The Inmates Are Escaping!

See this little sweetums? So snuggly and cute.

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See the gap in the fence?  She discovered it and it couldn't be a more perfect fit for someone just her size.

For the first time ever, the triplets tattled for something important and I quickly found her in the neighbor's yard because they have one of these:

Actually, by the time I got back there, she had shimmied up the ladder to the playhouse at the top and seemed very pleased with herself.  I, however, was NOT pleased.  You see, there are four other children in this household and not one of them explored the corners of the yard.  Of course, the littlest of our wee ones has a personality that is more like this:

Explains everything, right?

Sassy little thing. 

Situation Under Control

Sweet Lizzy Lou does not care for most loud noises, specifically vacuum cleaners and thunder. And hand dryers in public restrooms. And the anticipation of hand dryers in public restrooms. "Does not care for" generally  means running and hiding somewhere until it is all over, all the while holding her fingers in her ears. Her freak-outs lessen in intensity every year, but she can hear a thunder clap from 1 Billion miles away.

Tonight we had a two-fer with tornado sirens, always popular at Chez Laird, followed by a mediocre thunderstorm. Annie was the only kid who didn't give a rip as we hung out in the hallway in the basement, but I think she was mostly excited because - after yelling at Ainsley, who had heard the sirens but didn't make the connection that action was therefore required - she had her chubby, nakie self scooped out of the bathtub and bounced down the stairs with a brief stop to grab a diaper on the way. Pretty fun in her book.

So Lizzy was already unhappy by the time the tornado issue was over and just as we were supposed to sit down to dinner, the storm arrived.  Ugh.  Suddenly she wasn't hungry and, fingers in her ears, skedaddled from the table to the couch were she snuggled under a blanket...fingers in her ears.

Then. Then!!! John, brilliant John, came up with the AHa! solution we should have figured out two years ago: earmuffs!!  The ones John is supposed to use when he's working outside to help stem the tide of hearing loss.  I don't think they're really called earmuffs...noise reducer things maybe? Well, Super Dad planted those babies on Lizzy's hyper-sensitive ears and..voila!  The pic above is a now-happy child who cheerfully left the couch and ate her dinner.

Somethin' Fierce

That's how John describes our little Annie.  He's right, of course.  She reminds me so much of Ainsley (and Gracie, for that matter) in her intensity and countenance. She's happy and laughs easily, but she is definitely not the super-cheery smiley baby who loves everyone because, well, she doesn't love everyone.

It's a good Fierce, full of as much determination and confidence as a one-year-old can possess, and it will serve her well as an adult if she can balance with Wisdom.

In the meantime, I hope her siblings learn to just stay out of her way because she literally plows right through them to reach whatever goal she's after at the moment.

Oh Annie.

Oh no. Oh No! OH NO, NO, NO!!!!!

FUUDDGGE!!! 

Only I didn't say fudge.  I said the Big Word.  The Queen Mother of all cuss words.

Not out loud, mind you. There are children about. But I did say it in my my mind and please pray for me about my language. Please.

And why did this happen?? It's Saturday morning and the coffee maker has broken.  And John isn't here so I can't go buy a new one RIGHT NOW.  I just put Annie down for a nap and I'm considering hauling her out of bed and throwing everyone in the car, jammies and all, to run to Walgreens, Target, the Grocery, anywhere because I'm panicking.  Surely my blood pressure is rising exponentially. 

It Wasn't About The Race

I just realized I never documented the 1/2 I did way back in February.  It was awesome.  And difficult.

Let's start with difficult.  An injury prevented me from finishing any sort of training schedule, and the longest run I managed before the race was a 7-miler.  I really wasn't all that worried about it because I figured I could run that far on race day and then really, what's another 6.1 miles?  I had already resigned myself to not meeting any goals, so my plan was to run as long as I could and then figure out how to finish the silly thing without looking too ridiculous...but willing to look ridiculous if something super-cool happened like one of the Disney workers (or even better - a Disney Character!) took pity on me and I got some sort of magical assistance as only Disney can provide. Glass carriage? Pixie dust?

So I ran the whole thing and it wasn't that easy, but was terribly impressed with myself for finishing with a respectable time.

And awesome?  Yes Ma'am!!!  I was at Disney World, for crying out loud! Running a Princess 1/2 marathon with 20,000 other people, 16,000 of which were women, most of whom were dressed up to some degree in tutus and tiaras.  Because why the frick wouldn't one dress up?  Ugh.  All I could manage was a pink top and a huge pink bow in my hair. Not enough, folks and next time I'll be one of the crazies because they had the most fun.

But the best part could have been predicted if I hadn't been so egocentric leading up to the weekend.  You see, the only reason why I was even doing something like this was because a dear friend asked me to celebrate a big birthday with her and because her impact on my little world was so profound I said yes.  I said yes, even though of the 17 women who met up for Debbie's Birthday Bash, I only knew four of them and that included the hostess.  But when the hostess is a woman of great faith who has gathered other women from all chapters of her incredible life, the results are astounding and I should have known it would be that way.  Every Friend Of Debbie was universally and uniquely of unbelievable character and talent and depth and it was humbling and an honor to meet them.

Therefore, it was also an ginormous kick in the tuckus that I need to step out of the bubble I have inadvertently created and try to think beyond myself every once-in-awhile.  Granted, it's hard to live outside of the moment around here with my five wee ones running amok, but there is a lot of hurt and need beyond the boundary of my yard and an effort should be made. 

So there.  I expect everyone who knows me in real life to challenge me a little on this.  Just a little, though.

Happy Birthday, Debbie.  Thank you for inviting me to your party.

Debbie's Princesses.  She's the one with the 13.1 sign.