So Incredibly Sweet

So I'm saying prayers with Gracie tonight and she chose me as her main subject.  The prayer went as follows:

Dear God, I thank you for Mommy.  She is a great Mommy and takes good care of me.  Please help Mommy have a good shower tomorrow morning so she isn't so stinky.   Please help Mommy teach me about Jesus.  I love you God. Amen.

Hint taken.

Soccer Saturdays

I swore to myself my kids would not play soccer until they were 8, 9, 10 years old. It's ridiculous to toss the little ones, many of whom can barely kick the ball much less have anything that resembles a skill set, out on a field and let them go at it.

Yessiree, we were going to do some backyard lessons/play time and if they liked it? We'd take them down to the city where they could get schooled in pick-up games, but learn some creative skills. My kids were going to learn the old-fashioned way so they wouldn't have to do the boring and time-wasting stand-around-and-wait-your turn-to-kick-a-ball practice that is the hallmark of soccer practice in this age group. And I know I've offended some people by now, but you must know I really don't care.

So what are we doing? We signed them up. Why? Because for Ainsley, her best friend from Kindergarten (oh how we truly LOVE Olivia!) did it last year and had fun. For the trips, because theirs is a non-competitive soccer camp (no games) and since Gracie could spend as much time as we'd let her kicking a ball into a goal, why not? And, let's be honest, it's practically free.

How did it go?

Well, most of the children at the camp had fun. Not mine, but most. Of the 30-odd kids with the Trips, mine were 3 of the 5 kids who did everything they could to NOT participate. It was so painfully obvious that we don't get out much. Highlights for The Three? Purple soccer socks for the girls and blue for Johnny. Oh, and new soccer balls which they carried around. At one point they were supposed to kick the ball to one of the coaches, who would then stop it set it up so they could have the thrill of kicking it into a goal. What did Johnny do? Kicked it to the coach, then ran up, picked up the ball, and threw it into the goal. Sigh. I should add that I had to keep folding Lizzy and Johnny's socks down b/c they preferred to wear them as thigh-highs. Very fashionable. And cool.

For Ainsley? Hanging with her sweet friend, water breaks, and snacks were pretty much the highlights. Oh, and the team jersey. And her purple socks. And her purple soccer shorts.

And I'm over it. I'm super-selfish with my time and after an entire Saturday morning being occupied with soccer...I wouldn't be devastated if everything was cancelled.

Since it won't, at least I'll have a week under my belt and will be better prepared. All these professional soccer parents showed up with chairs, drinks for themselves (I had some for the kids), blankets, the works. I did not. I had nothing except for a laden backpack filled with water and snacks for the kiddos, so I totally looked like a newbie, which was annoying.

Johnny, holding the ball. Socks pulled down around his ankles b/c he didn't like them the traditional way. At least they no longer looked like leggings.

Gracie, just before camp started. I had to walk with her out to her coaches, clinging to my leg.

Buddies. I'm loving the fancy socks!

Lizzy, carrying her ball around. Again. She kept putting it down, which meant another kids would innocently use it, and she would get pretty frosted.

This week will be better, right? Right?!?!?

23 Minutes

Ainsley's school starts promptly at 8:39 am

This morning she crossed the threshold of her school at 8:38 am and I consider it a minor miracle.

8:15 am is supposed to be Game Time around here (shoes on and exiting the house).

On this day, the clock hit 8:15 and...

1. Annie spit up on herself and the carpet and played in it because that's what babies do.
2. Toilet got clogged which is SO fascinating for SO many wee ones.
3. Annie then pooped.
4. We forgot Gracie hadn't gone potty yet (it'd only been 14 hours, folks).
5. Toilet still clogged b/c of other issues, so Gracie is sent somewhere else. Under protest.
6. Ainsley decided she needs to go potty, so she is sent somewhere else. Under protest.
7. Annie changed, dressed.
8. Backpack. Lunch box. Shoes. Check. Check. Check.
9. 5 kids in the car. Check. Strapped in (we have been known to forget someone). Check.

8:28 - drove away from the house

8:32 - arrived at school. Parked, unloaded the car, and made my little ducklings spit-spot it up to the door

8:38 - yell "I love you! and Have a good day!" to Ainsley as she raced onward and upward.

Mental double fist pump.

Home.

We were back for about 30 seconds when I heard Lizzy freaking. I looked over and Johnny had intentionally put a wind-up toy in her hair (which immediately became embedded). He made a second poor decision and laughed about it, which promptly landed him in some serious business.

It's all normal around here.

Oh My

I can hardly handle the pigtail/blue eyes combo. It breaks my heart over and over again.

The orange marker is a nice touch.

Triplet Logistics - Back Together Again

When Gracie was about 7 months old, we had to move her out of the room she shared with Johnny and Lizzy. She refused to sleep in her bed, crying and waking up the other two, and the only way we could get her to the Land of Nod was to put her in a swing. Now, all of you experienced moms out there know it is a terrible idea to let a kid sleep in a swing. It is not a deep sleep and eventually they get too wiggly or big for one and have to get used to a bed anyway. I knew this, but was so desperate to visit that elusive REM sleep that I did not care. I started caring when she eventually decided the swing wasn't good enough and wanted me to hold her. I love, love, love cuddling with my kids, but I needed sleep and one night I had enough. She was waking up, crying, every 45 minutes (and would stop immediately if I picked her up - she's no fool). It was midnight and that was the night Gracie moved out of that bedroom and into our closet. Before you start going all DCFS on me, please know our closet measures 8x10, has a window, and is attached to our bathroom. The kid essentially had her own suite and, after 2 rough nights, became my best sleeper.

Gracie stayed in our closet for about 11 months and loved it. When it was bedtime, she would practically run through our bedroom and stand/hang on the pack-n-play so she could go to bed. There comes a time, though, when we knew she needed to move back in with the general population and that was about three weeks ago. My fear that my sleep champion would have a difficult time was unfounded - the kid transitioned perfectly and is still the last one awake (most of the time). Not sure what I would have done without that closet. Probably would have given up our bedroom and slept on the couch...

Gracie's Suite:




The Gang. Shenanigans to start soon...

My Kid Is Smarter Than...

In my biased opinion, Gracie is pretty sharp. Even when she does this:



The kid cracks me up. I just wish I had a video of when Johnny tried to wear his Easter Bucket - he would walk straight into walls. I should probably put the pails away...

So Silly (Or, That Gracie Part II)

Gracie is a ham and if the trend continues parent-teacher conferences will be interesting. She also rivals her older sister in intensity and focus though, so I'm hoping that trait wins out in school over the joy of entertaining her classmates.

An example:

I Love...

That Gracie

She is my little spitfire and is utterly ridiculous. She is the reason why the Big Three were on bottles until they were nearly 17 months old. Ainsley smoothly transitioned to sippy cups before her first birthday. No protest. I naively assumed the littlest wee ones would be the same. Foolish.

That Gracie refused just about every cup that had milk in it. Now, give her a sippy cup of water and she went to town. But in her mind, milk is supposed to come from a bottle. Everything else will be (and was) thrown on the floor without a drop crossing her lips. Stubborn, stubborn child. At least we know there is one thing she inherited from me...ahem.

For some reason, I did the classic First-Time-Mom routine by desperately trying every single type of sippy cup to see if there was one she would like. Which one does she prefer and will now guzzle 8 oz of milk from at a time? This one:



That's right. $0.65. Oh, and get this. She prefers the orange one. If she gets the green or blue she stares at it suspiciously, gives it a thorough examination, and only ends up drinking 1/2. If she wasn't so stinkin' cute...that Gracie.

No!

That's what Gracie said to me and then later on to a friend the other day, and it wasn't just for kicks. She said it in that sweet voice children use when they first start talking, the voice we love to hear after months of babbling and cooing. She firmly expressed her opinion to me when she did not desire her diaper changed and it was used again that day when she decided clothing should be optional after baths.

Let the battles begin.

Poor thing. She has no clue what she's in for. :)

Why Don't I Learn?

It's 100% my fault. Fooz and I were giving the kidlets baths this morning and I took the chance on not diapering Gracie so I wouldn't leave Lizzy alone in the tub. So, my sweet lil' ol' blondie pooped on my bedroom floor and then stepped in it. And then took another step. It is the only room in the house that is wall-to-wall carpet. There was a pretty little footprint. It was faint, but still.

Good memories, really. Fortunately this is the stuff I laugh about.

Such A Diva

Gracie already has a lot of quirks, one of them being she already has clothing preferences. She loves shoes and brings them to me in the morning, shoves them in my face, and grunts at me to put them on her. Of course I comply. One of her other loves is a particular pair of jams (no, not the shorts some of us wore in the 80's). She finds this specific pair of pj's, brings it to me, and demands dressing. It doesn't matter what she is already wearing - she gets all wound up about it and gets seriously mad when we have to take her precious pj's off to leave the house, heaven forbid.

Decent pictures of Lizzy and Gracie have been hard these days because they know a flash is coming and they either squint or close their eyes. I know, I know. I could turn off the flash and figure out how to make everything wonderful, but I'm too impatient and by the time I solve the problem, the moment is always lost. So I deal with squinty-eyed kids.

Gracie with her favorite article of clothing, eyes closed.

Caught before she closed her eyes completely. Nice side shot of her pj's.

One So Happy, One So Perplexed

So I had 2 kids urinate on my floor yesterday. How did that happen, you ask? Well, I deserved the first one. Johnny loves, Loves, LOVES to be nakie. He knows he is not allowed and as soon as he takes off his pants and diaper, he beats the feet, laughing, away from me. Anyway, it was right before lunch and they were all DYING of hunger, climbing up and hanging onto my pants, sobbing, when he decided to create toxic waste. I can't handle smelling that for 30 minutes, so a change was necessary. While I was occupied, Gracie saw her chance and was digging through the chemicals under the sink (of course I had forgotten to lock the cabinet). I wasn't in the mood for a poison victim, so Johnny was allowed for all of 1 minute to run around with only his diaper. That meant: diaper off, happy boy, happy-laughing-fountain creating boy, peeing all over the kitchen floor. Where the girls were. The girls thought urine looked fun to play with. It was lots of fun trying to clean up liquid and block 2 kiddos from splashing in it (thankfully Johnny took off to avoid clothing).

How did it happen again? After they smeared their lunch in their hair, which most babies do, they needed a bath. This is good, because baths make them happy and give us something fun to do during the long stretch between naps. I like baths. They make me happy, too. Lizzy was stripped, waiting to be put in the tub, when I noticed she was bent over, looking down at her legs, obviously concerned about whatever was happening all over the floor. Nice.

This happens to lots of parents, I know, and it has happened to me throughout the years. Gracie has peed on the carpets a few times (airing out from her frequent diaper rash). It just hadn't happened twice in one day yet. It's all good and lots of other people got to laugh about it. I actually didn't mind.