Month 26 - Recap

My darling boy,
One of your current favorite games is playing 'jail' (or, 'dail', since you're not a fan of Js). This rousing game involves me (or Daddy) sitting on the couch with our feet propped up on the coffee table. You crawl under our legs and pop through between them, effectively in 'dail'. You're trapped by our legs and you try to wiggle and grunt your way free. Sometimes you're the jailbird, where you escape from our clutches and run around the house screaming in glee. Other times, just to remind you that I'm stronger than you (for the time being at least), I don't let you break free (at least not on purpose) and you end up pouting and whining. It makes me smile.

I love hearing you talk. You're starting to put some three-and-four-word sentences together (so feel free to nip in the bud your favorite one-word sentence of "STOP".) There are many things you say so well, and then there are things that just reduce me to giggles when you say them.

• rectangle: wept-anguh
• oval: o-bull
• yogurt: yogurk
• dinosaur: dy-do
• green: geesh
• Ratatouille: waa-too-ee
• teeth: teesh
• Magformers: muh-FAWM-uhs
• Christmas: kiss-biss
• movie: mooney
• puzzle: puzz-null
• Silent Night (your go-to lullaby since you were born): ho-nigh [Holy Night]
• school: coos
• ketchup: kep-bup

Just like your sister ended her last month by being super sick, you did, too. Just after she got over her bout with the flu and pink eye, you became really whiny and pitiful, walking around the house saying your head hurt ('heh huwt'). I knew something was wrong, especially when you kept up a low-grade fever for a few days. And let's not forget the three straight nights where you got approximately 11 minutes of sleep total. I slept with you on the couch, we (which quickly turned into just Daddy) slept with you in our bed, we slept in your glider, we slept on the floor right by your crib. You would sleep for about 20 seconds, we thought we were home free, then you'd jolt awake and start whimpering. You'd flail, you'd kick, you'd roll over, you'd flip, you'd flop, you were so miserable. I took you to the doctor (because I was sure you had an ear infection) but he said your ears looked fine. Fast forward two days and I took you to Urgent Care in Dothan because, again, I KNEW something was wrong. The doctor took one look in your ears and said "Oh yeah, definitely a double ear infection." He also diagnosed me with an upper respiratory infection. You and I are just starting to feel better. Which means that now Daddy is sick. MERCY.

One of my New Year's resolutions is to praise my way through hard circumstances. I often enjoy a good pity party, but in reality, it serves no purpose. Finding things to be thankful for doesn't always come naturally; it's a skill that I must practice and perfect. It's a conscious decision to be thankful when you don't feel thankful. Has it been awful that we've been sick, non-stop, for more than two weeks? You betcha. Has it taken every ounce of my being not to lose my noodle? Yep (although my noodle is still precariously close to being lost on a daily basis). Is it fair that Natalie was sick on her birthday? Of course not. But you know what's awesome? You and Natalie weren't sick at the same time. Daddy and I weren't sick at the same time. There have been plenty of new Christmas toys, movies, and books to occupy the healthy members of Team Smith. I've had some serious cuddle time with both you and Natalie. And let's not forget that Angry Bird graham crackers were BOGO at Winn Dixie (that's your current favorite snack). There is always something to be thankful for, my boy. It might be small, it might be gigantic - it doesn't matter. What matters is that you don't dwell on the bad stuff. Fix your eyes on the blessings. You, my sweet bear, are what my eyes are often fixed on. While yours are often fixed on Angry Bird graham crackers.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 9, 2014:

• Bullock, DeGeneres win People's Choice Awards
• Gabby Giffords: Skydive is my way of saying 'I'm alive'
• Rodman Apologizes for Outlandish Interview, Admits He Was Drinking
• Former NFL Player, Todd Williams, Found Dead
• 2 dead after Navy helicopter crashes near Virginia coast
• Texas firefighter uses beer to extinguish truck tire blaze

20 Questions from a Five-Year-Old

Five-year-olds are funny people.

1. What is your favorite color? Pink (Yellow/Yellow)
2. What is your favorite toy? My scooter (My dollhouse/Fishing rod)
3. What is your favorite fruit? Peaches (Grapes/Apples and strawberries and oranges)
4. What is your favorite TV show? Bubble Guppies (Big Big Friend/Little Einsteins)
5. What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? Hot dog and French fries (Turkey and cheese/Cheese)
6. What is your favorite outfit? My 'party clothes' [your black shirt with sequins and your sparkly black pants] (My soup shirt [that says Miso Cute]/Shirt and pants)
7. What is your favorite game? Tag (Candy Land/Hungry Hungry Hippos)
8. What is your favorite snack? Angry Bird graham crackers (Grapes/Granola bar)
9. What is your favorite animal? Unicorn (Doggie/Doggies)
10. What is your favorite song? Strangely Dim (Hark the Herald Angels Sing/Silent Night)
11. What is your favorite book? Fancy Nancy and the Loose Tooth (Skippy Jon Jones in the Doghouse/Moo Baa La La La)
12. Who is your best friend? Lelia, Miley, Allie (Kendall/Eliana)
13. What is your favorite cereal? Chex Mix [not really a cereal, but whatever] (Honey Nut Cheerios/Banana and milk cereal)
14. What is your favorite thing to do outside? Ride my scooter (Play ball/Play ball)
15. What is your favorite drink? Lemonade (Lemonade/Water)
16. What is your favorite holiday? Christmas (Christmas/Easter)
17. What do you like to take to bed with you at night? Lauren Bear (Lauren Bear/Elephant and Lauren Bear)
18. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? PB&J, gummy vitamins, and a glass of milk (Cereal/Banana)
19. What do you want for dinner on your birthday? Pizza (Pizza/Blueberries)
20. What do you want to be when you grow up? A gymnast [that she comes from incredibly tall parents, I'll leave it up to her to discover that she probably doesn't have a future of being less than 5' tall] (A chef/A princess)

2013 - Year End Review

Happy 5th Birthday, my darling love.

How has it already been five years that you caused us to miss the 2008 Tax Break by 15 hours (in case you were wondering, no, Daddy and I will never ever let you live that down)?

Top 10 Things You Love:

1. Art (crayons, pens, pencils, paint - you don't discriminate)
2. Singing
3. Making up your own jokes (my personal favorite: What do horses do before they take a bath? Get neeeeiiiiighhhhhh-ked.)
4. Reading
5. Playing with Charlie
6. Pizza Fridays
7. Parks
8. Commercials on Nick Jr (which annoys me to no end ...)
9. School
10. Pink, purple, and orange (your current favorite colors)

Top 10 Things You Don't Love:

1. Beans
2. Loud noises
3. Toilets that flush automatically
4. Loud hand dryers in public restrooms
5. Bad guys in movies. At the first notion of a bad guy, you loudly declare that "this is the worst movie in the history of the world."
6. Any change in routine. You brushing your teeth before Charlie brushes his? Oh no. NOT. HAPPENING. 
7. Eye drops for pink eye
8. Coming up with ideas to entertain yourself on your own
9. Yogurt
10. When Charlie says the same thing over and over and over (which he does a LOT)

Top 10 Things You're Good At:

1. Reading pretty much anything put in front you
2. Spelling. That you know how to spell big words absolutely floors me
3. Writing. You write page after page of sweet notes to people you love
4. Making Charlie laugh
5. Bossing Charlie around (this, however, does not make Charlie laugh)
6. Eating. You may not like everything on your plate, but you always eat the required Courtesy Bite. 
7. Jumping to conclusions (and subsequently falling apart). If we're playing before bed and I say it's time to get your jammies on, you disolve into a puddle of tears because you think that we won't get to play anymore. If you would just ASK if we could play more after you get your jammies on, you'd discover that 90% of the time, the answer is yes. Or if we're playing catch, and Charlie throws the ball to me, you immediately pout and grouss and say "Now I'm NEVER going to get the ball! I'm never going to get to play!" Dramatic much?
8. Singing. All the time. 
9. Creating your pretend sisters. Currently there's Jesse (she's two months and only an inch long), Alaska, Abaska, and Ita (Ita's been around since you were two or three). Alaska and Abaska can do things that you're not allowed to do (like eat ice cream for dinner).
10. Riding your bike. You've decided that you're ready to ditch your training wheels. We'll see if there are any visits to the ER in 2014.

Top 10 Things You're Not Good At:

1. Remaining unpanicky when things don't go your way. You go from zero to FREAKING OUT in 0.1 seconds.
2. Differential equations.  Five years, going strong.  
3. Being humble. It's funny, you hardly brag at all about the things you're truly good at (like reading, writing, and spelling). You brag about knowing things that, in reality, you know very little about. "I know everything about doctors and dentistses." [Yes, I typed that correctly. d-e-n-t-i-s-t-s-e-s. I believe not pronouncing the word correctly implies that you do not, in fact know everything about it.] 
4. Getting your clothes right-side-out after they're inside-out. When I ask you to do it, you give me the same exasperated response as if I had just asked you to smell a color or taste a number.
5. Sitting still. You are so squirmy and you change positions every 2.2 nanoseconds.
6. Trying new foods. Once we can GET you to do it, you're all good. But getting you to that point can be dicey at times.
7. Not giving up. Ah, yes. You get this incredibly undesirable quality from me. If you can't figure it out the first time, you pitch a fit and declare you'll NEVER be able to do . EVER. 
8. Keeping a secret. "Charlie, I will NOT tell you you're getting a train table for your birthday." *sigh*
9. Cooking me dinner. 
10. Getting your own ice water. Oh, what I would GIVE to have a fridge with an ice-and-water dispenser in the door ...

From January 2013 to December 2013, you've gone from someone who hardly knew how to read a handful of words to someone who can read practically every kid book at the library. You've gone from someone who was fearful in new situations to someone who has from Day One, walked right into preschool like you've been doing it forever. You've also walked into (almost) each Sunday School class at every new church we've tried like a professional Sunday School attendee. This newfound confidence of yours is such an answered prayer.

You write notes to your friends. You draw pictures to let people know you're thinking about them. You comfort Charlie when he's upset. You call me the Best Cook Ever. You always ask Daddy how his day at work was. You are one of the most thoughtful souls I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

You often get too big for your britches. I don't think that's unique to you; I think it's in the Four-Year-Old Handbook: YOU MUST ACT LIKE A BIG OL' SASSYPANTS AND BIG OL' KNOW-IT-ALL 24/7. I often struggle with what to let slide and what to bring to an immediate halt. I think that will be a common struggle in my Motherhood Walk - what to let slide and what to nip in the bud. I am thankful that you are, for the most part, a rule follower. It may take us telling you 9,392 times to get it through your know-it-all four-year-old head, but eventually you get the picture.

You are so like me when I was little (according to Bob) ... it is a truth that's both hilarious and humbling. I don't know at what point I decided to not a gigantic sassypants (I mean, I still am, but I try to be a social acceptable sassypants) but I'm assuming it wasn't at age four. Or five ... or six or seven or eight ... Your sassiness indicates feistyness. And it forever keeps me on my toes. You and I watch Food Network a lot during Quiet Time, and more than once, you've commented on the textures of your food, on the prominent flavors that come out of whatever we're having for dinner, on how the flavor of one food complements the color (yes, the color) of another food. I adore you and I love you with an indescribable fierceness.

You are a common theme in my prayers. I pray that your heart will be drawn to God at an early age, I pray that you'll have a Godly influence on your friends, I pray you'll find your worth in who He says you are and not who your peers say you are or aren't. I also pray that your sassiness won't get you beat up on the playground. You and I are similar in many ways and I pray that those similarities will bring us closer and not drive us apart. Daddy and I have the incredible honor of being your parents. I fall more in love with him when I see how gentle he is with you, how patient he is with you, how he is a total pushover for your precious smile and hilarious commentary. You change people, my girl. And I can assure you, you've changed me for the absolute better.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

December 2013 - Recap

Well here we are. Your last month as the big 0-4. How on earth?

You had your Christmas program at preschool a few weeks ago. It was obscenly adorable. The older kiddos in Sunday School sang for the first half of the program; your preschool class sang (hollered? mumbled? cried?) for the second half. Knowing how (*ahem*) cooperative four-year-olds can be, your teachers had the excellent idea to have you guys sing along with a CD. Because if you didn't? It would be delightful music with a bunch of four-year-olds sounding like Charlie Brown's teacher. I couldn't get enough of you guys - all gussied up in your Christmas best, looking all adorable and festive, and being so silly and four. Most of the kids in your class (including you) loudly called to their respective parents (the acoustics were AWESOME in the sanctuary) and waved maniacally. You sang adorable songs, and while the intention was to do adorable hand motions to go along with the songs, most of the kids had other plans for their hands. Some chose to clap randomly, some bit their fingernails, some folded their arms across their chest and sulked, and some (ie: you) spent the majority of the program picking fuzz off her dress and trying to button her sweater. The coolest part was when you went up the microphone and recited a few Bible verses. I was wondering if you'd go through with it or not, and you did - like a champ. And the look on your face when the audience clapped for you? I will forever remember that smile.

We went to a local state park to see their Christmas display - you and Charlie were in heaven! Santa also happened to be there - and knowing how much of a NON fan you were of him last year, I prepared you in advance. You seemed super excited to see him, and when it was your turn to sit on his lap, you skipped up to him and made yourself comfortable. The same can't be said for Charlie. He sat, but hung his head the entire time (that's his go-to response for when a stranger talks to him). You explained to Santa that Charlie was really silly and that he probably wouldn't play along. You're quite the perceptive one, my girl.

Just like I did for last year's Christmas gift of a marble run, I planted the idea in your head of wanting Magformers. They're these super rad (read: nerdy) magnetic blocks that I saw on a Mommy Blog last month. I looked at a few YouTube videos about them and was instantly hooked. I showed you the videos and your eyes lit up. You decided that you wanted them more than ANYthing (score for me!) and you squealed like a crazy person when you ripped off the paper and saw them in your lap on Christmas morning. All four of us have had the best time building things with them.

The day after Christmas, you ended up with the flu. And pink eye. To say the last week of you being four has been miserable is a gross understatement. You were burning up with a fever and sobbing the night after Christmas. We took you to Urgent Care the next morning and had you diagnosed with the flu within 15 minutes. I don't remember ever seeing you that pitiful. You just laid in bed and had this sad, far off look in your eyes. On our way back to Marianna (we were in Pensacola when you got sick), Daddy and I noticed that your eyes were swollen and oozy. I called Urgent Care and told them your symptoms and the doctor had seen called in a prescription for pink eye right away. ThankyouJesus.

I've often forgotten that you're only four. Your wit and sense of humor are on par with adults ... you read like someone in the upper grades of elementary school ... you make up stories like a screenwriter ... so when you whine and pitch a fit like a four-year-old, I'm often shocked. I have to remind myself that you're only four. You're a smart four, but you're still only four. And four-year-olds are allowed to be irrational and complete wackadoos. But you're MY wickedly smart, totally irrational, and completely wacky four-almost-five-year-old. And my heart is all the better for you, the girl who felt that beginning her entrance into the world right as the ball dropped in NYC was a solid plan. And it was. You will always, always be my best girl.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 1, 2014:

• 'Once in a lifetime': Global revelers ring in 2014 with booms and flashes
• Pope Francis to Ted Cruz: 2013's breakout stars
• NASA criticizes Beyonce's Challenger song sample
• Barbara Bush hospitalized for respiratory ailment
• Experts fear attacks are terror probes before Sochi
• Schumacher improved, but doctors are still cautious