Sunday, January 30, 2011
Me: "Ok, honey, that's good." Then to Lamont: "So at the women's ministries meeting this morning, we agreed that --"
Ashley: "When I was a little tiny baby, I was this small!" (hands spaced 2 inches apart)
Me: "You were when you were still in my tummy, but you were this small when you were born." (hands spaced much wider)
Ashley: "Oh, well I remember when I was little --"
Lamont, poking her: "You're still little!"
Hannah: "Now I'm going to have this bite!"
Lamont: "Ok, that's good. You know, Ashley, your mummy can remember when she was four years old like you. Isn't that neat? That means when you're older, you will probably remember some of the things you're doing now."
Ashley: "I already remember before we lived in this house, when we lived in our other house and my sister was a little tiny baby, and I got to hold her at the hospital!
Me: "You remember that? Wow! Bethany, your apples aren't supposed to dance, just eat them."
Lamont: "Holding new babies is kind of like holding puppies..."
Ashley: "Yes! I can't wait until we have a new little puppy! It will be so cute and I will hold it and it will lick me!"
Hannah: "I'm going to start with this apple, ok Mummy?"
Me: "Ok, but Hannah --"
Hannah: "I'm not going to tell you about any more bites after this apple!"
Me: "Ok, thank you. And Ashley, I know you're excited talking about puppies but you need to sit still to eat."
Lamont, looking at Ashley: "Excuse me?"
Ashley: "Excuse me!"
Lamont: "No, I mean -- Mummy told you to do something. What do you say?"
Ashley: "Excuse me?"
Me: *choking on silent laughter*
Lamont: "No! I'm not telling you to say excuse me, I'm telling you that you need to answer Mummy when she says something to you!"
Ashley: "Oh...yes Mummy!"
Hannah: "Now I'm going to eat this apple next, and then that one! But then I'm not going to tell you about the other apples."
Me: "Ok Hannah, thank you!"
Lamont: "How many more years do you suppose she'll inform us which bite she is going to take next before she takes it?"
Bethany, mouth stuffed to overflowing: "I'm finished!"
Me: "Good job, now you just need to chew that whole meatball you just stuffed in your mouth! And don't wave your plate around, please, just set it down on the table."
Ashley: "I need to hurry, Bethany is almost done and I want to get down first!"
Me: "It's not a race, you can just eat your dinner and not worry about your sisters. Are you actually full?"
Ashley: "Yes, I'm full. So I just want one more piece of apple, please!"
Lamont: "What were you saying about the women's ministries meeting?"
Hannah: "Now I'm going to eat this apple!"
Monday, January 24, 2011
I mean, look at this! Can you imagine how awful it is that I've been drinking something like this every single day?? (Yes, I know it looks amazing. Yes, I want it. Yes, that is the problem!)
Now if you're wondering if I plan to give up coffee forever...hahaha!!! Not a chance. But for several weeks I have been trying to ease off on the frequency of my coffee habit, and I can't do it. It is way too ingrained right now, and I am way too good at justifying it on any given day. So I'm going cold turkey, just for a week (it's actually 8 days...way longer than a week!), and hoping for a fresh start after that. I want to make it a treat again, not an everyday occurrence.
Look, I know I'm being all dramatic about this. I'm only partly serious about the drama, but if you know me at all, you know that I really do love my coffee.... So help me out, would you? Check in on me, remind me that you know I'm doing this -- hold me accountable! And in return, I promise to not think, even for a second, about the gorgeous, endless Starbucks cups in this picture....
Friday, January 21, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
It is 2:30 am. You are fast asleep in your cozy bed, hoping not to be awakened by little people any time soon. You are probably also having marvelous dreams. Suddenly the blissful calm of your subconscious is pierced by the misplaced discordance of...of...what on earth is that?!
A tried and tested mom who has earned every badge in rapid awakening, you take a mere heartbeat to realize there is noise downstairs. Noise, and talking, and -- a lot of noise. Your instant assumption is that your little people are downstairs for some reason, at 2:30 am, doing something very loud which they are mere seconds away from regretting very much.
As you lurch from your bed and zig-zag in a sleepy run down the hall, your subconscious brain madly processes back through the last 10 minutes or so of your blissful sleep, and rejects your hypothesis, informing you that no bedroom doors have been opened and closed recently, and no little footfalls have traveled down the hall. As you launch yourself down the stairs, you further realize that in order for your children to be responsible for the noise downstairs, they must have the night-time ability to transform their voices into high pitched, annoying animation. Rounding the corner as you grapple with these bizarre bits of information, you come to a dead stop at the sight of the tv blaring something about very happy, animated bears. Why is the tv on??
You cautiously approach the tv and hit the power button, immediately grateful for the blessed silence, but then wary of it as you stand frozen in the darkness and consider further the question of just how, exactly, the tv came to be turned on at 2:30 am, considering that your entire family was fast asleep. None of the options that spring to mind make you feel at all comfortable about standing alone in the dark downstairs, and in a fit of cowardice that you will later try and fail to describe in a more flattering light, you spin around and flee back up the stairs, racing down the hall and leaping back into bed.
Your husband, who is still working on earning his first badge in rapid awakening, sits up halfway. "What was that?", he asks in confusion. As you describe the situation you are relieved to note that he is becoming more and more alert, and your gratitude knows no bounds when he swings his legs over the side of the bed and declares that he will go look through the house. Ever the brave and stalwart back-up person, you creep to the top of the stairs as he heads down them and assure yourself that standing prepared to call 911 while he does the really scary part is quite noble indeed.
Your straining ears catch no sound of mortal combat, and a couple of minutes later your husband climbs back up the stairs, looking puzzled. He has peered into every space in the house that is larger than one square foot, and found them all empty, checked all the doors, and found them all still locked. Unsettled, you both return to bed. There follows a period of half an hour during which you both repeatedly pretend to be sleeping, until one of you moves too sharply, the other realizes you're both still faking, and you have frequent intense mini conversations, each of you putting forth increasingly bizarre possible reasons for the tv to have suddenly blared forth into the sanctity of 2:30 am silence.
At 3:15, your husband suddenly leaps out of bed again, declaring, "Ok, that's it. I'm looking online!" A few minutes of clicking and typing later, he returns to announce that page after page of posts on the DirectTV website are filled with other people describing their own tv-turning-on-in-the-middle-of-the-night experiences! DirectTV has not offered any explanation, so there is a distinct possibility that what is really going on here is some sort of illicit communication with aliens. Or a company expansion mind control project. Perhaps if they had targeted a different household, one in which nobody had earned any badges at all in rapid awakening, the inhabitants of that house would have all awoken in the morning with an overwhelming urge to purchase the "Choice Ultimate" programming package.
As it is, you and your husband are finally able to drift back to sleep, processing the strange new knowledge that apparently tvs are able to turn themselves on at 2:30 am. Who knew?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Possibly top 3.
Possibly top 1.
So since we're not talking about that...! It really was a wonderful two days of recharging with family and friends. Much as I've been loving building new relationships here in St. Maries, I miss the amazing support system and daily interaction with the people I love back home. Before we moved, we lived about 20 seconds away from one of my very dearest friends, Holly (owner of her own amazing photography business! http://www.hollyclousephotography.com), and the day to day "real life" friendship we built while we lived there is one I will always cherish. She knows me so very well and though I pray someday we may live close to each other again, in the meantime I love knowing that she'll always be one of my heart sisters! Here are our darling kiddos enjoying our visit together yesterday....
Goodness, judging by the ferocity of that hug I would say that maybe Bethany has been missing her little friend too! :-)
Now that is one lucky little boy! These five sweet kiddos have been friends literally since their births and have played together almost every single week of their lives. How neat is that??
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Do you see how high up she hacked it on the right side?? Like 8 inches! It was in pigtails when she cut it and somehow that resulted in a really strange cut pattern, worst on each side. Turns out we still were lucky, though, because I was told yesterday about a girl whose sister cut her entire pigtail off. Her entire pigtail.
She loved sitting in the big chair at the salon and felt altogether too special and happy about it, if you ask me. :-P We ended up taking off about 4 inches and layering the rest; it doesn't look perfect, but it's way improved and easy to handle now with certain hairstyles. The back looks unremarkable now that it's fixed with just some length off, so her after picture is from the front to show that she's still adorable!
Bethany's is more dramatic from start to finish. I don't even like looking at her before picture. See how those beautiful red curls are going along and then they just...stop? Yeah. :-(
Thursday, January 6, 2011
That is Ashley's hair on the left, and Bethany's on the right. And this is illicit hair, folks. Suffice it to say that Ashley has been told she may not use scissors again until she is 5. Since this is the second time she has handed out haircuts to herself or her sisters (to be fair, the first time was almost 2 years ago), I am dead serious about that. Grandmas and aunties reading this, take note!
I have always cut the girls' hair myself, but I am taking Bethany and Ashley to the hair salon this afternoon -- I already called ahead and described the damage to a very sympathetic stylist who promises she can help. Let's just say that Ashley is probably going to have shorter hair than she has since she was about 2 years old, and that the few baby curls that still remain on Bethany's head after Ashley's artwork may not survive the fixing process. :-(