Secrets

Portrait of Maddie taken by Bella.  Goofballs both.

Maddie just ran in from outside, clad only in Hello Kitty panties, and whispered to me, "Don't talk about my peepee on the grass." And ran back outside.  Thank heavens the neighbors have no windows pointing at our house.

In case you were wondering.

If you've ever wondered whether dumping an entire bottle of shampoo onto the bathroom floor would make the floor really slippery and fun to slide around on, you're in good company.  Because Bella was wondering that same thing.  The answer is:  Yes.  Really, really slippery and really, really fun.

If  you've ever wondered whether kneeling in said shampoo would make your pajamas yucky and bubbly and slimy, you'd also be in good company.  Because Maddie was wondering the same thing, and her answer is:  Yes.  Really slimy, yucky, and bubbly.  The only solution to this problem is to scream loudly and tattle on your sister for spilling the shampoo.

If you'd put yourself squarely in the category of people who are pretty sure that cleaning up shampoo from off the bathroom floor is the last way you'd want to spend your Sunday evening because your hypothesis is that shampoo must be scrubbed again and again and again and again because its very existence depends on its ability to create suds from practically nothing, you are ALSO in good company.  Probably the best company.  Because you are in my company.  And our hypothesis is correct.  More correct than we would have wished.

As a side note, I wish to point out that although the five heads of girl hair in this family require us to purchase shampoo in bulk in Sam's Club, I have the foresight to make my strategy one of refilling our pump bottle only about half full every time I fill it.  For mitigation purposes, in case something like this happens (or in case someone decides to use the shampoo as bubble bath).  I hate to brag, but there it is.  #iamsobrilliant

Easy Steps to Feeling Like a Great Mom

1.  Hand your two-year old the spoon and bowl when you are done spreading chocolate frosting on peanut butter brownies.*
2.   Sit down, eat lunch, and smile while she sings "Sprinkle, Sprinkle, Little Star" to herself, using the spoon as a microphone.
3.  Listen as she very seriously asks the spoon, "Do you love Jesus?  I LOVE Jesus."  Let your eyes mist up for a second.
4.  Enjoy the five minutes of satisfaction in the good job you are doing before you make another huge parenting mistake.  (Anyone else get unreasonably grumpy about a pile of unfolded blankets and de-cased pillows in the middle of the living room?  No?  Only me?)
*I have extra kids in the house today, and there's nothing I've discovered that keeps everyone happy for longer than making a big batch of cookies together.  Every kid I've ever met likes to dump ingredients, stir, and spread.

How observant are you?

Take a look at these two pictures:

There are two things you should have noticed.
1)  My youngest daughter loves my mom with all her heart.  If my memory serves me correctly, she said "Nana" before she said "Mama."
2)  An extra pair of size two panties and a plastic grocery bag can tide you over in a pinch when you find yourself two hours from home on a Sunday without an extra diaper.  (Turns out the gas stations in Green River do not sell diapers. Or wipes.  That was an interesting change duty in the bathroom.)

She hates her crib. . .

. . . so she climbs out to sleep in the box her new tricycle came in.  

No accounting for taste.

Some of our favorite things

Maddie's favorite activity is to shove as many little pebbles down the drain as possible.  When they have to bring a super-industrial vacuum to the hospital parking lot to get those babies out, I'm pretty sure they are going to present me with a bill.

 This tree is the favorite play spot for my big girls.  Zoom in, and you'll see several interesting things.  First:  the treehouse in the bottom.  My fun-loving mother-in-law cleared that space out and hung some small swings as a we thought it would be make-shift, but it turned out to be awesome little house.

 Second, two girls near the top of the tree.  And yes, that is the power line across the photo, just to give you a sense of how high they are.  (They're at least 25 feet from the power line in horizontal distance, but they are definitely higher.)

 And about halfway down, you'll find the third interesting thing:  Bella--doing what her sisters are doing.  Only I've had to put my foot down about how high she's allowed to climb.

And to think, I thought pine trees were only good at Christmas time.

When one bath just isn't enough. . .

Saturday nights can be a bit hectic.  I never really have a great plan for Saturday dinner, and I'm always trying to simultaneously toss four kids in the bathtub and throw something together in the kitchen.  Olivia and Naomi are both working on their certification* for washing the two younger girls, and last Saturday they had washed Maddie, Bella, and themselves, and gotten out.  I dried and dressed Maddie in her pajamas and went back to the kitchen.  

Then I heard a splash.

 It seems when Mads realized her idolized Bella was not yet out of the tub and into her jammies she decided that she was in the wrong place.  Back into the tub she slipped until they both got out together.

I really should know better by now. 

*Have I discussed John's policy on certification here on the blog?  John determined years ago that in order to qualify to do a task (such as pouring milk, brushing their own teeth, watering the plants), a child must successfully perform the task four times under supervision.  If the child then subsequently makes two mistakes performing the task, they lose their certification and must repeat the process to recertify.  It's genius.  The two older girls, especially, know what they are certified and not certified to do, and they follow the lines pretty obediently.  Bella. . . . . well. . . . Bella knows what she is and isn't supposed to do but does what she wants regardless of whether or not she is certified.

Babies!

This is my newest niece, Caroline.



She's Dave and Lauren's darling new baby, and we're so excited to have her.  Plus, in true Anderson-brother form, Mike and Kelly had their baby the very next week (one week apart--best cousins ever!), and Rob and Kasey should have their baby any time now.

Because of the miracle of Facetime on John's phone, we got to see that baby "live" when she was just two days old.  I called for me; I thought I was the most excited to see that tiny baby and watch her do that new baby squirm.  However, I found my enthusiasm completely overshadowed by this girl.



Thirty minutes (but only a couple minutes are shown here).  She kept cupping her hands and saying "Beebee hands" because she wanted to hold that tiny baby in her little hands.



I'm not kidding.



And she could have gone all day.  And all night.  And then she did it again when Baby Wendy was born.  And now that Dave has put up some videos of Caroline on the interwebs, I just have to push replay over and over again while I work on the dishes.  She never gets sick of talking about the baby.  Ever.  Plus, she thinks all of us should be every bit as excited as she is, for as long as she is.  That's a girl with an obsession.

Sisters

My only sister is eleven years younger than I am, so I feel like I grew up in a family of boys (six brothers will give you that impression).  Because of that, I'm new to the sisters dynamic in my house.  So, any of you with sisters, enlighten me if you will:

Did you have a sister whose greatest joy was to either tie you up with the jumprope and call you her trapped elephant or tie the jumprope around her waist and make you lead her around like a dog?

And, if you did have such a sister, was your greatest joy to try to be just like her, even if that meant putting on seven pairs of panties in a misguided attempt at imitation?

And, if both of those were true, did you still feel the need to whack her face every five minutes, just to make sure she didn't get the wrong idea about your adoration?

Because, sometimes--I'm telling you--I just don't get it.

There are days. . .

. . . when it's 4:00 p.m., and it's too much work to even think about finishing the Snoopy Easter book you love so much.

 Too bad you wasted all that energy throwing the tantrum about desperately wanting the Snoopy Easter book that your older sister had.  If you'd just waited until she was done instead, you might have been able to look at the whole thing.

Cousins

My family has a tradition of meeting at my great-grandpa's cabin the week after Christmas to lounge, watch movies, play games, and eat good food.  This year, we added Rock Band to the mix, and (if I do say so myself) I became a semi-proficient drummer.  Those high school years of bass drumming paid off.  

Another part of the tradition is putting the babies in the sink for a bath.  These two little girls are exactly two months apart.  Last year they looked like this.  

This year, they were walking and babbling, and almost good friends.

Ruthie, however, obviously has better hair.

Well, maybe she doesn't always have better hair.

Crazy Baby

This baby won't eat cheese in any form, other than pizza.  She hates macaroni and cheese and despises chicken nuggets.  She barely tolerates hot dogs and grilled chicken.  Rice, pasta, and un-peanut-buttered bread get dropped off the edge of her tray.
However, she consumes black beans like a person possessed. . .

 . . . smashing them all over her face in an effort to get MORE of them into her mouth FASTER.

The same thing happens whenever she is offered a banana.  I stopped slicing her bananas months ago because she'd prefer me to just hand her an entire unpeeled banana to devour in under 30 seconds.

Seriously.  Maybe she was meant to be born in Brazil.

We might as well be a fan site.

Do any of you remember that post I did about Maddie and Billy Joe Armstrong?  Well, after examining my Google Stats, it turns out that, because of that post, the search terms "billy joe", "billy joe armstrong", and "billy joe armstrong hair" have led people to my blog more than any of the other search terms combined.  Awesome.

A Forceful Makeover

If you've ever wondered what it would be like if Oprah was three years old, but still had that burning desire to help others "live their best life ever", wonder no more.  It would look like this:

And this:  (Sorry for the blurriness. My camera's portrait setting was not recognizing Bella's face as human.)

And this:

Bella could not have been prouder of how beautiful she had made Maddie.  "Look how she has sparkles."  

Also, if you are wondering whether Maybelline's 12-hour Wonder Color Stay Lipgloss actually lasts for 12 hours, the truth is, it does not.  It lasts MUCH longer than 12 hours, especially when applied to eyelids and foreheads.  More like 48 hours.  

One Year Later

I know I'm starting to get old now, because years are just passing in a blink.  for example, is my baby still this size?  

 Is she even still in this car seat?  Is her hair still this color or this crazy?

Nope.  This is my baby now.  And she's usually quite a bit more cheerful than this.

 Her grumpiness could be due to one of two reasons.  #1:  Her cake was a complete disaster.  Complete disaster.  The teeny layers overflowed and were soggy and gloppy, and the large layers sunk so low they were almost nonexistent and were dry and hard.  Same batter for both layers.  Fail.

 #2:  That fire was getting awfully closer, and her family was singing pretty terribly.  That's enough to scare anyone.

 This is how she normally looks.  She's almost become an entirely new baby this last month.  Her whole life has been driven by "How close can I stay to my mom?" and "What is that she's eating and how can I get some?"  But apparently, she has also been looking around this whole time and filing away all the different things she was going to do as soon as she was mobile.

 And this last month, she decided to start taking care of business.  Goal #1:  Make sure all the diapers, books, dishcloths, DVDs, clothes, and piano music are all dumped on to the floor every day.  Several times a day, in fact, if some poor misguided fool attempts to put them back onto the shelf where they "belong."

 Goal #2:  Get into the toilet as often as possible and with as many items as possible.  Bonus points for soaking the whole bathroom in the 15 seconds it takes mom to investigate the splashing.

Goal #3:  Climb on to the couch and from the couch to the side table and from the side table to the computer desk.  Push as many keys on the keyboard as possible.

 Goal #4:  Find small seats to nest in and small objects to eat while nesting.  The less like food the object is, the better.  Scream whenever mom tries to help you sit forward in the Bumbo.

We love this baby.

What I missed out on by not having an older sister

Scene:  Me in bathroom, little girls in my room.  Happy chatter from both girls.  Meowing from two-year old, followed by screaming from 9-month old.  

Me: [bursting in upon the scene, certain to find biting or blood or something violent]  What's going on in here?

Bella:  [from under the overturned laundry basket] I am the mama cat, and Maddie is my baby cat.

Me:  Baby cat?  Where is the baby cat?

 Oh, no wonder she's screaming.

I don't think two girls, even two very small girls, can comfortably fit under an overturned laundry basket.  Too bad, though.  It was a good idea.

I Love Trash!

Anything dirty or dingy or dusty

 Anything ragged or rotten or rusty

 I love trash.

 Maybe we'll have to start calling her "Oscar."

At least this particular time she hadn't found a dirty diaper to unwrap.  Now that's a treasure.

Pincer Grasp

Alternate Title:  It's just so hard to be a baby.


Hmmm. . . what do I have in my hand?

 Did it come from the table?

 Well, I definitely need to keep hold of it in my death grip.  I'll have to use my other hand to get another one.

 Oh, but just look at the treasure trove I've found.  I'll use my raking grasp to get a handful of these.

 Oooh, oooh, I've got one.

 But I see a half-gnawed piece of cracker there that I'd hate to miss out on.

 Oh, and what is that black thing Mommy is pointing at me?  Maybe I want that too.

 This is another one of those delicious puffs that just seem to jump out of my hand at the last second before they make it to my mouth.  Maybe I'll have to sneak up on this one.

 Concentrate.  Concentrate.  Don't lose focus.

 Fail.  Try again.

The only time Maddie was able to get one of these puffs in her mouth is when she had accidentally slid it to the edge of the table and she was able to pounce on it with her mouth like a baby hawk.  We've got a lot of work to do on the pincer grasp.