Of Southern Drawls and Garage Sales

It seems that someone has been subtly influencing my two-and-a-half year old. Or perhaps someone has cloned him and replaced the original child with an identical duplicate.

A child with a Southern accent.

Very recently we started to notice some interesting verbal trends. He is dropping his r's and adding unnecessary syllables to certain words. For example, over there has become "ova they-uh." Snack is now "snay-uck." And bath is either "bay-uff," or a whopping "bay-ay-uff," if we're lucky enough to hear it.



If you are reading this and happen to live somewhere below the Mason-Dixon line and see my sweet boy wandering the streets, would you send him back to us?

But if not, this one is pretty cute and I suppose we'll keep him.

On another note, we are entering garage sale season, and I could not be more thrilled. I love the hunt and the bartering and the victory of finding a great deal.

But this year I'm switching things up and I'm going to be the seller. Since my children have entered a lovely phase of sibling squabbles, I've decided to sell everything they have. They fight over the same object so many times throughout the day that I lose track. And nearly lose my mind.

Sometimes it's a bouncy ball. Other times it's a book. Or a toy car. Or a pencil. Or a-- you get the point.

So I've decided to sell the playroom. All of it. Okay, I might keep the carpet and light fixtures, but everything else must go.

Except for one toy.

I haven't decided which one yet, but since they always want the very same thing at the very same time, what's the point in keeping all the rest of it? It's just more for me to have to dust.

Think it will work? No, I don't either.

*sigh*

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some dusting to do and a silly little boy who needs a bay-uff.

Late night delusions

It goes without saying that I've been up a lot during the night lately. Having a new baby in the house means lots of wakefulness at odd hours.

The other night while I was up cuddling with my new little bundle of joy, with my hubby softly snoring beside me, I heard what I believed to be illegal activity going on in our neighborhood. I snapped quickly from my drowsy state into wide-eyed alertness, wondering if I should be calling the police to report these shenanigans.

In my sleep-deprived state, it sounded distinctly like there were drag races going on outside on our street. I was sure of it.

I listened for a bit, not knowing exactly what to do. But my sleep-deprived body took over, and the next thing I knew I was waking up to silence. I knew I had to tell my husband in the morning, and he would help me decide what to do if it happened again.

A few nights later, my sweet hubby was up, changing a diaper, and he heard it, too. He went to investigate (by looking out a window, go figure) to find the culprit:


Yes, our milk delivery truck sounds like a hot rod.

And apparently they deliver our milk at 2:00 a.m. Ugh.

Easter, yes. Happy? You decide.

If you've been following my blog for a while you may recall the fiasco of last year's Easter photos. Or, rather, our lame attempt at taking them. This year wasn't much different. But we added a new member to the cast of characters. Needless to say, he got to sleep through the whole thing.

Lucy pasted on her fake smile for the camera. And as much as she wanted to "hold" Adam, she was very much hands-off. It was a little precarious in the rocking chair.

Josiah simply would not smile unless John tickled him. But then there's the issue of the thumb. He is the image of pure misery here.

And sweet little Adam. Still so clueless. Give him a year and I'm sure he'll join in the miserable practice in our home known as holiday photo taking. I can almost hear the crying now...

Ahhh, my three sweet cheribs. Love 'em!

It's A Boy!

Shortly after midnight on Monday, March 15th, we welcomed our sweet son Adam into our family.

My heart is so full...

Grace: Undeserved Root Beer Floats

Last night's dinner was a low point in the day for me. Admittedly, my patience is at an all-time low, being more than eight-and-a-half months pregnant, and John had an event for work that kept him from joining us at home for our meal. I thought I'd try to keep the kids happy by feeding them a hodge-podge of random food I knew they would eat, and that would somewhat resemble a balanced meal to my conscience.

But it didn't seem to matter what I put in front of them. They were unhappy with it.

My charming son, who only touches macaroni and cheese one out of every ten times I offer it, was screaming for it just after his sister ate the last bite. My darling daughter, who asks for butter on every slice of bread ever put before her (thanks to Daddy), asked through tears why I buttered her bread when she really wanted it plain. And it spiraled downhill from there.

Let's just say that we used more tissues to wipe tears than we used napkins to wipe our hands. All three of us.

(I certainly won't win Mother of the Year award for admitting this, but I'm pretty sure there were a couple times, as we sat at the table together, when I plugged my ears to block out the crying-in-stereo.)

Somehow we managed to pull through. On my part, it included lots of counting to ten, deep breaths, and like I already mentioned, ear-plugging. But in the end, we ate. Something. Apparently it wasn't enjoyable, but we filled our bellies.

And at the end of it all, I was craving a root beer float.

I had a dilemma on my hands. In our house, you don't get dessert unless you finish your meal. Sometimes this involves some compromise, but behavior is also taken into consideration in this equation.

Clearly, neither of my children should have gotten dessert last night.

But mommy had a craving. And I caved.

I got out two miniature glasses, one large glass, vanilla ice cream, straws, and a bottle of IBC root beer.

As my children blew their noses and stared at me in disbelief, I proceeded to tell them about grace. God loves us far more than we deserve to be loved. We don't deserve anything good from Him, but because He loves us so much, he gave us Jesus and He gave us forgiveness. Just like this dinner, we didn't deserve a special treat at the end (none of us, honestly), but because Mommy loves her children so much, we were having root beer floats. Undeserved root beer floats.

Honestly, I have no idea if any of that sunk in, but I enjoyed introducing my kids to something I remember as a favorite treat from my childhood, and doing my best to turn it into a life lesson of some sort. Maybe the next time they have a root beer float, perhaps they will have a vague recollection of God's love for them--His sweet, amazing, overflowing, undeserved love for us.

Ready... Set...

...WAIT!

The car seat is in the van.
Our bag is packed.
The hospital has been toured and the trip timed (40 minutes -- yikes!).
The camera is charged and ready.
The guest room is (finally!) all put together.
Tiny neutral baby clothes are washed in Dreft and neatly folded in the nursery.
Tiny pink and blue baby clothes are sorted into two piles and ready to be washed.
Big brother is (finally!) napping in his own bed instead of the crib.
The closet is abundantly stocked with diapers and wipes, soaps and lotions, burp cloths and wash cloths. (Thanks to my fabulous friends!)
The bassinet is our the bedroom.
Braxton Hicks are growing stronger.
Nights are growing more uncomfortable.
We are all growing more eager to meet baby.

And now?
We WAIT.

Oh, but in the meantime, I get to pass the time with what I do believe has to be my very favorite 'baby gift.' From my hubby:

Oh yes, he did. (And to those who know my hubby, you will not find it surprising in the least that he got a screamin' deal on it. Otherwise it simply would not be sitting on my kitchen counter.)

Nesting, Part 4: I... Have Made Booties!

You've seen it, haven't you? Tom Hanks, a Castaway on a deserted island, makes fire and announces it to the night air with great pride. (If you're not familiar with the scene, you absolutely must click here to see the 11-second clip on YouTube.)

So I had a Tom Hanks moment this week. I know how he feels!

Okay, not literally. But you get the idea.

I've been knitting for a couple of months, and the most I've been brave enough to do are things that are relatively small and flat. Like scarves. Lots of scarves. And one headband.

But my friend Meg encouraged me to give this a try, and if she she could make a pair while caring for two-year-old twins and a new baby, then surely I could do it, too. After watching a few more clips on the internet to learn two new variations of knitting stitches, I gave it a go. And I did it!

I...HAVE MADE BOOTIES!

See that picture up there? I made those. Oh, yes I did!

I have no idea if they will actually fit baby's feet or not, but I will at least love how they look on the shelf in the nursery. And I love having done something special for baby as we await his or her arrival.

I also have more confidence to attempt to follow other knitting patterns that previously intimidated me. Thanks, Meg!

NOTE: No, I am not taking orders. These took me the better part of two weeks worth of evening free time, lots of concentration, and the sacrifice of not having feeling in my hands because knitting is accentuating my pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome. But they were so worth it for my baby. Or perhaps if the price is right. If you have, say, $100 or so to throw my way.

Nesting, Part 3: The Kids' Rooms

It's been a time of transition in our home. And it continues to be. But we are so blessed to have the space to take our time in this phase of moving the kids into their new rooms, leaving the nursery just as it is for baby's arrival.

Pardon me while I freak out for just a brief moment at the nearness of this blessed event.

[Insert dramatic pause]

Okay, phew! Back to nesting!

For me it's been a super fun process. For John, who likes to paint about as much as he enjoys a good charlie horse, it's been a bit more of a chore, but he's tackled my to-do list with ambition and joy, and without making me nag him. Too much. The last few weeks have been loaded with patching old holes, taping, painting, pulling tape, touching up paint, making new holes, and moving furniture.

After a few tears were shed over the idea of leaving her beloved bedroom, we helped Lucy move into her new room (which was previously our guest room, which is now in the basement, which will be covered by another post at another time).

She liked the idea, and she loved the purple accent wall, but I know what sealed the deal and finally made her jump up and down, declaring one day she just couldn't stand it if she didn't move into her new room TONIGHT, was the canopy.
I'm so grateful I had the forethought over a year ago to make her valance extra long, just in case she ended up in this room. Big sigh of relief that it does indeed fit on her new window.
Once she was in her new room, it was time to paint the pink room blue and get it ready for Josiah. John did an amazing job executing these stripes, which I had previously only seen in my head, and I'm very happy with how they turned out and complement the safari theme.
Joey's a roller, so we are starting him out with a mattress on the floor. So far he has not actually slept on this mattress, but like I said, this is a time of transition.

And we love, love, love the trio of one-of-a-kind paintings that Auntie Anna made and gave him for Christmas to match the bedding. I won't even attempt to describe how she used things like butter knives and pen caps to achieve the textures and images. She's amazing!
A few shelves for his special things make the room feel like it's really his now. (Can I tell you how much John loved drilling the holes in his pristine blue wall to hang these shelves? He's a gem.)
Ahhh! One more thing checked off my ever-growing nesting list!

Bribery

Some parents say bribery is the worst thing you can do for your child, especially when it comes to something they are expected to do. They say that it ruins their work ethic, or teaches them to expect rewards instead of responsibility.

I say PISH POSH! It works for me!

We've been trying to convince and coerce Lucy into giving up sucking her thumb for several years now. She had a brief breakthrough at the dentist when she was four, but then went back to the comfortable old habit shortly thereafter. We've had arguments and discussions and tears as we try to help her give up the habit.

It started last week with a thumb that was red and sore and literally cracking from dryness. Then it took a "magic bandaid" and a word from a friend (thanks, Christy!) to get her started. Then it took several nights of tears and reapplying bandaids and convincing her that it was necessary to save her thumb from being damaged forever. And then it turned into "You've already gone X days without it, so if you... then we will..." And now, Lucy has been thumb-free 24/7 for TEN WHOLE DAYS!

We realized this week that all the promises we made would have to be upheld, so we started following through with our bribes.

First, she got a dollar from daddy for making it the first whole week. Second, she has been allowed to chew gum for the first time, which she remembered as part of The Bribe from a year and a half ago. And third, today she got to pick out her own fingernail polish and had her nails painted for the first time ever.

I think she is proud of her accomplishment, and we haven't had any tears over her thumb since those first two nights. I think she also sees that the benefits of giving it up (a.k.a. the bribes) are greater than the need for sucking it. A three-fold bribe for years of effort and anguish. Totally worth it!

Nesting, Part 2: The Front Room

I'll give you three guesses as to what the above picture is. If you happen to say, "Well, of course, that's your china cabinet," then you would be right! At least it was. Until some serious nesting kicked in and some serious laziness got kicked out.

I'd been letting Lucy use the hutch of our china cabinet to collect her random crafts and coloring projects. It was out of the way and mostly out of sight. They seemed to be fulfilling the biblical command to multiply, yet any suggestion of throwing out or paring down was met with tears and protest.

But it had to go. Gradually. Each day while Lucy was in school, for about a week, I carefully selected certain pieces to keep and others to toss.

It inspired me to change everything in our front room. It used to be that you'd walk in our front door and be greeted by a plethora of toys and toy bins. The half of the room that is 'officially' a formal dining room was being unused because we only have one table. Unused, that is, except for the china cabinet. I believe you've met.

A few weeks later, and some stellar help from my oh-so-willing hubby, and we've got a room that has purpose, function, and is far more pleasing to the eye.

And look! My china cabinet is visible and is being used to display the things I want it to. That corner cabinet holds most of Lucy's craft supplies and projects, plus games and puzzles, and we brought up our previously unused table from the basement for her to spread out on.

And please notice my window mistreatments. Thanks to The Nester for permission to cheaply and imperfectly tack up some fabric to soften the room a bit without breaking the bank.

There's a fine line between the painting and piano and the toy bins and cabinets, but hey, that's life for us right now.

Don't you love my pretty green wall? 'Prairie Grass' also adorns the walls in our powder room, so I didn't have to spend a dime on this project. (Bonus: it perfectly complements the decades-old forest painting hanging above the piano and the fake tulips I used to stage our condo.) I love to paint, but John wouldn't let me paint while pregnant, so I did all the taping and prepping, and he got to do the fun part. This is where the china cabinet used to be, and now the toys are out of sight from the front door. Photos of family and friends remind the kids of who loves them as they play, as they sit on shelves that used to be in our condo living room. Joey loves to play closer to the kitchen, and I love that the only cash I spent on this whole project was for the yard of sheer fabric that I split between two windows and the irresistible big brassy B on the photo shelf. I heart Hobby Lobby's 50% off sales!

So as my nesting continues, it's great to feel like this room, which has bothered me for the year and a half that we have lived here, is finally how I want it to be... for now.