6!

Daisy Mae is 6 today!

Goodness!

It's like a Birthday Bonanza over here!

If I have to bake one more cupcake, I fear I will scream . . . and then eat another cupcake.

***

Daisy Mae's verse:

"But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him.  He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.  It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.  It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit."

Jeremiah 17: 7-8

I have been thinking a lot lately about how quickly my children are growing up.

And it scares me.

*Disclaimer:  Please excuse this post.  I am not very good at writing about anything without cracking a joke here and there.  I am trying to share from my heart something that has been on my mind a lot.  I hope it makes sense!

Honestly, I don't really understand why the thought of them getting older scares me.

Fear of change?

Fear of the unknown?

Fear of teenage drama?

Fear of sass?

Fear of junior high?

I don't know.

All I know is that the years are flying by.

It does not seem like all that long ago when I just had these two girls . . .

at home.

Interruption:  I am simply taking pictures of pictures.

Classy, I know.

The days were busy.

Bottles, diapers, diaper blowouts, binkies, naps, books, songs, crying, laughing, spit-up, teething and exhaustion filled my days.

I used to long for my girls to grow up.

Just a little bit more grown up, and surely life would get easier.

I had a dream . . .

 that one day,  my girls would pee on their own.

 . . . that one day, my girls could actually help me shop instead of riot and heckle me from their double stroller.

 . . . that one day, my girls could sit in a chair and eat all by themselves without spilling anything or falling out of said chair.

Fact:  Daisy Mae is still struggling through these issues.

 . . . that one day, my girls would not need help wiping.

 . . . that one day, my girls would not need naps.

 . . . that one day, my car would not be littered with forgotten sippy cups.

The days quickly came and went.

Instead of bottles and spit-up, life became filled with baby dolls, dress-up, and tea parties.

And I found myself longing for my tiny babies again.

Maybe not the spit-up or diaper blowouts parts that come with babies, but the snuggly, smiley and cuddly parts.

Now, my girls are older.

Days are filled with homework, bike-riding, reading, singing, and coloring.

And I am desperately trying to find the pause button.

Because it is all going too fast.

And I find myself forgetting many things.

The way they felt while sitting in my lap.

The feel of their sleepy heads against my chest when we would read a book.

The warmth I would feel when they would sleep on my chest.

The sound of their voices trying to say new words.

The feel of their tiny hands while on a walk.

The quietness of the house when they were napping at the same time.

The cute way they would toddle around.

The wonder and worry while discovering my new role as mother.

 

And now, my Daisy Mae is 6.

She is missing her two front teeth.

She is in kindergarten.

She reads stories to her little brothers.

And she is quickly changing.

Lately, when I start to feel sad about how quickly my kids are growing up, I try to focus on the fact that I have been blessed to love them and know them for every day that God has given me with them.

So, instead of being sad that my baby girl is six, I will praise God for the fact that I have had her in my life for six years.

And hopefully many, many, many, many more.

Yesterday, I did a song tribute for Handsome Dude to the lyrics of his favorite tune.

For Daisy Mae, I will do one to the lyrics of a song that means a lot to me.

Being a mom has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

And it has also taught me the most about myself and grown my faith in God.

***

I stand

Amazed in the Presence

of Jesus the Nazarene.

And wonder how He could love me

A sinner condemned unclean.

 How Marvelous

O, How Wonderful

and my song

Shall ever be.

 How Marvelous!

O!  How Wonderful!

Is my Savior's Love for me.

Happy Birthday to Daisy Mae!

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Matthew 6:  19-21

For more blogs on the Finer Things in life, visit Amy's blog.

Potty Training: Day Two

A quick recap of Day One:

Day One did not go well.

I am sure you are all dying to know how Day Two went.

It started off horribly, which was to be expected.

He woke up with a saturated pull-up.

Then we had to go to the dentist, which was a joy in and of itself.

Yes.

I would consider hauling 4 children to an 8:00am dentist appointment in the midst of potty training to be high on my list of enjoyable activities.

But, I digress.

We returned home and fell right back into our routine of soiling underpants, for that is what my Handsome Dude does best.

I started setting a timer for every ten minutes to remind myself to take him to the bathroom.

Then I started to wonder if I was potty training Handsome Dude, or if I was, in fact, potty training myself.

Hmmm . . .

A quandary.

For day two, Handsome Dude started feel the need for privacy.

Little Dude and I were no longer allowed in the bathroom area.

Handsome Dude is a stubborn dude.

So I camped outside the bathroom door and listened with all my might, hoping to hear any evidence of a trickle.

Yes.

This is what has become of my life.

Jealous?

Handsome Dude requests some books.

I give him some books.

They are, of course, unsatisfactory to his tastes.

But since he does not yet clearly speak English, I cannot understand which books he would prefer, which infuriates him all the more.

I tell him that I no longer care and I go sit outside the door and contemplate throwing in the towel.

Other things I contemplate:

1)  Why God gave me four kids because I clearly cannot handle it.

2)  My neck.  Why does it hurt so?  I don't want to call the chiropractor.

3)  Carbs.  I think I eat too many.  I should cut back.

4)  Where are Handsome Dude's glasses?  He has an eye appointment tomorrow.  The eye doctor will not be impressed when he goes to check Handsome Dude's prescription and I tell him they have been AWOL for 1-2 weeks.

5)  I wonder how long I will have to plug my car in?

6)  I don't think I can give up carbs.  I am fairly certain that carbs are in every item I choose to eat.  I think I love carbs.

7)  Why is Little Dude so darn cute?

And where is his other shoe?

8)  Nope.  I love carbs too much.

Suddenly, Handsome Dude gets up from the toilet and informs me that he pooped.

Right.

But then, I see it!

Poop!

On the floor!

My life could not have gotten any more exciting than it did at that very moment.

But wait!

Poop!

In the toilet, too!

He must have gotten off mid-poo and sprinkled a little on his way to inform me of his accomplishment!

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to inform you that my Handsome Dude made 4 successful bathroom trips on this second day of potty training, the twelfth day of the month of January in the Two Thousandth and Tenth Year of our Lord.

 

True.

He still had about 18 failed trips.

But, still!

Potty Training Day Two:  Encouraging Fail

And I would like everyone to know that I, yes yours truly, won the bet with the Lumberjack.

We never set up our prize parameters.

What should I claim?

Hmmm . . . .

Potty Training: Day 1

 

Handsome Dude is 2.75 years old.

This is dangerously close to 3.

The time has come.

Ready or not (emphasis on not).

When I potty trained my girls, it was surprisingly easy. 

I took away their diapers.  I put them in underwear.  They each had a couple accidents and by lunch time they were getting the hang of things. 

Seriously.

 It took like 2 days.

Silly me for thinking things would be similar with Handsome Dude.

Apparently, my girls are well-advanced peoples.

I will be expecting a call any minute from their school confirming my findings.

So . . . here were my goals for Day 1 of potty training Handsome Dude:

1)  Take away diapers

2)  Try not to get angry at him

3)  Switch to underwear

4)  Try not to yell

5)  Pull-ups for naps/bed and outings

6) Candy if he makes a pee pee in the potty

7)  Try not to get angry

8)  Try not to yell

9)  Get him to potty in the toilet by lunchtime

And here is how Day 1 went:

Not well.

In preparation for this, I purchased 9 pairs of underwear.

They are all soiled.

We had not one, I repeat, not one successful toilet trip today.

Not one.

And, to make things even more fantabulous, I am completely out of paper towels.

And paper towels come in handy when cleaning up urine in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, bedroom, and anywhere else that he  . . .

might roam.

He does NOT get it, I repeat, he does NOT get it.

The very first thing he tried was to put on all 9 pairs of underwear on at the same time.

Who does that?

Then he cried and wailed and cried and wailed.

Then he went and got a diaper.

But I am remaining steadfast in my new diaperless beliefs.

When he finally put a pair of underwear on, he caught his little unit in the elastic . . .

which resulted in him becoming terrified of the "owie" underwear.

So, now when we put the undies on, we have to run in place and scream and cry for fear of the undies.

*sigh*

At the start of the day, when I was still blissfully hopeful, I sat him down on his potty seat and told him to point his little unit down.

By the end of the day, I could have cared less if it was pointed down.

Sure.

Spray me all you want.

Just please, please, please for the love of everything, please urinate while you are at least standing within 3 feet of the toilet.

I would call that progress.

HE DOES NOT GET IT.

HE NEVER WILL GET IT.

HE WILL BE THE WORLD'S FIRST HIGH SCHOOLER IN DIAPERS.

DON'T TRY AND CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.

I KNOW.

HE WILL NEVER DO IT.

He did however, find time to smooch with his little bro.

 

 

Yes.

He kisses on the toilet.

He reads on the toilet.

He shows me his owies on the toilet.

Guess what he does not do on the toilet.

Now the Lumberjack and I have a bet.

Let's see which on eof us can get him to make something . . . . anything . . . come out of his bottom areas while he is sitting on or near the toilet first.

The Lumberjack tried for 45 minutes last night.

Lumberjacks really like to win bets.

But, no.

No, no, no.

Handsome Dude had not one succesful elimination.

Potty training day 1:  FAIL.

Little Dude

He walks. 

He climbs.

He dances.

He says the following words:

Hi.

Mama.

Milk.

Hot.

Uh-oh.

Bye.

He has 4.2 million teeth.

He has recently learned how to climb out of his crib, which is, in fact, fabulously convenient.

He is completely and utterly terrified of bubbles in the bath.

And Uncle Alex.

But really . . .who isn't?

He's getting so big . . . but he will always be my baby.

Interesting.

I have a double-chin.

Who knew?

I wonder if they make "8-minute Chins?"

If so, I am totes buying myself a copy.

And now, to make everyone else feel better about their homes, I present a peek into my world:

Points of interest you should notice:

1)  Check out how scratched my  coffee table surface is.  This is due to the fact that Handsome Dude and Little Dude firmly believe the coffee table is, in fact, a race track.

(Interruption:  my in-laws are furniture restorers.  I fear I am a huge disappointment in the furniture area.)

2)  There is still toothpaste on my couch.  I repeat, there is still toothpaste on my couch.  I am considering turning the couch cushion around.

 3)  A bit of advice:  do not, under any circumstances, install faux wood blinds in your home if you have children under the age of 10.  Your blinds will never, under any circumstances, look nice and lovely for as long as life endures.

4)  Yes.  There is a fan in my home.  In January.  When it is freezing.  This is for to cool us down when we are exercising on the elliptical trainer that we pretend to use.

5)  Our dog needs a bath and better breath.

6)  Yours truly still has a very sore neck.  So, what you see there under my head is a heating pad.

And in conclusion, I would like to make something clear.

Yes.

My neck hurts from using the weighted hula hoop.

But, no.

I did not use said hula hoop around my neck.

I have had, like, 20 people ask me this.

I am not that dumb.

I don't know why my neck hurts from the weighted hula hoop.

But, I am considering going to the chiropractor as it has bothered me something fierce for 6 days now.

I am not looking forward to this.

I dislike being touched.

Question.

(Name that tv character)

Brown Bear Brown Bear, what do you see?

I see the toothpaste smeared on the couch cushion by Handsome Dude.

Can you see it?

Here are some pictures of my favorite time of day:

Reading time . . . right before nap time.

Little Dude still has his "burger shirt" on.

Years and years and even more years ago, my grandpa owned a burger restaurant in Florida.

So we have hundreds of these shirts advertising this restaurant in our family.

We use the child-sized ones as bibs.

In case you cared . . .

I have a really bad headache.

My neck still hurts.

I am going to give up the hula hoop and switch to 8 minute abs.

In case you cared . . .

Do you want to do it with me?

Come on.

It will be fun.

I am doing this with Erin from Is it Bedtime Yet?

Click on her name to let her know you want to do it, or just let me know in the comments section of this post and I will get you the info.

I mean my head really hurts.

It feels like my eyeballs are going to pop out of their sockets.

And my skull hurts.

How could I have possibly messed up the hula hoop usage that badly?

How hard it is to hula?

I need a nap.

I have nothing really to blog about today.

In case you didn't already notice.

Look!

He's smiling!

Are they not the most cutest group of kiddos?

Poor Sweet Pea.

She grew up too fast and is off being a first grader now.

When did this all occur?

Seriously.

She was just born.

There is something totally splattered all over my baseboards in the above picture.

I think it is either

a)  chocolate milk

b)  chocolate syrup from ice cream

c) pancake syrup

d) BBQ sauce.

Thoughts?

So.

I just put the boys down for a nap.

Should I

a)  take a nap

b) do the 8 minute abs

c)  sweep and mop the floors(they so need it, baby)

d)  Clean baseboards and, if I am feeling super adventurous, scrub the toothpaste off the couch.

Before you help me make my decision, please remember that my head is killing me.

And I need to do at least 3 loads of laundry.

And I have a muffin top.

And these came in the mail yesterday:

So, let's recap:

I have a headache.

I should clean.

I really need to do ab stuff.

My head really hurts.

I am going to Cancun on Feb 20th.

I have a muffin top.

My head hurts.

Now.

What should I do with my precious "boy-free" time?

Helpful.

Meet the dudes.

The dudes are taking a bath.

Handsome Dude, who was feeling particularly helpful this morning, decided to wash Little Dude.

Little Dude does not like this.

Little Dude is mad.

That's odd.

Now, big sister shall help.

Still, Little Dude does not appreciate her efforts.

Poor Little Dude.

My children are so helpful.

Handsome Dude helped himself to some milk:

He dropped it.

Plastics make it possible.

He also helped himself to a healthy snack.

Hey, Dude!

What are you doing down there?

Handsome Dude . . . Did you take a cupcake?

"Ummm . . . yes . . . I share with brother."

"See?"

So very helpful those boys are.

My girls are helpful.

Would you like to see what they made the Lumberjack for Christmas?

Coupons for free back scratches.

Lumberjacks love back scratches.

I got some coupons, too!

"Free Cleen Up."

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm about to redeem one of my coupons at this very moment.

We'll see how well this goes over.

Happy Saturday!