This morning I took Zion and Israel and Layla to Goodwill with me to buy an armoire for Layla’s room with some Christmas money that she had received.  I saw it the day before when I was perusing, thought diligently about it all evening, and got there on the stroke of 9 AM in hopes that no one had purchased my treasure.  :)  They had not, and now it’s mine to go pick up.  

While we were there, the boys of course wanted to go look at the toys, and I agreed.  Israel immediately wanted to buy a red truck he found and a big yellow water gun to give to his best bud, Jeremiah, who is having a birthday “in six more days”, according to a most serious Israel.  I also agreed to this, and then caught sight of a little firetruck riding car that was just what I had been looking for in Layla’s size, but instead of $30, it was $1.50.  Happy sigh.  She happily rode her car through the store, up to the cash register, and out into the parking lot to the minivan.  

Layla is sitting on the rug beside me quietly and diligently messing with the snaps on the shirt that she had on before her bath.  

She is turning the fabric over and folding it up over and over again, with her little legs crossed in front of her, and has been doing so for about 15-20 minutes, with the utmost concentration and only a bit of chatter now and again.  I think that she is trying to snap the “snipper-snappers”, as I call them to her.   Actually, I usually say, “Let’s get your snipper-snappers, Mrs. Mappers!”  (I used to say the same thing to her brothers, but I called them MR. Mappers instead.)  She likes to cooperate and talk about her snipper-snappers when I do that.  

Israel, Zion, and Layla all have some hacking/coughing/snotting bug that had Israel up in the middle of the night vomiting after coughing.  I kept him home from school today so he doesn’t have to pass it on to anyone else.  

I have been on a rip-snortin’ tear decorating this house since we got back from Christmas, partially fueled, I believe, by the fact that, although Layla is 21 months old, for the first time in 9 years, I AM NOT ALSO PREGNANT.  Gives one much more energy and motivation, it does, to not be growing another human being whilst chasing after multiple little anklebiters at the same time.  Pictures are getting hung, bathroom hardware put up, shelving installed.  It’s all very delightful, four years after moving into this house.  

I’m feeling exhausted and achy tonight after getting up four billion times last night with the young coughing whipper-snappers (can I just say that cold-mist vaporizers are LIFE SAVERS), and am lying here quite comfortably on the couch by the pellet stove (which is off due to the crazily warm weather we are having) listening to the wind roaring outside, and eating rice krispy bars with great relish.  

Earlier, I was so cranky and crabby that I went and clambered into a hot whirlpool bath before supper, surrounding myself with yummy smelling pina colada candles.  For supper I fixed the ultra quick and easy Cheese Tortellini soup that contains chicken broth, frozen cheese tortellini, and frozen brussels sprouts.  The boys LOVE this soup, and as they were getting up to the table, Gabe said, with a disbelieving tone, “Did you know that some kids don’t like brussels sprouts??!?”  He shook his head over the incongruity of such a thing.  ”I LOVE brussels sprouts!!  And some kids don’t like broccoli either!!  I LOVE broccoli!”  Israel heartily agreed with these sentiments, and I thought that perhaps they were two oddities in the child world.  

Later, at the table, Zion, who was seated next to me, gregariously informed me that he didn’t USE to like “these” (the aforementioned sprouts), but now he does.  I “Oh!”-ed and “Well, that’s good!”-ed, and then watched him out of the corner of my eye as he bravely popped the entire sprout into his mouth and began to chew with a slightly disconcerted look.  He chewed and chewed and….chewed…and…slowed…and then a look of great distaste came over his face and he not-so-discreetly opened his mouth and dropped the whole shebang on the floor beneath his chair.  I would say that would be a much more normal child-reaction to “sprouts”, myself..  ;)  They’re an acquired taste, I think.

One thing that always makes me grin about Zion is how widely he opens his mouth to take bites of food.  Here he is by the window enjoying a noodle snack the other day.

I just liked this combo of boy and sunlight and yellow and plant and found it aesthetically pleasing.

   

As we’re leaving the McDonald’s drive-thru…

Zion:  That was a ga-wohl (girl).  I hate ga-wohls.

Mommy:  What?!  Why do you hate girls??

Zion:  I just hate little ga-wohls.  Except I don’t hate Layla.  And Gabe and Israel don’t hate Layla.  They think she’s a quootie-pie.  And I think she’s a quootie-pie too. And Dad thinks she’s a teense.  And you think she’s a princess.

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(As Zion and Layla are “racing” back and forth down the hallway as I work on unpacking Layla’s clothes from Christmas)

Zion:  Mom, I was in first place and I won!!

Me:  Good job!!

(We both pause to look at Layla, who is delightedly stretched out on a bed of clothes in the hallway, wiggling her feet happily and grinning.)

Zion:  (with happy relish) And Layla was in the Cutie Pie place and the Princess Place!  (He finds his sister very cute when he is not finding her very annoying.  )

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(This was the face he made when I told him to smile.    It makes me grin widely.)

Layla brought me this dress yesterday, out of her closet, and I put it on over her pajamas.  She gazed down at her dress-clad belly happily and said “P’ea!” (pretty) with satisfaction.  She is very aware of “pretty” clothes, and loves to be told that her shirt or dress is pretty, and will comment that something I am wearing is “p’ea!”.  This dress is hand-me-down from her cousin Aubrey.

Seeing her in this dress reminded me that I have wanted to take her picture for, oh, like, MONTHS, so I hurried to get the rest of her clothes and went out the door to take her picture.  She was happily cooperative, and loves to smile at her daddy, who was helping me.  

She’s a “p’ea” lil’ ol’ cutie.  

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Layla loves to color or scribble with a pencil on paper, books, walls, or herself.    She appears to be left-handed.

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Ms. Teensy Moo has been sleeping TERRIBLY since returning from our Christmas travels, in case anyone is interested.  Cutting eye teeth and a cough that makes her occasionally vomit are the current problems.  NOT a big fan of this new sleeplessness we have going on around here AT ALL.  

She’s quite the dear when she is sleeping, though…  Look at that precious little ear and sweet little head.  Smooch smooch smooch smooch….

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Layla loves her baby dolls.  Here she was rocking and singing to her baby that she had wrapped up in a blanket.  She’ll sing “Nighty night, c’ose (close) your eyes”, from a song that Grandma Edith has sang to her.  She loves to be cuddled and sang to, also.

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Baby Girl loves her some “ba’s” (baths).  She is so cute all wrapped up in her towel post-bath, and walks around very happily in her towel for a while.  

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Layla is talking a lot and very active.  She loves to run around the house with her brothers, and crow and screech with glee.  She is quite the adamant little pal, and has NO TROUBLE sticking up for herself with them when she feels her rights and privileges have been trod upon unnecessarily.    She is quick to answer “Doa!!” (NO!!) to most things you may ask her, without necessarily meaning it.  She is happy and cheerful and affectionate and cuddly.  She asks for “Daddy tisses” (Daddy kisses) before going to bed – and just asks about him a lot, period.  ”Daddy ‘back?” “Yes, Daddy will be back.” She LOOOOOVES her daddy and brothers, and they come right in line after Mommy.   Mommy is still the bees knees.  She looooves to help me with everything I do.  She loves to look outside for “kie-kie’s” (kitty-kitties).  

One night when she was up late, Tim took her right outside the front door to listen to the train passing, which is about 1/4 mile away and sounded very loud with the cloud cover.  She came back inside and hurried over to the couch where I was sitting and said in a hushed tone with an astonished look on her face, “Mommy!!  Noisy!!!”  She talked about “Noisy!” for a few days later, again with a wide-eyed, listening look on her face.  

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Girlfrien’ is an AVID pepper-er.

 

I turned 35 on January 7.  It was quiet and delicious.  I stayed home all day, except to pick some food up so that I didn’t have to cook and to pick up some more paint at Lowes as Tim worked all day on his day off on my birthday present: painting the office.  It was all I wanted and now I have a beautifully painted room.  For supper, we had pizza

 

and a cake that I picked out (at the store ), which contained 29 candles, as that was all that I could find and I thought it was an appropriate number, after all.   

I sat around the table very happily with my chattering family and when they all sang Happy Birthday to me and I blew out all of my 29 candles, I had a huge, satisfied grin on my face and in my heart.  Just a very good day.  

I also: wore a very nice present from my mother-in-law, received a birthday check from my parents and a birthday card from Tim’s Grandma Polly, got a birthday call from my brother and aunt Frances and another one from my sister-in-law, Melody, and a carefully wrapped shoebox from Israel containing a little plastic container with a folded $2 bill in it that he had found laying around somewhere.  He thought that I could use the container to keep my money in.  Initially, he had been working on this project, which was abandoned in favor of the “money container” when I accidentally caught sight of it.  

Thirty five is a sort of startling number to have as a birthday.  It means that I am officially closer to 40 than to 30, while 18 still doesn’t feel that long ago.  Just weird.  

We also had a very generous couple who know us a bit offer, out of the blue, to babysit for free so that we could have a break, and so the weekend after my birthday we went out for Indian food and old-people shopping (heh heheh heh) to Home Depot, where we browsed interested-ly around, to Michael’s (where Tim expressed extreme disinterest) and then to Staples (where I was ready to go PRONTO and Tim would happily have lingered).  We came home to find four happy kids, who had a great time, and a full batch of chili waiting in the fridge to be served as a meal, and two frozen meals in my freezer all of which I discovered in the night and day after they left!!! That is three meals that I don’t have to worry about, PLUS free babysitting…may they be blessed at LEAST ten times over!!!  Awesome way to end my birthday week!

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I am reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to the boys right now after happily finding both the book and the (original) movie at Goodwill.  Tonight i got to the part where Charlie finally finds the golden ticket and i was going to stop there for the night but relented when both of the two older boys begged me to read the next chapter too where Charlie goes home to tell his family. They jumped up and down and pleaded, and Gabe told me that he was so excited that he was shaking.  

This book in particular has really caught Gabe’s imagination.  It’s just so much fun to share good books with your kids.

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Zion: (heaving the bathroom scale over to the bathroom rug) Mom, don’t you want to see how big my feet are??

(His feet were 34 1/2 pounds big.  )

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She stands in front of me

teething

and sleepless

again

wrapped in pink ballerina monkey pajamas

Her baby belly rounding out the front

Diapered bottom rounding out the back

Her feet stand in her brother’s shoes

splayed out on the wrong feet

Blond curls fuzz around her head

Dark-lashed eyes peer with interest into mine

her cheeks puff out and her gaze is bright

as she talks to me of “shoosh” (shoes)

I watch her face

this cheerful night-time friend

and hold her hand

my eyes smile back into hers

and I think

about how she makes my heart

feel like it could burst with joy.

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For a while, lately, I’ve been sort of taking a blog break.  Writing down things here and there, but not necessarily publishing them.  A breather.  I feel like I am just doing the living, and the living is sweet, and I am savoring it.  

The living involves lots of care of a one-year old who needs lots of lap time and nursing and holding and cuddling, and a four year old who loves to be held and needs tending and attention and help with sippy-cups/clothes/bathroom/shoes/etc, and a six year old who is very creative and artistic and always creating things or painting things and who has a ready, happy smile, and an eight year old who has two new front teeth that make him look a lot older and who needs help refocusing on school work that needs to be done and who enjoys reading and loves to laugh and a house and laundry pile which is ever reflecting the existence of all these people.  

I feel like I’m just soaking life in, and watching each day pass with a smile, without the pressure of recording it, and it is good.  But at the same time, I love to read back on the days that I have lived with these kids and have been surprised at all I would have forgotten if I hadn’t written it down, and so I’m trying to figure out the balance of the two.