Monday, November 26, 2012

Us

I often look at my children and wonder, "Where the heck did that come from?"



Oh yeah, I get it now.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Eighteen(ish) Things I Love About You


I love the way you always happy shriek every time you step outside, even when you were only inside for 30 seconds.

I love the way you follow bugs and insects around with an endless string of "Hi! Hi! Hi!"


I love how much you love animals, and the happy noise you make every time you see one.

I love that it happens even when it's just a picture of an animal on the cover of a book. I love how you hug and nuzzle said book because your emotions overflowth.

I love the way you park yourself in front of the bookshelves, clearing them ever so slowly as you thoughtfully study each page.


I love how you say "Awww" when you hug.

I love your love of music. I love how your whole first year you never just babbled, but always sang your babble to your own original tune. I love the way you sing along to the radio now. (Your current favorite: Some Nights by Fun.) I love that you simply cannot keep your mittens off your dad's guitar. I love the obvious thrill you get when you help him play it.

I love how your babbling includes and abundance of trilling and rolling r's, especially when you are deliriously happy. (Btw, wtf super white boy?)

I love your amazingly stinky feet, that look exactly (but smell nothing) like your dad's.

I love your often impossible to tame thick blond fro. And your curls. I want to eat your curls.


I love that your favorite toys are play silverware, dishes, and fake food. I love the way you spend countless hours setting the table and playing kitchen. I love the fact that you totally do not remotely understand the fascination other boys have for all things vehicle.

I love the way you rescue unappreciated treasures from the recycling and turn them into toys.

I love that you think that spaghetti noodles are far superior to any other noodle shape.

I love the way you try so hard to be patient and control yourself when you know dinner is cooking but omg you wanted it like 5 minutes ago.

I love the way you ask for seconds (and thirds, and so on) by presenting us with an empty plate, a hopeful expression, and "Eh?"

I love how you clear your dishes from table without ever being asked, even though your brother and sister frequently forget. I love the way you patiently try over and over on tippy toes to get your plate/bowl/cup up to the counter above the dishwasher until someone finally comes along and helps you. I love how you are happy to keep trying even when it takes us a really long time to get there.


I love the fact that you have a full catalog of iPad moves you try to use on the tv screen, even though kids aren't really allowed on the iPad and neither of your parents have a smart phone. (Again, wtf?)

I love remembering how when you were just a few weeks old you figured out how to get onto your side by lifting your legs straight up into the air and locking your knees, folding yourself into a perfect litle right angle, and then letting gravity take you down. I love how we knew if you did that right away you weren't going to fight sleep. I love how you continued to do it when we put you down to sleep even after you had mastered rolling and crawling and way fancier moves.

I love that when I ask if you are ready for milk you always giggle and take off running for your room, slaming full speed into our nursing chair, even though milk is always followed by a nap or going to bed for the night.


I love the way you love your blankies.

I love the way you love your blankies even more now that they are starting to get holes because you now have a place to hook your finger.

I love the way you walk around with a blankie hanging out of your mouth.

I love the way we can tell how tired you are by the speed and quantity of blankie you shove in your mouth.


I even love the way you always pick less than perfect moments to go on a kissing rampage, like red sauce for dinner vs. white fabric couch I've just bleached. I hope you know no one else can get away with that. (And what is it about the couch that makes it so damn kissable?)

I love that on Halloween you kept stealing boxes of Nerds from the candy bowl because they made most excellent maracas.


I love your super unwavering friendliness that makes us feel the need to apologize to strangers all the time. (But seriously, please stop asking people we don't know to pick you up.)

I love the fact that you have never been startled, frightened, or overwhelmed by loud noises. (We've had your hearing checked. Multiple times.) You are so brave and used to the chaos that is being the youngest of three.

Or crowds, even rowdy, uncontrollable ones.

I love that when I tell you "Too far" you always make an immediate u-turn and come running back.


And last but certainly not least, I love the way you stop whatever you're doing and run to comfort your sister when she is crying. I love the fact that you accidentally tackle her as you wrap huggy little arms around her neck. I love the way you come back up to check her face, and then lay your cheek down on her shoulder, and toggle face-shoulder-face-shoulder until she is better.

Happy Eighteen Months! Don't change.

Monday, November 12, 2012

At least it appears she's given up on my debit card. For now.

Tap tap tap tap! Tap tap tap tap! Tap tap tap tap!

Grandpa: What are you doing with your mom's iPad? Are you supposed to have that?
Olive: It's okay, I'm just trying to figure out her password.
Grandpa: Give me that!
Olive: No thank you, I can do it by myself.

Friday, November 09, 2012

My Very Own Four Year Old Art Critic

I am drawing a rainbow with all 3 available colors of sidewalk chalk: red, yellow, and green. I am Blend Master.
"Um, Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"You forgot indigo and violet."