Accidently

Everything for Olivia lately has been "accidently" ... she "accidently" got sand in her brother's hair, and she "accidently" kicked her sister, and she "accidently" forgot to obey me.

So when she came in and told me that she "accidently" forgot to feed her roly bug pet and it died, I said, "Olivia, you don't have to say 'accidently' about everything ... you can just say, 'I forgot to feed my roly bug and it died.'" She looks me seriously in the eye and says, "Mom. [insert big sigh here] Everything IS an accident."

Poem by Eliana Wages

Olivia

bosy, cut

mean, funny, anouing

happy, mad, crasy, wird

Nina

The 10 Best Things About My Mom by Eliana Wages

1. My mom helps me when I am sad. And she helps me clean my room.
2. My mom makes me food when I am hungry. And takes care of me.
3. My mom helps if I frgot how to spell someting. or if figot to do someting she wood tell me what I was suposd to do.
4. My mom snugls with me when I'm sad it makes me happy.
5. My mom is allways there when I need help or I am hirt like bleeding!
6. And she dosen't wake me up on the weekends sents I allways like to sleep in!
7. My mom lets me have a popsicle every day after lunch!
8. I like to be nice to my brother and sister that allways makes her happy.
9. And she tells my brother not to hit me but he never obeys!
10. And last of all shes my very very one and only mommy!

God is so NICE!

It's really funny how kids are different. Eliana is so literal, she wants to understand the how and why of everything. Olivia, on the other hand, is very relational. Everything relates to people and relationships between them. I know that both my children are wired this way, but sometimes their differences just strike my funny bone.

Olivia has an "owie" that she can't leave alone. We've been discussing why it's important NOT to pick scabs, but Olivia keeps picking this particular scab until it bleeds and then freaking out all over the place because it's bleeding AGAIN. We're on our way to pick up Eliana, and Olivia says, "Wow. God is so nice!! My body made it's own band-aid again. That's the way we're created, Mommy!" Her comment just tickled me! Juxtaposed against some of Eliana's observations about human bodies ... her diagram of Malachi in utero with the umbelical cord, discussing how antibiotics work, etc ... vs. "Wow. God is so nice!" I just had to laugh.

Argh!!

We were going to walk to MES and pick up Eliana today. As we were getting ready, Olivia announces she's going to ride her bike. So I get out the bike, the scooter for Eliana, buckle Corbin in the bike trailer, and off we go. FIFTEEN MINUTES and a HALF OF A BLOCK later, Olivia decides she can't ride her bike after all. At this point, we've run out of time, and have to drive. I was so angry.

BTW, my belly gets in the way of pedaling.

Whew.

I scored myself a few minutes of breathing room today. I'd been trying to get Corbin to play out back all morning. I was cleaning, and he was getting into stuff. But no. He wanted to read, do puzzles, and play Hungry Hungry Hippo. After we picked up Olivia from school, I made lunch, unloaded the dishwasher, switched the laundry, yadda yadda yadda. I looked out the window and commented, "Oh look, Olivia's jumping on the trampoline." And ZOOM ... he was gone. hmmm. Shoulda figured that one out earlier.

In other breathing news, I can't. Malachi has completely maxed out the space in my enlarging abdomen and is in desperate need of some more real estate. Since I can barely fit in most of my pants as-is, and I have 7 weeks and 3 days till d-day, this worries my slightly.

Well, I'm off again. Time to pick up child number one from school. I promised we could walk/ride bikes today and spend some time playing on the playground. Should be fun!

Malachi

Corbin has been feeling a little bit under the weather. Since he doesn't seem all-out sick, the end result is that he follows me around all day. Including to the bathroom. I'm constantly answering his question, "What you doing, Mommy?" After the second or third time he followed me to the bathroom and me telling him I had to pee, he says, "You already pee, Mommy." I replied, "Yes, but Malachi's pushing on my bladder, so I have to pee a lot." He thinks about this for a moment, seems satisfied, and that's the end of that. About an hour later he hollers at me from the other room, "Mommy! Mal-chi sitting on your bladder 'gain?!" I chuckled at his observation of my frequent potty trips. Awhile later he says, "Mommy, MY Mal-chi sitting on my bladder in my tummy. I have pee too!!" Apparently if he has to pee, now it's Malachi's fault, too!

Funny Stuff

This evening, I was making cupcakes for Olivia's class tomorrow. Olivia saw a picture of Red Velvet cupcakes on my favorite food blog and decided she HAD to have red cupcakes with Tinkerbell green frosting. They should be interesting. Anyways, I was in the middle of making frosting and had gotten the box of food coloring out when I was interrupted for bedtime stuff. While I was distracted away from the cooking, Eliana decided to taste food coloring and see what it would taste like. We're all sitting together to pray before bed, and Eliana is drooling red drool. And her lips are red. And her gums are red. And her teeth are red. When she finally admitted why she was drooling and dyed red (apparently food coloring tastes awful) I could hardly contain my glee. I could not have arranged a more perfect love and logic moment. She had a horrible punishment and I had to do NOTHING. I did make her brush her teeth until they were no longer pink ... which took about four rounds of serious brushing ... but she went to bed still complaining about the yucky taste in her mouth. It makes me shudder every time I think about how awful that must have tasted when she was expecting something yummy!! I love natural consequences.

After Steven got the kids down, Olivia asked him to come give her one more kiss. As he leaned his head close to her, she whispers in her most dramatic five-year-old whisper, "Never forget Daddy, the Lord is always with you!"

Computer Rant

I hate my computer.

Actually, I love my computer, which is part of the problem. Macs are supposed to be hardier than most computers and not EVER have issues. Especially mysterious ones that no one seems to be able to diagnose. 

Today I found places for all the kids and scheduled an appointment with a macologist at the mac store. This very intelligent, helpful, cute, and VERY young gentleman helped me out, gave me what seemed to be excellent advice and sent me home. I got home, spent a couple hours dealing with backing up my entire computer on my recently-purchased external drive, and proceeded to attempt a disk repair. It didn't work right. So, after a seemingly helpful call the mac store, I tried another attempt. My blasted computer froze. And after yet another call to the mac store, they said I'll need to bring it in. 

So now I have to schedule another appointment at the mac store and try again. I don't know what's worse, the fact that I'll probably have to pay the $90/hour rate, or that I have to find childcare and drag my computer and 7-month pregnant belly through the mall.

Ugh.

The Sick Month

It seems that every year, between the beginning of January and the ending of March, we have a sick month. All the colds and flu bugs that are floating around wipe viciously and rampantly through our family. First Corbin, then Steven, then me, then Corbin, then Eliana, then me again, then Corbin, then Eliana, then me. And you did read that correctly ... Olivia has NOT gotten sick at all during this month of mayhem. (knock on wood) Just when I think we're coming out of it, bam! Someone else gets sick. And I run myself ragged trying to keep things together, and I get sick over and over. Most of the time, I'm well enough that I can't completely collapse. So I function while I'm feeling awful week after week after week. I think Corbin gets it so often because he isn't at school yet and not built up all those antibodies. But his sisters bring home the germs. Eliana seems to recover quickly when she gets it. My only guess with Olivia is that maybe 'cause they're so strict about washing hands and using hand sanitizer at her preschool that she's safe ... 

So now we're dragging towards the end of the month, and I'm drained. I'm so burnt out that I'm ready to scream. I had a wonderful date with my husband this past Sunday (we went to a great garden store together), and I thought I would recover nicely from the bout of sickness. I was hopeful and excited to put myself and our house back together. But that night, Eliana started barfing, and then Corbin joined her the next morning. And when I was ready to send Eliana back to school, she barfed again. Now my throat feels like someone scraped it down. I napped on the couch this afternoon (not very restfully, since I was refereeing every five minutes), and I sent the kids outside to play in the beautiful sunshine. (Eliana seems completely healthy, despite her barfing last night) I'm so so so done with this. 

Please, can I have my life back?

What happens when Mommy is sick?

My incredibly sweet husband took an extra sick day for me this week when I woke up yesterday morning so sick I couldn't function. I slept basically from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., and went back to bed at 7 p.m. (and I spent most of the hours in between laying down). But somehow, life doesn't seem to stop for Mommy.

I was woken up every hour or so by Corbin "checking on me" ... he would come in, get really close to my face, and say, "Hi, Mommy!! Hi, Mommy!! Hi, Mommy!!" until I responded, then ask if I was sick, and then leave. 

Twice, Corbin came in to ask me to take him potty, even though Steven was completely capable (and already in the room with Corbin before he sought me out).

Olivia came in twice to ask for a drink of my water or to tell me she was hungry. 

Steven woke me up once to tell me he made me banana muffins (which were delicious). I got up long enough to eat one before I collapsed again. 

Our dinner was pizza. Lunch was mac & cheese. He took the kids to ice cream for a snack.

And I got up this morning, still feeling icky but at least functioning, (Steven went back to work) to the kitchen looking like a tornado hit it ... the pizza box still out, the empty milk carton in the sink, and dirty dishes everywhere. 

To Steven's credit, he was feeling icky still himself. 

I hope I never get sick again.

Fancy

Yesterday I had to take Olivia to the doctor, and so I found places for the other two kids to stay while Grandma, Aunti Jenn, Olivia, and I went into Salem. We went to the Keith Brown closeout, (where I got great new kitchen hardware ... watch for photos coming soon), lunch, the doctor, and in between lunch and the doctor's, a couple of stores. In the Arbor (an awesome little boutique on State St), the sales lady was commenting on Olivia's big vocabulary. Aunti Jenn says, "Yes, she really likes fancy words ... Olivia, what's the fanciest word you know?" Without a moment's pause to even consider it, Olivia cheerfully (and immediately) says, "Ooh-La-La!"

WHAT?

So this morning  I was in the mood for scones ... maybe because I have been really wanting a girly tea party, but that's beside the point. I had the oven turned on and was sorting some papers waiting for it to heat up, when I started smelling something. Not realizing it was coming from the oven,  I started searching the house looking for the melting plastic smell. Finally, it clicked. I opened the oven, and there was a melting blob of green plastic. I scooped it out and ran cold water over it, hoping to discern what this odorous green blob was. Unable to discern its origins,  I began questioning my two "angels." Olivia seemed genuinely confused and shocked, but Corbin had this stricken look on his face and didn't say anything. I looked hard at him, and thought back to what he'd been playing with this morning .... ah-hah! "Corbin, did you put the green turtle in the oven?" After the solemn look for a moment, Corbin nods ... "Yeh." He says quietly. I began moaning and groaning and making a big deal about how it stunk and now the turtle is ruined and he can never play with it again and then made quite a ceremony out of throwing it in the garbage ... yes, overkill, but I'm  hoping he really gets the message. Drama can go a long way in these types of situations. But after I'd made my point and retreated into the kitchen to finish making my breakfast, I began snickering to myself. Seriously, it was funny.

Yummyness and Other Sundries

I tried a new recipe last night .... it was so yummy and healthy that I just have to share. It's from my favorite food blog, and I would say this is even better than the "traditional" chicken and rice with campbells from a can and/or the lipton soup mix. Here's the link to the recipe (it's on my favorite places list) ... so maybe you'll be inspired to try it too!

In a side note, some days I feel so lucky. Watching my children play together, I just wondered how I am so blessed. Three beautiful children and one more coming ... a great house, and we are comfortable. Even at our most "strapped" financially we have so much more than many many people ... I do not deserve this happiness, but I am so thankful!

Today, Olivia and I had a date. She wore a princess crown, and everywhere we went, people commented on her crown, her cuteness, and how well behaved she was. By the end, when someone asked her if she was a princess, she said, "NO! Why does everyone think that? I'm just wearing a crown!!!" Our first stop was Starbucks. She ordered (and I quote) "Hot chocolate with whipped cream on top and no lid." She also had a cinnamon roll that she licked off all the frosting and the cinnamon insides. She was discussing the people in the coffee shop, and I was trying to explain that it's not polite to point at people in a public place. I told her that she could explain "that gentleman in the green shirt" and nod her head toward him to indicate what direction he was. She thinks about it, tries out the head tilt, and says, "I can't because it makes my crown fall off!" When I burst out laughing, she said, "Mommy, you can't laugh like that in public, it's not polite!"

Olivia's Preschool Quotes

At preschool during play time, Olivia announces, "I am the ice queen!" and Mason (her "boyfriend") yells back, "I am your ice king!"

Later, "That looks Ooh, La, La!"

ANNOUNCEMENT!!

The blog that made me cry ...

The mother of four

ANDREA HEY

Four children aged 13, 11, 9, and 4

Looking after three children under 4 had been desperately hard work but the worst was behind us. So what happened five years ago, when my third child was within striking range of that welcoming reception class door? You've guessed it. As my mother mutters darkly, I have ended up with "more children than is strictly necessary."

"How clever you were to get it all over with quickly," everyone said after my third was born. But the details were lost in the blur. It had all gone so fast. We'd started out young and now our friends were beginning to produce gorgeous bundles of their own. I felt broody and left out.

There were also deeper forces at work, less comfortable to examine. At some level, the idea of having four children appealed to my vanity. What a statement about the health of my marriage! Look how competent I must be as a mother! At the time we were feeling financially secure. If I put off building some sort of career for myself, never mind. I wouldn't be just a mother; I'd be a chief executive mother! And the small question of what to do with the rest of my life could be shelved for a few more years.

So I luxuriated in the pregnancy, savouring that "last time" feeling. This would be the child whose parents had finally hit their stride: the mother relaxed and experienced, the father competent and attentive. This time we'd do it properly — the activities, the social life, the table manners, all the niceties that had fallen by the wayside in the first crazy batch. Then we were handed 8 lb 4 oz of reality and a whole new set of problems.

Don't get me wrong. We adore her. We're beyond lucky to have four healthy children. But perhaps all mothers come prewired with a set number of times that they can perform certain tasks before blowing a circuit. Just how many repetitions of The Wheels on the Bus can anyone bear before reaching for the gin? Think hard about a fourth baby if, like me, you can't afford a nanny to sing the Postman Pat theme tune while you lie in a darkened room.

Maybe mothers, like other aging flesh, have a best-before date. I came to realize quite quickly that my energy for the more practical tasks would have been nicely used up by three-and-a-half children. That extra half has sometimes pushed me beyond fulfillment into despair.

The early months passed in a fog of exhaustion. My husband and the cat escaped expulsion from the house, but  I can recall banishing the dogs to a kennel: the numbers had to be reduced somehow. I couldn't cope.

A not untypical "first year" scenario involved driving to school with the baby screaming for some undiagnosed reason; Number Three being sick in a handy bucket; Number Two sobbing because I had put the wrong filling in his sandwich; and Number One announcing that I had forgotten her swimming kit again.

The packed lunches were made with the newborn ululating for the morning feed. Tummy-bug victims couldn't stay home alone but had to trail out on the school run. 

Nurturing another small personality has remained endlessly fascinating, but after 13 years I'm numbed by the practicalities. Forget 9 to 5, it's the monotony of the 0-to-5 routine that kills the spirit. When you shovel yet more gloop into the little mouth or gird yourself for another round of potty training, you know where this is headed and it won't be pretty.

As Number Four starts to develop her own collection of little friends, fitting her social life into the busy whirl of the greater family is like stuffing a balloon into a sock. My brain can't hold another classful of names, faces, and birthday parties. 

I am stale. Walking into her "first" third birthday party felt like stepping back in time. The roar of the bouncy-castle pump, the rioting of hyped-up toddlers, the impossibility of conversation with other distracted parents: hadn't anything changed? Well, yes. I had. 

Older children doing more grown-up things is exciting. Yet our late addition slows us down (or necessitates a babysitter).

Even the simpler aspects of family life — cinema trip, bike ride — are compromised by the little one's inability to keep up with the gang. Her infant illnesses tear up my agenda at a moment's notice. Last Saturday I was housebound with a very sick youngest. My husband was left to cope with the birthday disco party (including the scene where the teenage daughter locks herself in the loo five minutes beforehand, howling that her outfit is wrong). I can feel my eldest storing that particular maternal absence for future recrimination.

Whereas our third child's delight in the birth of his fan club has been constant, there is slight resentment in the older pair. "You said that when Freddie was bigger we'd go on a skiing holiday. Instead we got another baby," moaned the elder daughter.

Plus a bigger car ... financially, how naive we were. My broody self had "reasoned" that surely one more baby wouldn't add that much expense. What about all the hand-me-down clothes, toys, and equipment that we already owned?

But it transpires that the cost of rearing four children is actually about one third again more than the cost of raising three. 

Funny, that. The lesson I have learnt is that having four children is indeed a status symbol. But doing it in comfort is the preserve of the seriously rich.

Life out there feels closer now but I still can't quite touch it. And when my baby starts school in September, I face my fourth encounter with the same reading scheme. 

There is a look that I recognize in the eyes of mothers of four. No matter how much we dote on our brood, it's as if we left something important behind and can't quite remember what it is. Socks? Wipes? Car seat? No. It was our better judgement.

Dinnertime Conversations

At dinner, Eliana says, "It really bothers me when people say things like they have to pee or poop. Like in the lunch line today, Gypsy said, 'I have to pee.' It was so gross. And rude. I wish they would say, 'I have to use the bathroom.'"

So Steven proceeds to tell this story how he was in kindergarten and he told his teacher that he had to use the pot and his teacher thought he was being rude and wouldn't let him go. (Yes, I think it's scarred him ... I've heard the story a number of times.)

There's silence for a moment, and Olivia says, "What's the pot?" So I tell her it's a rude way of saying toilet. There's another moment of silence, and Olivia says, "I think we should make a rule in the Wages family that no one is allowed to say 'pot' because it's bad!" And Eliana says, "Well, at least when we're talking about the toilet."

The Joy of Siblings

Corbin is getting really really good at picking on his sisters .... specifically Olivia. He decided to demonstrate it for me this evening. He ran up to Eliana, grabbed ahold of her hair, and yanked as hard as he could. He kept pulling out the cords that attach the DVD player to the TV while Olivia was watching her movie. He stood next to Eliana beating her with a pillow while she said, "Please stop, Corbin. Please stop, Corbin. Please stop, Corbin." Later, that failing to get an emotional reaction or attention, he threw a little people dinosaur at her. I'm pretty sure it hurt a lot. He's also been calling names. His sisters have taught him two lovely names that he uses occasionally as his attention-getting weapon. He says "stupee" (stupid) and "dumb-ball." Gotta love that older-sister influence. So while I was cleaning up from dinner, he was repeatedly calling Olivia his prize names.

After getting him in trouble a couple times, it clicked. Yes, he was being naughty, and his goal was ATTENTION ... from ME!! (brilliant, Mommy). So I decided the next time I would ignore it. Sure enough, 2.5 seconds later, the opportunity presented itself. Olivia yells from the toy room, (yes, she's in on it, too), "Mommy, Corbin called me dumb ball again!!" So I yell back, "Thanks for telling me, Olivia." And do nothing. Corbin realizes I haven't taken the bait and I hear him yelling "Dumb-ball, Dumb-ball, Dumb-ball!" I take a deep breath, tell myself, wait. wait. wait.

And then Eliana, my miniature Mommy, decides to take action. She marches herself into the toy room and begins to lecture her siblings. "Corbin, you are being very naughty. If you don't change your behavior, you're going to have consequences." (Yes, that is really what she said.) When he continues, she says, "Corbin, you're going to lose this balloon if you can't behave." (Corbin responds, "I will NOT.") "See these scissors, Corbin? I'm going to cut up this balloon so you never use it again." And apparently it elicited enough of a behavior change, because I heard quiet for awhile in there .... or at least the good kind of noise. Quiet would be alarming.

Until Olivia got mad at Corbin for something and apparently hit him over the head with a toy. And Eliana decided to intervene again. "Olivia, you have the choice to walk away, or ask him to please stop, or if he does something really bad and it's a big problem, that's when you involve a grownup." I just about died laughing in the other room. Later, I was asking Eliana about it, and she says, "Well, Mrs. Beam has this webkins that's a green frog named gerbil and it has these rules for if people get in a fight ... you know, what you can do." I asked who Mrs. Beam was, "She's my counselor. Well, the school counselor."

Wow.

Ultrasound

Today we scheduled our ultrasound. It's going to be this thursday afternoon!!! I am so excited I can hardly wait! My mom thinks we should start a betting pool whether it's a boy or girl! So let the betting begin! The kitty goes into the diaper fund!