Guh

Last night was the preschool Christmas show for the two littlest girls. BabyGirl sang her heart out and rang her bells with gusto. Peanut recited her lines for "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" pretty well for a kid who refused to practice.

Then we got to the car and it was dead. So there was a scramble to stay warm and call Triple A while Husband tried to fix it and Grampy came to ferry kids home.

And I guess, in all that shuffle and scramble, perhaps their performances got lost a little, because this morning Peanut asked me this:

"Mommy, you know my show? My show with my friends? Was it....was it...was it...proud making?"

I told her it was the best show I'd ever seen. Very proud making.

Sometimes, even when they don't mean to, your kids can break your heart.

Blame

So today I found two acts of vandalism in my home.

There was drawing on a step stool and the interior of a book shelf had a tic tac toe game and some scribbling on it.

Underneath both were the words "Peanuts falt."

I'm not sure exactly how dense StinkyMan thinks we are.

But I still laughed.

Flowders

I just have to write it down, so that I never, ever, ever forget, that BabyGirl cannot say "flower" but calls them "flowders" instead.

It's just the cutest thing in the world and I want to hang on to it forever as her babydom washes away and is being replaced by little girl.

Not enough bling

Peanut was a little bit disappointed in her visit to the dentist today.

She has no cavities, got some yummy mouthwash and toothpaste, a cool tooth holder for lost teeth, a new tooth brush and some floss.

That was all well and good. Except for one thing:

"Mommy! How come I didn't get any bracelets on my teeth?!"

I guess she's been listening to her big sister worry about getting braces and simply can't understand why anyone wouldn't want some shiny bracelets.

Four is such a fun age.

Gold

This morning I caught Peanut with a sheen on her lips that can only come from one place.

"Peanut," I said sternly, "have you been in my lipstick?"

"No," she said, but she looked guilty. Plus there was a gold over gloss on her lips.

"I think you have." I responded.

"No, I haven't."

"You have very shiny lips. It looks like lipstick."

"NO! That's just from licking my lips!"

"I don't think so. It's lipstick. I can tell."

"NO! IT'S NOT! IT'S FROM LICKING MY LIPS!" Hysteria is winning, because she knows she is sunk.

"Well, unless your spit is gold, you are lying to me and that is lipstick."

"NO!" She crosses her arms defiantly and scowls. "My spit IS gold, Mama. You're wrong."

After I stopped laughing I put her in the corner.

Compound Words

StinkyMan is learning about compound words at school. He finds them fascinating and for days as been randomly asking me if certain words are compound words or just two separate words.

So at the dinner table he wanted to go around the table and everyone had to say a compound word. "Except BabyGirl" he said "because she is too little."

So he started: Gumball

Mommy: Cupcake

Curly: lunchbox

Peanut: peanut butter (she doesn't quite get it)

Husband: driveway

And then the order got lost and it was just a flurry of shouted out compound (and not so compound) words:

Schoolhouse!

Butterball!

iPhone!

butterfly!

ladybug!

chocolate milk!

rattlesnake!

earthquake!

grasshopper!

seashell!

babysit!

hamburger!

candy corn!

forklift!

Then there was a lull as we all stopped to think a bit.

And the tiniest little voice, from the tiniest little family member at the table, all of three years old, said oh-so-softly "Basketball."

Yeah. She might be smart.

It could have been a coincidence.

But we're going to go with genius instead.

Mr. P to the Rescue

Not so long ago I mentioned that my kids are gung ho to try chopsticks, but end up admitting defeat every time.

Well, a long time friend of my dad's , Mr. Palmer (and yes, I know I can call you Jim now and no, that is never going to happen) happens to know the secret to rigging up some kid friendly chopsticks and was kind enough to send us some.

The kids LOVE them and have used them twice now very successfully and with great glee.

Thanks Mr. P!

Easy Dinner

Today was a lazy Saturday. I slept in, did the bare minimum in housework, played with the kids and before I knew it, it was dinner time.

Husband had locked himself upstairs in our room to watch baseball (Go Rangers!) so dinner was just for the kids and myself. And I wasn't hungry.

Fact #1- I'm not cooking a full on meal for four short people who probably won't like or appreciate most if it anyway.

Fact #2- It was late and I'd totally lapsed in the dinner prep department.

Fact #3- I'll do anything to avoid cooking.

So I went with a standby that my kids adore. I heated up some soup, then threw this in the middle of the table:

Then I just let them pick at it like a buffet of finger foods. They think it's super cool and it adds up to almost no cooking (except the soup) and very few dishes. Super easy, super healthy, super fun. Everybody wins!

It's a boy!

My friend Heather is going to have a baby boy after having 3 girls. I needed a good way to tell her she is in for an entirely different ride than with her daughters. I stood at my computer, chatting with her online, trying to think of what to say.

Just then, like a messenger of boyhood, StinkyMan arrived at my side and said "Hey Mommy! Look at this! I can lick my armpit!" He then proceeded to do exactly that.

Congratulations, Heather. This is what you have to look forward to.

Life expectancy

Peanut: Mommy, when I marry Ryan will you buy me a wedding dress?

Mommy: Sure, Baby. I'll buy you a wedding dress.

Peanut: Oh thank you, Mommy. Try not to be dead then, okay?

Mommy: Uh, I'll work on it.

Huh?

BabyGirl: I want toilet paper and pretzels.

Make of that combination what you will. It took me a bit.

She meant "I want drawing paper and a pencil."

They are just so cute when they are still learning all the right words.

Date Day

Yesterday I took the two big kids on our annual "Summer is almost over and we will be done driving each other crazy" dates.

Up first was Curly. We indulged in some pampering, her yearly choice. We both got orange sherbet colored toes and she got a fancy flower and her nails painted too. When we were finished, she got a milkshake, I got a Diet Coke. It was great and we had a very nice time.

After I dropped Curly at her friend's house it was StinkyMan's turn (and yay for Grammy who babysat the littlest ones for me.) He, of course, opted to go to Chuck E Cheese, where he proceeded to blow through eighty coins in about an hour. He spent most of his time on one game in particular and got quite good, managing to earn well over two hundred tickets.

When we were finished, I needed to run an errand. He was less than thrilled and I felt guilty. After all, Mommy/Son date time was not supposed to be about me.

As we drove to the craft store StinkyMan spotted the mall. "Mommy?" he said in that super cute, 6 year old boy voice that melts my heart, "Can we ride the escalators at the mall?"

I debated. I really didn't want to go to the mall. But really, what a sweet, simple request. As moms, we say no to so much. Why say no to this?

"You want to go now to ride the escalators at the mall as part of your Mommy/Stinkyman time?"

"Yeah. I like riding them."

"Okay, sure. Yes. We can do that!"

He was so excited I felt bad for ever even considering saying no. So we ran the errand and headed to the mall.

Up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down. Five trips total, or ten "rides" as StinkyMan called it. We laughed, we raced, we even tried to go down the up escalator.

A few older ladies were watching us, as well as one grandpa-ish looking gentleman. We got several smiles of approval. One lady asked if we were done shopping and so I told her why we were there. She thought that was just about the sweetest thing she'd ever heard.

When we were finished, StinkyMan held my hand as we skipped back to the car. He was so happy and I was, too, because I felt like a good mommy.

But mostly I was happy because I said yes. Sometimes I think I should say yes more often. No is sometimes easier, but yes? Yes can definitely be better.

Chopsticks

The other night Husband was out of town as usual and the children and I decided to indulge in some Chinese takeout for dinner.

The kids are all into trying to use chopsticks with little to no success. It's messy and unproductive and they usually give up quickly and switch to forks.

But this time Curly was determined to give it a real go. After about twenty minutes of trying her very best and getting very little rice into her mouth she said "I don't know how Chinese people get anything done if it takes this long to eat every time. I'd be sitting at the table all day long!"

Practice makes perfect...but in our house Chinese food takes forks.

Summer training

A mom down the street and I have had a Facebook back to school countdown going all summer. At least once a week one or the other of us has posted a status update that has to to with how many days are left until school begins again.

Yesterday, Curly wanted to have other mom's daughter N come over and play. With six kids in the house and me still recovering from a semi unsuccessful weekend at the lake, I was not in the mood for any extra demands on me.

"Fine." I said "She can come over. BUT no sitting there with the TV on, no begging me for food or art projects, I don't want anything that causes me extra work. At all."

She nodded somberly. "OK" and ran off to fetch N from her house.

A few minutes later I received this hilarious Facebook message from N's mom:

Curly and N are getting ready to leave my house and Curly tells N "One thing. We can't ask my mom for anything. Nothing. She said we can't." And N goes "That's OK. My mom said I have to leave her alone. I'm not aloud to talk to her for a while."

I laughed. So glad to know I'm not the only one.

It only took us all summer to train them so well.

Preschooler

Tonight I put my baby in bed for the last time.

You see, tomorrow, she won't be a baby anymore.

She will be a preschooler.

I know, I know. At nearly three years old, she really hasn't been a baby for a while.

But she's MY baby.

And this mama is struggling a little bit.

She's the last one.

We're done with diapers. We're done with endless free days. Baby talk is over.

We're in the big time now.

Preschool.

I told myself it was no big deal. I was sure I would not cry. The last one in school is cause for celebration, right?

But when I tucked her in tonight, amongst her dollies and her Buzzy Bee Pillow Pet, I was already a little teary.

And I kissed a baby goodnight for the last time.

Because tomorrow she wakes up a preschooler.

And this mama isn't ready.

Singing in the Rain, er Sprinklers

Yesterday when the backyard sprinklers came on the two littlest girls came running.

"Mommy! Can we play in the sprinklers?!" shouted Peanut while BabyGirl just bounced up and down next to her.

"Sure. That's fine." I said and they ran off, presumably to get their swim suits.

So you can imagine my surprise when they turned up a few moments later in their slickers and rain boots, ready to get wet.

Super, super cute.

Blessed

After a big sneeze from BabyGirl, Peanut announced. "Ugh. She just blessed all over me!"

I guess that's one way to look at it.

Tragic

Just so you are aware, there is nothing more tragic, more cry worthy, than the following things:

Your sister getting the pink bowl.

Your brother sitting in "your" spot: the one you didn't want until he sat in it.

Not getting the right spoon.

Having to watch the wrong Wow Wow Wubbzy on TV.

Not getting to go anywhere in a day.

Having to swim in your backyard pool with your family.

Having to take turns.

Not having cookies in the house.

Having the wrong cookies in the house.

Getting stuck with the orange popsicle.

Being made to play outside on the giant play structure in your yard.

Not getting to be the Super Mario character you want when you play pretend with your siblings.

Not getting the avatar you want on Just Dance.

Getting the avatar you want on Just Dance, but not getting it in the color you wanted.

Not getting to be Player 1 on Just Dance.

Not getting to choose the song you want on Just Dance.

Having to clean pretty much anything, anytime, anywhere, ever.

Having to take a shower (no, the pool alone doesn't count as a giant bathtub)

Having to comb your hair.

Having to look for your shoes.

Having to go brush your teeth.

Having to go to bed.

They are putting out the school supplies at Target already. I know I'm not the only mom who stared wistfully at the new backpacks and began to count the days. In fact, all the moms I caught in that aisle had the same look of quiet desperation mixed with longing hopefulness: the look that comes with excessive exposure to bickering, crying and general summer-itis.

Is it the end of August yet?

Sweet

Having seen far too many snippets of her big sister's Disney programming, Peanut posited this question:

"Mommy, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Uhhhhh, I don't know. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about that I love you!"

Awwwww.

"Well I'm thinking that I love you too, so we were thinking the same thing!"

"YAY!"

Puppy Cupcakes

And no, by puppy cupcakes I do not mean cupcakes made out of puppies, as StinkyMan suggested, clearly delighted by his own joke. Nor are they cupcakes for puppies. In fact they would make your puppy quite sick.

No, these cuties were for a puppy themed birthday party. I saw a picture and thought "I can do that!" and started planning. Here is the end result:

Sweet, right?

Want the step by step?

OK, well, step 1: Make your cupcakes and your icing. Mine are chocolate, with butter cream frosting.

Step 2. After they've cooled, cut a hole out of your cupcake and put a donut hole in it (I had to shave some of the sides of the donut hole off)

Frost away! (I used Wilton tip 18)

I was going to make fondant for tongues and ears, though in the picture I saw I thought the ears looked more like fruit roll up. My ever so clever friend Sandy over at Modern Simplicity suggested rolled out caramels and that the tongue could be made out of rolled out pink Starburst candies. Both solutions sounded much easier than making a batch of fondant. Thanks Sandy!

I discovered after about 6 cupcakes worth of tongues and ears, it's MUCH easier if you cut the Starbursts and caramels in half before you roll them out. That makes them much easier to shape and more to scale for the cupcake.

I used mini M&M's for the eyes. I did put extra frosting under the ears to help them stick.

And finally, a jelly bean nose on top of the frosted donut hole:

Almost too cute to eat! Happy Birthday Amelia!

Misspoken

It really couldn't be cuter that BabyGirl thinks bananas are called "Go-nanas" and that the panties she likes to pretend she knows how to wear are called "champies."

Champies could be cuter if she stopped showing them to everyone, everywhere, all the time, though.

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to:

My Dad, for being a great dad, who reads my blog faithfully, finds my kids as amusing as I do and who always comes through in a pickle. Actually, he even comes through when there is not a pickle. Thanks Dad!

My Husband, the best man I know. You are a fantastic dad. You always knew I wanted to be a mother and I knew you'd be a great father. I was wrong. I couldn't even have begun to imagine the kind of wonderful father you are. Thank you.

My Father- in-law, who has always treated me less like a daughter-in-law and more like a daughter. Who is also always willing to pitch in to help and has done so quite often. I am lucky in the in-law department, I know.

My friend Lance, who does it all and then some, many days with a heavy heart. Rochelle is most proud of you, my friend, as am I. We all are.

To all the boys I've watched become men, both friends and family, who then went from just men to husbands and fathers. You all impress me. Every last one of you. Your evolution from the kids I knew to the men you are has been amazing.

Happy Fathers Day to Everyone. May you be loved this day and every day. And if you are a father of someone in my life, please know that you are loved, this day and every day.

Lucky

Peanut: Mommy?

Mommy: Hmmmmm?

Peanut: I'm super lucky, huh?

Mommy: You are? Why?

Peanut: Because lots of people love me.

Mommy: Yes, you are very lucky that way.

Peanut: You are lucky too, because lots of people love you too!

Mommy: Thank you, Baby.

Peanut: They just love me a little bit more because I'm just a little bit cuter than you.

You know, it's really hard to argue with her. She is really, really cute.

And apparently she knows it!

Not cool

When I was younger my father used to torture my sister and I by making us listen to The Everly Brothers in the car. To this day I have an unreasonable hatred of the song "Wake Up Little Susie."

However, I am no better, I suspect (though my choice of music is. Sorry Dad!)

It was just my Curly and I on a 90 minute drive a few weeks ago and in flipping radio stations as we lost the pre-programmed ones, I found some songs here and there that are simply, well, awesome. She was unimpressed with "One" by U2, "Dreams" by the Cranberries and Coolio's "1,2,3,4"

Then, one of the best dance songs ever came on.

"OOOOHHHH!" I said, turning it up. "Curly Girly, this song is awesome!"

After all, who could NOT love Will Smith's "Gettin' Jiggy Wit' It", right?

My child, as it turns out.

"Who is this?" she asked. "And what does jiggy mean?"

"Just go with it." I said, dancing along in the driver's seat.

She did not dance along in the back.

In an effort to gain her interest I decided to try to get her to relate to the song.

"Well, you know who Willow Smith is, right?"

"Oh, yeah! 'Whip My Hair'" she says excitedly.

"Right! Well this is her DAD!"

Deafening silence from the backseat.

And with that single sentence, I lost every chance I had of her ever thinking any of my music is cool, ever. Because I am old and so is Willow Smith's dad. Because dads are no cooler than moms, even famous dads of famous kids.

At least my music was good, unlike The Everly Brothers.

Optional labor

"Hey, I'm going to need you guys to do the dishwasher here in a minute."

StinkyMan: Uh, no thanks, Mommy.

Well, at least he was polite.

And he just learned that sometimes even being polite doesn't work.

Joy

"Mommy?" says the voice of my 4 year old from the backseat.

"Yes, my Peanut?"

"I'm happy today!"

It's said with such glee, such true joy, that it just filled my heart. There were no qualifiers. She hadn't gotten any candy or gone anywhere special. She was just especially happy and wanted to share.

Those moments, those tiny, seemingly insignificant events, are so much of what makes this Mommy gig so freakin' worthwhile.

"I'm glad, Baby. I'm happy too."

And I was.

Peace Out, Baby!

Curly's BFF had a birthday last week and I had the honor of making her party cupcakes. I also had the misfortune of a giant migraine that day, so they didn't come out quite the way I wanted. In the end, the birthday girl loved them and so did her mom and that's all that matters.

I was going for a peace/tie dye/ flower power for an 8 year old feel. I didn't quite get there. Next time. They did taste good though. I know because I ALWAYS make enough so I can sample.

Next cake project is end of the school year gifts. I have an idea...we'll see how it come out.

Just Do It

Because Potty Training is NOT a spectator sport.

I've tried to let it be. It worked with Peanut. Without any real effort on my part, she learned to use the toilet. One day she announced she was going to go use the restroom. She peed in the toilet and that was pretty much it. She was done with diapers and barely needed pull-ups. It took no time at all and was no work for me whatsoever.

BabyGirl? Yeah, no, she's not going to make it easy.

Mommy: Let's go potty!

BabyGirl: No. No go potty.

She's not even being sassy. She's just stating a fact. Nope, I'm not going potty. She's really quite sweet about it.

I guess it's time to get serious, but really, I don't wanna. I've potty trained MORE than my fair share of kids between teaching 2 year olds for years, being a nanny, a mom and a babysitter. I just want a magic wand.

Except then maybe she's not a baby anymore. That's no good either.

And therein lies the problem, of course. I don't want to change her diapers anymore, but I also don't want her to be big. And potty trained equals big.

Of course, potty trained also equals preschool. I love preschool.

Hmmmmmm.

I guess I'll do it, but you can't make me like it.

Well, OK, I'll like the results but you can't make me love it.

And least she's still MY baby, even if she's not A baby, right?

Oh

You know you are a stay home mom who rarely leaves the house or the car when you are folding laundry and realize you have more "bum around the house" clothes than "be seen in public" clothes.

This is not how I intended to be. I was going to be that cute stay at home mom, the one who was thin and darling with cute clothes and cute hair to match the cute kids.

Huh.

Well, I got the cute kid part right. Better get on with the rest of it.

I'm not a total slouch. I don't wear pajama pants all day, every day. I shower and get dressed. I do wear jeans more or less daily. I have a friend who gave up jeans for Lent. I would never survive that. I have OK tops, nothing special. The nicer ones I do save for when I go out. Bit by bit I'm getting a little thinner.

But I'd say at least half the time the hair gets pulled back and the make-up never goes on and there is a general sense of not quite having had the time to take care of me.

That has to end. For me. I'm sure Husband would appreciate the effort too, though he's not one to complain. Mommy mode is too easy. And it comes with built in excuses, but really there is no excuse for not being as good on the outside as I feel on the inside.

On the inside, I am a confident mom. I'm good at it. I watch twin babies 4 days a week and you know what? I'm good at that too. I've grown leaps and bounds in the kitchen. I think I'm a pretty good wife. I try to be a good daughter and I think I'm a good friend. OK, my housekeeping sucks, but we can't all be perfect. I am happy with who I am inside.

I need to match the outside with the inside.

Time to get started. First up, closet weeding. Out with the old, and time to find some new.

We'll see how it goes.

Doctor, Doctor

To Peanut's great delight we have a stethoscope that actually works. She discovered this with glee yesterday, running around listening the chest of every person in the house. After she listened to mine, she delivered some bad news.

"Your heart is very broken." She was quite solemn. "It's in bad shape."

"Oh dear." I was shocked. "Very bad shape?"

"Yes. It's doesn't look like a heart anymore. It's a circle now."

"What are we going to do?"

"I will call the hospital on my phone. They will come and fix it." Apparently on the other end of Tinkerbell phones are magical, mobile hospitals. "Yes, hello. This lady has a circle heart. Come fix it please."

"Look here is the hospital!" I announced when a completely unaware-of-the-game BabyGirl came into the room.

"Fix her, Hospital! Her heart is broken!"

BabyGirl wandered off, I guess in search of a less round heart, perhaps.

"I will do it!" declared Dr. Peanut, waving around a plastic shot. "I have the shotter. I will give you 2 shots and your heart will not be broken anymore!"

Amazingly one shot in each arm seemed to do the trick. "I can feel my heart getting fixed!" I affirmed.

Putting the stethoscope back to my chest she nodded. "Yes, it's a heart again. You are all better."

Wonder what the bill is for doctor who makes house calls in a Princess gown and fancy shoes with a Tinker Bell phone?

Smarter

Every day StinkyMan and I joke about how he's allowed to go to school, but he is NOT allowed to learn anything. Every day he tells me that he will learn something and I make a big fake fuss about how that is totally unacceptable.

When he comes home and tells me about his day, I always ask him if he learned anything. When he says he did, I throw up my hands in mock frustration and say "WHAT?! You'd better quit that learning business. Pretty soon you'll be smarter than Daddy and me and we can't have that!" He laughs every time and goes on his merry way to whatever he's going to do to relax.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday I said "Hey! What have I told you about that learning stuff? You'd better stop. I can't have you getting smarter than me!"

He paused, looked at me somberly and said, not unkindly, "Mommy, I think I might already be smarter than you." Then he went to play the Wii.

Apparently, not only am I not smarter than a 5th grader, I'm not even as smart as my kindergartner!

Hop Hop

The reason there is a two year old screaming "HOP! HOP!" at the top of her lungs in front of my refrigerator is because I won't let her have her chocolate Easter bunny. Apparently that is so mean, so traumatic that she has forgotten the word "bunny" and has been reduced to a puddle of tears and incoherent wailing and lots of "HOP! HOP! HOOOOOOOOOOP!"

Last minute basket goody

Last year I made these and posted them. I got a lot of positive feedback on them and many people said they wanted to try to make them this year. So I was going to post them earlier as a reminder.

Yeah. I forgot. Oops. It's still doable, especially if you have most of the supplies at home or live near a store that has everything you need, like Walmart. They were a big hit last year and it's nice to throw something in their baskets that's not total junk.

Happy Easter everyone!

Okay, Then.

"Sometimes I wish I was a toilet."

And sometimes, Mommy just doesn't want to know.

BabyGirl Says

She is just at that age where she says the cutest things. Soon, too soon for me, she will have a much better command of the English Language, but I want to remember her baby speak forever.

Bacon is called "blankets." As in "Hava blankets, peese?"

When I give her a cup of milk or change her diaper she says "Thank you milk!" or "Thank you diaper!"

She loves to dance to Just Dance on the Wii. Her favorite avatar? The flowers....which she calls "salad."

Every time she leaves the room or goes outside she says "Bye! Happy Day! I luf you!" And every time, it melts my heart.

Yogurt is called Whoa-gurt, even though she is perfectly capable of saying her Y sounds.

When she wants us to really pay attention she says " Wookit da baby" which means "Look at the baby."

Tangerines or "rines" are her favorite thing to eat and she devours several a day.

When she says "goodnight" to her sisters she says "Night Night, Peanut" or "Night Night, Curly" but when she says goodnight to her brother she often says "Night Night, My StinkyMan" which is another heart melter.

"Go brush your teeth" has become one word: Gabeesh. As in "Time to put on your pajamas and gabeesh." She loves to gabeesh and makes a mighty fine mess trying to get the paste on the brush if she is left unsupervised.

Going to bed means it's "Time to find Buzzy." Buzzy is her bumblebee Pillow Pet and she squeals in delight as if she is really surprised to find him in her bed every single time.

I just don't want to forget her littleness.

Love

Peanut: Mommy, I love you all the time.

Mommy: I love you all the time, too.

Peanut: I love you 6 pounds Mommy!

Mommy: Is that a lot?

Peanut: It's as much as my pounds.

Mommy: Pretty close! I love you 6 pounds too.

Peanut: Is that as much pounds as you?

Mommy: Uh, no.

Crisis

So everyone knows what a midlife crisis is. And now I guess there is something called a quarter life crisis, where 25 year olds everywhere are freaking out. Now if you ask me that just means that they've figured out they are grownups now and it's time to act like it, but that's just me.

So what is the crisis called when a 4 year old doesn't want to get old? It's Peanut's newest worry. She seems to think that once you have babies, you get old.

"Mommy, why are you old?"

"I'm old?"

"Yes, because you had babies and got old."

"Is Daddy old?"

"No, just you."

Gee, thanks kid.

But her conundrum lies in the fact that she wants to have babies one day, but then she will be old, which she doesn't want. Tuesday she sat on the couch moaning and groaning about not wanting to get old for 20 full minutes before I was able to distract her.

Her solution? She's just going to be Sleeping Beauty when she grows up. That sounds like a great plan to her. And her little friends from school are going to be Ariel, Cinderella and Belle and they are all going to live together at DisneyLand.

100 years of sleep? Sounds like a good gig to me. Plus, apparently, she'll never get old that way.

Unlike me.

StinkyMan is 6!

All my kids have birthdays every year (duh!) but really only two bother me. One is BabyGirl because with each year that passes my baby becomes less and less of a baby. The other is StinkyMan, who turned 6 at 12:44 this morning.

I don't know why it is that it bothers me. Perhaps because he is my only boy. Perhaps it is because I am afraid that we are too rapidly heading towards that time when he will want to snuggle with his Mommy less, be more conservative with his hugs and show less love just because he feels it in his heart. A time when sausage for breakfast doesn't warrant a shriek of glee, an extra story at night is the greatest treat ever and Mommy isn't the best singer in the whole world. A time when he knows better than I do, I'm too lame to pick out his clothes and chocolate milk doesn't fix everything.

No, I don't want my baby boy to grow up. I had to swallow a lump in my throat last night when I tucked him in a 5 year old, knowing he would awaken a 6 year old.

Thank goodness I have 364 days until I have to face it again.

Angry Faces

Peanut and her beloved Grammy took a little trip to the gardening section of Home Depot together. While Grammy studied flower pots, Peanut studied the pansies.

"Why," she asked, with all the innocence of the 4 year old that she is "do they all have angry faces?"

It took Grammy a minute to see it. Do you see it? Look again.

Awwwwwwwww.

Cupcake success!

My niece is getting married and I had the honor, along with her other aunties, of throwing her shower this weekend. We made a yummy chicken salad, had fruit and bread and the dessert, well, that was up to me:

I was so happy with the way my flowerpot cupcakes came out. I had done a test run and had been less than thrilled with the end result. But by using multiple colors and fewer leaves (and pushing the leaves quite far down into the pot) the effect came out great! Several guests told me at first glance they thought there were flowers on the table. Better yet, people thought they tasted really good. Best of all, my niece loved them too.

Next time I want to try to make edible leaves. We shall see how that goes! I love my relatively new hobby and hope to keep learning new skills and trying new things!

Night Night

Overheard-

Stinkyman: Night, night, sleep tight don't let the bed bugs bite, BabyGirl.

BabyGirl: Night Night My StinkyMan. I love you!

StinkyMan: I love you too. Get good sleeps. See you in the morning.

Awwwwwwwww.

Anniversary

Yesterday was our 11th wedding anniversary. It's been 11 very busy and wonderful years with a guy I love more today than when I married him. The best part? He feels the same about me. I'm a lucky, lucky girl.

Peanut...

...got her name because she was tiny. So tiny, in fact, that she fell off the growth charts. She wasn't all that delayed in her development, but was certainly taking her sweet time hitting those milestones we mothers wait for.

At one point our beloved pediatrician sent us to a specialist. "I don't think anything is wrong," he said "But I would hate to be wrong about that. So go see the specialist, just to make sure." Peanut being my third, my very strong Mother's Intuition said that she was fine. I was right. She was just, well, a peanut.

That was when she was still just a baby. Today, that baby turned four. She still weighs nothing, but that tiny girl is the tallest in her class. When we watched the school Christmas program, her dad and I were floored to see that not only is she the tallest in her class, she is one of the tallest kids in the whole school. Amazing how things change in what seems like the blink of an eye.

Of course I can't change her bloggy name now. That would be weird. If I could, it would be Sunshine, because she is just a happy, sweet, sunshiney girl, ever ready with a smile and a hug.

Happy Birthday to my not so tiny Peanut. I hope 4 is everything you dream it will be.

English Lesson

Peanut: Mommy how much longer 'til we get to school? Two hours?

Mommy: Noooo. Maybe two minutes.

Peanut: That's what I said. Two.

Mommy: You said two hours. I said two minutes.

Peanut: Yes! Two! Like "TOOT" except it's not, because two is not stinky like a toot.

Mommy: That's lovely.

The Key to Longevity

StinkyMan says:

"I am going to live 'til one hundred years old because when I am a grandpa I am going to eat all healthy food all the time."

Hear that, Grandpas? Better get on it!

Happy Day

When my kids leave for school I say "Bye! I love you! Have a great day!"

For a few days, BabyGirl would mimic me and say "Lub you, Hab a day!"

Then she seemed to forget about it for a while, until last week when she busted out with this:

"Bye! I luf you. Hab a happy day!"

My heart just MELTS when she says it. Every.Single.Time. It's so darn cute. I just want to box it up and keep it forever and ever so that when I'm old and grey(er) I can take it out and listen to my sweet little baby say "Hab a happy day!"

There's something to having a happy day, ya know? A nice day is good, but a happy day? That's gold! And just hearing her say that makes my day happy.

Cupcakes for Girls Night In

My neighborhood Bunco group is the best EVER. I am so fortunate to live in a neighborhood with such fun, supportive, helpful women who have truly become friends. We always have such a good time when we get together and I know I am lucky to have found them through a flier on a mailbox advertising a Friday Bunco group!

We had a post-Christmas gift exchange. It's hard to know what to buy that anyone would be happy to get. So my contribution was a "gift card" for 2 dozen custom cupcakes, which my friend M won.

She decided she wanted to redeem that for cupcakes for her other Bunco group, which she affectionately dubs "Drunko Bunco" and asked for a fun theme of some kind, totally up to me.

This is what I came up with:

Those are yellow cake with pink buttercream frosting and lime Jello shots on top in miniature martini glasses. I wanted pink ribbon, but forgot to pick some up, so green it was. It was the first time in all my 37 years I had ever made Jello shots. I guess there is a first time for everything!

I hear they were a success. M said they tasted great (both the shots and the cake!) and looked fantastic and that her guests thought they were awesome.

It was fun for me to branch out and do something different. The kid stuff is great, but it's fun to flex my creative cake muscles to extend to grown-up fare as well. I hope I get to do something like that again.

Technology

How cute is it that BabyGirl calls my iphone "The Robot?" With all it's capabilities (and I don't even have the latest and greatest one) she's not too far off.

Awwwwwww

The other day the kids were driving me a little bit crazy. Every other word was "Mommy!" or "Mom!" and they were very demanding, seemed to have forgotten their manners and wanted to hang on me non stop. This mama was DONE and ready for bedtime...their bedtime, that is.

Then StinkyMan gave me this and I remembered just how sweet my children can be:

That is a picture of him and Peanut, playing outside at the park. See how they are holding hands? My heart melted, I took a deep breath and we settled in for a nice relaxed bedtime routine.

Sometimes, when they are driving me crazy, I need to remember it's me as much as it's them and that they ARE great kids and it's all just temporary.

Arts and Crafts Birthday Party

We had Curly's 8th birthday party here on Saturday. I'm blogging about it now, on Tuesday, because, quite frankly, I'm still recovering. Invited were fifteen 7 and 8 year olds. At the last minute, 4 backed out, leaving us with the perfect amount of eleven.

Now let me be perfectly honest: I LOVE planning parties. I love dreaming up theme ideas, and then once we've chosen one I love thinking up cute invitations. I love coming up with party activities and of course I love dreaming up and making the cake.

All that thinking and planning and creating comes with one distinct disadvantage: by the time the party rolls around, I'm a little bit over it.

Nonetheless, I do want to toot my own horn, so first up is the invitations:

I was so pleased with the way these turned out. They were a fair amount of effort but once I was finished I was so glad I did them. (Thanks for helping me with the blurring, Sharon!) I had to:

Pop all the paint colors out. This was easy as the sets were cheapies from the Dollar Tree.

Then I cut out each of the ovals. This was the MOST time consuming part. About 3/4 of the way through I realized it was much quicker if I made a slit with the Xacto knife and then cut with scissors. If you are going to do this, go that route. Trust me.

I had printed the wording on colored paper that mimicked the original paint tray and cut them down to size to fit in the back of the plastic tray, lining the wording up with the middle of the oval. I didn't do anything fancy to stick them down. Scotch Tape was my friend.

I made a little paint splatter page for the back of the "Come Join Us" tag.

Then I put the whole thing together.

And sent them off to school with a very excited Curly.

Side note: People have gotten really, really bad about RSVPing, it seems. However, rather than having the parents call me, I gave my email address and every single parent sent me a message. I wonder if it has to do with how quick and easy it is to dash off an email rather than make a phone call.

And so every girl was coming. What to do AT the party?

Well we settled on painting pictures, making cootie catchers, coloring placemats (thank you Target Dollar Spot)and making aprons. Then the aprons were shipped too late to make it to the party (thanks for nothing, Amazon) and the aprons became T-shirts instead.


And of course, there was the cake. I made the fondant and the big cake on Friday night (one o'clock in the morning is just so late. Blah!) Then I tasked Husband with the job of cutting the cake into a artist's palette shape. Here he is, trying to pretend it's not crumbling like crazy so his wife doesn't crumble like crazy:

I knew I'd like it better if he cut the shape than if I cut the shape. Plus I preferred to have someone else to blame if it looked less like a palette and more like Pac Man. But he did well. (And now you've seen a picture of Husband. Isn't he handsome?)

Then I covered it with the fondant:

That was before I managed to smooth it a little bit better. It was just barely enough fondant and I had to try to lay it on there 3 times before I was successful.

Then I colored some buttercream frosting and spooned it on there to look like paint, utilizing some paint brushes to somewhat mask a couple of fondant imperfections. And Voila! A cake fit for Da Vinci:


We just used plates and napkins in different colors from the Dollar Tree to represent the colors from the invitations and the cake and it all pulled together really nicely. Our favors were these darling wooden frames with 3 little containers of paint each, also from the Target Dollar Spot.

So let's breakdown what this all cost:

$15 in invitations (Just the paint. I had the rest.)
$11 in placemats (I returned the unused ones)
$2 in scrapbook paper for Cootie catchers (Target Dollar Spot)
$12 in T-shirts
$5 in brushes
$10 in fabric paint
$6 in cake supplies
$6 in plates, cups, etc.
$15 in favors

For a grand total of $82 spent.

Not too shabby. Who says you can't do a party on a budget? I think the girls had a good time and Curly declared it a success, which is, after all, the point of all that work.

Next up: Peanut's birthday at the end of this month and StinkyMan's at the end of March. I'm already dreaming themes and schemes.

Eight Years Ago

Eight years ago I was holding the most amazing, beautiful, wonderful baby girl in my arms. She was perfection in a baby blanket. It feels like I blinked once and she is now perfection in peace sign jeans and a "birthday girl" shirt.

Happy Birthday, my Curly. Thank for being a great kid. I love you.

Tough Stuff

"Being 3 is really hard. I make mistakes."

"Everybody makes mistakes, Peanut. It's okay. That's how you learn."

"When I am 4 it will be easy because then I will know everything and I won't have to learn anymore."

"Baby, Mommy and Daddy make mistakes. Everyone does. It's okay to make mistakes. And it's good to keep learning. It helps you become a smart grownup."

"Are you smart?"

"I think so."

"Is Daddy?"

"Yes."

"Do you make mistakes?"

"Yes we do, sometimes."

"When you are 4 you won't make mistakes, Mommy."

"No?"

"No. You won't make mistakes when you are 4 like I am going to be."

"I've already been 4."

"But next time when you are 4."

"When is that going to be?"

"When I am a grown up, you can be 4."

"Deal!"

Birthday

Yesterday StinkyMan was going to the birthday party of one of his best friends in the whole wide world. He was so excited he could hardly stand it. When the gift was bagged and ready I wrote "To Friend. From:" and then he wrote "StinkyMan."

When I went to grab my shoes he decided he wanted to write something extra, so on the other side of the tag, in his very best writing, he wrote "Happy Birthday."

"Mommy! I writed Happy Birthday all by myself!" He was so, so proud of himself.

"Let me see!" I said, equally excited.

And there, in the nicest penmanship a 5 year old boy can manage it said "Happy Birfday."

It was the cutest thing EVER. He wrote it like he says it and that's good enough for me. I told him I was proud. He showed his Daddy. Daddy told him he was proud. No way were we about to burst that bubble!

He is such a sweet boy. I just love that kid.

Tipsy

So, while I am busy earning my Mommy of the Year award, I let my kids listen to Tik Tok by Kesha. The song is basically about how she's going to go clubbing and get her drink on.

I know, I know. But it has a good beat and you can dance to it. And the little kids are lyric clueless.

Not so much Curly who said "Mommy, what's drunk?"

"It's one you drink so much of a certain kind of drink that you aren't in control of yourself and you say and do dumb things that you would never do if you hadn't had too much to drink. It happens when you drink too much wine or beer or some other drinks."

Eyes wide and frightened, she whispered "Too much chocolate milk?"

"No," I reassured her. "You are okay with chocolate milk."

"Diet Coke?" she whispered again, fearful now of my habit (Yes, I picked it back up. I'm weak.)

"Not Diet Coke. Now go dance."

It's so cute how they can know so much and still know so little.

Cats and Dogs

I think it's pretty cute that BabyGirl thinks that kitty cats say "Meowp. Meowp."

It's even cuter when she's crawling around on all fours being a doggy that says "Whoop! Whoop!"

Discovery

My two middle children have discovered, the hard way, that cardboard boxes do not hold water.

Did you know...

StinkyMan is big into telling me things he knows, and it always starts with "Did you know...." and can be about just about anything.

Yesterday, as we were snuggling before bed he said "Mommy, did you know that there are three kinds of 2s?"

"There are?" I asked, curious to see where he was going.

"Yeah! I am going to the store is the T-O kind of to. She is two years old is the T-W-O kind of two. And if you say "I am big too" that is the T-O-O kind of too. Did you know that?"

"Well, I did, but there are lots of grownups that do not." I answered, thinking of some of the poor spelling I see daily on the Internet. "I think you might be as smart as a grown up!"

Then this morning, we were driving and he was noticing all the bare trees.

"Did you know that trees lose their leaves in the winter, so they look all brown?"

"I did know that, yes." I answered.

"But trees that do not lose leaves or turn brown are called Evergreens. Did you know that?"

"I might have heard that once before."

"I bet Daddy doesn't know."

"No?"

"No. I will tell him. Daddy knows about mowing lawns and about the pool, but I don't think he knows about Evergreens because we don't have any."

"Well, you be sure to tell him, then."

"I will."

And the thing is, while of course, I DO know much of what he tells me, I don't know how HE knows it. He's only in Kindergarten!

And I suspect it won't be long before my little smarty does tell me things I don't know anything about.