Feathers+Dry Erase Marker = X

Things change on a dime around here. We woke to a day with no big plans. Quiet day at home with nothing much to do (except 4 loads of laundry of course). Feeling ambitious, I asked Number 1 and Number 2 to strip their beds so I could wash their sheets (make that 6 loads).

"MOM!!!, there's a problem." It's never a good sign when they confess without coercion. "There's a lot of feathers?!?!?!? A whole lot."

Apparently, Number 2's pillow had a hole in it and 95% of the upstairs was now covered in feathers. The unrepentant capitalist, Number 2 said he would vacuum it all up for $5. DONE DEAL.

I had barely gotten the vacuum cleaner put away and sat down to do some important work on the computer (Facebook and email are important to me.) when I realized Numbers 3 and 4 seemed to be playing way too well together. This was obvious due to the complete silence coming from the other room. Somehow a dry erase marker had found its was into the chalk box. The playroom wall now has a new art piece and the baby has some fresh ink.

"What did you do?!?!", I asked Number 3 in my best banshee voice.

"He didn't do anything, Mama. I did it.", he confessed proudly.

All by 10AM.

* A friend who called right after the feather incident said with complete sincerity, "At least it wasn't feathers AND vaseline. That happened here once."

Another day, another story,
Em

Congratulations are in order

This one is for mainbain.

He finally, after countless requests of "Dad can you pull my tooth?" follwed minutes later by his "I just can't get it" successfully pulled mexicanjumpingbain's 3rd tooth last Wednesday.

Way to go! Love your perseverance!

Lib

Recent highlights

We left the farm and went to the big city this weekend! Had a great time doing some different things - like getting lost in a parking lot (!) and reconnecting with cousins.

We were playing a game in the car following mexicanjumpingbain's instructions and only saying words that started with the letter e: egg, every, and then I said essential. His response: "Mom, I don't think that's a word!" Nothing I could do but laugh and move on....

Later, at a chinese restaurant reading our zodiac signs out loud. Limabain reads how he is caring, artistic, and funny and then gets to the punch line: you will marry a rabbit or sheep. I SO wish I had a picture of the face he made when that reality sunk in. I could see the cogs in his brain start clicking and going backwards and steaming with this new information - I didn't know people married animals!!! He was totally relieved once I stopped laughing and explained it to him.

I had to post the pic below of the the baintrain with their cousins, V and D. When I was growing up there was nothing I loved more in the whole world than going to my grandparent's house in the fire hydrant capital of the world: Albertville, AL. My cousins S and C lived there and the games we played and fun we had are many of my happiest and most carefree childhood memories. Playing hide-and-go seek for hours, walking to the candy store, learning to squish lightning bugs(totally gross, but turned out to be prep for being a mother of 4 boys). I am so thankful our children are having the opportunity to experience the same thing!

Lib

PS - We had a little "bloggers-unite" conference of our own this weekend and finally got a pic of lib and em together!

tiny Miracle

But a miracle just the same. An occurance so rare that many among us have never, dare I say will never, witness such a thing as this...Three out of our 4 children put themselves to bed without us even knowing. I would post a photo as proof, but would not dare risk rousing Numbers 1-3 from angelic slumber (Number 1 and 3 in the same bed/ALL in the same room). Hallelujah and Amen!

Another day, another story,
Em

Baby Book

If I don't put Number 4's 18 month vocabulary list on here, I am certain there will be no record of it. And with his New Balance tennis shoes, big boy haircut and mouthful of teeth, he will be going to the 9th grade dance before I can catch my breath. So here goes:

Mommy

Daddy

E-i = big brother Eli

Bus

Hot

PiePie = pacifier

Car

Uh-Oh

Gigi

Eeed = big brother Reed

Cookie

Tank Too = thank you

Hi

Bye Bye

Shoes

Poopoo (of course)

Ahside = outside

Ball

Ooo Dat? = who's that?

Ahh Dat? = what's that?

Up

Pizza

Baby

Pup Pup = puppy

Si Si = horsie

It goes without saying, but I'll say it - genius!

Another day, another story,

Em

Number 3 and Me

Three year olds are a strange breed. Even stranger when they have no idea that they are 3, and believe that they are in fact, at least 7. Number 3 happens to be 3 at the moment and it makes for some very interesting times.

Like when he doesn't want to use the women's restroom while out with just me. When he wants to stay up late playing Star Wars with Number 1 and Number 2. When he uses words like "outrageous" (correctly) and phrases like "good times, good times" or "my bad". Or practicing shock-and-awe with, "I hate fill-in-the-blank " with anything that he does or doesn't like at that minute in time. I find it is best to pretend to be deaf, and he moves on to something else.

He can be the sweetest, lovingest boy or equally sassy and defiant. He definitely has personality! We survived the Tumultuous Threes of the first two boys, so we know this phase, like all of them, is temporary. But this time around, he has BOTH of them to learn from. Oh yeah, and we still have to make it through Number 4's turn, with THREE big brothers to contribute material.

Another day, another story,
Em

Confession time

I'm not catholic, but if I was I would start this with "Bless me reader for I have sinned..."

Every day is not a good day. After 11+ years in a house of boys I know and understand this. I still don't like it though. Yesterday started just fine, but deteriorated with super sonic speed trying to get them ready to leave/eat some soup/shoes on their feet and basketball uniform together in a 30 minute time span right after work. Of course Mexicanjumpingbain wanted to wear his new soccer cleats, normally not a problem, but I erupted with "LET ME KNOW SOONER WHEN THE SHOES YOU WANT TO WEAR TAKE 10 MINUTES TO PUT ON!" Ugghh, it looks even worse in black and white.

I pulled it together for the drive to town (thank you xmkids), and for the shopping excursion, but after we got home the composure flew right out the window and the yelling about picking up shoes and getting ready for bed began all over again.

I hate it when I yell.
I will do better. I will try harder. I will not raise my voice, at least I can commit to that today.
I will not let the small stuff bother me. I will remember their emotional health is more important than being on time or having a perfectly clean house.

Absolution, please?

Lib

Dateline: Texarkana

Surprisingly, this story is not about why we-myself, along with St. Joel and the youngest 50% of our boys- are staying overnight in Texarkana on this Sunday night in February.

It is about stopping at an Outback Steakhouse for a nice dinner before checking into our hotel. Which is exactly what we were doing up until the moment the waiter brought our food. One second, we were chatting about the trip, enjoying the ease of dealing with just 2 out of the 4 at a restaurant. The next second, Number 3 took one glance at my grilled shrimp, made the all-too-familiar gag face, and well...I grabbed all the napkins I could and tried my best to minimize the damage.

As we've done seamlessly so many times before (see earlier post "Spanish for Throw Up"), I took the gagger out (this time sans shirt) while Joel asked the stunned, probably childless waiter, for to-go boxes.

We'll go home with one less outfit than we packed and two very important lessons: be careful what you order if you're sitting next to Number 3 and absolutely no Doritos on car trips.

Another day, another story,
Em

Must.have.help.

Here's an opportunity to vote on my child raising decisions. If you care to.....

Limabain protests getting his hair cut...and as this picture shows, he's LONG overdue. Okay, that's just my opinion (and an obvious understatement), but look at that mushroom - I really think it's gotta go. I am not against boys having long hair, just as long as it's styled properly. This obviously doesn't make the cut, but any suggestions on HOW to convince him would be appreciated. Other than the "because I'm your mother deal..." I use that too much!

Lib