Month 40 - Recap

Oh my sweet kid,
This has been a month full of funny little moments. Moments that have perhaps given me glimpses into what you'll be like in five or ten years; moments that have reminded me that you are so very three and both fascinated and frustrated by this great big world; moments where your sweet personality stops me in my tracks; moments that encourage me to keep on keeping on with this parenting gig because what we're teaching you is slowly sticking; moments that encourage me to run and hide in the closet because I'm convinced what we're teaching you is going in one ear and out the other.

Periodically throughout the day, you'll stop what you're doing and ask me what certain words start with. And because of the way you say Rs (like Ws), our conversations can get crazy. Case in point:

You: Mommy, what does 'ride' [but pronounced as 'wide'] start wiff?
Me: *not sure which word you're referring to, so I take a guess* Like, 'I want to ride in a car'?
You: Yep!
Me: 'Ride' starts with an R. Ruh-ruh-ride.
You: *laughing* You so silly, Mommy. 'Ride' starts wiff a W! Wuh-wuh-WIDE!
Me: *not sure how to explain a speech issue to a three-year-old*
Me: Um, well, you're kind of right. Wide starts with a W. Ride starts with an R.
You: You still so silly, Mommy! Wide and Ride [again, still pronounced as Wide] both start wiff a W!
Me: *SERIOUSLY! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO EXPLAIN THIS TO A THREE-YEAR-OLD?*
Me: Hey buddy, let's go get a cookie!

You call 'feetie jammies' 'Phoebe jammies'. I can't make this stuff up.

You and Natalie have been having some intense sibling fellowship recently. (That's just a nice way of saying that you two have been like bickering old ladies recently.) One source of contention is who gets to pray first at mealtime. It's a constant barage of "Me first! No MEEE!" It's ever so pleasant. But what IS pleasant (and precious and adorable and lovely) is how you pray. You prefer to bypass the "Thank You for ..." part of praying and jump right into "I wish You'd give me ..." You're three. God knows that. I'm pretty sure He's okay with your self-absorbed prayer.

"Dear God [I so wish I were able to type phonetically the way you pronounce 'God'. The closest I can come up with is 'Goaw'd'], I wish I could have a bow and awwow, an ice cream machine that I can lick the ice cream when it comes out, and a car set [no idea what this is, but I'm assuming it's something along the lines of big box o' Matchbox-type cars].  ...................... [long pause] ...................... Um, and please bless, um, ......................, my family?? Amen."

Amen indeed, my sweet boy.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for March 9, 2015:

• Firestorm erupts over GOP letter challenging Obama's power to approve Iran nuclear deal
• Utah officers say mysterious voice called them to rescue baby trapped inside car
• Fraternity Crackdown: Universities Are Clamping Down Hard, But Do Bans Work?
• Apple Watch Coming on April 24, Lasts 18 Hours on Charge
• Duchess Kate, 8 Months Pregnant, Steps Out With Royal Family

February 2015 - Recap

Dearest Snaggle-tooth,
The Tooth Fairy made her first call to Team Smith this month. Your wiggly tooth was getting wigglier and wigglier - the point that you could literally pull it straight down and it touched your gums. Not the classiest or most appetizing party trick, but it was still pretty impressive. You wanted me to try to pull it out, so I tried. But I couldn't. And I learned something. I will NOT be one of those moms who pull teeth. It made me feel sick and queasy and disgusting. I'll clean up vomit all day as long as I don't have to pull a loose tooth.

I finally told you that if you just pinched the tooth and twisted it a bit, it would probably fall out. You grabbed the tooth, twisted, and all of a sudden there was an itty bitty tooth in your hand. You immediately started laughing and crying and couldn't BELIEVE that just happened. You had a death grip on your tooth as I cleaned up the (minuscule amount of) blood, then you gave it to me to investigate. (Because that's what mommas do ... they get to be on the receiving end of a small bloody chunk of enamel). I had forgotten how small baby teeth are. It didn't look that small in your mouth, but it looked comically small in my hand.

The Tooth Fairy was pretty sleepy that night, but she managed to remember to put $5 (and a Post-It with a smiley face on it) in your tooth pillow before going to bed. You were one happy kid the next morning. I know it's only one tooth - and it's a bottom one at that, so it doesn't even show much when you smile, but you look so different now! And if you say certain ends-in-an-S words, you whistle ever so slightly. I love, love, love it.

In other news, you came to me one night with tears in your eyes and a library book in your hands. You had only been in bed for 10 minutes so I knew it couldn't have been from a bad dream. You held up the book and told me that you had forgotten it was a library book and had written in the book to solve a little maze. You looked absolutely heartbroken. I tried to put on my most sympathetic face, but it was tough. Because on the inside? I was jumping up and down, cheering you on and celebrating your honesty. You were worried I'd be mad and worried the librarian would be mad. I reassured you that I wasn't mad, that I cared way more about you being honest than you writing in a library book. I told you that we'd tell the librarian what happened and I would offer to pay for the book. Again, you looked heartbroken that we might have to buy the book. I said that I didn't mind at all - it was a Boxcar Children book. We like them. It'd be A-OK if we added another one to our collection. A few days later we took the book back to the library to explain what happened. The librarian was so kind and complimented your honesty. He told you not to worry, that you weren't in trouble, that the book was just fine.

I can't put into words how proud of you I am that you told me about the book. You didn't have to. You could have closed the book, pulled up the covers, and gone to sleep. I would have been none the wiser. But you told me. You listened to that still, small voice that told you to do the right thing. I would have paid any price for that book if the library had wanted me to. Because you being honest is priceless. And in case you were wondering, you did a great job on the maze.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Natalie

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Headlines for March 1, 2015:

• Do Obama and Netanyahu Really Have the Same Goal on Iran?
• Officials: Mom Knew Her Son Was 'Jihadi John'
• Like Magic, New Company Delivers Anything You Wish For
• Toss the Cords! IKEA Furniture Will Charge Devices
• 'SNL' Draws Criticism Over Dakota Johnson ISIS Sketch

Month 39 - Recap

Well. We've reached a momentous milestone, my boy. I made it six years and two-and-a-half months before I had to make a call to Poison Control. Not bad, I say. Much like your sister, you like to dilly-dally in the bathroom. For some reason, in your mind, the short distance from the toilet to the stool at the sink (approximately 18") is long enough to warrant daydreaming. I haven't been three in a really long time, so maybe that's legit. Either way, it's not uncommon for you to be in the bathroom for a long time.

A few weeks ago, I went to check on you (after many many minutes in the bathroom) and you were standing at the stool about to put toothpaste on your toothbrush. I'm all for oral hygiene, but it was the middle of the morning, you had already brushed your teeth after breakfast, so I told you that you didn't need to brush your teeth right then. You looked bummed, but you handed me back the tube of toothpaste. And it felt lighter. A LOT lighter. I knew this because it was brand-stinkin'-new less than 24 hours ago.

Me: *looking all around the counter, the toilet, the trashcan - EVERYwhere - for the missing toothpaste*
Me: Buddy, where on Earth is all the toothpaste? This was a brand new tube!
You: I ate it, Mommy!
Me: Um, you WHAT?
You: I ate it! It was yummy!
Me: You can't EAT toothpaste!
You: What?
Me: NO! You can't eat it!
You: Really??
Me: Yes! It's not FOOD! You're not supposed to eat things that aren't food!
You: *looking as sad as if I just told you we had to get rid of all your Legos* Oh.

It's at this time where your well-intentioned sister hears our conversation, pops into the bathroom, and reads the toothpaste tube.

Natalie: But Mommy, it says right here that it's safe to swallow! So he's fiiiiiiiiiine. Relax, Mommy!
Me: It's safe each time he brushes his teeth. The serving size for the whole tube isn't ONE.
Me: *wondering why I'm trying to reason with a six-year-old*

So I talk to a nice man named Hugh at Poison Control. He assures me that since the toothpaste was fluoride-free, you would probably be fine. That the worst thing would be that your stomach would be upset.

BTW: Thanks for nothing, Elmo and your enticing Berry Blast.

In cuter news, I introduced you and Natalie to the movie Elf this past Christmas. You immediately loved it. And now, at bedtime, instead of giving me a simple "Love you, Mommy", you go full-on Buddy with "And guess what! I love you, I love you, I LOOOOOOOVE YOUUUU!" It's the best ever and wouldn't mind at all if you kept that up for the next 10 or 75 years.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for February 9, 2015:

• White House: ISIS Fully Responsible for Kayla Mueller's Death
• Wrong-Way Crashes: Could a $300 Sign Stop Killer Wrecks?
• Measles Outbreak Grows to 122 Cases Across 18 States
• Kanye West Slams Beck's Album of the Year Win at the Grammys
• 'Better Call Saul' debut breaks cable ratings records
• Brian Williams’ rescue plan crumbles as friends plead for mercy

January 2015 - Recap

My future snaggle-tooth,
You have at least five loose teeth (two on top, three on bottom) in your mouth. One is so loose (how loose is it?), it'd probably fall out if you sneezed hard enough. You're simultaneously delighted and horrified at the thought of one of your teeth coming out. And Daddy and I are 100% delighted by your reaction when we tease you incessantly about the ways we can pull your tooth out for you. You squeal and shriek and run away from us whenever we mention a string and a door.

And I've found another reason why I'm glad we homeschool. It was made aware to me that the Tooth Fairy has raised her rates considerably since I lost my baby teeth. And apparently, it's not uncommon for the Tooth Fairy to pay out anywhere from $10-$20 (and up!) per tooth. But that's for the Public School Tooth Fairy. And the Smith Academy of Periodic Learning and Constant Singing, the Tooth Fairy doesn't wish to participate in that payment plan. The SAPLCS Tooth Fairy prefers single-digit payouts. Like, you'll be lucky to get $5 for your first tooth. And maaaaaybe $1 for each additional tooth. Because who wants to spend a the equivalent of a car payment on a heap of enamel? Not THIS Tooth Fairy.

You've wanted to learn cursive for years. The rule was that you had to (re)learn how to hold your pencil correctly and consistently form all of your letters the proper way before we'd do cursive. Now you do, so we started cursive last week. You've written "fancy letters" (your term, not mine) for a while now. If you had a massive crush on a cute boy, I'd imagine that's the kind of writing you'd do when you put his last name with your first name. (Note: this is not allowed to happen for another ten years). It's very flowery and cutesy. And it's also how you think real cursive is. So it came a big shock to you when I showed you how cursive As were not, in fact, written with 18 loops and swirls, complete with a smiley face and a flower. Traditional cursive As are, in fact, pretty plain and do not, contrary to (un)popular opinion, have or need bedazzling. Needless to say, we're still working on As and Bs. Not decorating the letters is difficult for you, but I've been impressed with your restraint. Although you did sneak in eyes and a nose when you wrote the tail (the smile) part of the cursive capital B. Cute, definitely. Correct, not so much.

I'm astonished at the degree to which you both Dilly and Dally. If it were an Olympic Sport, you'd bring home gold, silver, bronze, AND the Thanks for Participating medal. You're six. You don't wear makeup. You don't do anything to your hair except spray some detangling spray in it and periodically run a brush through it. But you're in the bathroom for an incredible number of minutes. Waaaaay more minutes than it should take someone to go to the bathroom and wash her hands.

And you don't have an abnormally large number of teeth, nor are your teeth abnormally large. But it takes you eons to brush your teeth. Wait - I take that back. It doesn't take you long to brush your teeth. It's the prep work that goes into the teeth brushing process that's so time-consuming.

Did you know there exists no rule that states you must have the precise amount of water in your cup before starting to brush your teeth? You'll spend minutes trying to find the perfect amount of water.

Fill up your cup
Check the level
Discover there's too much water
Dump a little out
Oops, that was too much
Fill it up some more
Pour out a bit
Take a few sips.
Fill the cup back up to replace what you drank.

And then ... THEN comes the one woman Broadway show. You sing, you dance, you make wild faces in the mirror. And only after you've sung your grand finale, can you begin to clean your teeth. I'm hoping you lose these five teeth soon, so maybe that'll shave off a few minutes of your hours-long bathroom routine.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for February 1, 2015:

• Super Bowl 2015: Tickets Priciest in History ($4K+)
• Japanese prime minister 'infuriated,' by journalist's beheading, vows to hold ISIS responsible
• Justin Timberlake confirms wife Jessica Biel's pregnancy with cute pic
• Comet Lovejoy Glows as It Swings Around the Sun
• Robot Learns Moves by Watching YouTube Videos

Month 38 - Recap

My darling boy,
Hold everything! Stop the presses! Alert the media! Charles Elijah Smith has knowingly consumed both ham AND broccoli. ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. Dessert has often been a motivator to get you and Natalie to eat a good dinner. Perhaps that's not the smartest method, but, well, we've never claimed to be the smartest folks, so it's the method we use. Up until last week, 100% of the time I offered dessert as a way to get you to eat something that wasn't found on the base of the Food Guide Pyramid, you would say something like "I'm not in a choc-wit mood" or "I not feel like eating ice cweam tonight". I, of course knew that was complete malarky. Because who in their right mind isn't in either a 'choc-wit' mood or an 'ice cweam' mood? Nobody, I tell you. No. Body.

Do you know what it took for you to eat both ham AND broccoli that first night? Was it the promise of never offering you vegetables again? Was it the promise of a puppy? Was it the promise of beating your sister in a foot race? Was it the promise of actually turning into Batman himself? No, no, no, and no. What it took was this: someone you had just recently met simply said "Oh! You should try that! It looks good!" Seriously. That's it. And it worked. *insert epic eyeroll*

I was blow drying my hair recently and you popped your head into my room. I turned off the dryer, looked over at you, and you said "I just wanted to tell you that you're pwetty." Stick a fork in me. This momma is DONE. I could barely function the rest of the day under the weight of all that sweetness.

You threw up in Target a few days ago. You had been complaining that your stomach hurt but, in all honesty, I thought that was code for "Geez, MOM! I'm tired of looking at boring stuff. When can we get to the toy aisle?" I took you to the bathroom a few times, but you still kept complaining. And then, right under the 50% clearance rack of girl clothes, you let loose with what I can only assume was every morsel of food you had ever eaten in your 3+ years on this planet. But, as I'm trying to make a point to do, I found the good in the situation.

1. At least it was Target and not another store that shall remain nameless (but happens to rhyme with Stallmart). The employees were very helpful and kind.
2. At least it was Target and not a gas station. I didn't have extra clothes with me and gas stations don't usually sell boy clothes.
3. At least it was Target and not the library. Natalie sobbed hysterically the whole time. I'm pretty sure she thought you were dying.
4. At least I was with you and not Daddy. Daddy is a sympathetic puker. I am not.

I might send Target a thank you note for helping us. I know this isn't the first or last time it's happened, but I did feel bad they had to clean it up. Later that night, you looked at me and were all "Momma, I don't like fowing [throwing] up. Food isn't 'posed to come out of my mouff." Truer words were never spoken, my bear. Food in, good. Food out, baaaaaaaaad.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 9, 2015:

• Kidnapped Toddler Rescued After Picking Up Cell Phone
• Canine Commuter Rides Bus Solo to Dog Park
• Boko Haram Uses School Girls in Nigeria Suicide Bombings
• Paul Ryan Will Not Run for President in 2016
• A 12-Year-Old Wrote a Letter to Each NFL Team – And Only the Carolina Panthers Responded

Edited to add: I totally forgot about your recap this month. You'll notice this was written four days late. Here's hoping my neglect doesn't land you on a therapist's couch one day.

2014 - Year End Review

Happy you-now-need-two-hands-to-show-how-old-you-are, my precious little peach.

You are the girl who made me a momma. You are the girl who mirrors many of my flaws and the girl who inspires me to be better. You are the girl who leaves me in stitches and the girl who leaves me wanting to pull my hair out. You are the girl my heart needed.

Here are your Top 10 lists.

Top 10 Things You Love:

1. Big kid chapter books (Nancy Drew, Ramona Quimby, and the Boxcar Children are your current favorites)
2. Singing (you get so into singing that sometimes I expect you to put your finger in your ear a la Christina Aguilera and erase an imaginary chalkboard with your other hand)
3. Church
4. Doing (most) anything with Charlie
5. Playing on my Kindle
6. Rainbows
7. Drawing (you say you want to either be an animator or an illustrator when you grow up)
8. School (thank the Good Lord!)
9. Francesca Battestelli
10. Legos

Top 10 Things You Don't Love:

1. Trying new things (sadly, this is one of my less desirable attributes that you inheirited from me. You hate making mistakes and you feel that if you can't figure something out within two minutes, you'll never figure it out. You like the familiarity and predictabilty of doing things you're good at.)
2. Beans, cumin, steak, avocados, rice, and yogurt
3. Jeans ("Oh Mommy, they're just the worst things in the WORLD.")
4. The dark (You've slept with a lamp on in your room for years)
5. Storms (they're magnified by our house's metal roof)
6. Sweating (clearly the apple did not have far to fall with this one)
7. Bad guys in movies
8. Waiting, taking turns, and sharing
9. Dresses that don't twirl
10. Bugs

Top 10 Things You're Good At:

1. Reading
2. Unloading the clean silverware from the dishwasher
3. Writing notes and stories
4. Being too big for your britches (I know it's hard to believe, but I have a mom. Daddy has a mom. Charlie has a mom. And none of those mommas are you, my love.)
5. Sleeping (except you have been known to come back out into the living room after being in your room for only eight seconds complaining that you had a bad dream ...)
6. Telling stories (your flair for the dramatic really shines)
7. Cleaning your bathroom 
8. Thinking of others (you love drawing pictures and writing notes to practically everyone you know)
9. Praying (although you don't usually like to do it in front of anyone other than Daddy, Charlie, and me)
10. Jump-roping

Top 10 Things You're Not Good At:

1. Using your indoor voice (BEING LOUD IS FUN!)
2. Playing without an audience (doing things independently is something you've always had a hard time with)
3. Being creative (And I don't mean that as necessarily a negative trait of yours - you just like clearly laid-out directions. "Make a house out of blocks" thrills you. "Make something out of blocks" frustrates you.)
4. Making decisions (it usually ends with a teary "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO PIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!")
5. Tying your shoes
6. Being sick in silence ("Mommmmmmmmmmmy! I don't FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL well! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!")
7. Thinking before you speak (this has been something we've been working on a LOT this year ... and will continue on for at least another year or twelve)
8. Differential equations (six years going strong)
9. Washing your own hair ("It's TOO HARD, Mommy!")
10. Asking for something only one time ("Mommy, can I have a cookie?" "Mommy, can I have a cookie?" You don't even give me time to take a breath before you ask again.)

This year was a pretty eventful one, my love. You started ballet, graduated preschool, learned to put your head under water in the pool, and started kindergarten (I hear your teacher is pretty rad, by the way). Some things I didn't think would give you trouble, did (swimming) and things that I thought you wouldn't like, you did (school). Both swimming and school involved learning new things, but one was met with tears and bribery and the other one was met with excitement and eagerness. This just confirms that I still haven't gotten you figured out. And that's OK. I'd probably turn into a lazy momma if I had you pegged this early on in your life.

One thing that sticks out in my mind is church. You love church. The kids program at our church is amazing and they do such a good job at feeding, nurturing, and encouraging the kiddos. A few times, you've come to big church with Daddy and me and you LOVE it. You're not a fan of sitting quietly and listening to the message, but you LOVE the singing. And you know most of the songs because you've heard them on the radio/Pandora. To watch you standing up, arms raised out, belting out the words and so openly worshipping our Great God is a humbling moment for me. You are unashamed about expressing yourself and you just look so free. It's a moment that's tucked away in my heart forever.

You are emotional, kind, helpful, responsible, sensitive, and curious. You are moody, dramatic, snuggly, expressive, and sensible. You are hilarious, thoughtful, energetic, insightful, impulsive, and nurturing. You love to learn, you love to be tickled, you love to succeed. You like to be alone, you like to be with people. In short, my girl, you are the Queen of Overreacting, the Feeler of All the Feelings, and the Follower of All the Rules. And Daddy and I are the Luckiest Parents in all the Worlds.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

December 2014 - Recap

How was this your last month as a five-year-old?!

We began sponsoring a beautiful little girl this month. Her name is Joceline and she lives in West Africa. I specifically chose her because you girls have the exact same birthday, right down to the year. So we call you two twins! You've been really interested in learning about her and where she lives. You like finding where she lives on the map and are always amazed at how far it is from Florida. We've had some pretty somber conversations about her. Like how the money we send her won't be used to buy Elsa dolls, crayons, and pizza. "What do you MEAN she doesn't have clean water?!" "How come she doesn't have medicine if she's sick? If she gets SICK, she has to have MEDICINE!" "Wait, she doesn't have a BIBLE? But she NEEDS a Bible!" This has been a nice lesson for you to learn about how fortunate we are to live where we live (a house, a safe neighborhood, a quiet city, a nice state in a free country) and to have what we have (Daddy's job, family, medicine, books, healthy food, church, education). We've sent her a picture of our family to connect her with people who she knows are praying for her, and we've mailed her some letters. You're also working on writing a 'Note-y Picture' (what you call a picture on one side of the paper and a letter on the other side) to her. One day, I hope we'll have the means to travel as a family to meet Joceline and love on her in person.

You've added to your list of future aspirations. When you grow up, you either want to be an animator, an illustrator, or [the new one] a judge on a cupcake baking show.

Me: So pretty much, you just want to get paid to eat cupcakes?
You: Yep!
Me: I like the way you think.

You were sick over Christmas, you poor thing. I don't know what it was, but it sure as heck caused you some serious internal distress. And, in keeping with Natalie tradition, you refused to suffer in silence. You whined and wailed and moaned and cried and dramatically flung your head up to your forehead. Thankfully Bob was here to play with Charlie because there was no way you were letting me out of your sight, let alone earshot. I mean, if you can't whine to your momma, WHAT'S THE POINT.

You got a neat Lego set for Christmas. In my mind, it would take you at least a few weeks to put it together. And the day after Christmas, you had successfully put together over half of it. I imagine you'd have finished the whole thing if you had felt better. Clearly you've outgrown your inability to put together Lego sets without dissolving into millions of teardrops (like you did this past summer - on a set that was probably 1/10 of the size of your new one). I like that growth, kid.

Speaking of Christmas, you are Christmas decoration CRAZY! You love the tinsel, garland, wreaths, Nativity sets, lights, the blow-up Christmas critters, the whole shebang. You've taken it upon yourself to redecorate our Christmas about a dozen times. 90% of the ornaments are now hanging precariously on the bottom third of the tree. It's, um, oh what's the word ... charming?? In my mind, I think I'd like a fancy tree, looking like a page from Better Homes and Gardens. And maybe I'll have that one day. But right now, I'm OK with my lopsided, skinny tree that's full of homemade Popsicle ornaments and gaudy snowflake ornaments (that you picked out because we just HAD to have them). BHG ain't got nothing on that.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 1, 2015:

• AirAsia Flight 8501: Searchers Race 'Against Time and Weather'
• NY Man Breaks World Record for Most Champagne Bottles Sabered in One Minute
• 36 dead in New Year's stampede in Shanghai
• Earthquake off coast shakes northern California
• American Girl's 2015 Girl of the Year: Meet Grace Thomas, Baker and Entrepreneur

Month 37 - Recap

OK. So you've been three for exactly a month. And you've pitched more fits in the past month than you did in the previous twelve months combined. I mean, come on. What's the DEAL?

You and Natalie have been racing a lot this month. Well, you've been 'racing' as long as you've been able to run, but you've been racing where there's an actual winner for only a few weeks. And, being three years shorter (I would get out my measuring tape to find the actual difference in your heights, but I just sat down with a steamy cup of coffee, so I'll just remain seated and estimate [using years and not inches, I know]), you often lose. And it's like a flip switched this month. Before, when Natalie won, it didn't even phase you. But now? It's the most Critical Level of Sadness and Agony, complete with Hysterical Stomping and Maniacal Screaming.

After church on Sundays, you and Natalie like to run down the hill toward the sidewalk. Before this month, you two would laugh gleefully as you ran down the hill, even though Natalie would always win. But this month? You two started out laughing gleefully, but after a nanosecond, you realized Natalie was faster than you, so you threw yourself on the hill, kicking and screaming because she made it to the sidewalk first. It's a good thing we're surrounded by sympathetic, Jesus-lovin' folks (who I'm sure have all dealt with public tantrums), because, dang. It's a tad bit (read: ginormously) unpleasant.

And yesterday at bedtime, Natalie went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. You were finishing up some Important Lego Building, so you were about two minutes behind her. When you were done, you ran to the bathroom and literally lost your ever-loving mind when you saw her standing on the stool, mid-brush. You two weren't even racing to the bathroom, but yet, there you sat, on the floor of the bathroom, in the Depths of Despair, because Natalie got to the bathroom before you. All I can say is just wait, dude, because give yourself a year or two, and you might smoke Natalie in a foot race. (Don't tell her I said that though.)

You spent the majority of this past month sleeping in Natalie's room due to the Epic Yellow Jacket Infestation 2014 (promotional t-shirts coming soon). You loved sleeping in her room (even if it was in a sleeping bag on her floor). She wasn't the biggest fan, mainly because she likes to have her own space, but I still appreciated her being such a good sport about it. I'm a younger sibling, so I get it - there's nothing cooler than an older sibling, and while we may come across as pester-y and annoying, that's the best way we know how to express our position of Number One Fan. You're back in your room now (much to your dismay and Natalie's relief), but that doesn't stop you from coming into her room and inviting yourself to play with her. And again, because I'm a younger sibling, I think that's totally acceptable for you to do.

You've had a finicky appetite this month. Things you usually like (yogurt, orange peppers, grilled cheese) have been largely ignored when on your plate. I refuse to cater 100% to your preferred diet of bread, string cheese, biscuits, chocolate, dinner rolls, bacon, cornbread, clementines, chicken nuggets, and apples - but goodness, I sure wish you'd expand your culinary preferences.

You call your piggy bank a 'piggy boink'. It's fall-out-of-my-chair precious.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for December 9, 2014:

• Torture Report Reveals CIA's 'Brutal' Interrogation Tactics
• Precious Cargo: Woman Delivers Baby on Plane
• Prince William and Duchess Kate Charm New York on First Visit
• Ken Weatherwax, Pugsley from 'The Addams Family,' dies at 59
• Fire in downtown Los Angeles may have been intentionally set
• Wife of South African hostage killed in attempted rescue operation says she forgives

November 2014 - Recap

Well the big news this past month has been the unwanted visitors that took up residence just outside Charlie's room. Over the past few months, I've noticed several dead yellow jackets in his room. I was skeeved out, but honestly, I didn't think much of it. We live on a good-sized lot surrounded by woods, and I have a bad habit of leaving the front door open when I walk outside to the laundry room. I just figured they flew in then. A few weeks ago, Charlie said he wanted to take his nap on the floor instead of his bed. Since I'm not one to argue with the wacky requests of a three-year-old (especially if the end result is a nap), I was fine with it. Not long into his nap, he started fussing. This is fairly normal - he likes to complain about super-important things during naptime, namely his stuffed dog isn't positioned just so, his pillow isn't the right pillow, and/or his leg is sticking out from under his blanket. Critical stuff for sure. I go back to his room to check on him and he's on his side, scratching at his neck. As I'm walking toward him I hear the buzzing.

Does it sound like a horror movie yet? If not, just wait.

Anyway, I hear the buzzing, then I see there's a yellow jacket on his back. I'm a nanosecond too late and it stings him. I practically throw him out of his room and tell Charlie and you (who came to his room to see what the fuss was all about) to go to the playroom. I kill the yellow jacket and go check on Charlie.

I hope you two go through your whole life without having to take the stinger out of a howling three-year-old. It's quite unpleasant.

I spend the rest of the afternoon keeping a close eye on him. He's never been stung before and I had no idea if he was allergic or not. Thankfully he's not.

The next day, I found three more dead yellow jackets in his room. I flipped my lid and called our property management company. They recommended a pest control guy who, mercifully, was able to come by that afternoon. He was here for no less than 30 seconds before he found the nest right outside one of Charlie's bedroom windows. He shined his flashlight outside and I could see 50+ yellow jackets flying around the outside his window. It was so gross.

The pest control guy sprayed his magic dust stuff all over your window and left. I took a big sigh of relief and proceeded to fix dinner. I was in the process of flipping grilled cheese sandwiches (I'm a high-class chef, dontchaknow?) when a yellow jacket whizzed by me and landed on the kitchen cabinet above my head. I thought it was strange, but just whacked it with the fly swatter and went about my business. I turned around to hand you two your dinner when I saw five more yellow jackets walking along the kitchen floor toward me. I remained pretty calm as I simultaneously killed them and told you two to run to the playroom.

If it doesn't sound quite like a horror movie, keep reading.

As I watched you two go to the playroom, I looked down the hall and saw four more yellow jackets walking along the floor and three more climbing out from under Charlie's closed bedroom door. I knew what I was going to find, but I opened his door for a split second anyway. And in that split second I saw a bajillion (more than one yellow jacket constitutes a bajillion) yellow jackets - which will forever more be known as Lucifer's Insects [LIs, for short] - flying around his room and walking on the floor.

The LIs had found a hole in Charlie's room and they were all pouring into his room, trying to escape the poison. They were on his dresser, all over his rug, on his bed, climbing the walls. I slammed the door shut, shoved towels under his door, and suppressed the urge to puke.

HORROR MOVIE! HORROR MOVIE! HORROR MOVIE! HORROR MOVIE! HORROR MOVIE! HORROR MOVIE! 

Did I mention that Daddy happened to be out of town this day? I called him earlier in the day to tell him about the pest control guy coming, but now I called him for a different reason. I told him there was no way on God's green earth that I was going to stay in our house that night.

You, my emotional little doll, immediately burst into tears and dramatically told me that we should just move to a new house. You said you didn't care if we brought anything with us, that we just needed to move. I reassured you that we didn't need to move (though I did consider the idea for a moment), that we just needed the pest control guy to come back.

I called him and explained the horrors that were going on in Charlie's room. He came back within a few minutes, braved the room, found the hole, and sprayed his dust into the hole (and never got stung!). The pest control guy was so kind and talked to you as long as you needed to, to make sure you were okay. He even said if it were him, he wouldn't be worried about staying in our house that night. I laughed and politely said "That's really nice, but we're still leaving."

We gathered up the necessities and went to a hotel for the night. We couldn't check into our room without you telling the woman working the front desk every detail about our crazy night. Marianna hotels aren't hopping on a weekday night, so she had plenty of time to be a great listener to your epic tale of woe.

Daddy met us at the hotel an hour later, and you couldn't go to sleep without telling him every detail about our crazy night.

We headed home the next morning. Daddy decided to go into work late so he can help me clean up the LI carnage in Charlie's room. In my mind, the room would be littered with corpses and the story would end there. Except it doesn't.

We took everything out of his room to make it easier to clean. And then we see that NOT ALL OF LUCIFER'S INSECTS ARE DEAD. Half of the ones on the floor are still hobbling around. They're obviously on death's door but still. I don't care. That they're not all dead freaked me out. Stomping on all the dying ones was oddly satisfying.

Daddy got ready for work and I started the vaccuum and sucked up all the dead LIs. Just as I started to vacuum the rest of his room, an LI flies above my head. I didn't even take the time to turn off the vacuum; I dropped it, ran out of his room, and slammed the door.

Daddy found the (a?) LI and killed it. And not long after that, you burst into tears and told me there's a dying one in your room. I killed that one and I checked Charlie's room again. There were now three more dying ones in the middle of his floor. I'll admit - I had a hard time holding it together. I was sleep deprived (you and Charlie would rather play than sleep when you're at a hotel, and you, my darling, kicked your bedmate [me] all night) and freaked out that clearly the LIs aren't all dead.

I called the pest control guy again (we're besties by this point) and explain that there was at least one LI that wasn't dead or in the process of dying. And that we also found one in your room. The pest guy said he'd call our property management company to get a handyman to come and caulk all the holes in Charlie's room. He also stopped by the house to lay down fly paper along the window sills to see if there are any more stray LIs.

That night, we all camped out in the living room. I wanted to take up permanent residence at Fairfield Inn, but Daddy reassured me that as long as Charlie's door and your door are shut with towels shoved underneath, we would be fine.

The next day, the handyman came out and caulked up Charlie's room, your room, and the outside of all the windows in the house. We all camped out in the living room again that night. The next morning, the fly paper was LI free, but I still wasn't comfortable moving Charlie back into his room. So we brought a sleeping bag into your room and he stayed there that night.

Which brings us to present day. And Charlie's still sleeping in your room! He doesn't seem worried about LIs, so I don't think it's that he's scared of his room. But I think he just really likes being near you. And you don't seem to mind either! It's pretty adorable, if I do say so myself.

Though the other day you DID ask "Um, Mommy? Ummm ... when is Charlie going to go back to his room?" I told you it was up to you as to how long he'll stay. You said "Well, maybe before he turns four." Sounds like a plan to me.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for December 1, 2014:

• US, Turkey reportedly close to agreement on joint mission against ISIS
• No bond for Georgia couple after boy missing for four years is found
• Common Core opposition has more parents teaching
• Man to Donate $14-Million Vegas Winnings to Charity
• Meet the Window Washers That Transform Into Superheroes for Sick Kids
• Family Might Expand for Couple Who Fostered 92 Kids

Year Three - Year End Review

The dimples and shenanigans just keep on coming, my sweet kid. How FUN this year has been.

10 Things You're Good At:

1. Making people laugh
2. Being charming (you're definitely your Daddy's boy)
3. Being BFFs with the toilet
4. Aggravating your sister (you treat it like it's your job)
5. Putting your dirty dishes in the dishwasher
6. Sweating (you're definitely your parents' boy)
7. Knowing colors, numbers, shapes, and (uppercase) letters
8. Being cautious (there's not a daredevil bone in your body)
9. Putting your clean clothes in your dresser
10. Throwing a ball

10 Things You're NOT Good At:

1. Eating veggies (except for orange bell peppers, cucumbers [sometimes], and carrots [sometimes])
2. Remaining calm when things don't go your way (you're three, I get it)
3. Pedaling your tricycle (could be that you need to be taller; I think it's that you need to be less lazy)
4. Brushing your teeth (sucking the toothpaste off your toothbrush does not count as brushing your teeth)
5. Getting dressed by yourself (I think you need to be less lazy in this department, too)
6. Making me dinner (punk)
7. Eating yogurt without wearing at least 20% of it
8. Sweeping (you ARE, however, exceptionally good at spreading MY pile of dirt around the floor)
9. Being quiet in the middle of the night. You grunt, howl, whine, fuss, and whimper. Daddy and I are 95% sure you do it all in your sleep.
10. Sorting laundry (your method of sorting laundry and my method of sorting laundry are vastly different. One way results in sorted laundry. The other way results in underpants on your head.)

10 Things You Love:

1. Any and all carbs and cheese (bonus points if they're put together in a grilled cheese sandwich)
2. French fries
3. Natalie
4. The Weggo [Lego] Movie
5. Superheroes
6. Singing (you like to duet with Natalie)
7. Jumping on Mommy and Daddy's bed
8. People (again, you're definitely your Daddy's boy)
9. Jeans 
10. Construction equipment (the bigger, the better)

10 Things You Don't Love:

1. Baths (seriously, knock it off. It's not funny anymore)
2. Green veggies
3. Bugs (poor kid, you're a gnat magnet. I guess they're drawn to sweaty boys with perpetually skinned knees)
4. Being on a trampoline or a bouncy house with other kids on/in it (you don't like someone else controlling when you jump)
5. Loud noises (we had to leave a basketball game after 10 minutes because you couldn't stand the buzzer and the referee's whistles)
6. Animals (you're freaked out by pretty much every animal; you usually warm up to them after a few hours)
7. The dark 
8. Bad guys in movies (just like Natalie)
9. Getting dirty/messy (we're working on that, though)
10. Taking turns (What's that you say? A three-year-old who doesn't like to share? That's crazy business!)

Oh buddy, your second year was a blast. The Terrible Twos were nowhere to be found. (It does make me a little fearful of Year Three, but I try not to think about it too much). Your tantrums were all very textbook - you got mad, you pitched a fit, you calmed down a few minutes later, and you were over it. When you and Natalie argue, she internalizes it for a long time and you're over it three seconds later. It could be because you're only three and don't know how to internalize things, but I have a feeling this is simply your personality. You're a peace-maker, a forgiver, a friend.

Natalie and I have had a lot of conversations about you recently. Mostly like this:

N: Mommy, how come Charlie is having fun and I'm sitting over here pouting?
Me: (as gently as I can) Well, love, Charlie has made the choice to be cheerful - just like you're choosing to pout.
N: Charlie's pretty good at being cheerful, huh, Mommy?
Me: Yeah, he is, sweetie.
N: He helps me to be more cheerful. And to have more fun.
Me: Me too, kid.

Natalie is very much like me; you're very much like Daddy. I understand Natalie's habit of internalizing everything and being very moody. So when I see someone (like you and Daddy) who's carefree and good-natured, I'm incredibly envious (and secretly hope that your carefree-ness and good-natured-ness are contagious). I'm itching to see how God is going to use you. You walk around the house singing praise music (Mercy Me is your favorite) and you've recently talked about how "God changed my heart" (after a recent squabble with Natalie) and "God changed my cough" (after a recent bout of an allergy flare-up). One of my many prayers is that you're sensitive to what He says and willingly follow where He leads. I pray you would experience the joy of being right where He wants you to be. I pray your contentment would not be determined by how much stuff you have, how many places you've been to, or how many things you've experienced. I pray your contentment would rest in Him. In knowing who you are by knowing Whose you are.

You're the poster child for Enjoy All The Things, and I'm the poster child for Enjoy All The Charlie Bear.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

Month 36 - Recap

Holy superhero underwear, Batman! Save for a few accidents (because playing with Legos > going to the bathroom), you're a Toilet Master. You usually stay dry at naptime and you even stayed dry all night one night when your absent-minded Momma forgot to put on your Pullup. Seeing your little superhero-ed bottom brings such a thrill to me (and also brings your pants to the floor because they're now too loose on you).

But not for long. Because MAN, have you hit a growth spurt or something! You spent almost the first three years of your life eating like a bird (unless you've got bread and/or cheese in front of you - then you eat like a crazy person). And now, you're always hungry. Like, always. And I know that's common for boys. "They'll eat you out of house and home," they say. And "they" are correct. You've finally expanded your culinary preferences to include orange bell peppers, green beans (but only to get dessert), and sweet potatoes (again, only to get dessert). You're still not a fan of meat, but you've doubled your meat consumption by adding salami to the list. Salami and bacon are the only two meat (?) products you consume. I can't blame you, though. Pigs are tasty, tasty animals.

We were (are) all sick the week before your birthday. Well, everyone except you. Daddy, Natalie, and I all had some varying form of a cough/cold/flu. But you? You couldn't have been healthier. You loved the 24/7 TV that went on. You loved the dinner out of a bag because I didn't feel up to cooking. You loved having Daddy home from work (even though he was sick). It was all a big party in your eyes. And despite you having a 'cough' (you can't let Natalie have something that you don't have!), I'm enormously thankful that you've stayed healthy through this. And if you must get sick, please kindly wait until I feel human again. I imagine that'll happen in a few years.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for November 9, 2014:

• Annotate The News: 25 Years Since The Berlin Wall Fell
• Last 2 US Captives in North Korea Return Home
• Teen Saves Cop Trapped in Burning Cruiser
• 2-Year-Old Found After Spending 22 Hours in Woods
• Coroner: Robin Williams Was Sober At Time of Death

October 2014 - Recap

My dear Peach,
Your latest project this month is to create obstacles. Your favorites are the ones that involve twirling and hopping over something. Let me explain:

• Step 1: Hop over my legs while they're propped up on a chair
• Step 2: Twirl 
• Step 3: Climb onto your rocking chair by stepping over the back of it (ER Visit Potential: Through the Roof)
• Step 4: Hop off rocking chair onto a floor pillow 
• Step 5: Twirl
• Step 6: Jump over a pile of wooden blocks (Damaged Feet Potential: Through the Roof)
• Step 7: Ride Charlie's scooter the three feet it takes to get you back to my legs

Repeat until the cows come home.

Another favorite:

• Step 1: Ballet leap across the living room
• Step 2: Fling yourself on the recliner
• Step 3: Frog hop to the TV
• Step 4: Somersault on the floor pillow
• Step 5: Ride Charlie's Batmobile back to the starting point.

Repeat until another set of cows come home.

You came up to me the other day and were all, "Hey Mommy! I have a loose tooth!" And I'm all, "Hey Natalie! You're silly! You're not old enough to have a loose tooth!" And I'm right. You're not old enough to have a loose tooth. You're old enough to have loose TEETH. Your top two teeth are definitely loose (incidentally, 'loose' is probably not a word you'll be able to say when you lose those teeth). In my mind, I keep thinking of how adorable it'll be if you actually get to live out "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth" this year. But given that you and your brother were The Slowest Tooth Growers in the History of Anyone and Everyone, I wouldn't be surprised if those two teeth are still wiggly when you get your driver's license.

You lack the ability to know when it's safe to joke around and when it crosses over into Too Big For Your Britches territory. Don't sweat it, though. I sometimes suffer from the same affliction. I am chronically sarcastic, and I sometimes (or often) forget that you're only five and don't quite have the social development or life experience to know how to be appropriately sarcastic. And again, I sometimes suffer from the same affliction. I figure this is all a natural part of you growing up. You're testing boundaries to see what is and what is not appropriate to say. And I have to keep myself in check a lot. Even though I might find something you say to be hysterical and clever, if it's sassy and sarcastic, I have to nip it in the bud. Because if I don't, we venture into Friend Territory. And that's not a relationship we're even CLOSE to entering into. We have plenty of time to be friends when you're much older, and I pray often that we, in fact, WILL be friends one day. But for now? I have no need for a five-year-old friend and you have no need for a thirty-four-year-old friend. You need a momma - a momma who simultaneously thinks you're hilarious but has to teach you how to respect those in authority - and I'm honored to fill that role.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for November 1, 2014:

• Three Trick-or-Treaters in Santa Ana, California, Killed by Driver
• SpaceShipTwo Shattered: What We Know About Rocket Plane's Fatal Flight
• #BringBackOurGirls Victims Were Married Off: Boko Haram
• Think Pink: A Barbie-Themed Hotel Room
• Marine Sgt. Andrew Tahmooressi freed from Mexican jail, immediately returns to US after strong diplomatic support
• Woman Goes Skydiving to Celebrate 84th Birthday

Month 35 - Recap

Well, my sweet bear, just like Natalie survived her first full month of homeschool, so did you. And you did it with all the grace an almost-three-year-old can muster (ie: not a lot). You were pretty grumpy the first week.

"Why you sit at da table so much?"
"Why I gotta be quiet if I sit by Natawee?"
"I don't wike school. I go pway wiff my twucks now."

But by the second week, you had come around.

"I want to dwaw, too!"
"I want to wite my wetters, too! How you wite a A?"
"Here, Nattie, I put my dinos on your school paper to help you wearn."

I bought this super-cool cart from IKEA that I've filled with homeschool supplies. It's got three shelves on it, and the bottom shelf is full of things just for you to use while we do school stuff: crayons, paper, stickers, some flashcards, and the aforementioned plastic dinosaurs. You switch activities every three seconds, so by 00:00:15 of our homeschool day, you're done with us and run off to the playroom.

We take enough breaks to keep you from getting antsy and/or lonely. Natalie loves taking her breaks with you. You two either chase each other around the living room or climb into your bed and pretend you're in a boat. Your fellow passengers (ie: the stuffed animals) are a pretty unruly bunch from what I can gather. They keep jumping overboard and you and Natalie have the daunting job of rescuing them.

So besides this being the first month of you as a homeschool sibling, it's also the first month of you using the toilet (the word 'potty' makes me want to throw up). Natalie was a bit older than the average kid when she decided she was ready. And just one accident later, she was golden. You, however, haven't been so easy. I don't know if accidents mean you're really not ready, or it's just normal, but we're pressing on. You're usually fine if we're at home and you can be in all your clothes-less glory. It's when you wear clothes that problems sometimes arise. I will say though that you did really awesome when we went grocery shopping the other day. Hopefully the trend continues, because my summary of potty training you? Boys are way gross.

You are obsessed with jeans. Like, ob-sessed. When I was leaving to get you and Natalie some winter clothes at a local consignment store, you hollered to me "Don't forget my jeeeeeeeeeans! Wots and wots of jeeeeeeeeeeans!" (And Natalie hollered "Please forget jeans for me! They're terrible and awful and I don't like them!"). So I did. I got you lots and lots of jeans. Probably more than a two-year-old needs ... but really, at $2 and $3 a pair, why not? The look on your face when you saw them was priceless. It was the same look that the winners of the Publishers Clearing House have. So you wear them everywhere. We've had a few days of cooer weather, so it was totally appropriate. But on the days that it's sweltering? Yep, still jeans. You show your jeans to everybody. Friends, family, people at the grocery store, waiters and waitresses, people we see in the bathroom, you don't discriminate. You're excited about your britches and you want the world to know. And if you can learn to keep your beloved jeans free of anything that belongs in a toilet, we'll all be golden.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for October 9, 2014:

• Ebola Death Toll Rises to 4,033
• The Nobel Peace Prize is awarded to Indian Kailash Satyarthi and Pakistani Malala Yousafzay
• Boy, 3, Falls Into Jaguar Exhibit at Zoo in Little Rock, Arkansas
• 'Saturday Night Live' Star Jan Hooks Dies at 57
• Obama Declares Part of "Magnificent" San Gabriel Mountains National Monument 

September 2014 - Recap

Well my little student, we finished our first month of homeschooling. And we both survived! It's only been a month, it's only kindergarten, and I'm only teaching one kid (I have another student but he's a delinquent who insists that pretending my binder clips are dinosaurs and subsequently making them fight each other is more fun than what I'm teaching. Rude.), but it's been really fun.

I often have to catch myself from turning into a Type A weirdo (ie: my normal self) who forgets the perks of homeschooling. In my mind? We'd start around 8:00 or 8:30 and be done by 10:00. In reality? Pretty weather trumps an early start time. Being out of coffee (which requires an early trip to the grocery store) also trumps an early start time. In my mind? Since you're a sponge, I didn't think we'd take many breaks (hence, being done at 10:00). In reality? We take LOTS of breaks. This keeps Charlie from feeling too left out and keeps you from losing focus. It also makes our school days last quite a bit longer. In my mind? I thought I was going to go cuh-RAZY being around you both all day. In reality? I have. But I've also enjoyed this month more than I ever anticipated.

We've kept a pretty consistent routine this month and it's seemed to work quite well. Whenever we start (whether it's 8:00 or 10:00 or somewhere in between), you start by writing your memory verse. I pick a new one each week, and I'm trying to pick ones that work on character-building. While the Bible doesn't specifically say "Thou musn't be a big ol' jerk to thy little brother", there are a lot of verses about how our words matter, how we can be a good friend, and how to honor Mommy and Daddy. By writing the verses each day, you're simultaneously memorizing scripture and working on your handwriting. I'm all for multi-tasking.

Speaking of writing, you were none too happy with me for insisting you hold your pencil the correct way. You've been writing for a long time and I noticed that you held your pencil kinda crazy-like, but  I never corrected you. Perhaps I should have, seeing that you whined for days about how awful it was holding it the right way. And you were also mad about how I'm making you start your letters and numbers from the top (you wrote half of them starting from the bottom). I heard "But MOMMYYYYYYYY! It's too HAAAAAARRDDDDDD!") After a few days of incessant caterwauling, you're a pencil-holding and writing-your-letters-and-numbers-from-the-top champ. And your handwriting has improved. Imagine that.

After your memory verse, we take a break. Either you color a picture relating to the verse (or you just draw a rainbow - you're slightly rainbow obsessed) or we play with Charlie (or I clean the kitchen or whatever). After the break, we start on math. I'm a math nerd, Daddy's a math nerd, you have math nerd DNA running all over your body - so there was no chance that you'd get away without doing it. Right now we're practicing how to add the 2s. You're good up until 4+2. Did you know such a math problem can turn someone into a grump? Because it does. Bob (the nerdiest of math nerds in our family) has supplied with me with oodles of math manipulatives: dominoes, tangrams, dice, pattern blocks, base 10 blocks, Cuisinaire rods, you name it. I'm using them a little bit in our lessons, but I'm hoping to learn more ways (other than Charlie's preferred method of turning every manipulative into a sword and whacking the couch).

It's usually lunchtime after we finish up with math. Then we read. The curriculum we bought came with a lot of great classic books. I could have added on another set of books for a hefty charge, but didn't. Thankfully I've found most of the other set of books at the library. Either you read or I read and then I ask you some questions from the Reading Guide. This is (hopefully) teaching you pay attention to what you're reading (or hearing). Reading comprehension is a huge struggle for me (that's certainly not helped by my horrific short-term memory) so I hope you get your Daddy's ability to remember what you read.

I never pegged myself for a homeschool mom. I never pegged myself as patient, organized, or capable of teaching anyone. And you know what I've found after a month of homeschool? I'm still none of those things. And that's okay. Because we're going to have those days where we're crabby and we're going to have the days where we don't feel like 'doing' school. Maybe we'll trudge through or maybe we'll scrap it and go on a nature walk. I like the idea of teaching you school, absolutely. But I'm even more excited to watch you discover what you're passionate about (perhaps 'Lover of Rainbows' will be a paying job one day). The Lord has marvelous plans for you, my sweet girl, and watching those plans unfold will be one of my utmost treasures.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for October 1, 2014:

• Army warns US military personnel on ISIS threat to family members
• Lecrae: I put faith in hip-hop
• Ebola Patient's Family Ordered To Stay Inside After Trying to Leave
• Missing Girl Found in Mexico 12 Years Later
• Couple Leaves a $100 Tip for Bad Service 

Month 34 - Recap

Oh, my silly little goober,
You are just the epitome of sweet. When you enter a room, you do so with a "Well, HI!" to whoever is there. You give Natalie a hug when it's only been 10 minutes since you've last seen her. You always sit thisclose to whoever you're sitting next to at a restaurant. You like holding my hand. As you get older, I hope you still hold on to that sweetness. It does wonders for your old mom.

You sometimes forget to say the S on some words. (ie: 'stop' is usually 'top'.) But all we need to do is say "with an S" and you say it correctly. The other day, you asked me to read 'The Monster at the End of This Book' to you. You handed me the book and had this (totally fake but nevertheless cute) scared look on your face, and you said "Oooh, Mommy! Dere's a cawwy [scary] monster in this book!" I laughed and said "With an S, please!" Do you know what you said? Do you?? You got on this sly little grin and said "Dere's a cawwy smonster in this book!" A cawwy smonster. CAWWY. SMONSTER. That you and Natalie have such rad senses of humor (sense of humors? senses of humors? English is hard, man.) is one of my most favorite things about life.

The last time we were at the pool, it seemed like you were trying to get my attention. You were paddling along the length of the steps and I was helping Natalie with something.

You: (hollering) Bay-BAY!
Me: (giggling) What did you just call me?
You: I not CALL you. I was just singing.
Me: Oh yeah? What were you singing?
You: I was singing Bay-BAY!
Me: What song?
You: The Bay-BAY song! From the Cobby Show!!!

Here it is, the Bay-BAY song, from the Cobby Show:


While it's still a shame you are plagued with Nighttime Broken Arms that prevent you from pullling up your own blanket if it falls off, you seem to have been blessed with Nighttime Ability to Always Put Patches [your stuffed dog] on Top of Your Face Because Apparently That's the Only Right Way to Sleep. It seems shocking that someone cursed with NBA can also simultaneously be blessed with NATAPPOTOYFBATTORWTS. You are a medical marvel, my dear boy.

A few weeks ago you came to me, gave me a hug, and said you wanted to marry me. I don't think I've seen you look as sad as you did when I had to break the news that Daddy had already snagged me up. Your lip poked waaaaay out and you were a nanosecond away from turning on the waterworks. It was so sad. And so sweet. I assured you that you'd find a really nice girl to marry. And then you saw the bag of Oreos and our heartwarming conversation was a thing of the past. But you learned a good lesson, my sweet boy. Oreos are always better than girls (except for Natalie and me).

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for September 9, 2014:

• Wettest Day on Record in Phoenix, Flooding Leaves 2 Dead
• Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17 Downed by 'High-Energy' Impact: Report
• Denzel Washington: I want to be the next James Bond
• Harvest Moon Lights Up the Night Sky
• Kate Middleton's Hyperemesis Gravidarum Explained

August 2014 - Recap

My sweet girl,
We knew the day would eventually come. This summer heat has been fairly manageable (and coming from me, that's an impressive statement) up until August. We spent most of the summer at the pool. The outside temperature was warm but the pool stayed nice and cool. And then the heat fell upon us in suffocating waves. And the pool felt like bathwater. We went once and you were all, "Um, Mommy? This isn't refreshing at all. I'm sweating in the pool." And I'm all, "Sweet! Let's go home and eat ice cream." It rained so much last summer that we never once went to the pool. This summer, we more than made up for it. And that we made it till August before the pool water became warm? Not too shabby.

So since we're not going to the pool anymore, I send you and Charlie outside a lot to play. One particular day, you two were clomping around outside in your rain boots spraying some sidewalk chalk with the hose to see what happens (in case you're curious, Crayola chalk held up like a champ. Dollar Tree chalk melted like the Wicked Witch of the West). All of a sudden you flew into the house and yelled about seeing a wasp. Momma don't play around with stinging insects, so I went outside in search of the wasp spray. I couldn't find it, so I went to a shelf under our carport and lifted up a box lid to see if it was in there. I barely get the lid off before I heard "bzzzzzzz". I lose my ever-loving mind and started to yell for your and Charlie to get in the house. I got out "GET IN TH--" before I felt the sting on my ring finger. I yelled at the dumb bee for stinging me which made you and Charlie immediately burst into tears. You clomped up the stairs as fast as you could (fairly difficult to do in rain boots) but Charlie can't move very fast in them (think of a newborn giraffe) so he just stayed put. I scooped him up and we bolted inside. I haven't been stung in 20 years and clearly forgot how badly it burns. So ironic that I get stung by a bee while looking for wasp spray. I'm thankful that it was a bee and not a wasp, so I only got stung once. It took you a good 20 minutes to chill out and then you (in your most dramatic voice) declared "I am NEVER going outside again until I'm 21 or 23."

Not long after the bee incident, you and Charlie were being especially snippy to each other, so I sent you two outside to sweat out the snippiness. After a few minutes I noticed that you guys weren't playing, you were both sitting on the stairs. I went outside to check on you.

Me: What's up? Why aren't you guys playing?
You: Charlie and I split up. So I'm pouting on the stairs.
Charlie: Yeah, I pouting, too.
Me: Why did you split up?
You: Charlie won't play the way I'm telling him to.
Charlie: Nope! And Natawee won't pway da way I tell her to pway.
You: Nope. So we split up.
You: Oh, that's too bad. I suggest you two figure out a way to play together nicely or you'll be out here pouting until dinnertime.

Not two seconds later, you guys made up a game that involved a shovel, a jump rope, and a ball. And all was right for the Smithkids ... for at least five minutes.

You've been quite the strong-willed little tart this month. You only like doing something if it's fun (in case you were wondering, putting your dishes in the dishwasher is not fun). You only like playing with Charlie if he does exactly what you tell him to do (in case you're wondering, Charlie is not a fan of that idea). You only like writing if you form your letter the way you want to form them (in case you're wondering, your TeacherMomma isn't going to let that fly). So parts of this month have been especially trying. And now that we're delving into homeschool, I'm praying even more for wisdom and relying on His grace to fill in the (numerous) gaps in my ability to be a good momma and teacher. You are my heart, my darling girl. And while I know we'll butt heads, it's important to me to be the one to teach you to butt heads with someone in a respectful manner. Homeschool is going to be full of learning English, math, science, and history - but we're also going to take a lot of time to learn important life skills. Cooking, cleaning, sharing, disagreeing, apologizing, reading the Bible, volunteering, pulling weeds - these are also things I want you to learn. And I'm stoked to get to teach you, my love.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for September 1, 2014:

• Ebola-Stricken Dr. Rick Sacra Arrives in United States for Treatment
• Lava Flow Threatens Residents on Hawaii's Big Island
• Joan Rivers Dead at 81
• New Rescue Mission for ISIS Hostages Difficult, Still Possible: Experts
• Great Dane Eats Nearly 44 Socks

Month 33 - Recap

Well hello, Mr. Toddler Bed Rockstar,

Daddy and I have been debating about when to tackle the dreaded (in my mind) Crib-to-Toddler-Bed Conversion. He thought now would be a good idea; I was thinking more like on your 13th birthday (because nothing says "You're a young man now" more than not sleeping in the same bed you were swaddled in). It was an eight-month-long trip into Nightmare Town when we converted your sister's crib into a toddler bed, so obviously I wasn't itching to make this move any time soon. But one night a few weeks ago, I was clearly having a crazy moment, when, at 6:30pm, I was all "Hey babe, let's convert his bed now." Daddy was such a good sport and said "Um now? Well, um, okay ..." All I said to you on the first night was "Charlie, don't get up in the middle of the night. Wait until I come get you in the morning." Your response? "Okay, Mommy!" And that was that. Seriously. No lie. We put you in and you sleep. You stay in your bed until I get you. It's glorious.

Well, it's mostly glorious. You are still lacking the gene that gives you the ability to pull up your own blanket when it falls off you in the middle of the night. You are, however, full of the gene that gives you the ability to whine and fuss and holler until someone who was born with the pulling-up-a-blanket gene comes to your aid. It's not cute at all (despite you being full of the gene that makes you painfully cute).

This is the first month that I can tell you've been purposefully aggravating your dear sister. Before, I don't think it occurred you to continue to do something for the sole purpose of aggravating her. But now you have. And you do it so often, you're acting like you get paid per incident. Natalie builds a tower. You knock it down. She screeches at you to not knock it down. You giggle. She builds another tower. You knock it down again. She screeches louder. You giggle louder. And Mommy hides in the closet with a King Size Twix Bar.

You like singing the ABCs. And in the "LMNOP" part, you say "emma pee". Your mother has the sense of humor of a seven-year-old boy, so obviously she finds this extremely funny.

So since you handled the transition to a toddler bed so well, I guess it's time to potty train you. A potty-trained kid is so much easier than a diapered kid, but a diapered kid is so much easier than a learning-to-be-potty-trained kid. And once we accomplish that, I think you'll be pretty well prepared to earn a living. Go get a job because someone's gotta pay for that gene therapy to implant you with the ability to pull up your own dang blanket.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for August 9, 2014:

• CDC Chief Tom Frieden Confronts Ebola Crisis Cool and Collected
• ISIS Kills at Least 500 Yazidi in Iraq, Buries Some Alive: Reuters
• Riders Stuck on Joker's Jinx Roller Coaster at Six Flags America
• Hawaii's Big Island Struggles After Tropical Storm
• Netflix Tops HBO in Subscriber Revenue

July 2014 - Recap

I cannot (well, yes I can) believe how much you've changed in a month. You had your first set of swimming lessons in June and your second set in July. By the end of the second set, you were really comfortable putting your head under the water. But that was about it ... until a friend of mine we saw at the pool spent no more than five minutes with you one afternoon. After that, you were gliding in the water like an arrow, kicking your legs like a little frog. And not five minutes after that, you were using your arms to help propel you along. I practically had to pick my jaw up from the bottom of the pool. In my mind, I was all "That's all it TOOK? How come I never thought of that?!" You haven't figured out how to lift up your head while swimming, take a breath, and go back to swimming. But when not four weeks ago, you were terrified at the thought of putting your nose in the water, I'm not worried. And you're still really freaked out by the deep end, but, again, that's ok. The progress you made in just one month is super rad.

The power has been going out a lot this month. Nothing major, just lots of flickers. After one such flicker (that happened to turn off Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs - oh, the horror!), you looked at me and said "Well isn't THIS a fine how-do-you-do!" I almost did a perfect sitcom spit-take right on the couch.

You've been talking about homeschool a lot. You want to know what you're going to do (me: "Eat bugs"; you: "EWWW! Noooo!"), how we're going to do it (me: "One at a time"; you: "EWWW! Noooo!"), what we'll read (me: "How to Properly Prepare Caterpillars"; you: "EWWW! Noooo!"), where we'll go ("me: "a bug store"; you: "EWWW! Nooooo!"), etc. (Perhaps I need to rethink my curriculum choice.) Thankfully you don't seem to realize that I'm pretty panicky about the whole process. Being in charge of someone else's education is a fairly daunting thought (even if it IS just Kindergarden), but I assume we'll just figure it out as we go along.

You've been in full-on Big Sister Mode this month. Everything Charlie does aggravates you. Everything he says annoys you. Everything he touches is yours. It doesn't help that Charlie is simultaneously in full-on Pesky Younger Brother Mode. He has been legitimately aggravating you, annoying you, and messing with your things. But still. As a younger sibling myself, I submit he's doing exactly what he should be doing. He's showing his undying admiration for you by being a pain in the tush. I see no problem here. (Aunt KK would be more than happy to talk to you about how HARD being an older sister is and how ANNOYING younger siblings are.) Cuz I can't help ya, kid. Even if you ARE a fine how-do-you-do.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for August 1, 2014:

• American Doctor With Ebola Able to Walk Into Georgia Hospital
• Abby Hernandez Saw Newspaper Reports About Her Disappearance While She Was Missing
• Netanyahu Says Israel Prepared to Continue Fighting Hamas in Gaza
• Class Is (Still) In: Why a Longer School Year May Not Help in Detroit
• President Obama: 'We Tortured Some Folks' After 9/11
• MTV turns 33! Reality has set in, and we miss those music videos

Month 32 - Recap

My sweet boy,

Well lookie who turned into a little fish this month? Natalie took swimming lessons for two weeks, so we've spent a lot of time at the pool. It took you about 2.2 seconds to realize how fun the pool was (and just for the record: you still hate baths, you still hate the hose, you still hate the fountains). But in the pool? You couldn't be happier just paddling around the shallow end, blubbering the water and telling everyone who'll listen that Batman likes to swim. 

The big debate this month is whether to try to potty train you first or convert your bed to a toddler bed first. Natalie was a stubbornly late potty trainer and converting her bed to a toddler bed was a disaster of epic proportions, so I'm a little hesitant to do either. I know you won't go to college still wearing a diaper and sleeping in a crib (and if you do, that's between you and your college roommate), so it's not like I have to get either done this second. But still. Not supporting the Luvs industry anymore sounds pretty rad.

I so appreciate that you haven't learned to lie yet. You tell me flat out when you do something bad. Natalie will come running to me, saying that you poked her eye with your toy tractor. I'll come to you and ask "Charlie, did you poke your sister in the eye with your toy tractor?" You look at me with a be-dimpled smile and proudly say "Yep!" I talk to you about how we don't poke people in the eye (with a toy tractor or anything) and you (of course) ask "Why?" I explain to you how it hurts, how eyeballs are delicate, and how you have to keep your toys to yourself. (I often forget that I have to teach you the proper way to act. It makes sense to ME that you shouldn't poke someone in the eyeball, but I have to explain the specifics to you.) I see the lightbulb go off and you're all "Oh! Ok! I sowwy, Natty." Then you hug her. I make you guys hug after apologies. You've been driving Natalie up the wall recently, so you've given her a lot of hugs this month. 

It has come to my attention that you don't like looking handsome. Your hair can get pretty crazy after you wake up in the mornings, and while I don't do much to it during the week, Daddy makes it a point to tame your coif before we leave for church. From the other side of the house, I can hear you whining as Daddy wets your hair a bit (see above: hates all water except swimming pools) and combs the crazy away. He comments on how handsome you look and then I hear you pout-stomp (you have a distinct walk when you're a pouty-pants) down the hall towards me. You have a look of sheer disgust on your face as you say "I don't WIKE [like] wooking [looking] handsome. No handsome for me." You're the second most handsome fella I know, so whether with crazy hair or a well-groomed 'do, too bad for you.

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for July 8, 2014:

• Convicted Ex-New Orleans Mayor to Be Sentenced
• Hundreds Line up for Legal Pot Sales in Washington
• Dad Charged With Son's Hot Car Death Told Family How to Collect Life Insurance, Authorities Say
• Vials of Smallpox Virus Found in Unapproved Maryland Lab
• 22 Stranded for Hours on Six Flags Magic Mountain Ride

June 2014 - Recap

Oh my precocious little pumpkin,
You had your first swimming lessons this month. The pool is literally across the street from our house, so there's no reason why we shouldn't go. And I'm pretty insistent on you not drowning, so there's no reason why we shouldn't get you lessons. You were super pumped the day of your first lesson and it wasn't long before I realized this was going to a loooooong two weeks of lessons. Lots of things come easily to you, my precocious little peach. But, alas, swimming (or, more specifically, putting your face in the water without flipping your lid) does not. And because it does not, instead of practicing, you simply shrugged your shoulders and were all "Um, this is too hard. I'm not going to try." That went over with Daddy and me like a lead balloon. We don't care if you ever become an Olympic swimmer, we don't care if swimming isn't your life-long destiny, we don't care if it turns out you don't like swimming at all. We DO care if you give up. Which you will not. So we pressed on.

(Side note: the second I saw you give up, my mind fast-forwarded to this fall. I told Daddy "So yeah, I can't possibly homeschool her if she's going to give up at the first sign of something hard. I will most assuredly lose (what's left of) my ever-loving mind if she pulls that nonsense this fall, and I will throw her on the nearest school bus I see.")

We stayed at the pool after swim lessons most days so you could keep trying to put your face in the water. After three lessons, you were successful (and you got a Lego toy as Bribe #1). Then we moved on to trying to get you to put your whole head under the water. I pulled the Mean Mommy Card and refused to let you play in the water after your lessons until you went under the water. On the last day of your lessons, you unknowingly but safely and successfully submerged yourself in the water (you carefully stepped down into the deep end, toward your teacher, while wearing a life vest - but you had no idea that you'd go under the water). To say you were mad and freaked out would be an epic understatement. And after your lesson, you were dunked a few times by a friend of mine. To say you were mad and freaked would again be an understatement. But I swear it was those three times that made you realize that going under water wasn't fatal, because not 10 minutes after your last dunk, you held on to the hand rail at the shallow end and shoved yourself under the water (and you got an Elsa doll as Bribe #2). I usually don't make a habit of bribing you with toys to do something, but if I had to bust out a few bribes to get you to realize that giving up is NOT an option and working hard IS an (or, the only) option, so be it. Bribing you wasn't one of my proudest Mom Moments, but seeing the look on your face after you went under the water by yourself IS one of them.

You've been asking some wackadoo questions this month. This includes, but is not limited to:

• Have you ever been shocked by lightning?
• Have you ever gotten stuck in a cactus?
• Have you ever gotten eaten by a shark?
• Have you ever drowned?
• Have you ever fallen down a flight of stairs?
• Have you ever gotten stung by 100 bees?
• Have you ever gotten hit by a car?
• Have you ever fallen down a manhole?
• Have you ever fallen off a mountain?
• Have you ever broken a bone?
• Have you ever fallen into a fire?
• Have you ever hit your head with a hammer?

And every time I answer 'no' (except to the broken bone - yes, just one), you explain that your imaginary friend Eda ("Eeeda") has had all of those things happen to her. I keep trying to tell you to have Eda be more careful, that six-or-seven-or-eight-year-olds (or however old Eda is on a certain day) shouldn't be in situations where there is the potential to get stuck in a cactus or get eaten by a shark. I mean, where are these girl's parents?! Your answer is something along the lines of "I try to tell her, Momma, but that girl just doesn't listen!" It's a rough life, being your imaginary friend and all.

You've been dealing with a lot of Kid Injustice this month, and you're more than willing to express your displeasure. Waiting your turn? The NERVE. Sharing? The HORROR. Being patient? How can we ASK such things? Brushing your teeth? AGAIN? But we asked you to do it YESTERDAY! So while you've done more than your fair share at pouting this month, I'm pretty sure that it's just a phase. Because you weren't like this last month. Maybe the summer heat is affecting your ability to be patient and kind. I can't say I blame you. Florida Summers make me crabby, too.

You're now officially five-and-a-half. For months now, you've been talking about your birthday, making birthday present lists, and asking about particular decorations you want for your birthday (a pinata, pink plates, smiley face balloons, strawberry cake, etc). You love that you're only six months away from your birthday. To an adult, getting to the halfway point to a birthday doesn't usually register. But to a kid (or maybe just you?), the countdown is on. And your little party planner self is taking the reins. So party on, my peach.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for July 1, 2014:

• Madeleine McCann Probers Interview 'People of Interest' in Her Disappearance
• KISS, Def Leppard Enlist 2 Veterans as Roadies
• Waffle House wants us to boycott Belgian waffles for Team USA in the World Cup
• Metal Fillings No More: Lasers Used to Rebuild Teeth
• Tropical Storm Arthur forms off Florida coast
• North Dakota coffee shop has no employees, uses honor system