Oh my heart aches, it cracks open, and open, and open.  It's joyous sorrow I feel, and it's slippery to contain.  I know I'm making inroads against unconscious behavior, it's just so difficult sometimes, this becoming.  I feel my organs rearranging, though there's resistance there's nothing to fight against, preparing for flight.

Monk-a-doodle has been experiencing illness past few days, still not quite back yet, and Baby R has just been so fussy today.  I've so much work to do and not enough time, and I keep bullishly stepping in my own way creating environmental stress where there needn't be, i.e. tiring myself with less sleep, not eating my best or at all, too much sugar, avoiding yoga and meditation, sitting in overwhelm instead of moving that small inch that's a cinch.

Watching snow fall, wishing I could go out in it and be completely alone for a undetermined time.

And I read this and this.  There's so much becoming all around when one looks for it, we're on an upswing I'm positive.

It's a Day, or not even, it's only A Morning.

I'm feeling nervous about the decision to put The Second born into a 2-day all day program at the Waldorf Charter School.  Probably because today we had an epic morning.

It began with angry elder sister, pick-pick-picking on little sister, while I sang loudly my operatic "Be Kind or Be quiet!" aria.  Then about 4 minutes of timed bickering (probably longer, but once they heard the "$1 a minute!" jingle I improvised, it got quieter). I'm holding the $4 ($1 or 1 household contribution per minute bickering fee) until they get contributions done.

It's a fairly cold, snowy morning, diamond dust in the air, and champagne powder on my truck, so we're already late. But I'm surrendering to the flow of the morning, 'cause I don't wanna make the crazed rush only to be stuck in traffic.

Everyone fed, and getting ready to leave, the Middle One begins her lament about some random item that was or was not seen, or worn, or toted.  Shortly prior to this, she, in the same breath, shared about what she likes at school and then proceeded to whine "puwheease take me out of dis school, momma".

I kept breathing, kept moving forward. Of course, this new development of crazy from her little sister budged Miss Monkey to swing back into sweet-and-helpful mode.

The Second Born proceeds to scream in her trademark screech about how her legs are cold (she chose to wear a long skirt with long socks), but when offered her coat or pants, she screeches again in response.  Her tragedy is most definitely waking neighbors.

We've embarked the vehicle, finally, when I feel I simply cannot drive with her screeching behind me.  I pull over into the empty, snow covered, parking lot of the park directly across the street.  I remove her from the vehicle, lovingly, firmly inform her that I cannot drive safely with her screaming and caterwauling behind me, help her with her coat and hat, "Scream out here all you want. You are welcome back in my car when you're done making that noise."

I keep breathing and recall yesterday when it was time for baby to nurse and rest, I resorted to locking myself in our bedroom to avoid a more serious conflict with her.  It had been a busy morning, back from the gym she had launched, unprompted, into a caterwauling lament about how she wasn't tired and wasn't hungry.  There's a pattern here, and I'm the common thread. Remove myself and alter the pattern, though maybe not as compassionate as I intend (yet), it's all I can muster sometimes.

Back in the snow, 2 minutes or less outside, some impressive lungfuls of air from her, and she calms. Asking for a hug, I'm happy to comply, and then she's eventually back in her seat and we're on our way.

But that's not all...

upon arrival at school, there's more tragedy, most likely trickle down from dramas earlier in the morning. Then hugs, and I'm off, but only to contend with the baby boy hollering fiercely all the way home.

I'm off to crock something for dinner, fold masses of laundry, and maybe get a 1/2 hour or so to sit atop my bike-on-trainer and lift something other than baby weight.

Happy day!

workin' through stress

This Year

Last year this time we were beginning the search for another place to live, and preparing to file bankruptcy. This year, we've redefined our finances and successfully, and gratefully, been living abundantly.

This year we moved (again), and made firm decision to live in This House for the forseeable future, we are purchasing, and stretching out into the permanence of our decision. Interestingly this material permanence has produced interior growth and shifts.

This year I succeeded in homeschooling my firstborn into reading and the 4 arithmetic processes, then spring came as did the bouncing baby boy, and lots of learning for the Little-Big sister as well as the Big-Big sister.  It became painfully apparent in the fall that homeschooling wasn't serving her, my energetic resources were stretched too thin. The school we enrolled with has been a serendipitous blessing. Her favorite subjects at holiday break are handwork, eurythmy, and spanish.  Observing her this Christmastime, she's grown immensely, the space created with her attendance to Mountain Phoenix has allowed she and I to travel more parallel than crosswise.  With a whole new community to explore and connect with, she and I have had our work cut out for us---for me especially amidst learning the means and methods of brick-and-mortar school.  And I've mourned the change, still do when I come across some curriculum material.  I've fallen in love with her again, she's really a magnificent little person.  She's lost teeth, gained a new kitten and a couple of hermit crabs, gotten her ears pierced, left gymnastics, learned to knit, started soccer and is excited about volleyball.

This year, Little-Big sister, giggly in the middle, has grown into a character of comedy.  While she does push in her 3 year old way, it's been interesting watching her roll into her role.  With a break from her big sister she's grown into her own person bit by bit, has her own community of friends at MHCEC.  Lovely have been the afternoons driving to the pick up line while The Second-born is giggling herself stupid in the backseat making baby brother laugh.  It appears she's about to step up into the preschool room, quite a bit earlier than I ever considered...based on her verbal skills, her ability to use scissors, and dress herself among many other things.

This year, a beautiful baby arrived, he graced us with his presence late May and has been a complete joy.  It must be stated, boys and girls are different from the start.  As soon as he surpassed the first vague interactions, without coercing, steering, or guiding...boys are different than girls.  He has a different personality of course, but I'm noticing, what I surmise, are basic male v. female differences with development and activity and interest.  I find myself studying all little boys more closely, researching this boy-energy.  He's starting to rock, he creeps a bit, and tummy-spins and rolls about the floor loudly babbling his focus or his frustration. Already he has definite opinions about injustices of mommy needing to eat or potty-break. Gratefully he has innate patience when it's necessary to focus my attention on the ridiculous 3 year-old antics.

This year, The Man and I have succeeded in moving the household, straightening out and recommitting our responsibilities financially, getting comfortable and enjoying our community, disagreeing then agreeing, laughing and loving, redoubling our conscious parenting efforts, gracefully growing forward.  I'm so blessed to have this man as my partner in this adventure.

Happily happily into the new calendar year!

It's been too long. So, I'll begin my catch up with a bit of Halloween, which it amazes me has turned into an incredible endeavor, lasting about a week with all the activities....it's exhausting. I'm so glad Nov 1 came when it did, and doubly so that Miss Monkey didn't have school that day---some smart people there.  There was a nautical theme this year, the new mermaid costume was completed in time, and the Second born was ecstatic to wear the previous purpler version.

We've been regulars at Boo at the Zoo most of the past 6 years, this year was no different. Mermaids of course must ride dolphins or small polar bears.

Baby rode around as an inking octopus, and I've not hunted down the better pics of that costume. After the first outing I had to tweak it a little to make it more realistically shaped.  He wasn't especially enthused about donning the costume, but was out cold in the Ergo every time.  Note: costumes must be durable and ready to wear multiple times, minimum 3 this year (Boo at Zoo, Trunk or Treat, school costume parades, and of course Halloween proper evening)

There were many pumpkins this year as we attended an extra carving party, and of course baby had to have one as well, I think we totaled 7.  

A success all around. : )

Rainbow days

After a storm there are rainbows. I had several phone calls and a

surprise visit from The Man, I took small actions toward
mitigating the chaos, and started to feel better. That momentum built
a good finish to the day and into the next. Amazing how prayer works, even simply in the asking for help there is peace.
There were no giant altercations betwixt the girls, the baby was
typical happy baby, and I got some more done with the house. I forget that effectively we just moved in. Moving, remodeling, requires patience of process.

Grateful for the dojo as an added accountability for The Firstborn and her behavior.

Grateful on the way home this evening we chased a rainbow. F was so excited trying to figure out how to reach the end of that rainbow, I thoroughly enjoyed discussing strategy with her, negotiating where we should turn or of it was fading.

 Grateful for puzzle time with the Second born and soccer time with her sister, grateful for my ability to feed my baby and share my milk, most of all grateful for the abundance we love and live in.

Truly, Life is good, ALL The Time.

Sibling jealousy

Who would want to harm this sweet baby?

Well, She would. ---->

I've stepped away briefly to grab clothing or my phone, and she's pushed the limits--especially mine.  Its hard to rein in a mama-bear reaction hearing an infant scream, even if it's focused on another of my own children. 

One morning i caught her BANGING her sister's baby doll on the kitchen table.  She is apparently jealous and expresses herself, "I'm feeling sad/mad about the baby" or "i don't WANT the baby on your lap/nursing!". 

We need to edit in some extra anger outlets it seems (into my subroutines as well?).  She colored an Angry Picture yesterday after the most recent incident. Doesn't help me feel any more confident abut leaving her with him even if he's in the crib, even if its for an instant.  "Ah, mi. Patience!" Cries the mother.

This is just one day, one of many that have passed and that will come.  This particular day we're lucky to survive. On another day all will be most evidently well with all facets, giggles will abound and happiness doesn't disguise itself with challenges. 

Feeling pretty weary at the moment. Breathe,  pray, repeat.

Birth in the Park

At a very large, very crowded urban park recently, pickin' up on the neighboring mommy blanket, I chatted friendly with a couple of other crunchy mamas.  A bit later I was slightly agape watching her 2 year old strip down nude and birth her baby doll.

Yes, read it again.  Mama encouraged her daughter through the doll-birthing process, "that's right, push the baby out" and "you're such a good mommy."

It took me almost a week to process the feelings that came up with this experience.

The first thing that happened, Monk-A-Doodle, my token lovin'-naked-life-child, came to ask "it's okay to be naked outside?" 

Carefully I said, "yes, it is okay to be naked outside. Though, sweetheart," surveying the expanse, "I'm not comfortable as this park is so big, and so busy right now, so just keep your swimsuit on, okay?"  This child is so very tactile in her soothing and cuddling, I also couldn't be sure what she'd do.  

To be socially responsible I've learned to take others' comfort level into account.  (Incidentally if we had and expanse of private land, there'd definitely be some instance of naked baby butts outside.  Butt then there's this option.)  I guess I've become somewhat a prude in my maturing mommy-hood years, or maybe it's because I've little girls and I'm too aware of over-sexualization of young girls in our society.

As for the mock birth the little girl played out, it's probably a realistic throwback to tribal days when all the women and girls were involved on some level to aid a woman giving birth.  It actually caused me to think I might've taken a different tack with F, but the way things occur in this era---I answer the questions that come up in an honest succinct manner, careful not to over-answer (this book is great).  Introducing life experience subject matter like birth and nursing makes sense, even if they mayn't have a conscious memory of the pretending, it would hopefully match their intuitive nature later on, making the whole experience less frightening.  

Maybe that momma was a doula or a midwife and it's part of their daily life experience, it brought up interesting thought process for me.  In a follow-up conversation a dear friend helped with a final aspect I had been struggling with but hadn't been able to put to words.  It was the public nature of the display.  Birth, like death I think, is an intensely private experience.  We invite only trusted people and family into that experience, and typically carefully choose our location for focus and comfort. The very public nature of that particular park, well, it was a shock to my system.

I'm beginning to love all manner of challenging experiences.  Life is good, all the time!

my babies nursing their baby dolls

Sweet grunts and squeaks, a fluffle-snort like a foal, chuffs and complaints, man-burps and butt noises, latch-snmacking while nursing, shrill squ-whistles on the inhale when suffering injustices of baby hood...this boy is noisey.  His voice is beginning to change into a baby cry from the newborn's signature lament, and it sounds a lot like E's tone and timber.  His choking and coughing at my let-down reflex, and his simple existent noisey-ness reminiscent of F.  But he is his own.  I know there are similarities, there should be, they are siblings.  But he is his a new unique instance.  

As a sleepy, sleepy baby, he takes a good long time grunting, stretching, and fluffling before he's fully awake.  Something I've had to ask the girls to "please, oh, please, do NOT disturb your brother until he's really awake!"  He's getting used to the crib by degrees, and I do enjoy a few hours sleeping 'alone'.  Co-sleeping has great advantages regards to bonding and easy access breastfeeding, I attribute his stellar weight gain partly to the co-sleeping.  What Mama would refuse opportunity to gaze at sleeping newborn? cuddled up and cozy? None, I say.  Since I heard a comic quip that babies don't sleep, I'm gaining new meaning for "sleep like a baby." It's that best sleep, the warm, safe, and loved sleep. Sleep that we all cherish and should be more sacred I think.  

A couple of weeks ago in his eyes there was fleeting vague recognition of his existence here, a brief connection when I looked into these deep blues.  Now, such a short time later, he's truly connecting with us.  Giving sweet new smiles by turn, and coo-ing in that magical new baby tone.

He's a standard issue miracle.  I'm so blessed to have three of these, and so, so grateful.

one was already awake

Thunderous Three

She's here, and she's not to be ignored.
Little Miss Contradiction lives here.
Crying 'cause she asked for toast, yet didn't want it toasted.  Wailing after watching beautiful fireworks in entirety, that she didn't like "the sound" and insisting "firewo'cks were oveah der, deez aren't firewo'cks."  Lamentable and tragic that she's hungry but doesn't want to eat it 'cause "mama you CUT IT up wrong!"
Love the baby, hate that he's in mama's lap.
Can't reach tomatoes by herself, and doesn't want help getting them.
Leaving anywhere that was remotely entertaining promotes a barrage of wails & whines....
Ah, yes, I remember this phase of dis-equilibrium.
She's also becoming quite adept at pushing big sister's limits creating conflict and then acting the wounded party.

Toddleator is a big 3 now, she was so excited for her Birthday Brunch restaurant treat, and then upon arrival home there was a gift bag from Ms D.

The Elder of the Two had a great first CARA meet, she cleaned up in fact.  I'm not sure it's exactly fair with her USAG background bringing her into a totally recreational league.  She really enjoyed her success (2nd AA, 1st bar, 1st floor, 6th beam, 3rd vault), and I enjoyed the more relaxed vibe and considerably shortened duration.

I had gorgeous flowers awaiting me both from my parents and my prospective sister-in-law and brother.

little gymnast hornin' in on my pic

And then to top it all off we had gourmet fabulous cupcakes with a bit of ice cream.  A totally successful relaxing weekend.  

blurry, but the only one we're all smiling

My Mother's Day was simple and lovely, some chocolate and strawberries, a picnic and a walk around the park.  Happy Momma.

NOW, let's have a baby!

After a lovely day at the playground, post-bath, post-nap, naked toddler in a towel, The First born looking stonily from her bed:
"Do you want to pick out your clothes?"
"No, I want Mama to pick out my clothes."
"Okay, how about these (pants & tee)?"
"NO! I don' want those!!"
"Okay, what would you like?"
"I want Mama to pick out my clothes."
"All right, E, this is was Mama has picked."
"NOooo!! I don' want those clothes."
"Well then, you pick them out," slowly beginning to see this fruitless conversation headed in a beyond belligerent direction.
"NOoooo! YOU pick them out!"
"I tried E, this is what I pick, you asked Mommy to choose for you, this is what I choose."
"NOOO!!"
"Okay, I love you, I tried to choose for you, now you can do it yourself."
"NOOOOO!!!  MAMA DON' LEAVE!!" as if there are rabid angry wolves in her room....which I have to admit it's a decent comparison as F was already confined to bedroom after losing her mind when I asked if she'd prefer a bath or shower.

I didn't want to leave her to the wolves, but I didn't have much choice. After toying with me that she would get dressed, but indecision won out over the urge to escape the room, her caterwauling got the best of me, I had to leave.
After 30 minutes or so, both of them screaming at me when I offered them an apple (figuring blood sugar  might be the culprit), they both eventually made it out of the room.  E needs a hug, and F is fighting her way through picking up the play room.  The burgers are done, and miracles of miracles we all survived and I'm still here.

I need dark chocolate, or a d*mn beer.

Atomic E

Yesterday, a visit at the coffee shop, then walk a few blocks to the GGB to hang and check out their diaper display.  It was a beautiful day, sunny, not too chilly, almost like spring.

We passed a playground on the way, I promised that we'd stop back by on our way to the vehicle.  Little did I know how looooong those few blocks would be when we exited the Giggling Green Bean.  The temperature had dropped since we'd gone in, and neither of us Mamas was appropriately prepared for the weather change.  We finally reach the mid-point of our trek, the playground, of course E has to visit it, I compromise by offering her 2 activities, she chooses the merry-go-round (fyi, not so merry now that speed governors of sorts have been introduced on them---what's the fun of a merry-go-round unless you can fall off with sick dizziness?) and the slide...and then my fun really begins.

She doesn't want to leave (of course, it's about to be snowing, and we've no coats, hats, mittens, gloves, bibs)...and she begins to wail and lament tragically.  At this point in the pregnancy it's not especially comfortable to carry a 35# toddler more than a block.

"I don' wanna leave!"

"I know, it's sad to leave the playground.  Do you need a hug?"

"NO!" {pause}  "I don' WANNA LEAVE!!"

"I know, I love you, " I keep walking, through the magic of continued motion and the use of "I know" she follows me.

repeat. repeat. repeat.

She stops, she's cold but unable to admit it.

"Do you need to be carried? or will you walk holding hands?" She needs to hold hands, she's tired and lagging behind enough that a hand will move her along, and I'm flingin'-flangin' COLD.  

I resort to "sack-o-potatoes" carry with her for half a block before she decides to walk on her own again.  Then the whole lament repeats, the carry or walk process repeats....the entire time she's wailing, caterwauling, yelling.  I comment aloud, "I'm not sure CPS heard you yet, could you yell louder?"  to which she hollers, "NO!!"

After our trek my friend and I bid a hasty good-bye, and load up our respective cars.

There was a decent enough nap, then a pick up, short down time, then back out to swimming and gymnastics.  As we left Miss Monkey at her 'nastics so I could bed down Monka-Doo, the latter went Atomic again.  This time I was beyond tired, and barely hanging on to sanity.  She became so belligerent as to accuse her shoes of doing wrong, she hates her coat, "it's make me ANGwee!"  I again sling her to the "sack-o-potatoes" carry to move from the rec center to the vehicle.  I'm not sure that the police vehicle sitting out front contained an officer but I'm grateful that if so, he/she must know what it is to be a momma on her last straw.  I'm almost 7 months pregnant, lugging a wailing 2.6 yo child through the parking lot in the snowy dark.

I stood outside my car for a few deep breaths.  I love snow, everything becomes so quiet, so peaceful, so beautiful.

And all the way home she hollered, between bouts of tragic crying, at the back of my head.  "Stop saying 'I know'!"or "Stop saying, 'maybe so'!" and "Weaving make me feewl ANGwee!  YOU STUPID!"  I'm grateful the metal water bottle she chucked my direction only met with the armrest, then only socks actually flew to the front seat.  This continued non-stop until I started reading a bedtime story, and picked right up again when I finished the book.

Always an Adventure. : )  Life really is tough at Two

Little Monkey Money Matters

The little girls receive allowance.  We follow Love & Logic, once they’re old enough not to eat their money, they’re old enough for allowance.  So, the Younger gets $2/week, and the Firstborn gets $6/week, taxes withheld for her, so she nets $5/week.  The Firstborn has been [mostly] saving for a guinea pig going on almost a year now, I've heard her say, "No, I'm saving for a guinea pig, I'm putting my money in the Save Jar."

Toddleator E, a.k.a. Monka-Doodle, had built up quite a bank in her jar, and we’d been chatting about sunglasses for the past couple of months.  She would lament about not having sunglasses every sunny day (which is often here) in the back seat.  One highly productive Monday, while Big Sister attended homeschool connection I found we were timed perfectly to stop by consignment shop for this very purpose.   So, she bought four pair.  At least I was able to talk her out of six pair.  The Man was a bit taken aback by this, and we reminded ourselves that this is her money, not ours.  Well, she’s got 4 new play glasses one of which at least should be kept in the car methinks.  Bonus, when a pair gets crushed or lost, it's easier for me to practice some loving detachment and empathy, rather than reacting with frustration and anger as if it had been my money.

With Miss Monkey’s money, we had a lesson most recently noteworthy.  Had anyone been listening it might’ve sounded as if I was stealing from the child.  One sunny bright day last week, we made plans to head up the mountain for ice skating, little sis was fighting illness though so a ride was arranged.  There was a question as to whether or not F would need to pay entrance + skate rental, I responsibly gave her $10 to pay for just that.  “This ten is to pay for your entrance, should you need it.  Otherwise, I expect my ten dollars back when you return. Agreed?”  She assented, took some money from her Spend Jar for random whatnot, and off they went.

Upon returning, there was some amount of cash and change on the counter, I asked her whether that was hers or mine?  There was some confusion from her.

“Do you have my $10?”

“Well, J used it to buy Twizzlers.”

“Oh, so where is my ten?”

Somewhat distressed, “J used it to buy Twizzlers!”

“Well, F, I gave you the ten to pay for your entrance.  Did you have to pay for your entrance to the skating?”

She shakes her head, no.

“Okay, then I expect my $10 back….is this it on the counter?”

Then the frustration sets in for her.  I counted the money on the counter finding it was a little short of $10, “Well, it looks like you owe another $1.10 to pay me back.”

Then the crying lament starts, she apparently spent all of her money on treats for herself and her friends, and really does not want to pay me back any of the money I gave her.

“Oh, so you spent your money on treats for yourself and your friend?  That’s really generous and friendly. {pause}  The money I gave you for entrance was money only for that, and I expect it returned since it wasn’t used.  I’m fairly certain you and I were clear on this before you left.  I love you, I know this is hard.  Come back downstairs when you’re calm and can discuss it in a friendly way.”

Briefly I thought, it is only a dollar-ish, it’s not that big a deal.  Then my Love & Logic overtook that doubt---it’s not about the quantity, it’s about the lesson there in.  A $1.10 mistake now, will avoid a $110 (or more) mistake later.  The Man returned from some errand, fresh and ready to mediate. And after bedroom time Miss Monkey was freshly ready to attempt to manipulate the situation in her favor with Papa home now.  In no uncertain terms he let her know the tragic sound of her feelings would not change the circumstances.  He reminded her “if she wants to have her own money to use, she has to behave responsibly with it.  Otherwise, we can find other options for that money.”  (Hooray parental unity!)

I did get my money back, thanked her, and we went on about our day.

Stay the course. All is well.  I’m grateful and proud!

: )

A

Smile-faces for papa

Heart melting milestone.

Beans as a learning tool

Happy with beans.  : )

No nap

Lamentable beligerence, that's what happens afternoons when there is no quiet time.  She dozed off a tad when I took a short midday training run, but the transfer to carseat didn't take.  That's cool, I'll just drive her about some, she'll pass out again....nope.

It's both entertaining and infuriating when toddlers get so tired they stop making sense. Hollering about wanting "to put on her shoes self!" or "it's raining, thunder flashlight ouTside!"  Then as she drifts in and out of waking consciousness some snippet about a puppy, the neighbors, spaghetti, or bears, or an argument arises with her reality vs. mine.

And then, ooh yes, then the dreaded dinner hour approaches. When overtired children hover in kitchens whilst dinner is prepped, wailing and gnashing of teeth are common.

But I must remain calm and carry on, this to shall pass, and I will miss the chaos eventually.
: ) <3

Tantrum Style, Toddleator E

She doesn't have many full-on tantrums, and what she has exhibited I think are experiments in copying her elder sister's behavior.  Lucky Toddler gets to see first hand what natural consequences befall the Firstborn with some of her behavior.  My consistency has to be switched on, I think in recent past I've been prey to the "she's just a baby girl" mental track, and I've had to step out of that.  She's not a baby anymore, she's very aware, very intense, very goofy, incredibly sensitive, smart, and verbose.  It's amazing to me that we don't give them more credit as little as they are.  They know exactly what they want and do what they can to get it.  Watching a vid from more than a year ago, I saw The Two sitting opposite each other, The Man mostly addressing Miss Monkey, while Baby E bangs her cup on highchair tray looking expectantly for the attention she knows it will garner.  Toddleator E knows already that she has to go up to her room to tantrum, then sit in recovery.  Most times she'll come out to say, "I done cryeeng, Mama."  Then she tries to take herself out of recovery by sitting a few moments, then "Mama, I done reecov'ree," which sometimes leads into a small power struggle with me because "I say when you're out of recovery, sweetheart, sit back down."
Most times she ends up in bedroom time because she can't communicate fast enough in situations with her sister (yet), and the smaller will simply clobber the bigger.  She's gotten some good shots in on her sister, surprising Miss Monkey a couple of times enough to learn she doesn't want to get into a hitting contest with her.  There are times when I have to sing the "uh-oh" song for them both and they end up in their room hollering together, "I love you both. Work it out, and when you're calm and feeling friendly to each other again, come sit in recovery."
There are only two times I can think of that E has gone Atomic, completely off the edge of reason, and she's been relegated to her bed (or I've wrestled her into the car seat), where she caterwauled seemingly without end until sleep overcame her (must be genetic).  Most other times it's a power struggle between what she wants to do and what I need her aimed toward, i.e. homeward bound pre-dinner on the tricycle.  She's doing well on her tricycle, and last evening she doesn't want to go home.  There's a choice, you can ride your trike home or I can carry you.  Pause. "Uh-oh,  so sad, mommy has to carry you" (and the trike, grateful I've the strength).  I hike the caterwauling, whining sack of potatoes on one side, and the tricycle on t'other side the short distance home, where eventually she calms enough and moves on to something else while I get dinner situated.
So it goes!
Blessed are we.
:  )  <3

Home, home, in the rain

I love my creative girls!

2 on a Tricycle!

Oh HAPPY DAY (yesterday)!  Toddleator E was born....and now she's big enough for a trike, she uses the potty very consistently, she's verbose and silly and cuddley, always ready to try something that looks like fun (especially if Sissy has done it).  At the Downtown Aquarium she jumped up and down and squealed through the exhibits pointing out all the "BIG FISH!"

We are so blessed, and we are so very very grateful!

Training Pants & Wheels

We're there, really watching these little people get big.  If Toddleator E is my last baby, I'll have to sit with a mourning of sorts, for now we are content and joyful, and so very grateful.  If god-the universe sees fit to send us another blessing, we will accept with open hearts & arms.

Miss Monkey has decided that the training wheels are not going back on her bike.  From what I've seen I think she's better off just figuring out 2 wheels on her own.  I tend to get somewhat short tempered with her, I don't remember riding a bike being that difficult.  But I think I learned to ride a horse before a bike--maybe that made it easier.  I don't recall my mom running behind me on the bike, maybe someone else did?  Either way it's challenging to teach my daughter without resorting to the yelling and barking orders that I was trained with.  Jeaz, Ada, of course she's having a hard time, it's a totally new experience for her.  At the very least I've the awareness that I should step away rather than make biking a nightmare for her.  I stood back the other day, arms folded simply cheering her on and giving words of encouragement.  It's thrilling to watch her progress.  

Toddleator E had a perfect record for potty learning yesterday.  While I know there will be occasional accidents, it's been terribly easy.  A few days ago, in Target, it occurred to me to simply pick up a package of underpants for her.  She was totally enthused when trying them on later, the look on her face was a curious freedom added to a full body wiggle. After a couple of days mostly home, E has made the complete connection.  Incredibly easy, and definitely due in part to The Firstborn's support and example.