Month 38 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 9, 2015:

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

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

2014 - Year End Review

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

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

Here are your Top 10 lists.

Top 10 Things You Love:

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

Top 10 Things You Don't Love:

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

Top 10 Things You're Good At:

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

Top 10 Things You're Not Good At:

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

December 2014 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for January 1, 2015:

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

Month 37 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for December 9, 2014:

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

November 2014 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for December 1, 2014:

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

Year Three - Year End Review

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

10 Things You're Good At:

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

10 Things You're NOT Good At:

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

10 Things You Love:

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

10 Things You Don't Love:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

Month 36 - Recap

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for November 9, 2014:

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

October 2014 - Recap

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

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

Repeat until the cows come home.

Another favorite:

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

Repeat until another set of cows come home.

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for November 1, 2014:

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

Month 35 - Recap

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

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

But by the second week, you had come around.

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for October 9, 2014:

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

September 2014 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for October 1, 2014:

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

Month 34 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for September 9, 2014:

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

August 2014 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for September 1, 2014:

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

Month 33 - Recap

Well hello, Mr. Toddler Bed Rockstar,

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for August 9, 2014:

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

July 2014 - Recap

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for August 1, 2014:

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

Month 32 - Recap

My sweet boy,

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for July 8, 2014:

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

June 2014 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for July 1, 2014:

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

Month 31 - Recap

You've been quite the Momma's boy this month. And I'm complaining about this 0% - I'll gladly take all the extra snuggles, extra kisses, and extra time reading to you before bedtime. But with this Momma's Boy Thing going on, it's meant more tears when I drop you off at Sunday School ("I miss you when you at big chuh'ch"), an inability to go anywhere (even the playroom) without me coming along, and a face-crumpling sadness when you're in your crib for bedtime. When Daddy puts you in your crib, you poke out your bottom lip and say "I miss Mommy. *big sigh*" (Though on the flip side, when I put you in your crib, you say "I miss Daddy"). You're pretty bummed out at night in your crib. We come into your room no fewer than three times at night to calm you down and reassure you that we're not going anywhere and we're not doing anything fun in the living room without you. You're rarely convinced (and for good reason - Daddy and I bust out the ice cream and chocolate after you and Natalie go to bed.)

You've graduated from calling Natalie "Na-nee" to "Na-nee-wee". It's precious. Know what's NOT precious? That you have YET to graduate from screaming like a crazy person when bath time rolls around. All I have to do is SAY the word 'bath' and you immediately start panicking, whining, and crying. You've also graduated from liking the water coming out of the hose to being deathly afraid of the water coming out of the hose. You'll come around eventually, right?

You like to pretend to go to work. Like, right now, you're walking around the house with the UNO Moo barn announcing to the empty living room that you're going to work ('woke'). And that you're going to 'pway wiff my fwends'. If getting a job means that you can make for being a total mooch for the past two-and-a-half years, then I'm all for it. I bet the salary for someone rolling UNO Moo animals across the floor is pretty sweet.

You and Natalie have been quite the bickering duo this month. She wants you to play a certain way; you don't like that way. She only wants you to chase her; you only want her to chase you. She wants to play Barbies; you want to play trucks. She draws a lot; you walk on her drawings a lot. I'm trying to explain that you two don't necessarily have to play the same thing, that playing NEAR each other is fine, too. Neither of you thinks that idea is acceptable. Know what I say to that? Hmph.

This hasn't been the easiest month. It seems like everybody's nerves are shot and the insufferable humidity certainly isn't helping our dispositions (or hair). Nobody ever said this parenting gig was easy, but I'm quite sure this rough month won't cause you to end up on a therapist's chair when you're older. This is where God's grace fills in the (many) missing pieces I have in my quest to have a more gentle (and less yell-y and easily annoyed) disposition. I'm on a mission to continually point you (and myself) to Him, because, duh, He's way better than I am.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for June 9, 2014

• Married Couple Guns Down Three, Including Two Las Vegas Police Officers
• Tracy Morgan Improving, But Still In Critical Condition After Weekend Car Crash
• FBI Awaiting Confirmation of Hezbollah Leader's Death
• Down and Out: Cantor to Resign as House Majority Leader
• What, Me Fat? Most Americans Don't Think So, Poll Finds

May 2014 - Recap

My sweet girl,
So Daddy and I have officially decided that I'll homeschool you this fall. (In case you're wondering, my 2013 self is having a heart attack right now.) I never EVER thought I'd be a homeschool mom. I never thought I had the patience, knowledge, or ability to do it. But I've been slowly feeling God telling me I need to do it - at least TRY it. I can't attribute it to anything or anyone other than God because me? I've been giddy for the past few years every time I see a school bus because IT WAS ALMOST YOUR TURN AND I COULDN'T WAAAAAAIT!

I also didn't want to do it because homeschool kids are WEIRD, right? And they have no SOCIAL life, right? And homeschool moms are always PATIENT and always SMART and always LOVE being around their kids ALL DAY with NO BREAKS, right? I'm not sure where these notions came from, but I'm embarrassed at how strong my opinions were on something I knew very little (if not nothing) about.

Kids in general are just weird. They're weird in public school, weird in private school, weird in homeschool. Some grow out of their weirdness, some (like your mother) have to embrace it well into adulthood. And I've discovered that socialization won't be an issue with you. There are enough play groups, homeschool classes, and activities that it'll probably be more "We can't do it all" as opposed to "What is there to do?". Patience is not my strong point, I'm only moderately intelligent, and honestly, the thought of being around children 24/7 makes me a little nervous. And then grace swoops in. His grace will fill in missing pieces in my patience puzzle ... His grace will take over when I'm trying to teach something that's over my head (though I think I can handle kindergarten without too much trouble ... hopefully) ... and His grace will give me the ability to extend grace to my children when we're all getting on each other's nerves.

Once I accepted the challenge, I began to realize how neat this opportunity really is. Of course, I'm completely overwhelmed at the sheer volume of options there are and have driven myself crazy trying to figure out how to do it, but I'm excited. I'm really, really excited. Daddy and I have both agreed that we'll take this year by year and evaluate where we stand. You may go to public school sometime in the future; you might be a homeschool high school graduate. Who knows? Well, I know one person Who knows ...

I like the idea of getting to teach you. I'm not a teacher by any means, but I figure I know you better than anyone and that alone makes me at least a little equipped to teach you effectively. I know what makes you tick, I know what infuriates you. I know what you're passionate about, I know what you need to focus on. I know how important it is to start our day off right, so we'll do a Bible study before we do anything else. I know that during the day, for every hour or so doing something that's NOT art, you need a half-hour or so to draw or color. It relaxes you, it centers you, it refreshes you. I know that you get frustrated if you can't do something exactly right the first time, and I'll factor that into teaching you new concepts. I know that you like hands-on activities, so I'll be sure to have a lot of those ready for you. I know you're a visual learner, so math will be full of blocks, shapes, and other manipulatives. I know I'm the least interested in history, but I refuse to pass that opinion on to you. I know that you like to know what's going on, so I'll be sure to let you know the day's plan while we eat breakfast. I know that you like being told specific steps to follow, and that creativity doesn't always come easy for you, so I'll work on encouraging your creative side. I know that you like cuddles, so if in the middle of a lesson, you're in clear need, we'll stop the lesson and cuddle on the couch. We'll do what works for US.

I want you to love learning. I want you to be excited about the world. I want you to be passionate. I want you to be selfless. But more than anything, I want you to follow God's path for your life. Whether it's a doctor, lawyer, artist, singer, missionary, homeschooling momma, chef, or anything in between, I want you to know the satisfaction that comes from being in line with His will. The satisfaction with the decision to homeschool you has been immense. I'm excited to spend this time with you. I'm excited to teach you new things. I'm excited to watch the light bulb go off when you figure out a hard problem. I'm excited to learn right along side you. I'm excited about doing school in our jammies.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for June 1, 2014:

• 2 Kids Injured as Colorado Bounce House Blows Away
• 'Taliban Dream Team': Who are the 5 prisoners traded for Bergdahl's freedom?
• New U.S. Ambassador to Switzerland Swears Oath on an E-Reader
• Ann B. Davis, Housekeeper Alice on 'The Brady Bunch,' Dies at 88
• Measles Cases in U.S. Spike to Highest Level in 20 Years

Month 30 - Recap

Dude, I am worn slap OUT by your antics this month. I totally understand that the 'why' stage is a constant barrage of questions. But you, sir, seemed to have taken it to a whole 'nother level. I was just talking to Bob, saying how I don't remember this stage being so exhausting with Natalie. Bob laughed and said "Of course it wasn't ... Natalie didn't have an older sibling to egg her on!" Ah yes. The egging. Your sister is an expert egger. She encourages you to ask questions because she sees how totally exasperated I get after, oh, I don't know ... hour 378 of the constant why's.

Here's just a smattering of the craziness that goes on 24/7 'round these parts:
You: Yook, Momma! A po-weece [police] car!
Me: That's right, buddy! A police car!
You: Why?

You: (after pulling into the driveway) We hooooooome!
Me: Yep, we're home!
You: Why?

You: Yook, Momma! I have Buzz Yightyear!!
Me: Hi Buzz!
You: Why?

You: Yook, Momma! I have on a funny beht [belt]. (You stretched out my kitchen tongs to fit around your plump little belly)
Me: (laughing)
You: Why?

You: Oooh, a big twuck [truck]!
Me: Oh yeah, it's huge!
You: Why huge?
Me: Um, because it's not small?
You: Why not small?
Me: (my brain has melted so I'm absolutely floundering at this point) Um, because it's big?
You: (grinning, TOTALLY aware of what you're doing) Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy???? Whymommawhymommawhymomma?
Me: Oh gracious. Charlie ... please, man ...
Natalie: (cackling like a dang hen from the back seat) Charlie! Ask her another question!! Momma's going crazy! This is FUN!

You also say you're going to ask Daddy if my answer is ever "I'm not sure" or "I don't know". See, now that would totally work on many topics of conversation, like engineering, the Bible, Tulane, the Army, how to make the perfect omelet, etc. But some of the things you say you're going to ask Daddy about are things that Daddy just can't help you with.

Case in point:

You: Where dat guy goin'? (referring to a guy walking down Hwy 90)
Me: Hmm, I'm not sure, bud.
You: *hmph* I ask Daddy.
Um, yeah, Daddy doesn't know either.

You: Where dat car goin'? (referring to the car next to us at a red light)
Me: Maybe to the grocery store, maybe to the dry cleaners, maybe to the gas station. I don't know for sure.
You: Oh well. I just ask Daddy yater [later].
DADDY DOESN'T KNOW THIS EITHER!

You also point out every restaurant we've ever eaten at and ask what we got to eat.

You: Went dere!! (pointing at a local breakfast place)
Me: Yep, we did!
You: What I get?
Me: Pancakes.
You: What Nattie get?
Me: A breakfast sandwich and hashbrowns.
You: What Daddy get?
Me: An omelette
You: What Mommy get?
Me: Eggs and hashbrowns.

(the next day)
You: Went dere! (pointing at the same local breakfast place)
Me: Yep, we sure did!
You: What I get?
Me: Pancakes.
You: What Nattie get?
Me: A breakfast sandwich.
You: What else?
Me: What else what, buddy?
You: What else Nattie have?
Me: Um ....
You: Hass-bwowns!!

Clearly, if I don't give the EXACT answers every time, you grill me until you get the answer(s) that satisfy you. THIS EXHAUSTS ME TO NO END.

And every (e.v.e.r.y.) time we pass by the bowling alley, we have the same conversation:
You: Bo dere!
Me: That's right! That's where we went bowling!
You: Bo 'gain?
Me: Yep, we'll go again.
You: Why?

Daddy had an idea to turn this constant-question-thing back around on you. Instead of answering why, we say "Why do YOU think, Charlie?" Your response? "Ummm, I don't fink." You are such a punk.

I'm sure you did other things this month. I just don't have any more functioning brain cells to figure out what they were. (Now you say, "Why?")

Just for the record, you still hate baths and all things vegetable-y.

Just for the record, I am still hopelessly and proudly wrapped around your grubby and sticky little finger.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for May 9, 2014:

• U.S. Experts Arrive in Nigeria to Hunt Girls Taken by Boko Haram
• Groomsmen Leave Wedding Party to Rescue Fisherman
• Don't Call Me Grandma: Births to 'Older' Moms on the Rise
• Dr. Dre: Will He Be the World's First Billionaire Rapper?
• Boston Bombing Suspect ‘Begged for Rest’ During Questioning After Nearly Dying

April 2014 - Recap

My sweet little stinker,
This has been a rough month. I do believe both you and Charlie have made a secret Smithkid agreement to act like big ol' Whiny McBadAttitudes. Your fussing this month has included, but is not limited to complaining about getting wet ... while you were in the bathtub. Complaining about getting wet ... when you JUST asked me to spray you with the hose. Complaining about bugs ... when we're outside ... in Florida ... in the spring. Complaining that Charlie was playing with your Barbie ... after you gave him the Barbie to play with. Complaining that we never buy you ANYthing EVER as long as you LIVE ... after we just bought you some craft supplies. Pure lunacy.

You graduate preschool next month. Before I had kids, I thought that any graduation ceremony for someone other than a high school senior or a college senior was ridiculous. But now that I have kids? My thought have changed a wee bit. Yes, it's still silly ... but it's SO CUTE WHEN IT'S YOUR OWN KID! You took your graduation pictures, complete with cap and gown and fake diploma. It may or may not have been the most adorable thing on the planet (spoiler: it was). And your teacher said that you and your class will all be wearing caps and gowns for your graduation in a few weeks. SO FUN. AND YES, SO SILLY.

Speaking of school, we've had a good lesson in friendship this month. A little girl in your class has been being pretty mean to you and saying some rude stuff. You didn't know what to do (duh, you're five), so you didn't do anything - you just kept playing with this little girl and she just kept being mean. It wasn't until your teacher mentioned it to me that we were able to work through it. We explained to you that you are NOT to be mean back to her but you do NOT need to play with someone who treats you badly. You couldn't wrap your mind around someone being purposefully mean, so it took a few days for you to understand what to do. Now every day, you tell me how she acted and what you did. And I'm proud as punch of you. You stood up for yourself without being mean.

Your ballet recital is also next month. I can't WAIT to see it. The girls in your class are all so cute and all have the attention span of, well, five- and six-year-old girls. But your teacher is such a sweetheart and has been working hard on teaching you girls the routine. I think these lessons have surprised you, in that you actually have to learn something and not just prance around to the Hokey Pokey or Skip to My Lou.

Daddy and I introduced you to The Cosby Show this month. Daddy and I have to approve all the kid shows you and Charlie watch (there are some seriously obnoxious kid shows out there. Stop it, Kid Show Producers!), and we have a small set of decent ones that we let you watch so it's not like we were looking for something non-annoying for you to start watching. But we figured that you'd get a kick out of watching The Cosby Show, particularly if either Rudy or Olivia is close to your age. Obviously you don't understand all the jokes, but you think Rudy and/or Olivia are so fun and find Bill Cosby's facial expressions hilarious. They are and they are. I love your great sense of humor. You're welcome for that, by the way.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for May 1, 2014:

• New York Teen Accepted to All 8 Ivy League Schools Picks Yale
• Vet Allegedly Kept Family's Dog Alive for Experiments
• Actor Bob Hoskins Dead at 71
• 60 Teens Arrested After Senior Pranksters Break Into New Jersey School

Pensacola got hit with a record storm on Tuesday - here are some of the headlines from it:

• Portion of Scenic Highway has collapsed
• Manna Food Pantries may be a total loss after flood
• Gulf Breeze homes suffer sinkholes from floodwaters
• Gov. Rick Scott tours Pensacola
• State of Emergency in Escambia County; drowning reported

And then yesterday,

• Two inmates were killed and scores injured Wednesday, after an explosion at the Escambia County Jail.

To put it mildly, Pensacola has had a rough week.