Monday, January 31, 2011

I Never Thought...

...I'd be worried if 7 gallons of milk would get our family through 4-ish days of being holed up in the house. Supposedly we're in for a significant storm, which means no popping over to the grocery store for anything. Heck, they (I'm unsure as to who "they" are) have announced the storm to be so severe that people and friends are hauling out the generators.

We don't have a generator.

We do, however, have 7 gallons of milk.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Starting Early

The Boy tried to work me over today and, while he didn't get what he wanted, the effort was appreciated and admired by The Mommy.


Johnny loves, loves, loves chocolate milk. Chocolate milk is something I crave during pregnancy, so he comes by this naturally. Lately he's had a lot of it, due to time spent with the beloved Fooz, Daddy, and junky winter weather that sometimes softens my heart.

Which leads us to today's conversation:

Johnny: Mommy, I don't like white milk. (Note - he had just drained a cup of milk.) White milk is for girls. I like chocolate milk. Chocolate milk is for boys. Boys like chocolate milk.

Me: I like chocolate milk and I'm a girl.

Johnny: No, girls like white milk and boys like chocolate milk. I want some chocolate milk. (It must be said that he wasn't being demanding, just factual.)

Me: Nope. You just had some milk and chocolate milk is for special times, like with Fooz or Daddy or weekends. Plus, you just had some milk.

Johnny: But I didn't like my milk (not true) and I'd like chocolate milk.

Me: Nope. Chocolate milk is for special times with Fooz and Daddy.

Johnny: But Mommy, you're special. I can have chocolate milk with you. (said with this enormous smile, as if he was trying to hold back a belly laugh. He knew what he was doing.)

Me: Nope. Sorry bud. You can have it tomorrow.

I'm so cold. But again, I'm pretty impressed with my 3-year-old boy. He'll quickly learn it's going to take more than words to sway me. It will take ice cream (that's how his dad won my heart) or chocolate, preferably lots of both.

I'll leave you with the very latest pic of my too-smart-for-his-britches son. Whom, I should add, I adore. Please excuse the quality; it was taken w/the phone.

He ran around the house like this...

Monday, January 10, 2011

Pics of the Fam

And just because I haven't put any up in awhile and a friend wants some:

The Original.

Lizzy Lou. Who is getting into this baby-thing and "nursed" her Curious George via her belly button tonight. Oh, and according to her that is also how babies enter the world (from one's belly button).

Miss Gracie. Future President.

Johnny and Ellie (not our dog). But we need one because, well, look at The Boy's face.

Sweet Annie at 2 weeks.

And because this pic reminds me so much of Ainsley...

So Conceited

That's me. I had convinced myself and announced to many that one more kid would not make that much of a difference in our household. If you knew us, who would think otherwise? After triplets, why would one_more_child really mess us up? Put me off my game?

Well, our sweet littlest ball of sugar has done just that. I feel like I'm having to reinvent the wheel of Managing Life here at Chez Laird and it's blowing my mind. Now, Annie is easy (at least for a newborn). She's sweet, she's mellow, and even though she truly believes Happy Time is for about 1 1/2 hours in the middle of the night, and we only exist to hold and feed her, she is wonderful.

But as delightful as she is, I am not functioning. I can't figure out how to get everyone to the grocery store without messing up breakfast/lunch/taking A to school/nap time/picking A up from school/etc. I can't figure out how to get anything done - like the dishes. Or putting the kids to bed within an hour of when they are supposed to be in delightful slumber.

Pure pride and conceit. That's all I can think of when I reflect on the words I spoke of how Number Five wasn't going to make that big of an impact on our schedule. They are words I am now humbly choking down without any sort of chaser.