Why I Love Family Pictures

 Because no amount of coercing, threatening, or just plain old-fashioned bribery can compel children to open their eyes and smile into the sun for the split second required to shoot a photo...

(Pay special attention to Julia's face in all of these masterpieces for a special treat.)

Fan Turns (Gulp) Twenty!!

Happy Birthday to this cutest, loveliest of human beings. I felt so old when she was born (I mean, I was 15, for gosh sakes!) and so ready to take on the responsibility of being an aunt, with all of the fabulousness and spoiling that that implied. Although I have fallen quite short in the aunt department over the years, Fantasia has yet to disappoint. 

Not only is she a doll to look at, she's also a wonderful human being and a phenomenal daughter, sister, friend, and niece. (Oh, and wifey, too!)

Happy Birthday to the little girl who turned me into a grown-up with her sass, her charm, and her perfect trust in a very imperfect human. I love you so much, my sweet Fan Dan.

That One Time

One time, my Cyndie came to town. To visit moi. She came because she needed a break. And because I needed a break. And because the Universe, who knew that this might not be able to happen again for a very long time, smiled upon us for one awesome week.

Oh, and the most important part? She came without kids.

That's right, you heard me. She may have brought homework, and a book of short stories, and an alarming number of shoes and outfits (just kidding, I wasn't alarmed at all), and a curling iron, and an awesome willingness to run with me every day, but she did not bring her lovely children. And while I love those beautiful kiddos of hers with all my heart, it was perfect. Because it meant that she got a break from being a Mommy. And I got to focus on being a sister. And we got to shop and eat and chat and validate and listen to and love each other to our hearts' content. (And also catch up on two full seasons of Call the Midwife with blessed little interference...until my kids got home from school in that afternoons, that is.)

And so, Cyndie did the girls' hair, and bonded with Spencer, and ate like a vegetarian. But mostly she loved on me and talked with me and filled my cup to overflowing as I contemplated what a blessing it is not only to have her in my life, but to be so loved and cared for by such a wonderful big sister. 

She is amazing. She is dynamic. She is brilliant and talented and awesome in every way. And for 5 whole days, she was all mine.

It was so very wonderful and fulfilling. Which also meant that it was ridiculously hard to say goodbye when it was time to send her on her way.

So...let's do this again in a year, shall we?

The Wonders of One-on-One

Since Alexa started school in August, Spencer and I have been left to our own devices on weekday mornings before he naps. I admit that I feared that without Spencer's beloved older sister and playmate around, we'd be a little bit bored trying to figure out how to pass the time. But there has been no shortage of fun and funny little moments together, and it's truly been wonderful getting some one-on-one time with this handsome little prince.

 Sometimes we...

...eat apples and play at the train table.

Or we...

...build a fort, and then...

 ...sit around taking pictures of each other taking pictures of each other.

Then there are the days when we...

...get an early start on dinner, and

...eat some delicious cinnamon toast for lunch.

And of course, there are the myriad moments in which Spencer lounges around watching multiple episodes of "Chuck the Truck" whilst I clean the house.

I know I don't make the best of every minute, and, in my haste to get things done while the girls are at school, I don't always interact as much as I should with him. But have to say that my favorite times are when I stop whatever "important things" I am doing and sit with this beautiful boy for a few beautiful moments, and concentrate on being nothing more than a mommy to him.

Because the house will always get messy again. But he'll never go back to being little.

Stalling: The Sport of the Future

My children are all such unique individuals, with a varying array of talents, interests, quirks, strengths, and weaknesses. They are very much their own people--so much so, that sometimes I have to wonder who these cute little strangers living in my house are at all. (And why they don't spontaneously clean up after themselves. Or ever stop eating.) I never know who is going to say what, or who is going to eat what, or who is going to come up with an interesting solution to a problem, or get completely caught up for hours in a project/design/playscape of his or her own making.

Their individuality and distinct personalities are what add spice and beauty to my frazzled life, and I love them for it.

But there is one area in which they are all fairly predictable, and that is in the bedtime arena. Or, more specifically, in the Semi-Professional Stalling at Bedtime arena.

Ah, yes...bedtime. That difficult, not-quite-golden span of moments in which exhausted parents use all of their remaining powers of the day to coax, coerce, plead, and threaten their children into staying still and quiet for the next several consecutive hours. That nightmare within an almost-dream when the day's clock has all but run out, and the only thing preventing parents from succumbing to complete despair is the tantalizing idea that soon, very soon, they might rest their weary bones for a minute and have some fleeting but beautiful time to themselves.

It is, in essence, the best and worst time of the day.

My children, (owing to their shared genes, I imagine), all share an excellence in the sport of bedtime stalling. Once either parent indicates that it is time for bed, the stalling tactics begin in earnest for each of them. And yet, they all maintain their own personality and uniqueness in the way that they stall. They've each cornered their own particular market and, in varying intensity and degrees, stall in their own very special, very individual way.

Allow me to illustrate.

First we have Child #1: The Procrastinating Staller



Now, I'm not sure how much thought Julia puts into this beforehand, or if she is genuinely caught off guard each time, but somehow, almost every mention of bedtime to our oldest beautiful child elicits a last-minute cry into the homescape: "But I didn't finish my homework!" Or, "I still have to finish that chapter!" Or, "Daddy didn't help me with that math page yet!"

Lectures on responsibility, accountability, and time-management notwithstanding, many a bedtime has been successfully delayed for Julia because she put something off that needed to be done in the early afternoon, and conveniently forgot about it until the clarion call of bedtime was sounded. Score 1 for the redhead.

Next there's Child #2: The Thoughtful Staller

 Leave it to Savanna to utilize thoughtfulness in her bedtime stalling antics. This girl, after scriptures, stories, hugs, kisses, and "things" (an elaborate exchange of regular kisses, butterfly kisses, nose rubs, forehead smooches, cheek rubs, and finger and elbow fluttering), always manages to find some reason to come out of her room to do something nice for someone. Three to five times every night, I exasperatedly ask Savanna why on earth she isn't in bed yet. (Or why she has gotten out of bed after already being in it.) Her answers vary from, "I'm getting water for Daddy!" to, "I wanted to wipe off the counter for you," to "I'm just bringing Spencer his blankie." Whatever it is, it's for someone else, and it always keeps her out of bed for just a few minutes longer.

Well played, Savanna, well played.

Then there's Child #3: The Tired and Scared Staller

Regardless of what she has just been doing--playing, or watching TV, or running around like a crazy person--the minute the bedtime word is spoken, this girl is suddenly too tired to make any effort at all to actually go to bed.

"Lexa, go get jammies on."

"But I'm tired!"

"Lexa, did you brush your teeth?"

"No! I'm SO tired!"

"Lexa let's go upstairs and get to bed."

"But I CAN'T. I'm just too tired!"

Once we plow through her feigned exhaustion to accomplish all of the requisite tasks (which usually means that one of us is actually putting her pajamas on, brushing her teeth for her, and carrying her upstairs), the scared portion of stalling begins:

"Ever since I was three, I just always have bad dreams!"

"I can't fall asleep because I can't stop thinking of scary things!"

"I'm scared of the dark so I can't go to bed by myself!"

Getting through this portion of the stalling involves prayers for good dreams and bedside cuddling, in addition to making sure the night-light is in place, her bedroom door is cracked open, and the hall light is on. Then I slowly sneak away waiting for her to call me back because a) we forgot to do kisses through the window of her bunk bed, or b) there is no ice in her water.

And, lo and behold, it's taken 15 to 20 minutes to put this kid to bed. 

Of course, bringing up the rear, is Child #4: The Artful Dodger & Angry Staller

Say the words "night-night time" to Spencer, and he is off like a rocket. We chase him so that we can put his pajamas on. We chase him so that we can brush his teeth. And then, if we leave his room for one second to say, throw a diaper in the bathroom trash, we chase him down the hallway to which he has invariably escaped, and carry him screaming back to the confines of his room. (This is where the angry part kicks in.) Once he realizes he can no longer escape, he gets mad. Mad about the pajama shirt that he is wearing. Mad that Daddy instead of Mommy (or Mommy instead of Daddy) is putting him to bed. Mad that he doesn't get to read one more book. Mad that he can't find a certain truck to sleep with. Mad that you kissed him, and hugged him, and walked out of the room and left him in it.

Props to you, little man, for paying attention and learning some tricks from your big sisters. (And thank goodness you wake up happy, 'cause you sure go to bed angry.)

We have, in some form or another, been putting kid/kids to bed for ten and a half years. You would think we'd be better at this. You would think that our system by now would be so flawless that each and every bedtime would go off without so much as a peep of dissent from these little loves. You would think that we would have it down by now. But you would be wrong.

Because in the end, the reality is that:

Four kids, with

Four incredibly distinct personalities. and

Four ingenious strategies to delay the inevitable, 

(Night. After night. After night)

Just adds up to 

Two very tired parents

who go to bed 

with smiles on their faces 

because they have survived

to put their kids to bed 

yet another day.