Monday, May 09, 2016

Month 54 - Recap

My sweet boy,
We took you and Natalie to your first concert (well, it was your first, Natalie's second) concert this month. Zealand Worship, Citizen Way, and MercyMe put on an amazing show. I was curious as to how you two would handle everything because it was quite an experience - the civic center was incredibly loud, really crowded, and dark (except for the stage lights, of course). We found our seats and quickly realized that the empty section behind us would be much more comfortable for two kids to jump around and sing, so we hopped the railing (Team Smith = rebels) and spread out. You switched between singing and telling (yelling) me "Momma! I know this song!!" to flying your Batman toy around.

The only problem I had with the concert was the starting time. 7pm. That's reeeeeally close to your bedtime. (Before the time change, that WAS your bedtime. Now, I have a hard time putting you to bed when it's still bright outside so we've pushed your bedtime back a bit). After you sang a few songs, you told me you wanted to go home and go to bed. I checked my phone. It was 7:45. Before MercyMe even got on stage. You seemed supremely bummed when I told you we had a long time before we'd be going home. You perked up during the intermission and we walked around the lobby for a bit.

When we sat back down and MercyMe took the stage, your eyes lit up and your lid was effectively flipped. The guys you've listened to on the radio and watched on YouTube countless times were now 50 yards away. You danced and jumped around and sang and laughed ... until you hit the wall. It was so way past your bedtime, I don't think you had been up that late since you had started sleeping through the night 3.5+ years ago. After singing a few songs, Bart Millard (the lead singer for MercyMe) spoke a bit about the wonderful thing that is God's grace. As he paused between thoughts, you let out a gigantic, dramatically loud, over-the-top yawn. It was both mortifying and hilarious. And apropos, given the subject of what Bart Millard was talking about. You and Natalie fell asleep within minutes of each other and missed the last 30 minutes of MercyMe's set. I imagine the dreams you dreamed had an amazing soundtrack.

Speaking of God, I'm pretty sure the rapture is a'comin' because you ate pork chops. That I cooked. This is incredible on several fronts. First, pork chops and hard boiled eggs always seem to best me in the kitchen, though I think I've finally found a pork chop recipe where the end result isn't like chewing on a racquetball. Hard boiled eggs however ... those wily beasts ... Second, you give 90% of my dinners either a thumbs-down or a side-thumb. The only dinners I cook that are worthy of the coveted thumbs-up are cheese pizza, grilled cheese, chicken drumsticks, and breakfast for dinner. To summarize, you never eat pork chops, especially MY pork chops. But you did a few weeks ago. AND you asked for seconds. If that wasn't evidence enough for an imminent rapture, you ate scrambled eggs. This is only incredible on one front, being that you're a Picky McPickyPants who refuses to try yummy food on the regular. Because my scrambled eggs? Oh buddy. MY scrambled eggs are the bomb. MY scrambled eggs are the best. This is common knowledge within Team Smith but you've finally decided to jump on board. You gobbled up the eggs on your plate, asked for seconds, then pouted when I told you that thirds would have to wait because I'd have to make another batch.

You had your first bout with strep throat earlier this month. You were a pitiful mess for about two days (and you fell asleep on me for the first time in years - momma heart = puddle) and then you recovered like a champ. You drank your disgusting medicine, you ate countless popsicles, you took multiple naps, and you watched a billion shows on Netflix. Other than the medicine part, it sounds like my perfect weekend.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy and Daddy

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Headlines for May 9, 2016:
  • Prince Harry, President Bush Hope to Change Perceptions of ‘Invisible Injuries’
  • Why Trump's Flip-Flop on Taxes is So Astonishing
  • Ozzy Osbourne and Sharon Osbourne Split
  • Boaty McBoatface Rejected as Name for Research Ship
  • 7 Tips to Travel to the Rio Olympics on a Budget

Sunday, May 01, 2016

April 2016 - Recap

My best girl,
Two ears, one mouth. TWO ears. ONE mouth. I have said that sentence approximately eleventy billion times this month, trying to get you to listen twice as much as you talk. And I have had zero success, eleventy billion times. Trying to teach someone something new when that someone talks more than they listen is, um, an adventure. If only you were talking about how blessed you were to be my daughter (cuz you are) or how blessed I am to be your momma (cuz I am), then maybe I wouldn't want to pull my hair out. But, alas, no. As I'm trying to explain - literally, as the words are spilling out of my lips, you're simultaneously telling me you don't understand what to do.

Me: So the main char-----
You: What does this even MEAN? I don't underSTAND!
Me: Um, well, I was actually in the middle of explaining it, if you'd like to open up your ear holes for a bit.
You: *hmph*
Me: So what main character of the story do-----
You: How am I supposed to KNOW this?!
Me: Dude, seriously? If you'd let me finish a complete thought, you might find that I can clear up the confusion you have - but only if you listen twice as much as you talk.
You: Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.

I've noticed that many of our school days have ended a with "fine" containing about 75 Is which, in turn, ends with lost privileges (Momma ain't got no time for sassiness). It's clear that both of us are ready for summer vacation.

You lost Tooth #6 (the one next to your front left tooth) a few weeks ago. It seemed to go from kind of loose to oh-my-word-pull-that-gross-thing-before-you-swallow-it in the matter of minutes. Thankfully you're not dramatic at all so the whole tooth-losing process was a breeze.

HA. I'm such a riot.

The tooth-losing process was extraordinarily painful for all our ears. You whined for hours about the potential blood ("Yes, there will be blood, but not a whole lot. Remember the previous five teeth you've lost?"), the potential pain ("Eh, it may hurt a little bit but as soon as it's out, it'll stop hurting. Again, remember the previous five teeth you've lost?"), and the best way to pull it out ("No, Mommy does *not* like pulling teeth, but Mommy will do it if you need her to. Cuz she's cool like that. Seriously, do you have any recollection of the previous five teeth?!"). Eventually you decided that you wanted Daddy to do it, but once it was discovered that Daddy-sized fingers don't fit onto Natalie-sized baby teeth, we went with Plan B. And, in this case, Plan B meant a pair of hemostats that Pep had given us a while back. Those little suckers were the perfect - once the hemostat was on your tooth, Daddy gave it a pull and popped your tooth out two seconds later.

It's funny how one missing tooth can change a smile, but you look completely different with this tooth gone. The tooth you lost is the tooth that often gets painted black to look like it's missing when someone is pretending to be a hillbilly in a school play.

The big day finally came. The Big Day. Your gymnastics exhibition was yesterday and it was everything you hoped it was going to be. You danced (and had Excited Feet the entire time - you couldn't stop bouncing your feet the entire routine, even when your feet weren't necessarily supposed to move), you balance beam'd, you trampoline'd, you low bar'd, and you vaulted. You stuck and saluted, you giggled and cheered for yourself, you had the best time ever.

I've always rolled my eyes at the whole Participation Medal notion that seems to be so popular. You showed up for every game? Here's a medal for doing what you're supposed to do. You have no discernable talent at this particular sport? Here's a trophy anyway.

However.

You (and everyone) received participation medals at the exhibition. You looked as proud as if you had won gold medal at the Olympics. So while I'm still not a fan of participation medals in general, I promise I'll continue my feelings about it at a later time. But for right now, I'm too busy being a proud momma watching my baby wear her medal around the house and loving every minute of it.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy and Daddy

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Headlines for May 1, 2016:
  • Trump backers furious over defeat at Arizona GOP convention
  • U.S. Reports First Zika Virus Death, in Puerto Rico
  • U2 Guitarist Becomes First to Play the Sistine Chapel
  • German Artist Jan Vormann Uses Lego to Put Colorful Twist on Urban Design
  • Rescuers Pull 72-Year-Old Man From Rubble 13 Days After Ecuador Earthquake
  • New Photos of Princess Charlotte Released Ahead of Her First Birthday