pwaytime

The plan was to get the kids down and tackle my still-long Saturday to-do list while Chad spent a late night at the youth dance. But, I couldn't resist her sweet plea to "p-way ponies, Mom!" and I wasn't up for yet another bed time battle with my girl (who is growing out of her 3 hour naps, but still taking them, which translates into not wanting to go to bed.)

We sat on the floor and she dumped out her bag of ponies (as in, My Little); I set to getting them all dressed and accessorized.  Lea started 'cooking' because "Ponies are thirsty, Mom."

"Put in marshmallows. Pour in milk. Mix. Mix. Mix. Sluuuurp! Mmmm! Tasty!  Ponies like to drink it."

When did she start saying marshmallows?  Just last month she would ask for a buffalo when she wanted one.  I miss it. 

"The ponies want to eat popcorn now. Mmm. Yummy! It is amazing!"

{smile} Amazing.  This girl is amazing, if you ask me.

"Hey! Where is the shoe? The pony needs another one.  I don't know? I'll look for it. Hmmm. Hey! My hippo!  See my hippo, Mom?  It is a hat! Uh-oh! Fall off.  Tricky!  I tricky too!" (somersault)

She is pretty tricky at getting out of bedtime, too.

"The pony is thirsty again.  Mix, mix, mix. Oh, yeah.  Boo-yah!"

That one made me laugh, and as I'm chuckling, she looks up, flashes a smile, and says, "I funny?"

It was worth ditching the list.

the family bed

This is what my bed looks like. Every morning.

Okay, we so we don't have a dog or cat (or, hopefully, a mouse and flea), but our bedposts sag under the weight of too many folks in the bed.

Although I used to be a big 'hamster nap' kind of girl, I'm afraid all this interrupted sleep is making me look more and more like the granny in this picture.  But, I'm trying to be more like my long-suffering hubby who says, "Just enjoy it. They won't climb in our bed forever."

At this point, it looks like they might!

Our Summer, in Pictures: August 2012

her words

A couple years ago, I was frustrated with my toddler who had no words.  It was maddening to not know what he needed or felt like or thought.  Now, I have a very vocal two-year-old, and sometimes knowing the mind of a toddler can be just as....well, interesting.

For example:

Today she told me my bottom looks like a pizza.  Let's hope she meant 'thin crust' and 'personal size'.

One of Lea's favorite phrases is "I don't know!" used after questions like, "Why did you dump sand in the car?" and "What happened to all 5 pairs of your shoes?"

Another favorite is when I call to her from another room, "Leeeeeea, what are you doooooing?" and her response is, "I making a mess!" (in the same sing-song way I called to her, of course).

She loves to argue.  Loves it.  Sometimes, she argues with herself.

She tells me she's stinky, demands everything be PINK (already!) and thinks she owns the iPad.

Lucky for me, all this craziness is also mingled with my girl who can count to ten, say her ABCs, sings all day, says "I love you" and "Oh, sorry!", who thinks every building is a temple and loves to say, "I see the temple, mom!"; my girl who 'helps' me read books, still loves naptime, asks to be rocked, and likes to show off her dance moves.

Lea on her birthday!  Happy #2!

Love this little thing!

the best kind of day

The warm, star-filled night beckoned and the big kids took Dad up on his summer-long offer to sleep on the deck.  Air mattresses were filled and bags were laid out as the kids settled into their slumber party, right outside our bedroom window.  I was surprised (but shouldn't have been) when Daddy jumped into his own bag out there with them instead of into the 'real' bed, with me.  I listened to their giggles and their gradually slowing breathing through the window as they drifted off to sleep.  Then, I did, too.

Mid-night, I was awakened by voices out on the deck: Kate and her Dad were in deep conversation about stars and satellites and planets and God's creations.  I couldn't help but listen in, and smile.

The morning broke, beautiful and cool.  The babies and I dragged our oatmeal to the porch to eat and we watched as the 'campers' gradually discovered morning.  When everyone was awake, we all gathered on the sleeping bags, giggling and wrestling and savoring the morning.  I can't think of a better way to start the day.

Oh, how I love summer!

Our Summer, In Pictures: July 2012

being there

She is nearly two, which means sometimes life is just too much for words.  And when she can't find her words, a tantrum ensues.
Like today, when, for no apparent reason, she threw her little body onto the floor, kicking and flailing and sobbing.  My coaxing and prodding and pleas for her to tell me what was wrong yielded nothing.  So, I scooped her up and laid down, putting her on my chest.
With her head under my chin and her feet nearly reaching my knees, she calmed down and we lied there together, breathing in syncopation.
IN in
OUT out
IN in
OUT out
Her little chest moved up and down against mine, her breath brushing lightly on my arm. Her curls tickled my face; little toes wiggled on my legs.  For a few minutes it was just me and her, in a moment that no calendar or to-do list can create. She was mine. And I, in that place, with nothing else begging my attention, was what could calm her troubles.
It is good to be the mom.

my girl, on the merry-go-round