Happy Birthday to Me!

This year I was super lucky on my birthday because there was a new performance group in town.  I mean, really new.  They'd only ever done small gigs before--nothing big-time like my birthday.  But they agreed to do it, in full costume, just for me.  (Because I'm awesome like that.  And because they love me so much.)

You can see how they were interpreting nature through their costumes--channeling flowers with the head tutus and goggles.  

 This smallest performer was both enchanting and energetic.

 I think this oldest performer had been moonlighting as a make-up artist.  I loved the judicious application of lipstain on all the participants.

 There was acting, and singing, and many happy birthday wishes.

 I was especially enchanted by their original musical compositions--songs about flowers and growing.   The harmonies were novel and interesting, almost atonal in nature.

 Plus, again, I have to say:  I just can't resist tutus on heads.  They could have just walked around the room, and I would have been thrilled.

Happy Birthday to me!

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.

Easter Dresses, v. 2012

You know how sometimes you have a pretty concrete vision for a project, and you feel like you are working toward that vision, but when the project is all done, it's nothing (NOTHING) like your original idea?  Well, that happened to me on this year's Easter dresses.  (And yes, I realize it's June, but I'm trying to catch up.)

My idea was gingham shirtdresses--a different color for each girl--all in the same pattern.  Something like this:

 But with less tongue sticking out, and maybe in a green, a blue, and an orange for the other three girls.

But it's harder to find gingham in just the right shades than I originally considered.  And then I found a fantastic twill, with polka-dotted stripes in all my favorite colors.  And it coordinated quite well with the yellow gingham I had already found.  So I made this bubble dress for this crazy soul.

 And this seventies-inspired sheath dress for this child who like things simple.

 With four extra inches of length to cover those Anderson/Nielson legs.

And then reused the gingham with some white piping to cover this squishy little body.

 And added just a peek of the polka-stripes because I couldn't resist.

 Maybe next year I'll find all the right ginghams. ( But I've also got some ideas bouncing around my head involving eyelet. Do you think I'll still be able to talk Olivia into matching next year?)

Colorful Recital

All right.  I'm trying to pull myself together and be a regular blogger again.  June's goal:  Blog every stinkin' day. Let's see how that goes.

At the beginning of the year, Olivia signed up for art class and Naomi joined Miss Heather's dance classes.  Can I pause here for a moment to sing Miss Heather's praises?  Miss Heather is a "big picture" woman.  To me, a very literal, very small-picture, very step-by-step person, her productions are an absolute wonder.  She thinks on a grand scale--big themes, big group movements, big music.  (And can I pause for a moment again to sing her husband's praises?  He's the detail-oriented guy that puts it all together.)

So Mimi's spring concert was based on the book "Red Sings From Treetops" by Joyce Sidman, and Naomi's class were the redbirds that started the whole thing off.  I loved their red costumes.  

 So did Mimi. She felt extraordinarily beautiful in her red leotard and tutu.  And then she remembered the hair feathers and, no joke, squealed with the delight of it all.

I love the music Miss Heather picked for all the dances--only instrumental, and quite emotionally moving.  As a girl who never used to cry, I was a little embarrassed to find myself with tears in my eyes.



Granted, those tears may just have been because I could not believe that long-legged blond dancer was my little Mimi.  Crazy that they grow up so fast.

What I woke up to:

This morning, I heard from the kitchen, in Bella's most threatening tone:
"Mom, if you give me a cup of Gookinaid,* I will make your life easy.  If you don't I will make your life hard."  I was dying laughing, but when I entered the kitchen, it seemed for Emilee it was business as usual.  When I asked how she responded to the little mob boss she simply said she told her demanding a cup of Gookinaid was making her life hard.  Three thoughts came to mind:
  1.  What must every day be like if this wasn't abnormal enough to get a response from my sweet wife?
  2.  I can only imagine Bella learning this phrase and how to apply it from her older sisters.
  3.  A cup of Gookinaid is a small price to pay for the easy life.
*Gookinaid is the re-hydration drink that my dad used for his wilderness rehab program.  It used to be called Gookinaid but is now called Vitalyte.  Bella was after grape and would endorse it as the drink of choice for 3 year old tough guys.



A few moments after the above transpired Madeline Jamal got her mothers pajama string and was shaking it up and down saying yah, yah (I missed the yah on the video).  Maybe this is why a demand for Gookinaid was rather minor.

Productivity

Today, I:
*helped an eight-year old practice the piano for thirty minutes
*bathed two small children and got them dressed, in less than 20 minutes (miracle)!
*walked three miles while pushing a double stroller and participating in soul-refreshing adult conversation with my good friends
*drove to Vernal, shopped at Lowe's and Wal-Mart with those same small children, and remembered the early dismissal of school on Monday in time to make it home before the big girls
*made a quadruple batch of homemade laundry detergent and a double batch of homemade dishwasher detergent, inspired by Renae (I'll let you know how well they work)
*disassembled, moved, and reassembled one crib, one toddler bed, one dresser, six toy cubbies, one desk, and one bookcase, plus rearranged numerous tchotchkes and tossed countless pieces of garbage.  We are trying a new experiment of having the clothes and toys in one room and all the girls sleeping in the other room in order to lessen bedroom mess and foster sisterly spirit.  (I'll let you know how it works.)
#supermom

Then I:
*collapsed from exhaustion in front of Pinterest for an hour while I let ALL my children (including the baby) freely roam the dirt field behind the house
*grouched at those same kids when they came back in the house for not perfectly interpreting my wishes for how they should be helping me with dinner
 *dinner being spaghetti with marinara and canned breadsticks (not a vegetable in sight)
*let the two little ones fall asleep while the spaghetti was boiling, thus ensuring an evening spat with "Late Nap Syndrome" (chief symptoms:  sobbing uncontrollably and pushing anyone who comes near)
*copped out and watched the new Bible videos (they are absolutely wonderful) for family home evening, snapping at John (who had just walked in from a day of call) when the wireless internet wasn't instantly perfect
*obviously took the parable of the Good Samaritan to heart with my complete lack of sympathy for the couple of bumped heads that were injured on the way to bed
#suckymom

I'm sure one of these days I'll have a night where I can look back at the day's balance sheet and find MORE entries under the #supermom hashtag than under #suckymom.  But until then, I'm just grateful for the days where it zeroes out.  #neutralmom

It's why I love this girl.

On a recent "anticipation guide" (which is an opinion paper the 3rd graders fill out before they read a story) Olivia answered the questions this way:


Agree or Disagree:  You need to dress like your friends to be popular.
Disagree.  
Why?
Gust be yourself.  


Agree or Disagree:  Sisters sometimes ignore sisters at school.
Disagree
Why?
You should love your sister or brother.


Agree or Disagree:  It's easy to make new friends.
Agree
Why?
Because you gust need to be nice.


Agree or Disagree:  Friends don't care what you look like.
Agree
Why?
Who would?  (exsept your mom mabye)


Honestly, this is exactly how she views the world.  She's definitely her father's daughter.  And I'm so grateful.   The last sentence especially makes me giggle.  Mostly, I let her dress how she wants.  I do, however, draw the line at uncombed hair and clothes worn more than two days in a row.