Instagram...

I have the following questions about Instagram:

1.  Do I have to post every picture I take?
2.  How do I make more than one picture go on the same post?

I am lame-o and don't get it.

Mother's have inspiration....

The Friday after school started, Justin had a get-together with people he works with.  Generally we don't make it to these outings because we have four troublemakers to deal with - but they were invited this time.  Before we left the house, I thought:  "I should check GQ's diaper."

I did not.

Upon arrival, GQ's shorts were completely soaked (okay, okay, so I am a slacker at changing his diaper... we're potty-training now).  I looked in the "Emergency Bag" which apparently has not been updated since M was GQ's age.

Hence the pink pants:

WITH flowers on the bottom.

What is funnier is that because my girls pick their own clothes and have so much amazing fashion sense, I had specifically picked GQ's and Baby S's clothes to look normal so that I could at least seem somewhat normal myself.  Yes, I apparently do still care somewhat that other adults don't think I pick outfits like the following:

I suppose I should get over it.

A long time ago, when summer was young...

... my kids had all their hair, and we started a garden.

(We were informed that in Iowa we would rarely need to water, but this summer proved to be different.  Still, we enjoyed a lot of garden tomatoes which just so happens to be the most wonderful thing ever.)

Our fellow gardener's took these photos and passed them along to us.

Looking at these photos make me wish that:

1.  We could start summer over again.
2.  I had not cut off all of my kids' hair.

3.  I still had a garden fresh tomato to make a tomato sandwich with.

1st Grader!

Look at this wonderful 1st grader!  Boy, do we love her.  And we miss her now too!  M and GQ hardly know what to do with themselves now that E has disappeared. 

Since I was suffering from bad haircut guilt I had her shower the night before school and then I actually pulled the blow-dryer out from its crate under the sink.  I don't really know how to use it, but I made my best effort.  E was a little irritated because she's never had her hair "done" that way by me.  I'm usually a braider.  Anyway, we dried the hair, and cut off some more crooked parts (she was a little suspicious when I pulled out the scissors - I am SO buying one of those cutters you suggested Gaylene!). 

We had also gone to pick out a back-to-school outfit, which is a first for E.  Last year I - cough, cough - made fun of her clothes choices.  But then when I packed for our trip and tried to find outfits that matched, I found out how difficult it is to make the leftover wardrobes of four different girls come out to anything remotely matching.  So, this year we got to pick some things that matched when they arrived.  Since then, E has really taken to the whole matching thing and she likes to color-code her days.

I also told E I would let her have a treat after school if she tell me every detail of her school-day.  Last year she always informed me that "she didn't remember."  This from the girl who remembers some random thing I told her three years ago that means I have to let her do something today.  Usually I don't do snacks because I am lazy that way and it means I don't have to cook/clean an extra thing and that my kids are more likely (slightly) to eat their dinner.  E was very excited - kind of embarrassing - "I can REALLY have a SNACK????"  So, now she tells me about her day and eats her snack.

I am currently trying not to be insane about the whole public school thing.  But it is kind of weird out here because unlike Utah where they have 80 gazillion kids and appreciate volunteers, in Iowa they have 16 kids and would really like it if you never entered the school door.  (Justin would say I'm exaggerating, but I really feel like anytime I bring up that I would like to volunteer in the classroom the teacher gives me this look like I'm Napoleon trying to take over the world.  The "Claire Jones" part of me wants to stage an actual invasion.  Justin offered to make me a Napoleon hat.)

E's favorite thing about school - as far as I can tell - is that they have a Guinea Pig (that thinks your fingers are carrots) and that she can pull up grass at recess and analyze the root systems. 

Yes, I meant to have four of them.

When people find out I have four children under 7, they are usually incredulous.  But one of the reasons I like having so many kids is because I was a loner at home.  My closest sibling is 10 years older than me, and all of my siblings grew up much more with each other than they did with me.  So, I love to see my own kids enjoying each other and loving each other and - of course - driving each other batty.

In the bathtub:

(In this picture, Baby S looks so much like E as baby that I hardly "see" it as him anyway.)

And loving on their brother:

He does look a little concerned in the midst of that squishy love-fest.

"Summer lovin' had me a bla-ast, summer lovin' happened so fa-ast....

met a girl "climbing a tree", met a boy cute as can be...."

We had one last lovely day before summer started and we had to get to bed at a reasonable time.  (Although why we try with M and GQ I am not exactly sure.  They prefer to throw blankets/books/dolls/ at each other until 9:30 anyway.)

This is E climbing the tree out front.  It hasn't occurred to her to go up higher than that yet.

New school/birthday outfit from Grandma:

Don't I look angelic?

Don't be fooled!!!!

Back to School

In the summer, in the morning, I lie in bed.  Justin does not leave at 5:30 as he does during the school-year.  Baby S wakes up, eats, and joins us in our laziness.  And around 6:45 the other kiddoes rush in.  There are days that I keep my eyes closed and pretend to be sleeping, days that I give up on not being jumped on - and get out to make the bed, and days where we all manage to get along and be lazy for a half hour more.

And sometimes - instead of debating who has the best spot, who stole who's pillow, who kicked who, who's hungry, and whether or not E is screaming or talking in her regular voice - we have fun:

Which brings me to my point.

(You know, the one about me hating school.)

E goes to school on Thursday.  She will be in 1st grade.  And I am not excited about losing her again.

On Friday E joined Justin and I on our get-away date.  We ate BBQ and went to pick out a "back to school" outfit.  Since E has half a heart that wishes she were an only child (the other half enjoys people to boss/love) she had a great time. 

I cannot believe she will be gone on Thursday.  Which is why I quite enjoyed the homeschooling magazine I suscribed to last year when it arrived in my mailbox this week.  But I did eventually throw it away.  Sigh.

All because JCPenney did not send me a text...

Two years ago we moved to Iowa, and after getting everyone settled, I did this:

That is, I cut E and M's hair.  Let's just say that no one was very pleased with me.  E actually cried when I was finished.  Justin was horrified I'd cut off M's curls.  I was told to give back the scissors and contain myself from there on out.

Then, showing lots of self-control, I did this the following year:

Not so very terrible.  And E did request it this time.  I stayed away from M's hair, and did not get in trouble.

This year I never intended to cut the girl's hair.  But E kept bringing up that she might like layers or bangs.  And M kept insisting she wanted her hair cut to her chin.  Justin even agreed that M's hair was getting a little out of hand.  So, being reasonable, I decided to make hair appointments.  A friend here let us know that JCPenney would be offering free haircuts to school-aged children through-out August.  I decided to take E and M, and pay half for each cut.

I made Justin call and make the appointment.  (Because the phone is an evil device that I don't enjoy very much.  Those of you who have tried to call me know my feelings on the matter.)

JCPenney informed me they would text me with the time for the hair appointment.  But - insert sinister music - they never did.

Which is how this:

and this:

resulted in this:

Again. 

Please, someone take my scissors away!!!  This time around, E cried once more.  I had cut it much shorter than she had wanted.  M was overjoyed, but hinted she might like it shorter.  And Justin tried not to say anything, but was more than ready to take the girls to Great Clips to get it all sorted out.  He also told some story about how his mother had nicely told his father that maybe when the car was broken he should just take it to a mechanic, implying - I suppose - that I should never, ever, ever, ever cut the girls' hair again.

The girls are happy now, but I am hoping, hoping, hoping that I will manage to never do this again.