Next time try harder

It is a gorgeous here today.  The sun is out, the birds are singing, the sky is clear blue...and every speck of dirt and dust is in clear view!!  AAACCKK!!

So while I avoid housework and the laundry-palooza that has begun in my bedroom, I have to tell you about my latest tactic to try to get the girls in the car faster.

Do your kiddos struggle with getting in and out of the car or is it just mine?   I swear, we FINALLY get out of the house, climb into the van and STAND THERE.  THEN we like to FINALLY get in our seats and just SIT THERE.  Meanwhile, I run chronically late for everything and I turn into a mean mommy-tornado over my two pokey little puppies.  

It's really not the best way to start the day.

So we've started to race.  I wasn't really concerned with there being a winner or a loser...I just wanted them in their seats with their belts buckled.  However, THEY were concerned with a winner.

And quickly created an imaginary gold trophy.

Awesome. 

At first, Rachel didn't care.  She would continue to poke along and dodge my requests to buckle up with a lack of eye contact.  Then she heard Elizabeth bragging about the gold trophy.

And it was game on for the 3-year-old.

Before I knew it, I had a sobbing oldest child in the backseat.

"What is wrong with you?"  I asked...we were still late so I was just slightly irritated.

"I loooooost!!"  she sobbed.  "I WANTED TO WIN!!  BUT I DIDN'T!  RACHEL WON!!"

I looked at Rachel, who was grinning at me, holding up her hands to show me her imaginary gold trophy.

It was just too much for me to stay irritated.  "Oh honey!!  Great job!!  I love your gold trophy!  And look how quick you got buckled!!  Elizabeth, you just have to get buckled quicker!"

*cue more sobbing*

So this went on for a couple days and Elizabeth kept creating new races to redeem herself.  To no avail, Rachel ran the floor with her. 

Rachel won the race to the front door of the Y.

She got up the stairs and into the house first.

And each time, Elizabeth turned into a dramatic puddle of tears, which she mopped up with her bottom lip.

"Tuck your lip in,"  I'd tell her every time.  "You need to stop talking and actually try."

See, that's what would happen.  She'd throw out the challenge and then get caught up showing me a butterfly or finding something on the ground while Rachel just stuck to the plan of the race. 

One night at dinner, Elizabeth was her usual, defeated self because Rachel had beat her setting the forks on the table...because she had stopped to play with a balloon...and yes, I AM a little worried about the learning curve with that one.  

Well Scott walked in and, after hearing what she was crying about, told her that if she tried her hardest then it really didn't matter if she won or lost and that if she didn't stop the moaning, she could go right up to bed since it sounded like she was too tired for dessert.

That dried them up.

So this morning, she set out on a new mission.  We were already late for preschool (shocker) so when I called them to go get in the car, they shot into the garage like little cannons.  

Impressed with their focus and speed, I held my breath while strapping Caleb in. 

"I won!!"  Elizabeth shouted as her seat belt clicked just seconds before Rachel's.  "I won, I won, I wo-on!!  Rachel, YOU didn't win.  YOU didn't get the gold trophy...I did!!"

Can you imagine how fast my head whipped around in the front seat?  Times that by two.

"Elizabeth!  That is NOT the way to be a good winner!  No one is going to want to play or race with you if you win like that.  The nice thing to do is to say, 'Woo-hoo!  I won!  Good job, Rachel!  You tried hard and did your best!"

She looked at me like I was speaking Spanish.

After taking that spectacular piece of sportsmanship wisdom in, my oldest looked at her sister and said,  "Yay!  I won!  Good job, Rachel.  But next time, try harder!"

*sigh*

I can't wait until Caleb gets into the mix...that should be loads of fun.  Have a great weekend!

Kissing Lessons

Elizabeth got in trouble today at preschool.

Now, normally, she's a pretty good kid and doesn't push too many buttons in public.  I hear from everyone what a good young lady she is.

It's a blessing, really.

But I have noticed that we have started to have quite the goings-on when I pick her up from preschool.  She has to hug at least four of her friends before leaving.  Last week, it even got excessive and she knocked one kid down to the floor and I caught her kissing another.

We talk about not kissing others.  This came about when I caught her and her best friend kissing "like the Disney princesses."  So we give hugs, but no kisses except to our family...and we definitely don't hug to knock down  (except maybe our family...).

So at dinner that night, her daddy got in on the action when Elizabeth admitted that she liked to chase around the boys...and laugh... and kiss them.  

Scott's head whipped around.  "You do not kiss boys!"

"But they like for me to kiss them!"  She argued.

This conversation went on and we had all thought we had come to an agreement until I went to pick her up today.  The kids had come out of the classroom, into the hallway like an avalanche of papers and arms and legs and loud voices...our oldest in the middle of it all.

"Ok, Mom...I'm just going to go say goodbye to my friends and give them hugs... and kisses...."

"Elizabeth, we are not kissing and you need to just give quick hugs.  You shouldn't end up rolling around on the floor."  (Seriously, the life lessons you cover at the age of 4...)

I had my back to her when I heard her teacher correcting her for kissing and I turned around to see her arms around the smallest stud muffin you've ever seen.  The kid has an olive complexion, long dark hair and the cutest smile.  He was screaming that he was going to die now that he'd been kissed and proceeded to spin around and then land right in front of me...with his eyes open.

Oh my...this could be bad...

So when my husband got home, I let him unwind before I brought it up.

"Elizabeth got in trouble today for kissing a boy."

"Elizabeth!  I thought we had discussed this!  You do not kiss boys!"

"But Daaaaaaddddyyyy!!  He wants me to kiss him!  He tells me to and then runs away so I'll chase him!"  (Imagine that in your most dramatic little voice ever.  Like Scarlett with less accent.)

"YOU DEFINITELY DON'T CHASE BOYS!  OR KISS THEM!  YOU DON'T KISS OR CHASE BOYS!!"

"Or girls!!"  piped in the little sister, who was getting quite a kick out of the entire lesson.

We went on with our evening, having dinner, getting baths and putting on pj's.  It was only until he opened Aunt Allison's most recent book, gifted to Rachel and advising against stealing kisses, that he remembered to drill the point home.

"And we definitely don't kiss boys.  What was that boy's name again?  Baylor??  Baylor is a silly name.  If he tries to get you to kiss him again, you kick him in the shins..."

"That's enough, Daddy!"  called Mama from the other room.

And we are off on yet another adventure...  :)

Gymnastics Drama

You're getting my coffee time today.  It's cold and dreary outside with just a little bit of snow in the air.  I made the comment to Elizabeth that we should be thankful for our warm house on a day like today.  When she walked outside, she looked around and said, "I sure don't see the snow...oh wait, there it is."

Drama.

Speaking of drama, we started back to gymnastics yesterday and I was a little bit worried by how our little sister would do.  I braced myself for the worst, half-expecting tears and tantrums.  The night before, she insisted that she didn't want to go.  

"But Mama!!  (Italicized for whininess)  I don't want to go to gymnastics!!  I don't want to wear a yeotuck (i.e. leotard). 

"Why Rachel?  We've been waiting for you to turn 3 to start gymnastics again.  I thought this was something that you wanted to do."

"Nooooo!!  I want to sit on your lap and eat goldfish!!"

*LIGHTBULB*

When Rachel turned two, we were going to a wonderful gymnastics facility that catered beautifully to the younger crowd.  The only problem with it was that it was 45 miles away, one way.  But we continued the trek because we had good friends there and I wanted to give Rachel the early opportunity that Elizabeth had had.  However, no one told that to Rachel.

She cried and screamed and refused to go out on the floor.  So she ended up staying in the stands, cuddled up in my lap, munching on goldfish or a similar snack while Elizabeth did her class.  Even when Caleb was born, it continued the same until I forced her out on the floor, literally kicking and screaming.

The beginning of Elizabeth's gymnastics career.  She had just turned two and was a wild woman.  Her friend, Kensley, is on the balance beam.

First day Rachel agreed to get on the floor. 

I never once thought that wanting my one-on-one attention was keeping her from going out there.  Until she fessed up during her fit the other night.  (#middlechildproblems)

"Rachel, you can't sit on my lap anymore, I have Caleb and I won't be sitting down.  And I am not going to bring any snacks.  You need to try it at least once.  If you don't like it, I won't make you go back any more."

Well, this just hit the new three-year-old like a ton of bricks.  

We compromised on the "yeotuck" and let her just wear a shirt and some leggings and, after confirming that I indeed did not bring snacks with me, out she went on the floor with Elizabeth, without a fuss.

That is not to say she participated though.  But she didn't cry.

The group did jumping jacks, Rachel stood there and looked down.

The group ran down a runway and jumped in a pile of foam blocks, Rachel walked to the edge of the pile and looked in.  

The group did crab crawls down a line, Rachel walked beside it.

This was about the case for the first half hour.  I was seriously considering throwing in the towel and trying the whole thing again in six months.  To make matters worse, Captain Busy Britches was not thrilled to NOT be out on the floor with the girls and basically ran havoc of the place the entire time.

And then I saw it.

The smile.  

Suddenly, Rachel was on Elizabeth's heels, chasing and participating...jumping and climbing.  She was laughing and having a great time.  And at the end, she even inched her way into the pile of foam blocks...but just a little bit.

Oh-thank-goodness. 

What a nerve-wracking parenting stage.  I remember being dragged to my first softball practice.  I was super shy and the girls were all bigger than me and I'm pretty sure my dad dropped me off and left.  It was horrible...until it was fun.  Looking back at that, I remember in living color the dread that overcame me, having to walk down to that field.  And eventually softball became quite a large part of my life and eventually was one of the resources that lead me to meet my husband.  So I ideally, should be thankful for the experience. 

But I never told my dad about another sport tryout again. 

I got in the car, praying endless prayers of thanksgiving that it not only went well, but that I could get Caleb strapped into one place again.  And then treated my big gymnastics superstars to lunch.  

And of course, they were famished...because there had been no snacks... :)

Happy weekend!

A Third Birthday for Rachel!!

Ok, folks...it's official!  We have another child out of the two's!!  *cue streamers and party horns!!*

Yesterday was Rachel's third birthday and we had a wonderful day celebrating her.  It was also a stellar day for mama, as we got out of the house (with no sickness!!) and off to the Y without a hitch. 

Did I mention what Elizabeth said to me Saturday?  I was bending over and she came up and patted my stomach and said, "Mama, your belly is getting bigger.  Are we going to have another baby?"

Nothing builds your confidence up like a four-year-old. 

So anyway, we went to the Y and got a good sweat on.  Once we came home, we had a wonderful playdate and lunch with friends. 

Seriously, why does my child look like she could be 16 in this picture?!

We took off in the afternoon to pick up the birthday cake from Publix (she picked out a Minnie cake) and also got a couple of balloons.  I can't remember what started the tradition, but we always get the girls balloons on their birthday - one each.  Elizabeth tried telling me that Caleb wanted one, but I blew it off.

Silly mommy...

Haha!  Both balloons are mine!!

My mom always let us pick whatever we wanted to eat for dinner on our birthdays and I love to do the same.  Although I almost lost my teeth when Rachel asked for chicken, green beans and noodles this year.

"Are you sure, honey?  Wouldn't you rather have something else?" I asked.

"No,"  she said.  "I like chicken, green beans and NOODLES!!"

"Do you want mac and cheese noodles?"

"NO!  I JUST WANT BUTTER NOODLES!!"

(Why did that require yelling??  Maybe she thought I couldn't hear her...)

So I fixed grilled BBQ chicken, steamed fresh beans and egg noodles with butter.  

Guess what the new three-year-old ate?  Yup...noodles.  Oh, and the required three bites of chicken and beans in order to get cake.

Brat.

Birthdays...they take it out of you...

A little bit about Rachel as she turns three.  You know, when I was carrying her, it was hard to believe that children who would come from the same parents would have such different personalities...I think that's just an aspect of parenting that you get when you experience it.  And she is drastically different from the other two.  

Rachel is sensitive and shy - she is slow to warm up to people she doesn't know well and many people say they didn't know she could talk until they hear her talk to me.  At that point, she talks my head off.  She is intelligent and has always talked in full sentences and thoughts.  She's also our biggest snuggler.  The other two will wiggle out of a hug pretty fast but Rachel will stay on your lap and be held as long as you let her.  And I think, because she's sensitive, she can also throw some whopper fits. 

She is very imaginative and loves to play Barbies or dolls and has gotten really good at puzzles.  She runs fast and is very athletic...jumping, kicking, and dancing.  

Oh, and she loves cake.

The kid scooped her cake out like she was digging a trench.  Oh, and you know who else liked cake?

You guessed, it...captain icing face.  Oh, and just in case you didn't get enough with that video...

Anybody got a firehose??

Happy birthday, Rachel Lynn!  We love you!

Surviving the Sickos...

I do believe we're on the other side, folks.  

Last Thursday began our descent into the mystery virus that attacked my children's eyes, sinuses and bellies.  Elizabeth got it far worse than anyone else and only started feeling better today.

Which means that we haven't gone anywhere.

For days.  

And days...

But this morning, I think we're on the mend and can venture outside our sick box.  Today's goal is to make it to the UPS Store...and maybe the library...and maybe Target... (And now you know I'm truly crazy if I'm thinking of taking 3 kids to 3 different stops!)

So...what have we been doing while we were home bound?

I'm so glad you asked...

I got a ton of house cleaning done...not that you would know it now that my mini-tornadoes are feeling better.  I got the picture collage wall almost done in the dining room...

I had started it, but needed more frames and I couldn't find any more to match the dark brown ones I had so I had to switch them all to black...and then decided to incorporate the cream...well, it was a process.  But I'm happy with it.  (And also happy that I found those knock-off bloom frames at Hobby Lobby for about $5!!)

I also tried to record Caleb a little more, as I realized doing a photo project that I didn't have a ton of pictures of his milestones.  So here's his first nursing job...

Elizabeth, are you feeling better?  I will grab a toy and hit you in the face with it to make sure.

  And his first fake cry...

Nope!  No tears here!!

And I finally got some steps (and dancing) recorded...enjoy!!

Stay healthy my friends!!

Happy Valentines to Mama

Elizabeth is getting to a really fun age.  She's old enough to have conversations - real ones.  You can see her true personality starting to shine through; she's sweet and loud and sensitive and outgoing all wrapped into one little body.

I'm pretty much head-over-heels with my oldest. 

Self portrait ala ERS

So the girls have been doing this thing after we kiss them goodnight for a while.  "I gotta tell you something!!" They yell from their bed.

Normally, as we are walking to the door, they start.  Lately, it's been Rachel first.

"But Mom!!  I gotta tell you sompin...Can you go downstairs and look on the computer and see if there's a Minnie cash register??"

"A Barbie mermadia doll??"

"A Minnie doll?"

"A Princess and the Popstar guitar??"

And on and on it goes.  At first it was cute but as it went on, they would get more and more hyped up, just as we were trying to get them to go to sleep.  So Scott outlawed it.  No longer were they allowed to shout requests from their beds.

Now instead, they work them in as we give them kisses and hugs.  Which is fine, but it's EVERY TIME we put them to bed.

So tonight, I was tucking Elizabeth in by herself.  Rachel had gone down for the count early and I put her to bed long before her sister and even brother.  Elizabeth and I alone read books and rocked in the chair...something we hadn't done, just the two of us, in such a long time.  

I had just kissed her forehead when she started, "Mom...Can I tell you something?

"What is it, sweetie," I asked, smoothing down the covers.

"Can you go downstairs and look on the computer...and see if there are any earrings...for you?"

I stopped.

"For me?"

"Yeah, you look pretty in earrings.  I think you should get some butterfly ones."

*Five seconds of stunned silence*

"Thank you honey, I will look.  I love you so much."

"I love you, Mom, goodnight."

:)  And just like that, I am blessed beyond measure once again.  Funny how a stressful day can get washed away by just a few words.

Happy Valentines Day, my friends!

Randomness

I'm giving myself one cup of coffee to write this post.  

That's what I tell Elizabeth when she wants to play Barbies while the other two are sleeping.  "I'll play one cup of coffee worth of Barbies, then I've got to get to work."  I should have never let her know that I knew how to play because now she's after me all the time.  And her Barbies have no clothes...who knew that we had all swimsuit Barbies??  It's troubling when your doctor comes into your beach house to check on the mom (who is sick, of course) wearing a bikini.  

But then it IS a beach house, I guess.  

Well, today is day three of survival with my husband out of town and I'm about ready to crack, people.  I would say that my crew is tired of just mama, but then they won't leave me alone.  

Here's how I cooked dinner last night:

Notice that pot on the stove?  It held my spaghetti noodles.  See those adorable children all over the floor in front of said stove??  But I really can't blame them.  I remember hauling all that stuff out too when I was little - especially the old steamer Rachel's playing with.  I always thought that thing was fascinating.  Elizabeth likes to put the pots on top of the vents and tells me she's cooking when the heat kicks on.

Of course, then we had the spaghetti aftermath... I don't think there's any saving that shirt.

Which reminds me, I still have laundry to fold upstairs.

Speaking of laundry, in the saga of picky dressers, Elizabeth actually told me that she'd rather ME pick out her clothes.  That was a couple days ago and we really haven't had any arguments, which is a miracle.  

Now Rachel is a totally different story.

This would be the outfit my two-year-old picked out this morning.  Why yes, those ARE white tights.  And no, she doesn't WANT a skirt.  And yes, that IS a Christmas shirt, since it's the most wonderful time of the year, don't you know.  

Ok, my coffee's gone, Rachel's decided she doesn't NEED a nap and the laundry is now screaming at me from upstairs.  

Have a great Wednesday!