I've Decided...

... to dig a hole in Iowa and live in it.

This will be easier.

The end.

Daylight Savings

Justin and I thought that this morning we would be able to wake up and have a few moments to sleep in. After all, our children would still be sleeping until what they thought was 7:00... now 8:00.

Sure, our bodies hadn't changed over either, but just the idea of it felt good.

Well, whoever told my kids it was daylight savings should be fired.

They woke up an hour earlier than usual in honor of the day.

Snippy

Today I have felt snippy. Poor behavior.

My children have taken to playing baby. This entails screaming and whining. Then when I ask them to stop... okay, let's be honest: Then when I snippily tell them to stop they say:

"It's not me, it's the baby."

By the end of the day I was threatening to throw all the babies in the garbage.

Great. I am a parenting queen, I tell you what.

Right now Justin is buying me a Butterfinger Shake. He called to tell me that today was "free fries with your milkshake day".

I am so glad.

I have tried to write a post all day, but I felt too snippy to do so.

But at least you all got to look at a cute picture of GQ.

And at least I get free fries.

With fry sauce.

I leave you with this excellent poem by The Pioneer Woman which describes me to a LARGE T on my snippy day, complete with tongue in cheek:

I'm a dull weed

Choking the spirit of my garden cohabitants

With my prickly shoots.

I hate.

I hate much.

I love although I hate.

My children whither in my noxious shade

Because I won't let them use glitter.

They dream.

They dream much.

Of sparkly planets with glitter moms and painting with their many digits.

Dream on, losers.

Ree, The Pioneer Woman

News in Family Cuisine

Confession:

I have actually never tried oatmeal.

Maybe I tried it once on a trip with Emily and Laura, but that may have been Cream of Wheat.

Sometimes I think of trying it when I make E and M their new breakfast. They've actually grown to like it.

But then I get frightened and eat cold cereal again. Pathetic.

In other eating news:

GQ has decided nursing is for babies... and that he isn't one anymore.

While I can get him to eat at night and usually once during the day, that's about it.

Since this is when the girls stopped nursing too, I am left to think that my milk must start tasting like - I don't know - oatmeal??? around eight months.

Now when I try to feed him during the day he just grins at me like I must be stupid, and if I keep trying he bites me.

I would be sad about this except that it would be nice to stop losing too much weight and looking like a skeleton. Also, this means that Justin and I can pawn all the children off on some unwary grandparent for more than eight hours.

Deliberating Iowa While GQ Plays With a Fake Strawberry

When I was in highschool, I went to New York with my ballet studio. While we spent a lot of time dancing, we also visited some art museums. I came home with this print in my luggage:

Since I am not much of an art person, I cannot tell you why I feel the way I do about this painting. I simply always loved this painting. It held in it a kind of yearning that I felt inside of me.

What that yearning might be is completely beyond me.

Does it seem ironic that I might be moving someplace that looks like this? Okay, I think that it is supposed to be much greener in Iowa in the summer, but cover all that brown and yellow paint up with white, and put some mittens on the woman and I think you might have it about right.

Sometimes I am excited for that. Sometimes I am scared.

Perhaps that is what this woman is feeling.

I look at housing daily to get an idea of what is out there for whenever we make our decisions. There are lots of apartment complexes in the city in our price range, but it is hard for me to imagine living on the third floor without a washer and dryer with my three children.

Today I saw a "country house" in our price range with the kind of space I would really like. In my completely ridiculous way I imagined myself in this place.

Being able to let my kids out to play without worrying whether they were going to be hit by a car.

Trying a small garden.

Watching snow fall outside from the window. Oh, it definitely seemed poetic.

But then, wait. Watching snow fall outside from the window?

Watching snow fall outside the window. Watching it pile up, and lock me in my house, from the window?

Hmmmmm. Maybe this is not such a good idea.

But maybe it is.

I can hardly tell anymore.

Just like I can't decide if I would send E to kindergarten. In Iowa she is eligible, but only by days. And they have full day kindergarten. School from eight to three-thirty.

Other than the fact that M might die of boredom and loneliness, this does seem a little scary.

My little E, gone all day? Who would talk my ear off for the majority of the day?

Oh, I am feeling some angst. It's not teenage angst. It's mother angst. It's when did I grow up and have to make real decision angst.

It is what I see in that picture. It is in my heart.

Speaking of GQ Eating... Peas Please

I love how he shakes his head. So funny. I feed him two bites of peaches, and then one bite of peas. Or he'd never open his mouth.

Snow Day

This morning, when I woke up, I felt like doing nothing.

Then, I looked out the window and saw that it was Winter outside.


A few things needed to be done. Children fed... lunch packed for Justin....

Then, my engine stalled. I decided to call a snow day for myself.

So, instead of:

A.) Dressing the children

and

B.) Cleaning my house

I.... let the children dress themselves:

And decided to read a book all day. Sue me.

This week, I was talking with a friend about work. She mentioned that she'd finally decided that she wasn't going to be excited about going to work every day, and she had to accept that. I didn't have anything to say. I love my job.

Okay, I don't love being yelled at. Or cleaning the kitchen floor for the 122nd time in the day at only 8:00 a.m. Or making dinner.

But I do love my job.

It has its perks. Like calling yourself a snow day. Or getting hugs.

I was listening to "Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm" in the car yesterday. A slightly boring book so far. ("The Willoughbys" was better - thanks Laura - although it slightly disturbed E that the children are trying to get rid of their parents through-out the book.) Anyway, in the book, Rebecca has a pink parasol. She won't put it up in the sun because the color would be bleached. She says something like:

"It is the dearest thing to me in the world, though it does require much care."

This reminded me of my children.

Dearest, Dearest, Dearest.

Even if there is much care.

Well, I did feed them today, and who cares if they wear pink tutus and ballet slippers all day. It's a snow day.

E drew this picture of her sister and herself earlier this week. I LOVE how she draws M's pigtails. She always draws them that way. She also drew a frame around the picture and insisted I hang it on the wall so it could be REAL artwork.

We have heard back from 2 more schools this week saying "no". The "no" list includes:

University of North Carolina

Columbia University

University of Illinois, Urbana-Champagne

University of Chicago

Boston College

Florida was interested, but we couldn't commit there, so that's out for the count. And Duke has said we're 4th on their list. They're taking 2 students this year.

Would Justin go to Duke if they offered? He is unsure.

As for me? I would like to go to the University of Iowa in North Carolina.

Since this is extraordinarily possible, I am sure it will happen.

SURE.

If you see M sometime, ask her to say "North Carolina". I want to live in North Carolina so that she can tell people she's from North Carolina.

Yesterday, while watching HGTV at Grandma's while I fed GQ, E commented on a couple buying an extremely large house:

"Two offices????? Two offices for one Daddy?????"

It made me laugh.

Last night I went to bed at 12:00. At 2:00, GQ wanted his binky. At 4:00, it was time to feed him. At 6:30, M woke up screaming "MOOOOMMMMMMYYYYYY" at the top of her lungs.

She woke up E in the process.

I once read a parenting book that said you should just admit you weren't going to sleep through the night ever again and get over it.

I rarely read parenting books. They are full of a bunch of crazy people with crazy research telling me I'm crazy.

Anyway, maybe I don't sleep through the night.

But I get to call the snow days.

And so,

I love my job.

Dearest, Dearest, Dearest.

Though it does require care.

I guess I should go feed GQ.

Visiting with the Visitors... and other Group Photos...

Aunt Em and the boys came down last weekend, so GQ got a preview of his next year's winter get-up. We loved visiting and seeing how much they've changed and grown since we saw them last.


Now, that is a great photo. Or not. Whatever.

My roommate from college also came through town last weekend, so those of us around these parts all got together. I think we've multiplied, don't you? If we'd all been there we would have had two more roommates and six more kiddos. That's six adults and twelve kids. It's been a busy six years, hasn't it?

The grandkids on grandma's couch. Yes, several children are moving. Oh well.

GQ doesn't look like a giant very often, but he did when we met Cousins Mia and Adrian:

End Group Photo Shoot.