Barn-bots!

Here is Superkid's latest submission for Hasbro. Introducing, "BARN-BOTS". These incredible transforming barn animals are much more well disguised than a "Dinobot". As Superkid reasons, wouldn't an Autobot disguised as a DINOSAUR draw unwanted attention? Really! When is the last time you saw a dinosaur wandering around? But the common barn animal is the perfect disguise for these Decepticon extinguishing machines! Genius. This kid is always thinking.

Drum roll please....
We have:
"Megabay", the llama
"Pigsty", the pig
"Flap", the chicken
"Longhorn", the goat
"Grass-eater", the cow

Remember, you saw them here first!

I'm Beginning To Think This Could Happen...

As I sit here counting minutes *again* and wondering how much longer, my mind has turned back 6 1/2 year ago. I remember rocking Superkid in the middle of the night a couple of weeks after he was born. At the time the physical and emotional scars from his birth were real. Every ounce of my energy those days were spent trying to feed him. But for that moment as I sat there and rocked him, that little baby was mine. I wondered to myself how many more I could have. At the time this was an irrational thought, but I started calculating rationally anyway. I was 28. Conventional wisdom said to avoid risk you should wrap up baby production by age 35. That gave me not quite 7 years. Hmmmm? Could I squeak in 6? Sure, with the help of some twins it didn't seem a problem. I should also mention that my prevailing thought during those early days was, "How in the world did my Mom do it!?" I could barely hold it together with one baby, and she had 2 sets of twins on top of us other 3 rascals. But at that moment I felt undaunted.

Well, here I am 2 months out from my 35th birthday. Looks like I have been blessed with 4 babies. I am the luckiest woman ever. I have the best ones. I tell them so everyday. As I sit here thinking about the time (hours? days?) I have left carrying this little baby, I am torn. While I am generally not a huge fan of pregnancy, it does have its moments. I do love the wiggling and hiccups. There is nothing else like it. I have also enjoyed watching the older Toads prepare for their new baby too.


Superkid has been my personal caretaker. He is constantly in tune with my mood and well being. He is the first to know when I need a hug (usually even before I do), and the first to ask what he can do to help me. He is also genuinely concerned for my health and the baby's. Early on he found me pricking my finger to test my blood sugar. I played it cool like it was no big deal and explained to him how I couldn't eat sugar and breads while I was pregnant. Sometimes I want to be naughty (and sometimes I am) and have something yummy. But I have Superkid there to my rescue with his, "I have my eye on you" signal. You know the one, where he points to both of his eyes using one hand than points to me.

Abizella has loved this baby ever since we first mentioned him. She proudly bragged to the whole primary about her new little sister the day after we told her we were expecting a new addition. And only after a brief purge of disbelief, full heartedly embraced the fact that she would have another brother when her sister assumption was proven mistaken. I am going to miss her snuggling up next to me and pulling up my shirt to rest her cheek on my belly. She likes to listen to the baby and hug the baby. But her favorite thing is to know where the baby's bum is. I make a guess and she squeals with delight. She loves to rub and pat his little bum.

Tadpole is nearly oblivious to the baby. He does enjoy going to the doctor's office and listening to the baby's heart. He and Abz have been my companions on nearly all visits. They have become experts on the operation of measuring tapes and heart rate monitors. When we talk about the doctor's office, Tad's first question is if we are going to the office that has "Scoop" (the toy truck in the waiting room) or the other doctor office (there are two locations). After we have that information settled he says, "I get to hear the baby's heart!". I'm not sure that he equates the doctor's office experience to his soon-to-be reality of a new baby in his own space. New baby or not, I can never refuse when Tadpole asks, "Mom, will you snuggle with me?".

I'm looking forward to becoming acquainted with #4. Those early days are rough on me, but I am looking forward to the quiet times, when everyone else is nestled in and it is just me and the baby snuggled up dreaming about what will be. Nothing like it in the world.

Soccah!

On the way to the field Superkid said, "This is great! I feel like a REAL soccer player!"

The Most Liberating Day of the Week!

I LOVE garbage day. Nothing is as regularly cathartic as watching that big old reliable garbage truck and those dedicated civil servants haul away a heap of our discards. Can you believe there are actually towns, and a lot of them, out here that don't have garbage service?

My love for garbage day comes honestly. Maybe I have even blogged about it in the past, but I come from some serious purgers. Growing up, my Dad would corral the 8 of us into the basement or the garage during General Conference, turn up the radio, and we would purge, clean, and organize every single item in the garage or basement. That is 2 major cleanings of areas that I would bet don't get looked over at all in most homes. My Dad is cute too. He would come up with funny little ideas like putting all of our bikes in the basement in the summer time, where we would have to drag them up and down the stairs and through the house every day. Then he would re-evaluate during October Conference and the bikes would winter in the garage.

I remember when Pops and I were packing up to move to the East coast I sneaked a couple of boxes into my parent's basement. While I still treasured the items in the boxes, I didn't want to haul them 2500 miles. I secretly stowed them in the dark recesses of my parent's basement. The next time I showed up at my parent's house, the boxes were in the hall waiting for me. My Dad casually said, "Oh, I found a couple of boxes in the basement that you probably want to take with you." It was like he was plucking a splinter from his paw. He actually felt their presence in his home and had to get them out. I should mention that he did relent and allow me to keep them there. But I get it now. We just hauled away 1 big truck load and 1 van load worth of crap from our basement. Nothing gives me such great satisfaction.

Some people "nest" by gathering stuff in. I am loving throwing stuff out. Could be that it is a simpler solution to get stuff out than to add more room to make space for the baby. All I know is that it sure feels good.

...and for you Earth lovers out there, no worries. *Most* of that crap has gone to good causes.

Nature vs. Nurture

When I was a wee little one, maybe about 4 years old, my Mom signed me up for swimming lessons. I still remember my teacher to this day. He was this hairy old guy without a sense of humor. Not sure why he got stuck with the tot class, but apparently the problem was mine, not his because when I started teaching lessons at the same pool 9 years later he was still there. I don't recall how cooperative I was, but I do remember DREADING the end of the lesson where he would line us up on the side of the pool and make us jump in like we were a helicopter. He wasn't cool about it either. He didn't pick us up until we had gone under. I still associate that burning sensation when I get water up my nose to those lessons. The last day of class he lined us all up on the diving board to jump in. I refused. But REALLY, what do you expect. I was 4 and COULDN'T SWIM! I remember being carried kicking and crying to the end of the board where I was dropped into the water. Would you believe that I refused to take swimming lessons again until I was 11?

So here I am, 30 years later. I've got these kids, you see. I want them to feel confident in the water, I want them to enjoy the water. Okay, the truth is I want them to be Olympic swimmers. You've got to admit they have the right physique. So here is what I do. I take my little offspring and spend the last 3 years hauling them lovingly to the pool all summer long. I call up their buddies and formulate these elaborate plans to teach them all to swim. I should mention that I am kinda boastful about my swim lesson teaching ability. It is not the 15 years of experience. I've just always been good. I know it isn't good manners to brag, but I'm just laying it out there. Some ladies are crafty, some are great cooks, some are kind and gentle mothers etc. While I don't have those qualities I have taught some impossibly nervous kids to love to swim. I'm just saying. We have all had a great time doing it. Can't say MY kids love the lessons, but they do love playing with their friends. Can any of them swim? No. Do they enjoy being in the water? Well... yes eventually. But they are not the first ones in, if they get in at all. You might think that maybe the pressure is too great and a little reverse psychology is in order. Trust me, I play it cool.

Truth of the matter is, the kids take after me. They all just have an extra healthy dose of self preservation. So have the last 3 years of nurturing them to be budding elite swimmers been a waste? No, we have had a good time trying. Nature may win this battle. But the war goes to the steadfast and diligent. Besides, I know where the kids are coming from. The kids will swim. Now that Superkid can actually touch the bottom, he is actually enjoying himself and trying new things. This could be his year. He is still stiff as a board and the last one in, but it is a major improvement.

I tried a new tactic this week. I actually signed the kids up for swimming lessons. It is torture watching their teacher's inferior abilities, but I try to keep a poker face. It's our little secret that they have had the world's finest instruction for the past 3 years.

Chalk one up for "Nature", I'll keep you posted on the "Nurturing".


Here is one for Abizella's Olympic montage spotlight. Abizella in her first SPEEDO! Don't think that I haven't already day dreamed about sending in pictures and stories to NBC about my little elite athletes...
And here she is at her lesson. I am just proud that she agreed to put on her swim suit and sit at the edge of the pool.

Here is Superkid contemplating joining his class in the water.
Here is our little champ practicing his bubbles in the safety of the gutter. Can't tell you how this makes my stomach turn after knowing what goes on in those gutters... but I hate to curb his enthusiasm.
And what about Tadpole? He is a little fishy... I'd have hope, but so were Superkid and Abz when they were 2. That self preservation thing doesn't kick in for a year or so. But still, there is a glimmer of hope that MAYBE one of the kids will take after their father.

We've Got the Best One!

Our Pops took a day off to spend with the kiddos this week. We all agree it was a great day, but just because we know our Pops is the best Pops.

Who else thinks to build the alphabet out of Legos?

And who else will go where no Toad has gone before... BEHIND the oven! To clean! Superkid was so impressed that he took a picture for posterity. I agree. Totally blog worthy. Thanks Pops! We love you! ...and it is not just because you feed our addiction for Dunkin Donuts whenever you get a chance!

Potty Champ

Friday was a big day around here. We hauled a super-jumbo size box of diapers back to Costco. As Tadpole puts it, "No more diapers for me!" Here we are 6 1/2 years later without a Toad bottom to diaper. ...well at least for a few weeks. This kid is a potty training phenomenon. Could be that my expectations are much much lower. Could be that my tolerance for a mess has increased. Could be that I have a better understanding of the toddler psyche. Could be that up to this point 4 out of 5 Toads used the potty. But let's give credit where credit is due. This kid knows how to do the trick. ...most of the time. When he doesn't, he is not happy. That is also good.

Along the same lines, while reading a Winnie the Pooh book to the kids at the doctor's office this week, Tadpole observed, "Mom, that is a BIG POOP!" To which the other ladies in the waiting room snickered. Didn't end there, "Mom, that Poop has a big bum!" Seriously, who names a cuddly little teddy all stuffed with fluff "Pooh"?

Can You Stand It?!!

90°! The first week of April! In Massachusetts! If I didn't have the pictures to prove it I wouldn't believe it myself! The sad part is, I would have taken a well needed nap instead if Andie didn't call around noon with the beach plan. Nothing like a toasty afternoon at the beach after a NE winter to rejuvenate the soul! We all needed this.

As soon as Superkid hit the beach, he was in a dead sprint to the surf! My, how this kid has changed. Putting some height and weight on helps conquer the waves. Every time he went in, he proudly ran out and reported how high the water splashed him. Love this kid.
After soaking up some rays, Tadpole was right behind his bro., soaking up some icey Atlantic.
These ladies have always been big fans of the surf!
And this little lady toddled in for the first time. About the cutest thing ever!
Thanks for the fun ladies!

Did I mention how well we all slept last night after a day of fun? Long live SUMMER! Can't wait to see you next!

Cutest Ever Easter Kids

So we have this Grandma who is something of a celebrity at our church. She may not know this, but she has quite the fan base who line up to see what fabulous fashions her grand kids are going to sport each holiday to church. She did not disappoint this Easter. Everybody tells us how lucky we are. We know it! ...and sometimes we let our cuteness go to our heads...

"That Egg Has My Name All Over It!"

That is what Superkid had to say about his breakfast this morning. ...Then he asked me to scramble his hard-boiled egg. I extinguished his enthusiasm when I told him the egg was already cooked. Major let down, but he rebounded after a bowl of fruit loops and a BIG OLD CONFERENCE SWEET ROLL.

These kids worked hard and took their egg dying very seriously.

Tadpole is such a big kid now. He had a clear cut vision in mind for his eggs, and one color per egg was not in the plan. He worked conscientiously and was very careful. There was only one egg casualty all night.

Abz was in charge of the pink and purple eggs. Nice work!

And the winner of the, "Finger Coloring Contest" is...

A 3-way TIE!

And a Very GOOD FRIDAY It Is!

After a week of RAIN and POTTY TRAINING, we were all delighted to emerge into the world again! We weren't missing the sun, and we were all up for some fun at the play group Easter Egg Hunt. Superkid actually got to join us because there is no school for Good Friday.

Growing up in Utah, I haven't had much exposure to these Catholic holidays. Actually, I have found myself in some embarrassing situations when I used to work. Like the time I brilliantly observed to a friend that Good Friday always seemed to come on Easter weekend (try explaining Mormons are Christian after that comment). Or the time that I politely urged a few co-workers to wipe the smudge off their forehead on Ash Wednesday before I realized there was something to it.

Whatever the occasion, we are all up for no school and reasons to celebrate around here, especially when they are mixed with a little SUN!