Month 53 - Recap

My sweet love,
I bought you a pair of reversible shorts (orange on one side, blue on the other). They're a little too big on you so they look kind of funny, but simply because they're reversible, they've become the Most Awesome Shorts on the Planet to you. Except you keep forgetting the word 'reversible' (which you pronounce as 'we-vuh-sible') so you call them your 'convertible' shorts. Or, 'convuh-tible shohts'. Gah, I love your Ws-as-Rs.

Your sister got to pull Older Sibling ranks and go to a Parent's Night Out at the gym where she takes gymnastics. It's a four-hour block of time where kids eat pizza and play on all the gymnastic equipment. In other words: it's awesome. It's obviously meant for parents to get a date night but for those parents (ie: us) with kiddos (ie: you) younger than five (since ya gotta be at least the wise old age of five to participate in PNO), it meant that we had a Daddy-Mommy-Charlie date where you called the shots for the entire night. And you, my boy, are a kid who's easy to please.

We started the evening dining at the upscale local bistro called Cici's Pizza Buffet. We had to get those reservations weeks in advance. You dined on the chef's special of cheesy bread, cheese pizza, and cinnamon rolls. This meal paired nicely with some freshly squeezed Minute Maid lemonade.

After Cici's, you decided you wanted to look at toys at Toys (backward)R Us. We spent over an hour checking out the train table, the foam swords, and the $400 ride-on cars (you picked out a sweet orange Jeep for me, a black convertible for Daddy, a pink VW bug for Natalie, and a blue Hummer for you). You and Daddy had a sword fight in the middle of the store and we ended up buying two swords (just so we could leave before we got kicked out).

We ended the night by coming home and watching Super Hero Squad on Netflix. You held your sword tightly as you cheered along Spiderman, Iron Man, the Hulk (you still call him the Honk!!) and all the rest of the Squadies.

You talked more in those four hours than I think you've talked in the past four months. It's like you live with someone who has the habit of talking for you and hardly lets you get in a word in edgewise and you've just been waiting for your chance to say something. Oh wait ....

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for April 9, 2016:

• Price of Mailing a Letter Dropping to 47 Cents Starting This Weekend
• Mohamed Abrini Confessed to Being 'Man in the Hat' from Brussels Airport Attack, Officials
• Suit Challenging Cruz Eligibility Reaches Supreme Court
• Teacher Volunteers to Donate Her Kidney to First Grade Student
• 'American Idol' Crowns 15th and Final Winner as Series Comes to an End

March 2016 - Recap

My sweet girl,
You went to your first play this month - you and I (along with some friends) saw a production of Cinderella. I didn't warn you in advance that it was Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella and not Disney's Cinderella (there's a pretty big difference when you're seven ...) but you loved it. You were a little disappointed that the fairy godmother didn't bust out with Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo but the abundance of beautiful twirly dresses and puffy sleeves distracted you from the absence of all the 'Salagadoola mechicka boola ...' You bounced up and down in your seat and squealed when Cinderella spun around and her shabby dress suddenly changed into a beautiful gown, you tried to sing along to every song (even though you had never heard any of the songs before), and you clapped as the prince and Cinderella got married ("How romantic!"). It was the ultimate girl date with my best girl.

Daddy and Charlie were notably absent from attending the play. I thought it'd be fun for us to have a girl date, and the boys had a great time hitting things with tools, fixing Charlie's bike, and dunking chocolate chip cookies into a tub of Cool Whip. It sounds like the ultimate boy date with my favorite boys.

You've recently been having a super hard time not getting your way and I've been having to constantly remind you that you're not the queen of the world.  "But I just want everything to go my way!" "I understand. But the world doesn't work that way. The sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be." This answer does not please you and is often met with sighs and pity parties. This response does not please me and is often met with me fighting the urge to lose my ever-loving mind.

You've conquered two new things in gymnastics. I wish I could remember their technical names, but alas, I cannot. So I shall call them by my funnier-made-up names. You can now do a complete 360* flippy-doo on one of the low bars and you can also do a back-kickover-thingie-while-lying-on-a-box. I am so immensely proud of you. You've tried for months to figure out these two moves. Give me a few months and maybe I'll learn the technical names of these moves (or maybe not ... funny names are pretty great, too).

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for April 1, 2016:

• The Coolest Parents in the World Celebrate a Decade of Wedded Bliss (and Sarcasm)
• Clinton Knocks Sanders Over Response to Trump's Abortion Comments
• 2 Killed After Amtrak Train Hits Backhoe, Derails
• 1st Passenger Flight Leaves Brussels Since March 22 Attacks
• Secret Service agents reportedly catch intruder trying to jump White House fence
• 'Officer Froo Froo' the Drug-Sniffing Cat Assists in April Fool's Day Prank

Month 52 - Recap

My boy,
You've become interested in numbers all of a sudden. It was inevitable. Your nerd genes are quite strong and it was only a matter of time before something science-y or math-y made its awkwardly charming debut. You like to quiz Natalie on addition problems while we eat breakfast, and she's more than happy to oblige. It didn't take long before you wanted Natalie to quiz you. After the second one you got wrong, you wanted Natalie explain why you were getting them wrong ("But Nallie, why doesn't 3 plus 4 equal 34?" -- I gotta admit, that's a really good question), and praise the heavens, she again was more than happy to oblige.

So now you like to ask us math problems and want us to hold up our fingers while you count. This is great and all but you get really annoyed and frustrated when it turns out that multiple math problems have the same answer. I know, right? Rude. You'll ask me what 2 plus 3 is so I'll hold up 2 fingers on one hand and 3 fingers on the other hand. You'll count 5 fingers and all is right with the world ... until you ask me what 4 plus 1 is. When you also count 5 fingers, you glare at me as if I just played a mean trick on you. I tried to explain to you that 2 plus 3 equals 5 just like 4 plus 1 equals 5 and you just look at me unconvincingly and say "You're so silly, Mommy. Can I have a cookie?

I was 99% sure I knew the answer to this question but I had to ask your preschool teacher anyway. "Does every boy in here make everything - literally everything - a gun?" Without missing a beat from breaking apart graham crackers for the day's craft, she smiled and said "Yes. Guns and lightsabers. Everything under the sun gets turned into a gun or a lightsaber." Then she looked down at her plate full of graham cracker rectangles and said "In fact, the boys will probably make guns out of these. It must be in their DNA." Which was reassuring to hear because you, my dear, sweet, sensitive, affectionate, cautious Momma's boy, insists on making everything a weapon.

A stack of Duplos? Makes a great bomb! A broom stick? The perfect gun! A pillow? A grenade, duh. A pencil? A lightsaber, of course. Your stuffed bear? A stuffed bear gun, clearly. To the casual observer, you act as if we force you to watch shoot-em-up shows and have brainwashed you to think our house is going to be attacked by a band of marauding villains so you must be adequately trained in the art of weaponry. I promise we don't. Unless Phineas and Ferb send out subliminal messages about how to turn everyday items into weapons ... but in that case, your sister would be equally as obsessed. Which she isn't. Because she squeals like a stuck pig every time you throw a pillow grenade at her or whack her with your pencil lightsaber. So it must just be your DNA.

Boy DNA is so weird.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for March 9, 2016:

• Michigan Win Rescues Bernie Sanders Campaign Ahead of Key Primaries
• Kim Jong Un Poses Next to 'Miniaturized Nuclear Warhead'
• Rough Primary Night Leaves Rubio Further Weakened Before Florida
• Zika's Link to Birth Defects, Nerve Disease 'Alarming', WHO Says
• First U.S. Uterus Transplant Patient Gives Thanks
• 'Fifth Beatle' George Martin Dead at 90

February 2016 - Recap

Peach,
There are times where I wonder (worry) if you get tired of being around me as much as you are. I mean, it's not like we're attached at the hip 24/7. You're involved in gymnastics and church things several times a week and we do playdates and whatnot, but still - as a homeschooled kid, you get toted around to the grocery store, doctor's appointments, and the bank. You go with me to get oil changes, haircuts, and prescriptions. And then I still have to make sure you're doing some of that there book learnin'. In other words, you're around your momma a lot.

I took a trip to Chicago with a few girlfriends this past weekend. When I left town you burst into tears. It caught me off guard because, well, frankly, I was thinking you'd be excited about a break from all my momming and errands you're neck deep into for most of your days. But seeing those big, fat tears roll down your cheeks reminded me that maybe you enjoy the you-and-me-time-even-if-it-is-just-running-errands-and-other-boring-stuff time more than I thought. Because truthfully, sometimes the sassiness, exasperated huffs, and whininess have me second-guessing this whole homeschooling gig.

But your reaction when I left confirmed that you do, in fact, dig your momma. I didn't like to see you cry, but it did warm my heart to see you care so much that I wouldn't be around for three (seriously, it was only three days!) days. And when I came back, you and Charlie both clobbered me and burst into tears (again). It was such a sweet little moment ... that only lasted for 0.2 seconds before you two greedy little punks started screeching "Where are our Chicago presents????!?!?!?!!"

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for March 1, 2016:

• AP Delegate Count Shows Trump Not yet on Track to Secure Nomination, Despite Big Wins
• Clinton Wins 7 States on Super Tuesday to Extend Delegate Lead
• FBI chief says agency made mistake in early stages of San Bernardino probe
• Astronaut Scott Kelly back on Earth after a year in space
• Possible MH370 Jet Part Found Off Mozambique: Sources
• Lee Reherman, 'Hawk' on 'American Gladiators,' Dies

Month 51 - Recap

My sweet boy,
Just like your sister, I put you on a probiotic to help with your eczema (though yours isn't nearly as bad as hers is right now). I was expecting more drama from your sister at the thought of having to swallow a pill for the first time (she surprised me with a very low level of drama). I was expecting zero drama from you but also zero success (cuz you're four. I mean, are four-year-olds supposed to be able to swallow pills?). I was correct on the lack of drama but totally surprised at your ability to a swallow pill as long as it's safely tucked into a cup of applesauce. You only had one day where you went through almost the entire cup before you were able to swallow the pill, but still. You did it! Color me impressed.

Fun fact - you still pronounce Rs as Ws, but when you say "I'm sorry", it's not a straight "I'm sowwy". Instead you have Canadian accent. It's really cute, eh?

You have a go-to "I'm frustrated" phrase and it's adorable. Whenever Natalie is driving you bananas (it happens on the regular) or your Duplo creation falls over (it also happens on the regular - you're not a fan of creating sturdy bases) or life in general is just hard (pity party, table for one), you roll your eyes and flop on the couch and wail, "Oh for cwying out for Pete's sake!" I have a hard time being sympathetic while swallowing my belly laughs.

You still love everything about preschool. But on Tuesdays and Thursdays (AKA your non-preschool days) you have 0.0% interest in doing anything school related. In my mind, I had imagined that you'd like to do school stuff with us at table on the days you're home with us. I couldn't be more wrong, unless by "like to do school stuff" means "like to pretend to be Iron Man while yelling out random numbers while Natalie does her math". The differences between four-year-old Natalie and four-year-Charlie are too many to count so I keep having to remind myself that just because your sister was (is) a giant overachieving nerd, you don't have to be (yet) (or ever). You are uniquely you and to be honest, it does your sister some good to have you lighten her up. So keep it up, for cwying out for Pete's sake.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for February 9, 2016:

• Trump Gives Victory Speech Following Projected New Hampshire Win
• Alabama Health Agency Confirms First Zika Case in State
• Clinton's Advantage Hits a Campaign Low; She Lags on Trust While Leading on Issues (POLL)
• UAE Picks Woman to Be First "Happiness" Minister
• Music publisher doesn't own 'Happy Birthday,' has to pay back $14 million

January 2016 - Recap

My little peach,
Your eczema has flared up recently and while I kept it at bay for a while using coconut oil and lavender, it got the point I needed to use Cortisone. I also decided to start giving you and Charlie (also an eczema sufferer) a probiotic to help your skin, too. I've given you both a probiotic before but it was in powder form. This new one is a pill and I was curious as to how you'd react to swallowing a pill. Per the instructions of the Mom Handbook (pg. 482, in case you were curious), I stirred the pill into a cup of applesauce and told you to swallow each bite without chewing. That first day you went through the whole cup of applesauce and still had the pill rolling around in your mouth. We gave up, you chewed it up, and we moved on with life. The next day we tried the applesauce again and it was a success. The day after that you only needed a sip of water to swallow the pill after you (dramatically - shock!) declared "Eating applesauce makes me feel like a BABY! I can swallow pills with just water from now on so PUH-LEASE don't make me eat that APPLEsauce again!" Point taken ... but whatever. Applesauce is awesome.

You were dancing around the living room to Pandora the other night and Daddy and I were sitting on the couch watching you. After your song ended, you gave a big dramatic bow and Daddy motioned for you to come sit in his lap. He held you tight, brushed the hair out of your face, smiled a big smile, and sweetly said "Babydoll, I could watch you dance forever." You looked up at Daddy, hugged him back, returned the smile ... and shouted "OKAY!" as you jumped up from his lap and proceeded to dance for the next 173 songs before we made you go to bed. Not quite what Daddy meant (or the response he had intended) when he said that he could watch you forever, but c'est la vie. Such is the life with a seven-year-old girl.

School has been going along really smoothly for the most part. I'm already thinking about August and what I'd like to do differently, so I often have to remind myself to reign it in and focus on the here and now. You still really like math but you still insist upon losing your ever-loving noodle when you get a problem wrong. I've had to say "Go run around outside for 10 minutes and then we'll try again" or "Go to your room and pitch an enormous fit for five minutes and then we'll try again" a lot this month. I can't say that it's a foolproof method for school success but it works for us. And I might just add "Angry P.E." as a subject on your report card this semester.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for February 1, 2016:

• Iowa: The First Test is Now -- Cruz, Sanders hope to defy polls, upset Trump, Clinton in caucus
• New York vet gets Purple Heart 70 years after WWII battle
• Cindy Crawford announces plan to retire
• Zika Virus Update: 36 People in US Infected
• Malala Seeks to Raise $1.4B to Educate Syrian Refugees

Month 50 - Recap

50 months old. That makes me giggle. And it makes me think about the funny parents who refer to their children's ages in months-form even after the child is older than two. "Oh my son? Yes, he's 31 months old. And my daughter is 44 months old. I also have a pair of twins who are 127 months old."

Christmas has come and gone and you are now the proud owner of a Nerf gun and approximately 7,000 spare darts/bullets. The joy that this toy brings you is only rivaled by the joy brought by your bow and arrow. Nothing in our house is safe ... except me. Because "No Hitting Mommy" became The Rule of the Utmost Importance the moment you opened the package. You spend much of your time indoors protecting Natalie and me from the droves of bad guys who seem to hide in our house.

I hung up some paper lanterns to decorate for Natalie's birthday and it took you less than a second to realize they make excellent targets for your beloved Nerf gun. While we were eating lunch in the kitchen, you scooted away to the living room. The next thing I hear is you belly-laughing as you launched a full-scale attack on the lanterns. Natalie quickly put down her hot dog and joined the assault. These poor lanterns didn't stand a chance. And Daddy may or may not have modified one of the Nerf darts with a thumbtack and shot at the party balloons. It may or may not have been a brilliant idea.

You came up to the me the other day looking really distressed. I asked you what was wrong and, hand to heaven, this is what you said:

You: I weally [really] need to find a wife.
Me: Um, like, now? This year? This month? This week? In 15 minutes?
You: *dramatic sigh* I don't know. I'm just worried I won't find a wife. And then I won't be able to have kids. And then I won't be able to be a daddy.
Me: Trust me, kiddo. You'll find a wife.
Me: *to myself* Cuz with those dimples?! I'm going to probably have to beat some girls off with a stick. Not that I'm biased or anything.
You: But what if I don't?
Me: Well, it's okay to not be married. But I have a feeling you will be. And plus, I'm already praying for your wife.
You: You're WHAT?
Me: Yep. Already praying for her!
You: That's funny.
You: *not two seconds later* Hey Natalie! Let's go shoot the lanterns again!!!
Natalie: YES!!!

Dear Future-Daughter-in-Law-of-Mine,  

I certainly hope you can find joy in the silly things in life, like shooting paper party decorations with foam bullets. But I assume you will. Because I assume that'll be one of the first things that brings you and my sweet be-dimpled boy together.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 9, 2016:

• New Iowa Poll Shows Ted Cruz and Donald Trump in Tight Battle
• 'El Chapo' in Solitary Confinement as Lawyers Fight His Extradition to US
• Powerball Jackpot Is Now $1.4 Billion
• Ringling Circus Elephants to Retire in May
• Musician David Bowie Dead at Age 69
• MADD Petition Demands 'Affluenza' Teen Be Moved to Adult Court

2015 - Year End Review

Well lookie here, Miss You're-Now-a-Whole-Hand-Plus-a-Peace-Sign-years old. This has been a funny, silly, emotional, dramatic, and blessing-full year. As per the ushe (uzhe? you-zhe? Seriously, how do you spell this?), here are your Top 10 Lists ...

Top 10 Things You Love:

1. All things artistic (drawing, coloring, painting, etc)
2. Singing
3. Gymnastics
4. Writing stories
5. Reading
6. Playing basketball 
7. America's Funniest Home Videos, Phineas and Ferb, and Road Runner
8. Church
9. Lauren Daigle, MercyMe, Francesca Battestelli
10. Folding towels for $0.50

Top 10 Things You Don't Love:

1. Avocados, sweet potatoes, beans, nuts, Cheez-Its, Larabars 
2. Waiting your turn to talk. The moment you have a thought, it immediately comes out of your mouth.
3. Sleeping in. You're not an early riser but you're not a sleeper-inner either
4. Jeans
5. Being sweaty 
6. Being aggravated by Charlie (which is unfortunate, because aggravating you is one of his most favorite things ever)
7. Getting something wrong. You're ridiculously hard on yourself, you give yourself zero grace, and you feel like you should master all new concepts within two minutes. And if you don't? Well clearly you'll never get it and you should totally cry and pitch lots of fits. Cuz that always works. 
8. Unkindness. You have an enormously sensitive heart.
9. Automatic toilets. You love going to the bathroom in a stall by yourself but nothing makes you turn around on your heels faster than seeing a handle-less toilet. You practically hyperventilate the entire time you're on an automatic toilet, convinced the toilet paper I'm using to cover the sensor will not do its job and the toilet will spontaneously flush. 
10. Untwirly dresses

Top 10 Things You're Good At:

1. Math
2. Emptying the dishwasher
3. Ordering folks around (whether or not people listen is another thing, but you do a bang up job at the ordering around thing)
4. Singing. You can carry a tune fairly well.
5. Drawing. I know you're only seven, but you're a pretty good little ar-teest.
6. Going across the monkey bars
7. Making cards and signs for people (you love making anything from birthday cards to "I'm Sorry Your Head Hurts, Mommy" to Yay, "It's Pizza Friday!" signs to put on the front door for Daddy to see when he comes home from work)
8. Keeping secrets about gifts. You really enjoyed knowing what Charlie was getting for his birthday and for Christmas. I think it made you feel grown up. So I happily obliged and took you shopping with me for his presents. You never once spilled the beans. (Charlie, on the other hand, makes it his life's mission to spoil surprises.)
9. Doing a backwards roll. (I only include this because you tried for months to do one in gymnastics and you just couldn't get your brain and your legs to work together. Then, lo and behold, a few days ago, you did it. And now, you do a backwards roll like a boss.)
10. Talking to adults. 

Top 10 Things You're Not Good At:

1. Brushing your entire head of hair. You're a pro at about 70%. And that 70% is smoooooth. But the other 30%? A family of squirrels could happily make their home in those tangles.
2. Minding your own beeswax. If Mommy and Daddy are talking, you demand to know every detail of said conversation.
3. Speaking Spanish. It's been many years since I took Spanish in high school, but I do remember distinctly that "Fleeb flop floob" is not Spanish for 'I love you', despite your insistence.
4. Deviating from your bedtime routine. Let's just say that Charlie has the nerve to brush his teeth first (I know, right?). Instead of doing something productive and bedtime-related (like going to the bathroom or getting your jammies on), you'll sit on the edge of the tub and wait for him to finish brushing his teeth. You can't budge from your brushing-your-teeth-going-to-the-bathroom-getting-jammies-on pattern without a serious breakdown. Most of the time, it's not a big deal. Charlie the Flexible doesn't care in what order he does his stuff, but there are those times where he gets to the sink first and I walk you through the process of deviating from your routine. I have a 100% success rate and you have a 100% crying rate. 
5. Speaking in a normal volume. I worry you feel everyone has a hearing problem.
6. Reading directions on a worksheet and not immediately declaring that "I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THIS SAYS." Reading instructions two times (or three, four, or twelve) times is not something you prefer. You prefer to read them once then promptly have a meltdown. It's so cute. *eyeroll*
7. Coming up with ideas for what to draw or what to write about. This has been on your Top 10 Things You're Not Good At for several years and it continues to be hard for you. What's funny (aggravating?) is that you want to be fed ideas but you rarely like the ideas I come up with. I'm just going to start suggesting really awful things to force you to come up with something better. 
8. Differential Equations
9. Sitting still on the couch. You are the squirmiest and flippy-floppiest child I've ever seen. "Snuggling" with you isn't so much as "snuggling" as it is "the five-second respite in between position changes"
10. Sleeping gracefully. Arms spread out. Feet hanging off the bed. Mouth wide open. 

Becoming a parent is inherently humbling. The "I'll never do THAT when I'M a parent"-isms quickly turned into "Aw, snap. I'm doing THAT. Aaaaaaaand ya know what? I'm really okay with it." And the whole "My kid will NEVER act like that!" thing quickly turned into a "Wow. My kid can be a little punk." thing. God is so funny.

It's also hard to see the qualities I'm most self-conscious about be front and center in my child's personality. I guess I had these notions of grandeur that you'd somehow luck out and be everything I didn't think I was when I was younger - cool, confident, and easy-going. But God knew better than to bless me with that kind of child. He knew I needed to be changed and molded so he blessed me with a child who mirrored myself so clearly. So the only thing I could do - can do - is turn to Him and ask for heaps and loads of grace and mercy.

Please don't misunderstand that paragraph, my precious girl. You are exactly what I need and everything I want. You are made perfectly and wonderfully in His image. However, I need to be challenged so I don't get lazy. I need to be humbled so I don't get proud. I need to be weak so I won't count on my own strength.

I needed a girl who wants so desperately to understand and master new concepts the first time. Because that kind of bananas mentality is the exact same time of bananas mentality her momma possesses. So one of my many prayers is that the Lord softens my heart to your ill-fated desire towards Mastery of All The Things and simultaneously strips away my similar desire.

I needed a girl who had big, confusing emotions because it made my big, confusing emotions have a partner-in-crime.

I needed a girl who would be enormously responsible at a young age because there have been numerous days where headaches have left me all but incapacitated. I'm able to take a nap and you take on the maturity of someone twice your age by turning off the TV after watching one more show with Charlie. Then you let Charlie spend Quiet Time in your room while I sleep and you two play quietly for a few hours. When I wake up, I can count on a beautifully drawn Get Well Soon, Momma card to be the first thing I see. My headaches cause me so much frustration, but it's only a fraction of the frustration I would feel if you weren't able to be trusted to watch over Charlie while I slept. Even as I type this, the tears are falling because God is so good. He's so GOOD, baby girl.

I pray you feel His goodness and His unending love for you, because every time I look at you, I'm reminded of His unending love for me. And His epic sense of humor.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

December 2015 - Recap

My love,
You're seven today. Halfway to fourteen. A third of the way to 21. A fourth of the way to the age I was when you were born. Dude.

You finally conquered your Mt. Everest, also known as a backwards roll. After months of backward roll-less gymnastics classes, you figured out how to get your legs to cooperate. And it was a glorious sight. I have to admit, I enjoy watching you struggle at something you really want to figure out. Watching you struggle at folding gigantic bath towels is one thing (albeit a funny thing). Watching you struggle at word problems is another thing (albeit a good character-building thing). But watching you struggle at something totally voluntary is something completely different. You practiced so much at home, determined to figure out how to do it. And one day at class, you did. Hopefully this will convince you that struggling through things is not, in fact, fatal.

Christmas is so rad with kids. There can never be too many Christmas lights, too many sprinkles on Christmas cookies, too many Christmas carols, or too many Christmas decorations. You and Charlie wanted to cram as much Christmas stuff into our days as humanly possible. And God bless your sweet little self, because there were many days where I forgot to do my Official Christmas Duties.

You: Mooooommmmmmm! You forgot to hide Sam [our Elf on the Shelf ... we don't do Santa, so Sam doesn't have any Santa responsibilities. My job is just to hide him each night and you guys find him each morning. You would think that wouldn't be a problem. You'd be wrong.]
Me: I know. I forgot.
You: But you forgot the past four days!
Me: Well, yes. That's true. Maybe Sam just likes it behind the picture frame.
You: Mooommmmmm! That's not how to play! You're supposed to put him in a different spot!
Me: Sometimes I have to make the choice between providing you with clean underwear and clean dishes or a new Where's Sam? game.
You: Oh, well, thanks. I'll hide him for Charlie then.

You: Moooooommmmmmm! We forgot to make Christmas cookies!!!!!!!
Me: *thinking* Oh snap. I don't have the time to do homemade cookies. And isn't that, like, a law for Christmas? Aren't I supposed to cover my kitchen in flour and powdered sugar and tra-la-la in and amongst the dirty bowls and messes and twirl about making lasting memories with my precious children? This Mom Guilt struggle is real.
Me: *out loud* Oh look! I have these break-apart-some-pre-portioned-cookie-dough-blobs-and-bake-them cookies! Let's throw these in the oven and then y'all can drown them in sprinkles.
You: THIS IS THE BEST EVER!

Grace. Kids are just chock full of it.

Appreciation. This momma is just chock full of it towards Pillsbury and its products geared towards last-minute mommas.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 1, 2016:

• Natalie Cole Dies at 65
• San Diego Twins Born in Different Years: New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day
• Attorney denies report that 'affluenza' teen had gun
• Researchers Fly a Drone Using an Apple Watch
• Kim Jong Un Says North Korea Is Ready for War if Provoked

Month 49 - Recap

My sweet boy,
Well, your first month as a four-year-old is much better than your first month as a three-year-old. You've been able to keep the whining to a minimum (read: only 49% of the day) so life has been pretty swell. You are still thoroughly obsessed with your bow and arrow (who am I kidding? We are all obsessed with it. It's the best.) and you can't get enough of that dang fart gun. You've perfected the art of when to use it, so secretly I'm high-fiving your comic timing. If Natalie is fussing at you or bossing you around, you'll simply hold up the gun to her face and fire away. Nothing puts a damper on bossiness like 20 seconds of nonstop flatulence noises. You've also come up to me with your hands behind your back, wearing your impossible-to-resist smile, and say "Mommy! I have a surprise for you!!!" And while I sometimes get dandelions from the front yard (heart = melted), most of the time you bring the gun around from behind your back and let 'er rip. It's so charming.

You're in full-on We Must Decorate All The Solid Surfaces in Our House for Christmas mode. You and your sister are like two peas in a pod. Whenever we go to the store, you two will point out all the things I HAVE to buy to decorate for Christmas. If it were up to you two, our front lawn would be covered with blow up a Rudolph, Santa in an outhouse (real cute, Walmart), and Olaf. And inside, our tree would be 12-ft tall and the floor would have to be reinforced after taking into account the weight of the millions of ornaments you two want to put on it. You love all the Christmas songs and the Christmas shows on TV. You have, however, noticed that the weather is anything but Christmas-like. It's in the 70s this week. Yes it's gorgeous, yes the humidity is low, yes if this were as hot as it EVER got, I'd be a happy camper. But it's DECEMBER. Get with the program, weather.

Speaking of Christmas, you like to investigate all the presents under the tree to see if you can figure out what they are. You've already figured out a Lego set (but I told you that you were wrong). You're really confused by the underwear (oh yes, I went there. I wrapped a pack of underwear. [It's part of the Wear for your Want, Need, Wear, Read presents]) "What IS this? Is it a squishy book? Is it a weird stuffed animal??"

You know which package is your Christmas jammies - you're really excited about them. As well you should be. They're the cutest jammies EVER. I bought you and Natalie matching (well, matching-ish - yours are blue, hers are pink) jammies. They have abominable snowmen all over them and the shirt has a big one that says "Yeti for bed!" Not very Christmassy, per se, but still, totally adorable. You'll probably realize when you're older that some things you do for your children are solely for your children. And some things you do for your children are actually not for your children at all. They're purely for you and your wife's amusement.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for December 9, 2015:

• SoCal terrorists likely forged bond in online jihadist forums
• Accused Colo. Planned Parenthood shooter shouts in court 'I'm guilty'
• Girl Who Lost Family in Fire Only Wants Christmas Cards as Presents
• Cop's Wife Caught on Video Stealing Packages From Neighbor's Porch
• 'Star Wars: The Force Awakens': How Harrison Ford Mentored the New Cast Members
• Beneath the Mona Lisa Lies a Second Portrait, Scientist Claims

November 2015 - Recap

My sweet girl,

We put up the Christmas tree a few days ago. It tickles me to no end to see how excited you and Charlie get each time we unwrap the ornaments for the tree. "Oh, I remember this snowman!" and "Look how cute this bear is!" and "We need more glittery ones!" (I'll give you zero guesses as to who said that). And I'm also tickled how it doesn't bother you at all that our tree is on the thin side (when you only pay $50 for a tree, you only get $50 worth of nylon needles) or that your momma has zero talent when it comes to decorating a Christmas tree (deco mesh and ribbon and extra garland all intimidate me). You love the tree and everything about it.

You've been writing a lot of stories recently. You wrote a story about a group of mermaid friends ("A Mermaid Tale") and one about robots ("Robots, Robots Everywhere!"). That one was for Charlie. You're currently working on a series of stories about a little girl named Penny Nichols (cute, no?). In the first story, Penny's puppy Spot gets stolen by a bad guy. Spoiler alert: Penny rescues Spot and all is right with the world.

In addition to writing stories, you've also been doing other writing. Like writing paragraphs about Why I Shouldn't Pout and Sigh When I Don't Get My Way. Pouting and sighing have become your go-to response for everything that doesn't fall in line with what you think should happen (which lately seems to be everything). So I made you write about why that wasn't a good option. One of the lines in the paragraph was "I shouldn't pout when I don't get my way because I am not the queen of the world." Stick that in the ol' memory bank, my girl. It'll serve you well for years to come.

Daddy recently put up our basketball goal and lowered it to the lowest setting. The weather has been really nice lately so you spend a lot of time every day practicing your shots. But instead of a basketball, you use a kickball. This is for several reasons. 1) it's lighter so you can throw it higher, 2) you often miss and I don't want my car full of basketball-shaped dents, and 3) you often miss and I don't want your head full of basketball-shaped dents. You don't like to lose and if you're losing, you'll say "Let's pause the game and play something different for right now." But if you're winning, we'll play for hours.

In addition to basketball, you've also been on a Coyote and Road Runner kick lately. Like, it's pretty much All Meep-Meep, All the Time in our house. You and Charlie can't get enough of their antics, despite every episode being exactly the same. As annoying as I find this cartoon, it has brought up some interesting conversations about safety.

You: Rocket-powered roller skates would be pretty dangerous, huh Mommy?
Me: Yes indeed. Don't ever put rockets on roller skates.
You: Okay.
Me: And don't drop an anvil on anyone's head.
You: Well, sure. That'd be terrible.
Me: And gravity's a real thing. Like, if you run off a cliff, you'll fall to the ground. You won't suspend in mid-air and then have the ability to scamper across the sky to the safety of land.
You: Gravity's totally a thing! Momma, I get that it's a cartoon and that it's pretend. I promise I'm not going to call up Acme and order all their crazy stuff.

Not ordering rocket-powered roller skates or anvils. I'd call that a parenting success.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for December 1, 2015:

• Authorities say University of Chicago threat vowed revenge for black teen's shooting
• Minnesota couple slips $500G check into Salvation Army kettle
• Burglar stuck in chimney dies after homeowner lights fire
• Family of Terror Suspect Insists He Didn't Help Paris Attackers
• Royal Renegade Prince Harry: 'I'm Much Cooler Than My Big Brother'

Year Four - Year End Review

Oh, my darling boy,
Four. Say whaaaaaaa?

While I spend time processing that you're now four, here are your Top 10 Lists:

10 Things You're Good At:

• Drawing egg-shaped people
• Going underwater in the pool
• Laying on the charm super thick. You'll come out of your room after bedtime ("Thou shalt not leave thy bed after thy hath been tucketh inneth" is the 11th commandment) and right before I send you back to your room, you'll cock your head to the side, show your dimples, and say "I just wanted to tell you that I love you and that you're pretty." Ack.
• Emptying the dishwasher. It's the one chore that you and Natalie have to do together. I'm all about forced teamwork.
• Sleeping. I really miss your afternoon naptime (I think you gave it this past year) but you're very consistent about sleeping well at night.
• Sweating. If the temperature is above 70 and/or you exert the slightest physical effort, you look like you've just run a marathon.
• Speaking of running a marathon, you're really good at running. I had no idea until you asked me to race you from one end of our street to the other. And you booked it the entire way. I still won, in case you were wondering. I'll let you win another day but I think it's good for you to know that for now, your old mom can still whip you.
• Holding the door open for ladies. Chivalry is not dead with Team Smith. 
• Being cautious. I'm rarely concerned when I hear "Hey Mommy, watch this!" 
• Picking up lyrics in songs. Thank goodness for Christian radio.

10 Things You're NOT Good At:

• Writing any curved letters, specifically the C and R in your name. Maybe Natalie wrote so well when she was younger because her name is just composed of straight lines. We should have named you HALIE
• Trying new food
• Emptying the dishwasher effeciently. It should take less than 15 minutes for you two to finish, but when you add it the towel fights that you instigate and your insistence upon wearing the dishtowel over your face while trying to find the plates increases that time two fold.
• Sweeping. You might be good at hockey considering how hard you propel the crumbs with the broom.
• Losing. You act like your life is over when you lose. 
• Brushing your teeth. You either hardly touch your toothbrush to your teeth (and just swirl it around your open mouth) or your spit out all the toothpaste within the first two seconds or you spend the majority of your time making toothpaste spit bubbles. It's rarely an productive endeavor.
• Differential equations. Just like your sister. 
• Washing your dishes after a meal. You're an expert at (unnecessarily) scrubbing the clean parts of your plate but you forget the dirty parts.
• Remembering to unbutton your shirt before pulling it over your head. I often find you with your shirt half-off your head (which you gives you a head of super cool shirt-hair), wailing because you're stuck.
• Making your bed. I get it, it's hard to make the bed if you're too short to do it without being ON the bed.

10 Things You Love:

• Natalie
• Preschool - your teachers, your classmates, everything
• Baths. Yes, you read that right. After 3.5 long and loud and teary years, you've finally decided that baths are pretty awesome
• Animals. Yes, you read that right, too. You're still nervous around unleashed dogs but you've grown leaps and bounds this year
• Peeing standing up. Oh, the perks of being male
• Music. Your current faves are MercyMe, Matt Maher, Lauren Daigle, and your mom. Just kidding on the last one. You think I sing too loudly. Too bad for you.
• Publix, because free cookies
• Curious George, Odd Squad, and Mickey Mouse
• Any and all superheroes, but Batman and Iron Man are your favorites.
• Books. Just like Natalie, you have no fewer than five books in you bed that you look at before you go to sleep.

10 Things You Don't Love:

• Veggies (other than the occasional piece of broccoli, maybe a carrot or two, and yellow and orange bell peppers)
• Any chicken that's not fried and nugget-shaped or roasted in drumstick form. I could cut off the chicken from the aforementioned roasted drumstick and you'd refuse to eat it. But keep it on the bone and you're a happy camper.
• Soup. Which is a crying shame because your mom makes the best chicken noodle soup. And you don't know that because you're a punk who won't try it.
• Spending Quiet Time by yourself. You'd much prefer a joint Quiet Time with your sister. To you, a solo Quiet Time is "BOH-win" (boring).
• Gnats. I don't know if they're attracted to the sight and/or smell of Sweaty Boy, but you poor thing. When we're outside, your face is swarming with gnats.
• Ice cream - but strangely enough, only on days I'm serving something for dinner that you don't like (because no dessert for those who don't eat dinner). Amazingly though, you decide to like it again the next night when I serve something for dinner you DO like
• Taking turns. Thankfully you're getting better, but there are still times when you and Natalie have to take turns and you melt down into a sobby, whiny puddle.
• Getting your hair cut. I mean, you don't *hate* it, and you're usually excited about it before it happens. But once you sit in the chair, you become the quietest, most sullen kid on the planet.
• Going to the bathroom if it wasn't your idea. "I don't WAAAAAAAANT to pee! I don't HAAAAAAAAAVE to pee! I don't LIIIIIIIIKE to pee!"
• Being bossed around by Natalie. For the record, neither do I.

I've always said that I love each new stage more than the previous:

• sitting up > the newborn lump phase
• crawling > immobile
• walking > crawling
• talking > not talking
• twos > ones

and so on

Your twos were pretty mild compared to the wild banshee twos that your dear sister experienced. Your threes, however, were a little less mild. You cried more this past year than you had in all your other years combined. You cried over e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. But still, even with all that catterwalling, I liked your threes more than twos. Your personality exploded this year (amidst all the sobbing, of course) and I loved having a front row seat. You've always been a pretty affectionate kid but you really laid it on thick this year. Practically every hug you give is a gigantic bear hug. Strangers at the grocery store are often on the receiving end of your dimpled-smile-and-wave combo. You surprise Natalie and me with random kisses throughout the day. You like holding my hand. All of that adds up to one very full Mommy heart.

For a consistently cheerful boy, you are also consistently grumpy (and often sweaty, but that's neither here nor there) when you wake up in the morning. (And on the flip side, your feel-all-the-feelings sister wakes up cheerfully without exception.) You stumble out into the living room wearing a furrowed brow and pouty lips and crawl into my lap for a snuggle. Your morning grumpiness is usually short-lived, however, as talks of yummy breakfast food can bring anyone out of their early morning funk. [I'd like to add that if a certain boy would eat dinner that a certain momma works very hard to prepare, the boy might not be so grumpy the next morning as he would not have gone to bed with just water in his belly. Just a thought.]

I confess that I have become accustomed to your sweet personality, and I've neglected to be consistent in my prayers for you. It's not uncommon to forget to pray when things (ie: you) are going well. One of my greatest privileges is to pray for you and Natalie, and I've slacked off a bit with you. But I'm going on the record to say that will change because you need a momma who prays for you. Prayers to protect you, to guide you, to draw you closer to Him. Prayers to heal you, to encourage you, to remind you who you are (and Whose you are). And maybe, just maybe, prayers that you'll eat your dinner.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

Month 48 - Recap

My dearest Bear,
You're FOUR! Yay!

In keeping with being in a gigantic nerd family (you're welcome, by the way. Or is it, I'm sorry? Eh, either way.), you've become fascinated by Rube Goldberg videos on YouTube. You and Natalie could spend hours watching them all. During Quiet Time the other day, you made one of your own. You (or Natalie) tied one end of your yo-yo string onto the handle of one of your dresser drawers. You tied the other end of the string to the handle of your closet door. When you closed your closet, your drawer slid open. The look on your face was priceless. Also, you pronounce Rube Goldberg like "Rude Goldbird". So now I'm picturing a bunch of YouTube videos of a gold-colored bird making unkind gestures at me with his wing and calling me names.

It's become glaringly obvious to me over the past few months that we have a problem. Well, you have a problem ... and that is that you don't like hanging out in your jammies. You want to get dressed as soon as you wake up. This just baffles my jammie-loving self to no end. How can you NOT like jammies? They're God's gift to the clothing industry. It's as if He said "To balance out this world that's full of buttons, snaps, clasps, and zippers, I will also gift to you a wonderful assortment of elastic waistbanded cottony goodness." Now sometimes the clothes you pick are the identical twin to jammies (exercise shorts and t-shirt) but sometimes you actively seek out a plethora of buttons and zippers as opposed to staying in your elasticky dinosaur-clad cotton delights. Now I totally appreciate this on the days we have to be out of the house before noon. I rarely have to tell you to get dressed. But on the wonderfully rainy days where we have exactly zero plans outside of the house, Natalie and I could hang out in jammies all the livelong day. Because why wouldn't you? But for some reason, the idea does not appeal to you. And I am flabbergasted.

We had your birthday party yesterday. This was the first year we had a 'real' birthday party for you, which means, of course, because of who I am, I was a mess of panicky nerves because entertaining and party-throwing are so far out of my comfort zone. But God is gracious and you are sweet - you loved my feeble attempt at decorating, you were so appreciative of the non-Pinterest-worthy racecar cake that I made, and you were tickled by the picture collage I put together ("Look at me, Momma! I was such a cute baby!"). You finally got your heart's desire - a bow and arrow. After one shot, Daddy and I agreed that we have to go back to the store and buy three more. Cuz Team Smith is gonna throw down with a Bow and Arrow competition. You also got a dump truck (that Natalie picked out herself), a train (a Hogwarts Express ... BOOM), a Lego Batman shirt (cuz, duh), and a bike (brand new from a consignment sale!). All of those presents were great, no doubt. But the one you love the most? The one you played with for hours, carried around the entire afternoon and put on your bedside table at night so it'll be close to you? The one that Uncle Mike bought you because he knew it'd drive me bananas? A Minion fart gun. Ah yes, you are now the proud owner of a digital Whoopie cushion. Uncle Mike and Aunt KK even included extra batteries! In case the original ones run out! We have extra! So awesome! *eyeroll*

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for November 9, 2015:

• At least 1 reported dead, 2 wounded in subway shooting near NYC's Penn Station
• University of Missouri faculty call for class walkout amid protests, football team boycott
• Obama, Netanyahu Look to Mend Fractured Relationship
• Could Drone Delivery Really Take Off? Experts Weigh In
• Georgia Cop Helps Fallen Runner Finish Half-Marathon

October 2015 - Recap

My sweet girl,
We've been doing this homeschooling gig for over 14 months and it's taken this long for someone to ask me why you weren't in school. We were at Winn Dixie a few weeks ago and an elderly lady (I only include this description because I don't believe homeschooling is as understood or accepted by grandparent-aged folks as it is by younger folks) looked at you. Then looked back at me. Then looked at you again. Then narrowed her eyes and asked "Why isn't she in school?" [I assume she thought that because you didn't look sick and I clearly wasn't dressed for an office job (unless some company's dress code is non-excercised-in exercise shorts and a t-shirt?) that there had to be some strange reason why you weren't in school]. I smiled at her and told her I homeschooled you. She looked a little confused, almost like she couldn't decide whether to respond with a "How nice" or an "I'm sorry." Instead, she just said "Well ... ok then." I laughed (on the inside, of course) and you and I walked out of the store, headed to spend Girl Time (the time after school is done and before we pick Charlie up from preschool) at the bookstore. You may not be in 'regular' school, my peach, but what we do works for us. And I'm tickled to get to spend quality time with you.

I read something by Lysa TerKeurst a few years ago about things she always prays for her children. One of them was "I pray they always get caught making the wrong decisions." I liked that. I liked that it wasn't "I pray they won't make wrong decisions", because let's be for real. You'll make wrong decisions. I'm guessing you'll make plenty of them. But I want you to get caught doing them so that they won't be done in secret, won't be kept from Daddy and me, won't give you a false sense of security that comes from unconfessed sins. So I've been praying that prayer over you and Charlie for a while now, and it paid off last week. I had been playing with Charlie when he quickly walked off to find something. Right then, I overheard you telling something to somebody that you had no business saying. No business at all. Ten years ago, I would have chalked it up to a coincidence. Now I know it was the Lord answering my prayer. It was a great (and of course teary) teachable moment. Moments like this are a huge encouragement to me as someone who questions every parenting move she makes.

You were sick over Halloween. I'm so grateful that neither you nor Charlie get sick often, particularly because the level of whininess when you're sick is off the charts. You had a fever and had zero energy. I knew you must have felt bad because you didn't even fuss when Charlie got on his costume to go trick-or-treating with Daddy. You just lifted your head up from my lap, half-smiled at Batman, then laid your head back down. I put the bowl of candy on our front porch with a note that said "Please don't ring the doorbell - our daughter is sick" so I wouldn't have to asnwer the door. There are some sweet kids in our neighborhood because 1) I heard some of them comment on how sad it was that you were sick on Halloween and 2) there was still candy left at the end of the night. So there wasn't a kid who dumped the whole bowl into his bag. Charlie brought back a pretty good haul and made sure you saw there was some pink Starbursts for you. You've got a sweet brother. And he has an amazing sister.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for November 1, 2015:

• Republican Campaigns Lay Out Debate Demands
• Metrojet Crash: What Could Cause a Plane to Break Up in Midair?
• Bernie Sanders Spends Over $2 Million on First TV Ad
• Royals Beat Mets, 7-2, to Win First World Series in 30 Years
• Ex-Senator, 'Law & Order' Actor Fred Thompson Dies
• Chipotle-Linked E. Coli Outbreak: 'Jump in Cases' Expected

Month 47 - Recap

My sweet boy,
You, sir, are continuing to take the role as Resident Smith Family Picky Eater very seriously. You're now to the point where you ask me what we're having for dinner ... while you're eating breakfast. There are several possibilities why you ask this question.

1. You're naturally curious.
2. You want to spend all day in anticipation of the culinary magic I'll be serving.
3. You need to make sure you eat all your lunch and prepare for a dessert-less evening because I'm serving neither grilled cheese nor cheese pizza.

I'll give you zero guesses as to which one is correct.

You even go so far as to tell me "Well, Mommy, I've decided that I don't like ice cweam today. So it's no big deal if I don't get any dee-zuht." And miraculously, you suddenly start liking ice cream again when I serve pizza for dinner.

You're starting to draw people. And in three-year-old fashion, you specialize in the toothpicks-sticking-out-of-an-egg approach. It's a good thing my self-worth isn't wrapped up in how you draw me. Cuz ouch, man.

You like to talk about what you want to be when you grow up. First it was a superhero (like most little boys, I imagine). But Natalie the Realist burst your bubble and informed you that superheroes aren't real. You were seriously bummed but she redeemed herself by listing all the occupations that are like superheroes. None of those really appealed to you (probably because those occupations don't include a cape, a rad car, and/or the ability to fly). So now you've decided that you want to be the lead singer of the Newsboys. I hope Michael Tait is ready for a run for his money in 20-something years.

You always want me to put you to bed and Natalie always wants Daddy. And recently, the four of us have started racing to your respective bedrooms at night. It's a guaranteed way to get you two to temporarily forget that you're going to bed and instead focus on winning. At whatever cost. Oh yes, we sometimes play dirty. Sometimes Daddy tries to block the entrance to your bedroom. Or I'll sit (gently) on Natalie on the couch to give you a head start to your room. Or I'll scoop you up immediately after our family prayer and run to your bedroom before Daddy and Natalie know what hit them.

But recently, you fall apart if Daddy and Natalie get to her room before you and I get to your room. You burst into tears and start yelling how it's not fair that we lost. So now The Great Bedroom Race is on hiatus until we're able to teach you the right way to lose. Losing is inevitable but there are ways to lose that don't involve such high decibels. Hopefully you'll figure this out soon so that we can get back to playing. Because there's no better way to end my day then by sitting on your sister to win a game.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for October 9, 2015:

• Next man up? House GOP pushes reluctant Ryan to seek speaker's chair
• One dead, three hurt in shooting at Northern Arizona University
• 'We are so relieved': Missing king cobra snake found under dryer near Orlando
• Nobel Peace Prize awarded to Tunisian democracy group
• Think Your Commute Is Bad? Try 50 Lanes of Beijing Traffic
• GM Fined $900M Over Faulty Ignition Switches

September 2015 - Recap

My darling girl,
You started gymnastics this month, and you couldn't be any more excited if I paid you in cupcakes to go. There are several classes offered throughout the week, and we can go to one or several of them. For now, we're sticking with once a week. And it's in the early afternoon, so your class is comprised of six cute little homeschooled girls. You knew two of the girls already from our homeschool group so that made you a little less nervous. The class is an hour long ("a super boh-wing [boring] hour," according to Charlie) and your teacher keeps you working the entire hour. You were drenched in sweat after your last class, partly because you were introduced to the heinous world of sit-ups. "What are those, Momma?? My friend was pushing on my feet and I had to sit up without using my arms. I mean, can you believe that?!" I immediately flashed back to elementary school PE and those fitness tests (that I consistently failed. Being inflexible with zero upper body strength and zero endurance doesn't equate to a successful fitness test.)

We've been having a lot (like, a LOT) of conversations about listening more and talking less. You know, the whole "God gave you two ears and one mouth for a reason. Listen twice as much as you talk" thing. It doesn't seem to have sunk in quite yet though. You seem very dissatisfied with simply sitting and listening and not being a part of every single conversation that goes on in our house. If Daddy and I are talking, you interrupt and want to know what we're talking about. If Charlie and I are doing something, you interrupt and want to know what we're doing. If I'm on the phone, you wave your hands wildly around to get my attention so I'll tell you who I'm talking to. It's as if it physically pains you to hear something but not be directly involved in in. So we'll continue to work on it. (And frankly I'm surprised I typed out this paragraph sans interruption.)

You're still really enjoying school (thank you, Jesus). I'm fascinated by watching you work out problems. Math seems to come fairly natural to you (your nerd DNA is clearly showing itself). Manipulatives (Cuisinaire rods, base 10 blocks, pattern blocks) have worked wonders for you. You still work too fast and make silly mistakes, and I have to often tell you "Listen, kid. You're the only student in this here school. If you take 10 minutes to solve a problem, you'll be the fastest. If you take 1 hour to solve a problem, you'll still be the fastest. So stop rushing through things to show me how fast (and often incorrect) you can do things."

You love having Girl Time while Charlie's at preschool, so after school on those days, your first question is always "So! What fun girly thing do you think we should do?" Sometimes we make something pink and princess-y out of your Legos, sometimes we go to Hobby Lobby and look at all the pretty fall decorations.

Funny note - you walked into Hobby Lobby and we're all "CHRISTMAS decorations? They have CHRISTMAS decorations out? It's only SEPTEMBER!" So I got to be all "Oh honey, Hobby Lobby puts out Christmas decorations in May. If not sooner." 

You're convinced we should decorate our entire house (inside and outside) for every holiday. I broke it to you gently that however fun decorating is, it's expensive and impractical to do it for every holiday. But since I'm a sucker for fall decorations, we came out of the store with bags of little pumpkins, vases, and fall flowers. We've also checked out some local boutiques ("Oooh, Mommy, Charlie would HATE this store! But I LOVE it!!") and admired their assortment of monogrammed dresses, monogrammed purses, monogrammed hats, monogrammed scarves, monogrammed cups, monogrammed napkins, and monogrammed monogram machines (just kidding on the last one. But maybe not.)

"Mommy, is everything monogrammed?"
"We're in south Alabama, love, so yes. Don't stay still for too long or your forehead might get plastered with NSJ."

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for October 1, 2015:

• Umpqua Community College Shooting Leaves at Least 10 Dead, Police Say
• Hurricane Joaquin at Category 4
• 14 Dead After US Military Plane Crashes in Afghanistan
• FBI Director Confirming Inquiry Into Clinton Email Setup
• College Student Writes Heartbreaking Note to Family After Failing to Save Son

Month 46 - Recap

Why hello there, you preschooler, you.
You started K3 preschool last month. We met your teacher a few days before you started, and I immediately liked her. She clearly has a heart for three-year-olds, and God bless her for it. You loved checking out your new classroom, but you made sure I didn't wander too far from you. You wanted me to sit beside you (in chairs meant for a three-year-old ... not a six-foot-tall thirty-four-year-old) while you explored the buckets of trains, cars, dinosaurs, and magnetic blocks. There was a neat dress-up area, a sweet tool bench, and lots of books. It was pretty much everything you love in the world.

You were shy when we met your teacher and you clung to my leg like a koala bear. I warned her that you might have a hard time leaving my leg on the first day. She assured me that there would be extra volunteers on hand to pry nervous kiddos of their mommas' legs. I did a mental whew as we left the classroom. You've had some fairly rough weeks being dropped off at Sunday School recently, so I was prepared for a Super Sobfest of Epic Proportions at your first preschool drop-off. Just when I think I have you (or your sister) figured, you go and throw me a curve ball. This particular curve ball was you walking up to your teacher on the first day, giving her a big hug, and waving to me as you walked into your classroom. I was floored. And I may or may not have been a little teary watching you put away your bag then sit down at the table to work on a puzzle. You looked so comfortable, so NOT nervous, so grown.

I'm not much of a baby person. I mean, I like babies - I like their inherent cuteness and smushiness. But when you were a baby, I didn't really mourn each passing stage as you learned new things because each stage has been more fun than the previous. I don't want to keep you a baby forever (even though you were a delightful baby); I love that you're growing up. And watching you in your new preschool made me feel so happy.

You've handled drop-off like a champ every day. You give me a kiss, give your teacher a hug, then run into class. And every day when I pick you up, you're drenched in sweat and have a big smile on your face. It can't get much better than that.

Speaking of kisses, you've decided your preferred method of kissing is with a fish face. You have an impressive fish face and an even more impressive kiss noise. Your Fish Kisses are indeed a treat for the eyes and the ears.

You and Daddy like to wrestle. You two punch each other (you, as hard as you can; Daddy, not so much), blow raspberries in each other's face, and make disgusting boy noises. It baffles me how this could ever be enjoyable, but you two have the best time. Daddy and I have (hopefully) made it clear that you're only allowed to play like that with him. In other words, Momma don't play that. I'm happy to be the booboo-kisser, the lunch-fixer, and the tickle-giver. But getting spit at in my face by a be-dimpled boy is infinitely far down on my list of Things That Sound Fun.

Getting one of your Fish Kisses is at the top.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for September 9, 2015:

• Clinton offers first apology for private email server
• Refugees Left Behind: Millions of Syrians Flee, Few Reach Europe
• Sofia Vergara, Kaley Cuoco tied for highest paid TV actress
• Queen Elizabeth II becomes longest-reigning monarch in Britain's history
• Kentucky clerk battle fuels debate over religious accommodation laws

August 2015 - Recap

My darling first grader,
You now have your first few weeks of first grade tucked safely into your (theoretical) belt. And I had my first day of failing to prepare you what the first day of school would be like tucked safely into my (also theoretical) belt. I completely forgot to warn you prior to the first day that the first week or two of school is always spent in review. I distinctly remember this when I was in school, and I totally forgot to relay that information to you ... until you had your first meltdown. But by then it was too late.

Most of your first day was you spent in tears because you couldn't remember ANYthing (not true), that you'd NEVER remember what you learned in kindergarten (also not true), and that you'd NEVER be able to learn ANYthing new EVER AGAIN (I admire the dramatics, but again, still not true). It was an ugly day for sure. I toyed with the idea of putting you in public school for Day #2 because CLEARLY I am not cut out to be a homeschool mom if I can't even BOTHER to warn my child that the first week or two is going to a lot of frustrating review and all I did was make it WORSE when you were so upset.

It's no wonder where your flair for the dramatic comes from.

I stuck it out and thankfully Day #2 (and most other subsequent days) went great. You start out every day by writing your weekly memory verse. In addition to memorization, this helps you work on your handwriting (I think pretty handwriting - particularly cursive - is such a lost art, so I'm probably more of a weirdo about handwriting than most people) and learn new vocabulary words. I also just think it's a great way to start our day. Then you work on your math - sometimes there's an activity to go along with what you're working on, other times it's just a page or two in your workbook. The math is still a review at this point so you usually finish your work pretty quickly. I've looked ahead in your book and you're coming up on things you haven't learned yet, so I'm already preparing for teeth gnashing.

After math, we read about pilgrims and pioneers. Your curriculum does a great job at lining up the stories we read with the weekly memory verse, so you're able to connect the two really well. There are usually one or two science experiments each week that also go along with what we've read about pilgrims and pioneers. (SEE, Karen??? We do science!)

We usually finish school by curling up on the couch and reading. This curriculum introduces nine different genres, providing a book or two for each genre. We just finished up reading biographies of Helen Keller and Louis Braille (did you know that Helen Keller was at Louis Braille's funeral? I didn't, until a few days ago.) You were fascinated by those stories ... after we read them multiple times. Alas, you seem to have inherited your poor reading comprehension from your dear mother. So I'm learning to stop every paragraph or two and ask you questions about what I just read. Sometimes you give the right answer. Other times you were zoning out, and try your hardest to come up with a good answer.

Me: *finishing up a paragraph* So what was Helen Keller just do?
You: *clearly caught daydreaming* Oh! Um ... She was ... yes, she was praying to God to help her be kind to the people around her and follow His plan for her life.
Me: *trying not to snort* Well, I'm sure she did pray to God to help her be kind to the people around her and follow His plan for her life. However, what I just read talked about how she learned to swim.
You: *still trying to convince me you were paying attention* Well that's what I mean! I mean, she was praying to God to help her be kind to her swimming teacher and follow the swimming path He wants her to follow.
Me: Ah yes. Makes total sense.

As fun as the first few weeks (minus the first day) has been, I've also seen how hard you are on yourself and how defeated you feel when something doesn't come easily to you. Oh my precious girl, how I wish you could see yourself as I do. If you could, you'd see yourself as someone who's sharp as a tack, immensely creative, wildly imaginative, totally capable. But I worry your mirror is foggy. Because you see yourself as only smart SOMEtimes, only SORT OF creative with a MEDIOCRE imagination, and very incapable of learning hard stuff. I see so much of me in you. All the negative feelings you have about your abilities, I had when I was your age (and still struggle with today). All your insecurities about looking dumb when you don't understand something, I had when I was your age (and again, still struggle with today).

It's a humbling thing to become a momma. Particularly because sometimes the very things you don't like about yourself or things you struggle with are mirrored in a pint-sized be-pigtailed beauty. So we'll learn together, you and me. We'll grow together, too. We'll also cry, fuss, stomp our feet, and scream into pillows. And by God's grace, it will all be okay. But at least we can do all that screamin' and fussin' in our jammies. Because homeschooling is rad.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for September 1, 2015:

• State Department IT staff among those in the dark about Clinton's private email address
• Next Stop for Google's Self-Driving Cars: Austin
• Georgia Cop Critical, Dog Dead as Police Go to Wrong Home
• Carson Surging in Iowa, Tied with Trump at Top of New Poll
• Iranian Guard Chief Says US 'Still the Great Satan'
• Obama to Chat with Bear (Grylls, That Is) in Alaska

Month 45 - Recap

My sweet boy,
Like Natalie, you had swimming lessons last month. And like Natalie, you improved a lot after that week of lessons. And like Natalie last summer, you had 0% desire to put your face under the water. You were convinced you could swim with your face above water. (Note: you were 0% successful). You did, however, jump into the pool (into your teacher's arms) on the third day. And a few hours after your last lesson, you discovered the wonder of getting dunked. I dunked you about 50 times that afternoon. This Mommy-dunks-Charlie or Daddy-dunks-Charlie game continued for a week or so until you realized that you could dunk yourself. It must be noted that Daddy and I repeatedly told you that you could dunk yourself, but as is so often the case with the SmithKids, you didn't believe us until you found out for yourself. My arm muscles are so thankful you did.

And you've started to swim. Well, not really. I mean, you're in the position to swim - face down, arms out, legs out - but there really isn't much forward progress made. You're doing a great job of Uncoordinated, Asynchronous Paddling. Despite not going forward very much, you're so. proud. of yourself.

You're starting preschool in a few weeks at a nearby church. You're so excited, and you ask no fewer than five times every day, "Do I go to pweschool today?" Telling you that you start in two weeks doesn't help. You have no concept of time; I could tell you that you start in two flibbertyjoobs and it would probably mean just as much.

I never know if you or Natalie will wake up first each morning. You two are consistently inconsistent. On the days you wake up first, you come into the living room and join me on the couch. You snuggle under my blanket and give a big, content, exaggerated sigh. It's so fun. Then you begin to tell me about the wildly fantastical dreams you had. Sometimes you're Batman (because, duh), sometimes you're a hot dog, sometimes you're flying, and sometimes you're cooking. You get louder and louder, more and more expressive, so that by the end, you're making big hand motions, your eyes are wide, and you're practically jumping out of your skin. If the Batman gig doesn't pan out, you should be a professional story-teller.

You're in a stage where you don't like to play by yourself. Like, ever. And I have to remind myself that something like Quiet Time probably makes zero sense to a three-year-old. Like, why would someone want to be quiet? Why would someone want to play by himself in his room? Why does Mommy need Mommy Time? (Answer: so she doesn't get any crazier). I'm sure it'll get easier. I remember Natalie acting like this when she was your age. She's finally gotten to the age where she craves quiet time (most days). But you think the whole notion gets a big ol' Thumbs Down. So I'll continue to explain how everybody needs a little down time each day. And those words will continue to go in one ear and fly out the other one. Until one day, you figure it out for yourself. And I'll get to watch an episode of Cutthroat Kitchen without any interruptions.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for August 9, 2015:

• Typhoon Soudelor Hits Taiwan and China
• Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux Are Married
• Families Calls off Private Search for Missing Teen Boaters, Perry Cohen and Austin Stephanos
• Man Gets a Year for Printing $100 Bills in Casino Hotel Room
• Donald Trump Booed at Republican Presidential Debate, Takes Shot at Rosie O'Donnell

July 2015 - Recap

My dearest peach,
You wrote a letter to our sweet sponsor girl this week. You often want my help for ideas when you write letters to people, but you didn't ask for any help with her letter. I admit, I was curious as to what you'd say. You're a fan of the Stream of Consciousness letters, where you jot down a random smattering of statements without context or any follow-up information. It never surprises me to see this kind of note from you:

Dear So-and-So,

Charlie put his head underwater all by himself! I want to be an illustrator when I grow up and Mommy makes me brush my teeth every night. Charlie doesn't like green beans. My friend got a stuffed cat for her birthday!

Love, Natalie

But this letter ... THIS letter. Never have you written something that instantly made me cry. Like, I didn't even finish reading it and I was already sobbing. Here's what it said:

(If you didn't feel at least a slight inkling of emotion, may I suggest getting your pulse checked. Because you may be dead.)

Daddy and I have decided to put Charlie into 3K preschool this year. Notice who I said decided it. Daddy and I. Daddy. And me. But clearly you ran into a Fairy Godmother who bestowed upon you the privilege of Preschool Decider, because you acted like it was all your decision. The three of us checked out several schools, and after leaving one, you looked at me and gave me an all-knowing head-bob and said "Oh Mommy, this is definitely the one for Charlie. It has his name written all over it. Let's go let them know we've decided." So I looked at you with an all-knowing Momma-thinks-you're-off-your-rocker look and politely informed you that the preschool selection will be a decision left to the two adults of Team Smith. This did not go over well with you. C'est la vie.

You rocked swim lessons (and thereby made up for the debacle that was Swim Lessons 2014). It was just five days, just you and Charlie, held at our friends' pool. On the first day, you cried at the mere suggestion of jumping into the deep end (into the arms of the teacher). Two hours after the end of the fourth day, you were jumping off the deep end into nobody's arms and swimming the entire length of the pool. By the end of the fifth day, you jumped into the deep end and treaded water.

The look on your face when you first swam all the way to the shallow end was one I treasure, and one I don't see nearly enough. You are very much like your dear momma in that if something is hard, instead of trying and failing (and potentially looking silly/foolish), you often give up. If something takes you longer than 20 seconds to figure out, you often assume you're dumb and will never be able to figure it out.

In all honesty, I was thrilled when swimming didn't come naturally to you. And giving up wasn't an option because 1) I'm not paying good money for you to give up on five days of swimming lessons, and 2) you must become drown-proof (in the most general sense). It was non-negotiable. So you struggled, you got tough-loved (by me; you were gently loved by the teacher), you cried, you stomped your feet, you turned into Debbie Downer. But you kept with it. I saw the tears in your eyes when you first jumped into the deep end (into your teacher's arms). I knew you were scared, I knew you were mad. I also knew you wanted to do it. And you did.

Good things are worth working hard for. Working hard doesn't always get you first place, the best grade, or best job. But nobody should ever regret working hard. So I'll continue to encourage you, to support you, to dry your tears until the fear of trying new things and working hard passes. I've cleared my schedule for the next 70 years.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines from August 1, 2015:

• Undercover videos spark Planned Parenthood funding feud
• Seattle CEO who set firm's minimum wage to $70G says he has hit hard times
• GOP candidates jockey for position in final debate dash
• Baltimore killings soar to a level unseen in 43 years
• Bobbi Kristina Brown Mourned at a Funeral in Georgia