Don't they look Angelic?

I may or may not have just put my children to bed one hour earlier than their normal bedtime. And this may or may not be the second week in a row I have done this when Justin went to his Wednesday meetings. (Survival, folks, survival.)

Since I have not taught E to tell time well enough to understand how time relates to the day (she does know she gets to wake up at 7:00 am, but that's about the extent of it) and since I have given the "in the summer we go to bed when it's lighter outside" speech, they are really none the wiser.

(Yet another reason to avoid kindergarten - E might learn that 6:30 pm is quite a bit earlier than 7:30 pm. Bad idea.)

So, why to bed so early? Because I did not want to spend the rest of the evening yelling at them, my exhaustion - not theirs - being the deciding factor. You see, I knew I could not behave for another hour.

I actually have done really well this week with the yelling thing. I have been reading a parenting book that I've read before. (It's the only parenting book I've ever read. I don't do well with people telling me what to do, and I generally avoid parenting literature. It just plain irritates me.) But this book only talks about being kind and generous and using the Golden Rule in your home. These are things I believe in already - so I don't mind the book bossing me about it - but I often don't find the strength to really do them. Still, I find that if I read just a little of this book each day I see more meaning behind the struggle to not flip out when M asks me for the 80 billionth time if she can have a cookie, jump on the table, lick the windows, or flood the toilet.

For fun, Mom, for fun.

But it is harder to be generous than to yell. It is harder to help than to delegate or order. It is harder to hug when I'm yelled at then to send someone to their room. And by 6:30, I am worn out with keeping my cool and trying to - as one Church leader put it - "be the saint."

(Full quote: "If there be need of a Saint, be that Saint." Not that I consider myself anywhere near a saint. We're talking yelling reduction here, the day I accomplish yelling deletion will be a total miracle.)

I knew that I was past my point of no return when I had to say to the girls - I did say it C - A - L - M - L - Y, (between gritted teeth) - "Mommy needs a rest, so you need to sit on those chairs in the kitchen while I make dinner."

This was so I would know that M was not swinging the pictures off of their nails downstairs, that E was not putting every toy in her corner and assigning it a task that no other child could interfere with, or that GQ was not using any leftover toy as a temporary baseball bat (his sisters' heads being the balls).

Strangely enough, considering the screaming banshees they'd been moments before, E and M sat down - E sullen, M happily eyeing the pictures on the kitchen walls - they might swing too, you know.

I left the room for a minute, and when I came back I realized how ridiculous my "sit and face the wall" edict had been. For there - copying his sisters as closely as possible, was GQ.

He had gotten out his own chair, drug it to the wall, and sat down on it dutifully. Then he turned around and giggled at his sisters. As though to say: "Mommy's crazy, but whatever... I'll do it too."

In my defense - is my position defensible? - we are suffering from "almost two-years-old" syndrome here.

You know: screaming, hitting, swearing in baby language, whining and other such fun two-year-old antics.

As an added bonus, E and M have decided that if GQ can get away with screaming in the middle of the kitchen floor they might as well try it too. Why not?

I'll tell you why not.... because you are all driving your mother I-N-S-A-N-E.

(Although you are all very cute after you fall asleep, when I look at you in your baby pictures, and... and... and... when you give me hugs, yes that too.)

See, they are cute.  Really, they are.

Anyway, after getting off our chairs and having dinner, and despite GQ's attempted intervention, crazy Mommy sent them all to bed.

Don't worry. They are happily listening to a book on tape, convinced it is bedtime.

And I am hiding. Confession: I already feel better.

And honestly, an early bedtime never hurt anyone, did it?

Just don't tell the kids that when I shut their window I spied some neighbor kids outside playing games together.

Seriously...

... what is up with blogger not putting spaces between my paragraphs? Because I can not publish without spaces between my paragraphs. Usually I solve this by uploading a picture - I don't know why this fixes it - but right now it won't even upload pictures. So, can someone smarter than me tell me what's wrong with my Html code?

*****Okay... I just switched to the new editor and it fixed all my above problems.  Yes, Justin, sometimes updates are good.

Conversation

M: Princesses fall in love with Princes.

E: But they don't really fall.

M: No, if they really fell they would bonk their heads.

All I've Got

M's favorite ballet pose - which she thinks she made up - is, ironically, an "attitude." She's actually really good at it too, for a 3 year old. I'll have to post a picture of it - you know, once I get around to taking one. (I've been meaning to for 3 days now.)

****

GQ is very disappointed to discover that baketball is over for the season. He actually calls Justin's Itouch "baketball."

I just realized that I don't even know what GQ's first word was. E's was "all done." (She didn't like having her face washed.) M's was "quack." And GQ slurred for so long we didn't realize there were real sentences in there. So, I think we'll just say it's "baketball." And soon enough, I'll have forgotten so much I'll even have forgotten that I just "decided" that.

****

Today, I finally got set apart for my calling at Church. E, M, and GQ were all present.

While my eyes were closed, E and M started giggling.

Justin - who was helping with the blessing - shhhed them, and I put a finger up to my lips.

Soon enough we got to know what they were giggling about.

GQ turned the lights off.

Then he turned them back on.

Then I managed to get him on my lap.

Whereupon he reached up, put his hand on my head, and helped with the blessing himself.

I guess he's growing up more quickly than I thought.

M's Travelogue

Sometimes M just can't help herself. At least, I think that's how it goes. Honestly... for all her errant ways... I don't think she thinks: "Self, let's go cause trouble," I think she just happens on it. A lot.

And she often happens on it in the downstairs bathroom.

This is because the downstairs bathroom door does not shut or lock properly. Let me tell you I have tried to lock it and end its existence. But all it takes is a gentle push on the doorknob upward, and voila... entry accomplished. (Why I oughta!)

So, when M goes potty, GQ often joins her.
**Cue foreboding music**
And when GQ joins her, and Mommy is one flight, or two flights of stairs away then....

A person just can't help shoving an entire roll of toilet paper down the toilet.
A person just can't help putting a necklace down there too.
A person just can't help flushing the toilet repeatedly until the bowl runneth over.
And a person just can't help jumping up and down with her brother in the glorious puddle, or stirring fragments of toilet paper in the spinning water - when trying to flush it once more.

I mean, truthfully, if you didn't know about bacteria and toilet fumes and other such disgusting realities of life, don't you think it would be fun too?

Spring Break is Over

Last night, M wanted to try sleeping without a diaper. While I am not much invested in this process (or the laundry associated with it), the thought occurred to me that she would eventually have to learn this skill, and I might as well let her try while she wanted to - even if I felt like being a slacker mom.

At 5:00 this morning, M woke me up to change her jammies and her sheets. Oh well. It actually turned out really well because I decided that since I was up I might as well make Justin's lunch (his alarm goes off at 5:15). And then, since I was awake, I just got going on my day. Since we have had Spring Break, and sickness, and an unordinary month in February.... it has been a while since I have had one of those "accomplish a lot" days.

So - drumroll please - I finished the bumblebee costumes:


I really liked them, which makes it even more imperative to get the flower costumes up to snuff. Even E noticed the difference - "Mom, hers has more sparkles than mine."

E likes to dress herself and anyone else who will let her (M does not let her - surprise, surprise). I've managed to get her to "match" the clothes she picks for GQ - he ends up monochromatic, but that's better than psycho - but her version of matching her own clothes is a little shady.

The pink underskirt in this photo is a favorite of hers. I picked it up at a trading clothes event. Free, I thought. Pink, I thought. E will love it, I thought. And so I picked it up. This was a BAD choice. This dress has an elastic waistband and Justin and I are pretty sure E will be able to wear it until she's 12. She often "saves" it for special events - events where she goes out in public - and then pairs it with pink and purple tights.

In this case she chose to wear it under a favorite dress of hers because "the dress is getting short and so it's kind of like a shirt." Later in the day, while we played outside, she wore her brown winter boots with it. If only I could be so stylish.

Speaking of style: M and GQ decided to wear their Christmas jammies to bed tonight. Perhaps they are expecting Santa tomorrow? I guess that's not too odd of a thought since I totally forgot St. Patrick's day and we ended up celebrating 2 days later.

M took this picture of me. In it you can see the really great job I did cutting my bangs this last time around. I think I do it well 1/3 times. Which means I pretty much have 4 weeks in the year when my bangs look normal instead of too short, too long, or too crooked.

E took this photo: Forgive the bug eyes.

A Bigger GQ

Before it got too windy and cold, we played outside today.

GQ started chasing leaves.

When we moved here, he couldn't walk - now - he chases leaves. Running the way only a one-year-old can run. Trundle, drag, lean - arms flared behind him.

When he got too far, I yelled out for him to come back to his Momma.

He turned around and yelled at me.

Then, when I said he shouldn't yell at his Momma, he started spitting.

Leaning over at me, spitting, lips in a kissy-face despite himself.

He shambled away from the leaf, looking daggers at me.

Then he saw another one. But the wind - it was still blowing away from me.

Come back, his Momma yelled again.

He turned and spat, then shambled back again.

Good boy, I yelled and clapped, good listening boy.

And he clapped too, suddenly pleased with the whole thing, not spitting anymore, but running back to me.

The Only Pictures I've Taken In Weeks

We have received lots of packages lately. I bet the UPS guy thinks we're independently wealthy. Ha Ha, the trick's on him. Aunt Shelley sent the kids a Mardi Gras package with these great pony headbands and tails. GQ was slightly confused why he didn't get one - um, GQ, you're a BOY - but then I gave him the crab and he was happy.

Aren't they lucky to have such a creative aunt since my version of pony-tail has to do with an elastic and "not" doing your hair for the day?

These are my "flower" costumes for the upcoming Spring Concert I'm doing for ballet class. I'm not impressed with how they came out. The leg warmers are supposed to be like stems, but I'm not so much liking them now that it's all put together. The costumes have to be simple because some of the students don't like costumes at this age... but this is looking tooooo simple. I am thinking a green leaf on the tutu? But leaves are not on top of flowers. So, that kind of bugs me. I saw a drawing of these really cool headpieces that I wish I'd done... but now I already have headpieces. Grrr.

Besides, I was supposed to have my bumblebees done by February, and February did not accomplish much for me as far as ballet costumes go. I have sewn the stripes on their leotards, but I have not added wings or done their headpieces and it is - MARCH. So, until I get my bumblebees done, and my March Rainbows done... the flowers go on the back-burner.

Today

About two months ago one of the "strings" in the blinds in our bedroom broke. (I am sure I know all the correct vocabulary.) So, since the blinds didn't open anymore, we had been in the dark - other than artificial light - which stinks!

Yesterday I had a mini-fit and took my screwdriver to the thing. One of those moments where you may or may not cut a hole in the wall if that's what it takes to let a little sun in. But I'll have you know I even took it down correctly. (Luckily it did not require reading instructions, or that would have been a no-go.) Now I have sun again, and I am so happy.

*****

I got so sick this week I actually had to lay in bed one day. I am not sure what the children did, but they get a zillion stars for not breaking anything and for letting me sleep off a highly yucko fever.

I think, however, it is total luck they didn't break anything because since then they have dyed the kitchen table pink - with washable markers, how does that work? - and set up a water conveyor belt from the downstairs bathroom sink to the middle of the family room floor.

Yes, M was a major player in both of these projects.

*****

Next week is Spring Break. Justin and I thought of going to Nebraska and seeing the zoo they have there - it's supposed to be good. We also thought of going to St. Louis.

Then, we decided to stay home and take our kids to the Pet Store. I am 100 percent serious.

(By the way, they will just as fun of a time.)

*****

Due to GQ's excessive whining disorder, he has been regressed to a morning nap as well as an afternoon nap. It makes it harder to get him to sleep at night but at least he smiles during the day.

Since he has stopped whining, M has increased her output to keep our whining platform at a normal level. Isn't that thoughtful of her? Maybe she was always doing it and I just couldn't hear her before.

*****

E is downstairs making her own illustrated copy of the Book of Mormon while the other kids sleep. It starts with the story of the Creation, so either it's actually the Bible or she's got a hold of the 116 missing pages. That girl is cute.

Can I Say White Trash? Is that Politically Correct?

I'm not really sure.

But consider.

This morning, I took Justin to school. We all piled in the car: pajamas, unbrushed teeth and hair, snotty noses/cheeks. A fine looking crew, I must say.

Since M's had a fever since Thursday I decided to call the Pediatric clinic while we were parked outside his school and make a sick appointment for her.

And guess what? They had one available at 8:30. Which meant I could "swing by" on my way home.

Apparently it is too nice to shave off one extra "outing" because I obviously am willing to embarrass myself a little too much.

So, off we went. Snotty noses and all.

No, I did wipe down GQ's face in the car. And I patted my hair down too. And zipped up my jacket, because you know... I had been planning on going home.

I think my favorite moment at the Dr's office - despite the fact that M was wearing Cody's blue snow boots with her pink princess pajamas - was when the Dr. decided to take a look at GQ too.

You see, last night, before bed, when I looked at his MAJORLY dirty onesie I thought.... aw, I'll just change that in the morning.

So, there he was, in all his enchilada sauce and snot streaked glory.

And do you think they wondered why all my kids were hacking up their lungs?

Like I said, white trash.

Although, I don't think I should really use that term.

B's and D's

GQ's talking is a little more slurred than his sisters'. This means that whenever he says goodbye to someone he says, over and over:

"Die, Die, Die."

Not the most comforting thought.

Singing Time

Lately M enjoys singing this song:

"When my mother calls me, I do not obey."

Seriously.

She also sings:

"When my Ellie calls me, quickly I obey."

She is nothing if not honest.