"They Poke Me!"

Today is the first day of Tadpole's life that he didn't have ANYONE swatting at his eye trying to wipe the oooozey sticky goo that is perpetually crusting over his eye. Words cannot express how I dreaded the idea of sending young Tadpole into the hospital to be knocked out with general anaesthesia. Ever since the unfortunate event of me passing out while holding Superkid down while doctors tried to gas him out for an MRI when he was 3, I have realized my weakness for my own children. I usually am the first to talk someone into pulling back their bandages for me to gawk at all sorts of goriness... but my own kids! I simply can't take it. So I sent Pops. He even admitted to sweating bullets while holding the mask over little Tadpole's face.

Tadpole's little tear duct never opened after he was born. The doctor explained it was a simple procedure that would take only 5 minutes to poke it open. Turned out to be a bit more tricky than that, but looks like the doctor got it in the end because I have not seen a single eye booger since the operation. Pop's and I agree, it was definitely worth all of the emotional trauma on our part.

...Tadpole, suffering from a little post traumatic stress, today blurted out of no where, "I HATE DOCTORS!" I calmly asked him why (like he could possibly have a reason), and he shouted, "They POKE me! I HATE DOCTORS!" He repeated his tirade for Pops later upon which Pops assured him we would keep him healthy and we wouldn't let doctors poke him for a long time. He wanted us to know that he meant business and wouldn't tolerate any tricks so he once again insisted, "I HATE DOCTORS!"

I have to admit that when the doctor informed us that we would have to put eye drops in his eyes 3 TIMES A DAY FOR A WEEK I was ready to let the whole profession know what we thought of them. Good Grief! At least the end is FINALLY in sight!

A Little Stay-Cay for the Vay-Cay

I wish I could say that I was that super-cool-fun-mom who is providing endless entertainment for the little Toads during February vacation. Instead, I am the lumbering-exhausted-pregnant-napping mom passed out in the next room.

Fortunately for me the kiddos are entertained by a little action from PBS Kids. It is unbelievable to me how long all three kiddos can blissfully share the computer. I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.

I did muster enough energy to rally the kids for a little walk at our favorite estuary when things toasted up (to the high 30's!) on Saturday. Pops, recognizing my limits better than myself, dropped his home improvement projects to help herd the kiddos.

One of the best days in my memory.

Our Newest Family Member...

Tadpole doing his gruff little Sheriff impersonation

Sheriff moved into the house Christmas Day. He is seldom seen outside of the grip of Tadpole’s little meaty hand. In fact he is a great advocate for little Tadpole. Just last week when Abizella was pestering Tadpole, Sheriff stepped in on Tadpole’s behalf and shouted, “Hey Abz, stop poking Tadpole! You’re in a heap of trouble! Do you understand?!” Sheriff is also a great advocate when he feels that Tadpole is not getting everything he is entitled. After I denied Tadpole a little snack of pickles moments before dinner was about to be served, Sheriff cornered me. He stared me down before getting down to business, “Hey Mom, Tadpole wants a pickle. Give him a pickle please.” I am not one to mess with Sheriff, he is one intimidating guy. The last thing I need is to be cited a pickle violation!

Sheriff isn’t shy either. We go to Superkid and Abizella’s sports class every Friday afternoon. There is a group of 2 and 3 year old boys who are there as spectators as well. All are Cars enthusiasts, but Sheriff always gets things going. After lining up the other cars Sheriff shouts, “START YOUR ENGINES!” All of the other cars rev into action and go racing around the stage.

Sometimes Sheriff throws me a bone too. If Tadpole is resisting a diaper change, Sheriff will call out, “Woof! Tadpole, you better go lay down, it is time for an oil change!” Or if Tadpole would rather not take a bath, Sheriff will usually side with me and say, “Tadpole, let’s take a bath. My wheels are filthy! Will you wash my wheels please?”

He does have his charm. Nothing warms my heart like hearing little Sheriff belt out a hymn at church in his gruff little voice. And even though he can be a tough guy, he loves to have Mom tuck him in and give him a kiss goodnight. I’m glad Tadpole has a little buddy to look out for him. It can be tough being the small guy around here.

The Inquisitive Mind

Abizella NEEDS to know. It is not that she hasn't come up with her own answers. She just likes to check them out with what the rest of us know.

Abizella is obsessed with love. She is constantly musing about which of her brother's she should marry. I've given up trying to convince her that she can't marry a brother. I guess she knows a good catch when she sees one... or two. She wants to know all about our wedding, the more details I can give her the better. We spend a lot of time looking at our wedding album. Then she is off to plan her wedding to Superkid or Tadpole. One thing for sure is that she WILL have flowers on her wedding cake (cake is the most important part of any festivity in Abz mind). On Valentine's Day she asked me, "Mommy, is my Father your boyfriend?" I've got to admit, her perspective does give Pop's and my relationship have a little more flare.

Abz is also very interested in little Applesauce (the baby who currently resides within me). She has theorized that mommies can grow so many babies because they must have lots of extra bones. She also wants to know how many more babies I can make with the extra bones that are kicking around inside me. The most boggling question was how all of those bones come out. After a sort-of-candid conversation on the subject, she has readily reproduced the information to anyone who will listen. Let's just say that the midwife was impressed.

For the most part, Abizella's well thought out scenarios are clearly more interesting than anything I have to tell her.

I Pity the Teacher Who Lacks Imagination

Pops was questioning Superkid about paying proper attention to his teacher’s instruction. The dialogue went something like this. Pops said, “Superkid, are you listening to your teacher when she is teaching?” Superkid, dodgingly, yet truthfully replied, “Ummm… No.” Gaining momentum Pops continued, “Why aren’t you listening to your teacher?” Superkid just shook his head and said, “There are just too many things to do with a pencil, I guess.”

For those of you who lack imagination, you obviously haven’t explored the possibilities just at your fingertips. Just to pluck off the low hanging fruit, Superkid’s pencil can easily be transformed into a rocket, a jet, a steamroller, an axle… on and on. Only time will tell if some hard hearted, but well meaning adult will convince Superkid that that same pencil can be used as an instrument for educational pursuits.

This is a kid who has never uttered the words, "Mom, I'm bored." He can always find something to do.

Here is our little Superkid after being whoooooshed down the toilet, whirled through a tunnel of pipes into the sewer with his trusty sidekick dragon.

Here he is in Lego Land (where he likes to spend most of his time) acting out some elaborate space ship attack.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Our little Valentines are full of sweetness... mixed with a little mischief.

Perfection!

I'm Holding Her To It

Abizella is by for the most liberated Toad. She is free thinking, determined, and unconventional. From the time she was an infant, she demanded daily outings. The girl just can't be tied down. Because we have spent A LOT of time home lately (for the sickies), she takes every chance she can get to abscond to the back yard for a little OUT time. Pops tried to deter her from straying out into the cold by telling her she had to wait until Mom got home. I hadn't even shut the door when she burst by me. With her binoculars fastened around her neck, she grabbed the scooter and pushed her way down the driveway. It is for this reason that I find her an anomaly. She is also very adamant that when she grows up she is going to buy the "BIGGER" house next door so she can be close to us (I guess I should note that she at least is planning to move out), and she is going to be an attorney so she can take the train to work every day with daddy after she gets home from her morning run with me. Somehow I think she will change her mind. But I'm holding her to it. This is one little lady we want as close as possible!
Abz is MEGA excited about the prospect of a new Toad in the mix. Several times a day she will come running up to me and hug and kiss my stomach and chat with, "Baby Applesauce." She changed his name to Applesauce from Minty once she learned he was a boy. Looks like we have a blogging name at least!

Sunday she made everyone in the family a place card for our dinner plates, she later transformed them into assignment holders for our FHE chart. Notice baby Applesauce is of such importance that he takes up two assignment slots. If you look closely, you will see not only does her handwriting have the flair of a Jr.-higher (notice the stylish dots above our names), but she has permanently assigned herself in charge of the treat. Add, "not a dummy" to her list of attributes!

A Whole House of Sickies...

We've had a lot of down time lately. Rattling coughs, sniffles, fevers, and general malaise...

That is until the Motrin kicks in... then we kick it up a notch and go pillage the recycling bin for projects. Sunday was Robot Day. This is the final version that emerged after several sketches. Superkid is into the details. Not just adding them, but discussing all the intricacies of his projects. This model is the, "SAI", complete with midsection monogram for easy identification, two clamping hands for dexterity in handling Legos, rolling wheels for rough terrain, a wire circuit for brain function, square eye sockets for increased visual range, and I am sure I have only listed a few of this creation's functionalities. This kid is a thinker... even when his "thinker" is clogged with the effects of a nasty cold.