Paper Monger

Spencer loves paper. Loves, loves, loves it. He loves to eat it, to crinkle it, to rip it, to slobber all over it, and to eat it some more. If we leave a magazine within his reach, it's shredded in seconds. If a paper book is left lying around where he can grab it, it ends up getting sent to the recycling pile. (And don't even bother trying to give him one of those cardboard books. He can't be bothered with pages that don't tear.) 

Incidentally, if he spends any amount of time unattended in a room with a trash can full of receipts and paper scraps, well, you can just see for yourself what he's capable of.

His shirt says "I Love My Mom." His actions say otherwise.

P.S. You better believe he loved his front-row seat to the winter games this year

P.P.S. It's pictures like this that seriously make me want to go wake him up and play with him.
'Cause paper eater or not, he truly melts my heart every moment I lay eyes on him.

Reunited (And It Feels So Good...)

I have an amazing friend, Sarah, with whom I am able to share many of the stresses and messes of the daily, unglamorous, stay-at-home-mom life. If I ever need validation, or reassurance, or just plain old-fashioned grown-up conversation, she is always just a phone call or a text message away. I feel truly blessed to have her as a constant in my life, even if the majority of our communication has to be over the phone. Since we moved from Laveen, the chances I have to actually spend time with her are pretty few, but thankfully we do still manage to get together every once a while to lament the fact that we are no longer carpool buddies who live a mere ten minutes away from each other.

Our older kiddos, on the other hand, are not so lucky, since the only time Sarah and I can really get together is during school hours and the kids are, of course, at school. I've had to make it a habit to try not to let it slip when I've seen Sarah, because then J and Vanna start with the standard gasping and "that's not fair"-ing, and I have to reassure them that we'll try to get together with their friends soon. This, of course, is much easier said than done, but on Saturday, the fates actually smiled upon us and the girls were able to finally see and play with their dear friends at a birthday party for Minami. And let me tell you, from the sand in the hair to the dirt under the fingernails, it was just like old times. 

This was when we said our official goodbye before moving prior to the summer of 2012.

(And yes, I'd like to go back in time to eat Alexa right up.)

check out this beautiful girl now!

volleyball sand + water from a drinking fountain + toys = hours of non-stop fun

I can't believe this boy is three! (But I can believe that he purposely put 

his nose directly into his own cupcake. 'Cause that's just how he rolls.)

I am so glad they can pick up right where they left off after so many months 

of not seeing each other. (And I'm glad that they were willing to pause

 long enough in their sandy play to actually take a real picture together!)

Sisterly Advice

Savanna, with her very loving and accepting nature, tries to be a friend to everyone. The majority of her friendly feelings are well received and often reciprocated, which is a blessing since she has such a sensitive, tender heart. She does have one friend in particular, though, who is more of a frenemy than a friend, and with whom there are commonly several disputes within the course of a week. This friend, L, has a sharp tongue and is quick to anger, which usually results in Savanna being called names and/or being threatened with withdrawals of friendship. Craig and I have repeatedly urged Savanna to take a step back from this relationship in order to protect her own feelings. Savanna, though, insists that L's feelings would be hurt if she did so, and pretty much refuses to separate herself from her.

Upon hearing of yet another incident in which L said some ugly things to Savanna, I tried once again to talk her into taking some action to protect herself. What I was telling Savanna was clearly not resonating with her, so Julia decided to take matters in her own big sister hands.

"Savanna. This needs to stop. L is not being a good friend. You need to tell her that you will not be her friend anymore; that there are consequences to the way she has been treating you."

Per usual, Savanna resisted. But Julia persevered:

"We are going to do this on Monday after school. You are going to tell L: 'L, I am not going to be your friend anymore. You say mean things to me and there are consequences.' Now we are going to practice saying it. I will be L and you be you."

Savanna proceeded to repeat back Julia's mantra. And Julia made her say it again. And again. And again.

This all transpired last week and, as far as I know, this exchange between Van and L has yet to take place. Savanna incidentally hasn't come home with any more harrowing stories about L, but I think that is more coincidence than anything.

What I really love about this story isn't that Savanna miraculously doesn't have issues with L anymore. Nor is it that Julia managed to give Savanna a flawless piece of advice. No, what I really love about this story is that Julia is, somehow, suddenly mature enough to be a caring big sister who, despite her sometimes inadequate affections towards Savanna, still cares enough about her to try to protect her from the pain of a difficult friendship. I love that Julia is finally feeling a protectiveness towards Savanna that I have never really witnessed before. And, of course, I love the contradictory big sister sentiment that Julia herself can treat Savanna however she likes, but if other people try anything like that, they better just back off.

Because, what else are big sisters for, if not to put the "mentor" in "tormentor"?

Going Down That Road*

*May Contain References to Certain Bodily Functions

It's 10:16 pm and the kiddos are in bed, which means that I made it through the day, even though the day technically hasn't ended yet. For me, (as for the majority of stay-at-home moms, I'm assuming) "making it through the day" simply means that I managed to arrive at the time in which the children are asleep without having had any nervous breakdowns of any sort. (Me, not them.) Some days this is easier said than done, I tell you. Here's a sneak peak into, oh, let's just pick today, to prove my point.

By 12:30 this afternoon, I had:

-Spent over an hour up to my elbows trying to diminish the horrifying effects of some very brightly colored projectile vomit. And I mean projectile, people.  (I will spare you the gory details, but let me just drop some key words: bathtub, laundry, plastic spoons, toothpicks, electric drill, Resolve, and baking soda. Lots and lots of baking soda.)

-Tried (unsuccessfully) to coax a 4-year-old into following through with a haircut (that she said she wanted!) in front of an audience of pleasant retirees at Great Clips

-Run said 4-year-old across the grocery store for an emergency bathroom visit right before I was about to put the very last item that I needed into my cart

-Wiped someone else's bum in a public bathroom with a wiggly 9-month-old perched precariously on my hip. (Don't worry, it was someone I knew.)

-Scraped day-old poo off of the bathroom floor at home

-Realized that the girls had discovered (on a high shelf) and had been playing with a thermometer that was last used for a rectal temp

-Been spit up on. Twice.

And yet, somehow, it was not a terrible day. Heck, I don't even think I'd call it bad.

How on earth did that happen, I ask myself?

Perhaps it's because my hormones happen to be in properly working order today. Perhaps the six hours of sleep from last night was just the magic number I needed for today's tasks. (Just kidding. There is no way it's that.) Perhaps it's because the sympathetic grandma at Safeway told me with a smile that she'd been "down that road" when I mentioned multi-tasking as I wiped a bottom while holding a baby in a public restroom.

Or maybe it's just about love. As in really loving being a stay-at-home mom. Loving what I do, and loving who I do it for, even when puke and poo and any number of unpleasant things is involved. Loving the opportunity to see my kids grow and progress and get bigger and smarter each day. Loving that I am one of the first people they see when school is over. Loving the lunch-packing, and reading, and nursing, and random hugs, and chore charts, and last-minute Valentine's, so that when I am a grandma and I tell a struggling young mom that I have been "down that road," the memory of that road will be infused with such great happiness and satisfaction that there is absolutely no room for regrets.

Right now, my shirt is covered in Ritz crackers, the bottoms of my feet have traces of crumbs on them from the kitchen floor, and the circles under my eyes are growing darker by the minute. (And, on a side note, I still have a pair of Spencer's socks in my pocket that I put there about seven hours ago when I picked the girls up from school.) I need a shower, my back aches, there is play food all over the floor of our family room, and the dishwasher needs to be both emptied and loaded. Lexa's room still reeks, and I just realized that have no idea what to fix for dinner tomorrow without having to go to the store again.

And yet, somehow, I simply wouldn't change anything. Because, even when it's hard, I can still love it.

(This was supposed to be the "before" picture of 

Lexa's haircut today. Note that there is no "after".)

The First of Many...

Spencer the Brave has been looking a little shaggy lately, with hair growing pretty long in the back and hanging over his ears. (I guess when you start having to tuck your little boy's hair back behind his ears, that's a pretty good indication that it's time to get out the clippers.) None of the girls had a haircut of any kind until they were three or four years old, so this is definitely new territory for us. A haircut for a baby at 9 months is entirely unheard of in our household.) Thankfully, Craig cuts his own hair so he didn't balk at the task of getting Spencer trimmed up. Good thing, because this is just one in a loooong line of haircuts that this kiddo is going to need.

Cutie Boy did super well considering that even sitting still long enough for a diaper change is tantamount to torture. He only started fussing at the end because he gagged himself with the toothbrush he'd been chewing on. We kept the length on top, because, let's face it, his little spiky faux-hawk is just about the cutest thing ever.

(Does this look like a crazy amount of hair to anyone else? 

Especially for a kid that still totally has a full head of hair??)

Two. One. Ten.

A few months back, I read something about how the winter Olympics were coming up this year. My subsequent thought pattern went something like this:

Thought #1: Oh, yay, I love the Olympics!

Thought #2: Wow, the last time the Winter Olympics were happening, Alexa was a tiny newborn and I was miserable with mastitis.

Thought #3: No, wait, that can't be right. The Winter Olympics are every four years, and there is no way that Lex is turning...

Thought # FOUR??

That's right, friends. Four years old. The only reason I even believe it is because I happen to have the Olympics as proof.

Remember when she was this charming, tiny, baby girl?

Well, she's somehow turned into a charming, beautiful (albeit demanding and sometimes bossy) four-year-old!

This fourth birthday was super packed. (Read: Get ready for lots of pictures!) First, presents and cake the day before her birthday at Grandma Linda's with Laura and Amy. Then, on Saturday, per our fourth birthday tradition, we took her to Build-a-Bear and then out to lunch with a friend. (She chose Bella, her adorable play-date pal.) Then, later, even more presents...and, more cake.

Some of Friday's birthday highlights:

a PINK birthday cake from Aunt Amy

this girl is all about jewelery...

...and skateboards, apparently. She's multifaceted, what can I say?

lovin' on Laura

Saturday:

ready to take the mall by storm

so many choices, it was almost too hard to decide

final decision: a kitty for Bella (named Snowball) 

and a bear for Lex (named Pinkie Pie Heart)

getting ready to put the bear's heart in

(I know, that sounds a tad bit creepy)

washing off the fuzzies

$4 train ride around the mall; fitting, since she's four, right?

sharing a delicious birthday sundae at Red Robin

"nursing" her new baby on the car ride home

Later at home came more presents:

this look says it all...

...and, well, so does this one.

peering over her new "Frozen" look and find book which she already has memorized

loving the moment

An Elsa doll with a big girl dress-up outfit to match? Score one for Grandma Lorene!

meet the ice princesses; they may look chilly,

but the cold never bothered them anyway.

check out these matching tiaras

her very own peppermint gum. I'm telling you, 

the day could just not have gotten any better

Happy birthday to our youngest, singing-est, twirling-est, sparkliest girl!