I'll say no more about my poor mother and the feminist movement.

Now that I've started reading nursery rhymes to my children, I've found one I don't much like either. I've taken the liberty to rewrite it. Let me know what you think.

There was a blessed woman who lived in a shoe
She had so many children she knew just what to do
She gave them some hugs, some kisses too
Then sent them to bed, loved through and through

Our Little Calvin

For a couple of weeks now Calvin has been pulling up onto his knees. But yesterday he pull all the way up onto his feet for the first time. Since discovering he can do this, he's been trying to climb onto anything just low enough to succeed at. Look out, here he comes!

He's been saying Da da for a little while now, and more recently been saying uh oh. This morning he put the two together as he crawled over David in our bed, "Uh oh, Da da. Uh oh, Da da." Over and over again. I thought it was cute, but at 6am I guess David didn't think so :)

Not Yet

The other day Perry and I were sitting on the sofa together. He was looking through a book and I was nursing Calvin. "Oh" said he with a sigh, "I just want a dog."

"A dog?"

"Yeah."

Mind you, he doesn't even really like dogs. They make him nervous.

"Well, we're not getting a dog."

"Oh, I just want another baby."

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah."

"Did you hear somebody else say that?"

"No, I just want another baby."

"Well, I'm sure God will probably give us another baby at some point."



Frequently one or another of my extended family members will tell me that people come up to them all the time and ask if I'm pregnant yet.

Nope, not yet.

Don't misunderstand me, we still believe in letting God choose when to give us children and how many to give us. I guess He just feels this is not the right time. It's strange, really--since we've been married, this is the longest space of time we've been without expecting a little blessing. I'm earnestly looking forward to the next baby--but I'm thrilled I've been able to nurse Calvin this long! My hope is that God will give us another baby shortly after Calvin turns a year, in July. But if He, as He did with Daisy and Calvin, chooses to bless us before we've weaned the previous baby, we will count ourselves incredibly blessed and praise Him for the new little life. I wouldn't trade or wish away any of my wonderful little ones.

And in case you're wondering, we will never get a dog.

Schadenfreude

It's pronounced SHOD-n-froy-duh, and it's German, so give it a good guttural try. It means: A malicious staisfaction obtained from the misfortunes of others. As in, I felt pleanty of Schadenfreude when Perry, having a temper tantrum, threw his head back and hit it on the floor. The Germans capitalize it, so you will often see it that way.

This was our Word of the Day today; and with it we stumped David. Congratulate us!

Word of the Day

We've started a new game at our house. Every morning the kids and I visit dictionary.com and look up the Word of the Day. I read it to them along with the definition. I make sure they can say the word and try to explain it so they can really understand it. Then, when it's time to get David up, the kids and I tell him the Word of the Day and see if he knows its definition. So far we've done this for five consecutive days and we have been unable to stump Dad. I'm not really surprised, though. I'll let you know when we discover one he doesn't know.

Family Picture

This was taken in South Florida, in front of my in-law's home.

Nocturnal Musical Chairs

It's a quarter till 8pm. Daisy has been in bed for two hours and fifteen minutes (explanation to follow) and Perry and Calvin in bed for forty-five. Perry came out about a half hour ago and said that he needed to wipe his nose. I gave him a handkerchief and sent him back to bed. I've been checking my e-mail for a little while now and he just popped out of his room again--mind you, he's supposed to be asleep and not getting out of his bed. Handing me his handkerchief all wadded up into a ball he said, "this handkerchief doesn't work anymore."

"Why?"

"Oh, because God made it that way."

I guess he's heard that answer a lot.



Now, as for why Daisy went to bed so early this evening? That's an easy one. No nap this afternoon. You know, I used to hear people talk about their young children that refused to nap and think That's not going to be me. They'll take a nap until I'm good and ready for them to quit. I don't care if they're 18. Well, this afternoon Daisy refused.

She refused at least eight times.

She got up numerous times in her room and I was so afraid she would wake up Perry that I finally put her down in the Pack 'n Play I have set up in my room for Calvin (The last time I found her awake and out of her bed she had crawled in with Perry and was reading. All while Perry was asleep!).

In my room she got up too many times to count. Eventually it was time for Calvin to go down for a nap so I just stuck him in his crib in the kids' room. Then when Daisy got up again I tried laying down with her in my bed. Of course that didn't work either.

So, no nap for Daisy today.

David has been out most of the day today so it was just the kids and I for dinner tonight. At about 5:15 or so Daisy was a little fussy. I told her that if she kept up the complaining I would send her to her room. I was just remembering that she hadn't taken a nap this afternoon when she got down from her highchair, walked to her room and shut the door. I'm embarrassed to say I was too busy scarfing down my dinner to pay her much notice. When I had had my fill I checked on her. I found her asleep on Perry's bed. I closed the door and let her stay there, thinking I'd sort it all out later.

About an hour later she woke up crying. When I went in to check on her she didn't actually seem to be very wakeful. I asked her if she wanted to go to bed and she nodded her head (it's hard to respond verbally when you're sucking on your fingers). I picked her up, put her in her bed and I haven't heard a peep from her since.

I really hope tomorrow is an easier day than today was.



Oh, and by the way, in case you're wondering, we did discipline her each time we caught her out of bed.

How to Pronounce the Word "Airplane"

If you can stick your tongue out of your mouth on the right side for the first syllable, move it to the left side for the second syllable, and somehow still manage to say "airplane" somewhat decipherably, then I'd have to call you Daisy.

Today was the air show here in Smyrna. Now, how on earth little Smyrna managed to score an air show is beyond me, but that's beside the point. The main topic of interest this past Thursday, Friday, most of today, and I'm afraid tomorrow too, has been the airplanes themselves. More specifically, it's been the noise they create. Each time a plane flew over, Daisy cried and clung to us. It's been a LONG couple of days.

Then this evening we drove my mother to the airport (she's been visiting). This must have just been too much exposure to airplanes for one weekend because it was all Daisy could talk about when we got home. First it was, "more airplane." When we told her that the air show was finished and the planes "all gone," and she finally understood this, she walked around saying "allgone airplane, allgone airplane".

Over, and over, and over again.

She told us. She told her brothers. She told her dinner. And when David asked her to please stop saying it, she whispered it a few more times.

There was really no stopping it, I guess, so after dinner David made up a little song about it--while Daisy wandered around talking about the airplanes. She even pointed to one of David's abstract paintings and said there was a plane in it.

It was hilarious, really, to watch her say all this with her tongue out of her mouth.

Regarding The Love of My Life

Ok, let me first tell you that I would never leave a bottle of red lamp oil just sitting on the floor of the office. So that leaves four other people in my house that might. Three, really since it's unfair to count Calvin.

I walked into the office a little while ago to check my e-mail. It's not so much an office, really. The computer is in it with all David's office equipment, but so is the dryer and all the clean, folded (and unfolded) laundry. Maybe "office" is a good name for it since it's just as much David's office as it is mine. We affectionally call it The Brown Room (the walls are brown--gosh we're creative).

Before I could sit down in front of the computer I noticed that a bottle of red lamp oil was lying on it's side on the floor. Underneath it was a small pile of computer disks from David's clients. If I am not mistaken, these disks are irreplaceable audio files for David to edit, re-burn send back to the client. Don't get me wrong, I say "irreplaceable" not only because they are important. I'm serious, the guys that record them don't actually save what they record onto anything else. These disks are the only copies. And, of course, they are now covered in red lamp oil.

Like I said, I would never leave a bottle of lamp oil on the floor. The last time I saw the bottle it was on a shelf too hight for the kids to reach. My suspicion on who left it there? Well, let me just tell you that the kitchen scissors are also on the floor--underneath David's chair, where he placed them after he used them to trim his toenails while we watched a movie last night.

Because nothing says "Date Night" like trying to watch a Jane Austen film adaptation through the snow of your husband's flying toenail clippings.

Two New Things

Daisy can now get out of her crib by herself. It's a wonderful thing to have two little children open our bedroom door, climb upon our bed and snuggle me awake. What a perfect way to start the day!

Calvin is a little creeper. He can now use his hands and toes to creep his way toward a toy that is just out of reach. I'm awestruck watching him learn to use his arms and legs in conjunction.

Parenting: it never gets old.

A Dirty Post

Daisy finished lunch about a half and hour before nap time today so I sent her outside to play with David whom I noticed was roaming around the front yard, examining the plants. Perry, not to be outdone, soon followed. I finished my lunch and then moved on to the computer. I was in the middle of checking my e-mail when I heard noises at the front door. It was David, slowly followed by a crying Daisy. She had fallen into the mud. Her pants and half her shirt were drenched in that awful wet clay that is so likely to stain. I pulled off her clothes, carried her in at arm's length and stuck her into the tub. Perry jumped in shortly after.

They did this last Saturday and Sunday too, minus the falling and crying, and wile it is a good way to make sure they get a bath everyday, it's creating a laundry quandary. I fear my kids won't be fit to be seen in public because all their clothes will contain orange clay stains.

Anybody out there who stumbles upon this entry and has any suggestions on how to remove clay from clothing, I'm very happy for the help.

The Downward Spiral of Snacks

Perry's new favorite thing is to ask for a snack. He asks all the time. But I know it's not always because he's hungry. I can tell by his requests. "I want something sweet on bread" are the first words he utters upon waking from his nap.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

I used to be the Health-Food-on-a-Budget guru. For at least one of their birthdays I didn't even make cake because I felt it was too sweet--despite the fact that it was a once a year celebration.

Today I made cupcakes. What was the occasion? Well, it's Saturday, isn't it?

Restless

Tonight I put the kids to bed a little earlier than usual. Last night they were up extremely late and were very fussy today, despite their sleeping in, so I thought they would be ready to turn in at 6pm. They settled in quickly and I thought Mommy Time would come early tonight. However, halfway through doing the dishes, I heard crying. I walked to their bedroom door, stood outside and listened. I could hear Calvin and Daisy crying and Perry making some sort of noises. When I walked in I saw that Perry had turned the light on and was sitting on his bed, "reading" a book out loud. No wonder the two little ones were crying! I quickly fixed the situation and now we have quiet again. Who knows how long it will last, though.

Daisy: The Were-Seal