January 2017 - Recap

My sweet eight-year-old,
You decided this month that you were going to learn how to roller skate. We went to the local skating rink before Christmas with some friends and you managed to stomp and inch your way around the rink a few times but there was very little actual gliding (in other words, very little actual skating) going on.

So Daddy walked with you up and down the driveway as you slowly got your balance. And once school started back up, you used the incentive of skating afterwards to focus on school (and not daydream about unicorns and rainbows - ahem).

The first day of skating lessons, you and I were a hot mess. You spent more time on your rear than on your feet, despite my attempts at holding you up (#momfail). It happened to be trash day that day and the trash collectors had a good time watching us go (fall) up and down our street. We considered it our good deed for the day.

The second day didn't see much improvement. But by the third day, you insisted I let go of your hand while we were in the driveway. And suddenly it felt like you were 18 and leaving for college.

Never in my eight years of being your momma have I been overly concerned about you getting hurt. I figured a broken arm or a twisted ankle is a part of growing up. In fact, you and I often talk about what color you want your first cast to be. See? I just don't think a broken bone is that big of a deal. Now I don't encourage you to be foolish, but I'm not going to discourage you, for instance, from climbing high on the playground equipment for fear you may fall. I will caution you to watch where you put your feet, but I want you to gain confidence in trusting your body to do the awesome things God created it to do. But for some reason, I wasn't prepared to let you go. I didn't want you to get hurt. I didn't want you to grow up and not need my hand. I didn't want any of that. WHERE DID ALL THESE FEELINGS COME FROM?!

You insisted I let go of you and I flat out told you no.

You: Momma, let go!
Me: No way, man! You're not ready to skate on your own!
You: Of course I am! I'm never gonna learn if you keep holding my hand!
Me: I don't have plans to go to the ER today, so I'm not letting your hand go. Sorry.
You: But I won't fall! And even if I do, we've already talked about it - I'm getting a purple cast. It's not that big of a deal, right?
Me: [super annoyed that you used my words against me] Fine.

I let go and you proceed to almost fall about 200 times. And you actually fell about 5 times. And each time I felt my heart leave my body and slam on the ground right beside your fanny.

Fast forward just three short days later and you can skate up the street and back again all by yourself (meaning without holding my hand - I'm still walking beside you). You're slow going and you've got the benefit of the rough asphalt to keep you from going too fast, but you're skating. I'm so proud of you. Seeing your focused face, seeing your determination when each time you fell down you immediately popped back up, and seeing the joy when you figured it out was such an awesome experience for me.

My reaction completely surprised me, and although my heart has finally returned to a normal rhythm, I imagine there will be many more times for my heart to jump out of my chest. But please know my hand is always available for you. You may not need it (or even want it) but it will never not be here for you to hold.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for February 2, 2017

• Democrats Fuming Over Supreme Court Nominee Neil Gorsuch Backed Him in 2006
• Lady Gaga says her Super Bowl concert is 'for everyone'
• Police Use Backhoe to Breach Prison, End Standoff; 1 Dead
• Protests, Violence Prompt UC Berkeley to Cancel Milo Yiannopoulos Event
• Donald and Ivanka Trump Make Unannounced Trip to Honor Fallen SEAL

Month 62 - Recap

My sweet master builder,
Like I wrote in Natalie's recap, Daddy and I mixed up Christmas this year for you and Natalie. Instead of letting you two rip open all of your presents within 20 minutes and then find yourselves overwhelmingly surrounded by toys, we insisted that you two play with each toy after you open it. It prevented you from being overwhelmed ("I don't know what to play with FIRST!!! Waaaaaa!!!") and it allowed Christmas to last all day (and to even extend to the next day).

You got some cool books and toys but your big gift was a cool Lego police station (that your awesome mom found for 50% off). You usually put together Lego sets and then immediately disassemble them and make your own creations out of the pieces. My Type-A brain shudders every time you do this but I'm learning to just look away when Chuckzilla comes to destroy something. And honestly, the things you create with a pile of random pieces blows me away. I pretty much need an instruction sheet to build anything more intricate than a MiniFigure but you can build the most amazing things from just your imagination. You're quite the master builder indeed. I've asked if you'd just prefer a big bucket of Legos instead of sets since you never keep the sets together but you insist you like the sets better. Color me confused.

Anywho, we bought you the Lego police station and I assumed two things:

1. You'd need a LOT of help since it's a pretty giant set
2. You'd (we'd) build it and then immediately tear it apart to build one of your creations

I was wrong on both accounts. Well, kind of wrong. You put together about 80% of it yourself. You have a hard time following each instruction and sometimes would prefer to just skip to step 10, having ignored step 4 and 8. But by the time step 11 would come around, you'd get all frustrated because some piece wouldn't fit because of the critical pieces you left out in the steps 4 and 8. So we had to help you a few times by retracing your steps and making sure you included all the pieces. But we had to help you a lot less than we were expecting.

You had the entire set built in three days and you kept it perfectly assembled for almost three weeks. This is a new Charlie Bear Record. Then, a few days ago, you decided that a tornado passed through the town and destroyed the police station. You haven't tried to build anything with the pieces yet, choosing instead to leave the mayhem just as it is. Good times.

These are indeed good times. YOU are a good time, my angel bear. I'm so tickled to be your momma.

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for January 9, 2017:

• President-Elect Trump Lashes Out at Meryl Streep After Golden Globes Speech
• Ft. Lauderdale Airport Shooting Suspect Heads to Court
• Wilkes Barre Faces Heroin Scourge Turning it into the Most Unhappy Place in America
• Subway Strike Brings London to Standstill, Strands Millions
• The U.S. Dropped an Average of 3 Bombs Per Hour Last Year
• TV news report prompts viewers' Amazon Echo devices to order unwanted dollhouses

2016 - Year End Review

Why hello there, my mature grown-up girl (your words, not mine). You never cease to amaze me with what comes out of your mouth and I've been tickled endlessly these past eight years (well, these past six years - you hardly said a word your first two years. But I think you've more than made up for it.)

Here are your mature, grown-up Top 10 Lists!

10 Things You Love

1. Gymnastics
2. Wrestling with Charlie
3. Being tickled
4. Singing
5. Drawing/coloring/painting
6. Pink and/or purple and/or sparkly clothes
7. Swimming
8. Traveling. You love new cities.
9. Church
10. Quality time (I do believe I've found your love language)

10 Things You Don't Love

1. Emptying the dishwasher (I often have to explain to you that in life, we don't only get to do that which we like to do)
2. Naps (A DNA test may be in order)
3. Humid weather (A DNA test isn't at all necessary)
4. Only a few foods (namely beans, cooked carrots, cumin) 
5. Bees/wasps/yellow jackets
6. Learning something new (New concepts introduce the opportunity for you to get things wrong! A fate worse than death!)
7. Automatic flushing toilets
8. Not being involved in every conversation. It seems to cause you physical pain.
9. Being corrected. (Ahhh, humility. 'Tis a tough thing to teach a precocious one.)
10. Disappointing people

10 Things You're Good At

1. Math
2. Doing cartwheels and handstands
3. Making rubber band bracelets
4. Handwriting (makes my lettering-loving heart so happy)
5. Following directions
6. Being encouraging
7. Being funny. Your wit is razor-sharp.
8. Making cards for people
9. Being friendly and an include-r. Please, oh please, keep this up.
10. Singing. We need to work on your volume control, but you can definitely carry a tune in a bucket.

10 Things You're Not Good At

1. Sleeping in (you're a great sleeper but you're not a good sleeper-in-er)
2. Sitting still ... you fidget, you stir, you flip, you flop, you spend so much time trying to get comfortable that I'll be old and gray by the time you find the perfect position.
3. Focusing while I read to you during school. I'll read out of your history or science book, look over to you, and can practically see the daydreams floating above your head. Rainbow unicorns are fantastic but I'm pretty sure they weren't present while Washington crossed the Delaware or while scientists were naming the parts of the flower.
4. SPEAKING IN A NORMAL VOLUME.
5. Acting. Pretending to be asleep, trying to act natural when you're playing a joke on someone, maintaining a poker face when we play a game - none of these are things in which you excel.
6. Not interrupting. You so want to be included in every conversation - even if the conversation is adult-y and boring and doesn't involve you in the slightest - so you interject any chance you get (or any chance you take) with a question or a comment, related or unrelated. 
7. Rinsing all the conditioner out of your hair. Granted your hair is impossibly thick, but still. You often come out of the shower with your hair still feeling like a gooey slimeball.
8. Keeping the dramatic tone to an acceptable level. Lawsy mercy.
9. Doing a flip on the trampoline. And the fact that Charlie CAN do a flip on the trampoline goes over like a lead balloon. It infuriates you that he can do something that you can't.
10. Quantum physics. *sigh*

My heart skips a beat or two when I think about how you're halfway to 16. 

You've changed a lot this year. You've lost a few teeth and grew some new ones, so your smile has changed dramatically since you turned seven. Your hair has gotten a lot longer (and, therefore, a lot more tangly) and you've gotten a few inches taller.

You and Charlie have become so close this year. You two still squabble over silly things and I still have to play referee, but my time spent repairing hurt feelings has gotten less and less and you two have gotten better and better at working things out on your own. You and Charlie can spend hours lost in your imaginative world of police officers, unicorns, shipwrecks, and world travel. It's so fun listening to you guys play. It's, um, slightly less fun when both of you come to me with pouty faces because Charlie won't play exactly the way you tell him to, but c'est la vie. 

This has been a pretty emotional year. Lots of things have made you cry, lots of things have made you upset, and lots of things have made you stomp around the house and huff Big Bad Wolf-sized huffs. And on the flip side, lots of things have made you squeal, lots of things have made you jump up and down, and lots of things have made you laugh great big belly laughs.

It ain't easy being a girl, sweet love, and I can't tell you I'll always have the right answer or the wisest advice, but I will tell you this: you are not alone. I understand big feelings because I feel them, too. Big feelings are tough, baffling, and exhausting. Big feelings can also be beautiful. But above all, big feelings can remind us that the Lord is with us. Because when we feel all the things and don't know how to process them, He is there to calm our storm. He is there to carry us through the storm. Feelings aren't reliable as facts, but boy, are they good at pointing to our need to spend some time with our Father. 

I pray that you'll find comfort in praying through these feelings with God. He's the safest One to turn to; He loves you like nobody else in the world ever has or ever will. It's an honor to teach you how to process these big feelings and an even bigger honor to see you building a relationship with Him. 

You are the answer to so many of my prayers, my angel girl. Being a mom is awesome. Being your mom? Well that's a privilege that's beyond compare. I like growing up right alongside you.

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

December 2016 - Recap

My sweet baby,

I'm still trying to process that you turn eight today, so if some of this recap is scatterbrained, you'll understand why.

Daddy and I changed things up for Christmas this year. I have a dear friend whose children make Christmas last all day because they play with each toy as they open it - as opposed to the "open a present up, toss it to the side, open another one up, toss it to the side, repeat ad nauseam" method that you (and many, I assume) kids take on Christmas morning. That causes all the presents to be opened in 20 minutes, then you're surrounded by a bunch of toys and you don't know what to play with first. And this often triggers meltdowns, bad attitudes, and poor behavior - not the kind of things I want to have on Christmas morning. 

So Daddy and I decided that you and Charlie would play with each toy as you opened it. At first you two looked very confused but once we explained how easy the day would go by doing things this way - and how you could possibly be opening presents up until dinner! - you were both on board. And Christmas morning turned out to be a dream! It was peaceful and joy-filled and thankful-filled. There was no sense of urgency, no sense of panic, and nobody got overwhelmed or grouchy. In fact, you two took so long opening presents that you still had one left to open on the 26th! A Christmas miracle!

We took a quick, impromptu trip to New Orleans between Christmas and New Years. We haven't been in years and it's one of our favorite cities, particularly because it's where Daddy went to college (and because of the beignets). It was such a short, busy trip but we all had such a good time. We ate some wonderful food (see above: beignets), road the street car, and saw a great dance troupe perform a show on the way to dinner. In fact, you got to perform with the dance troupe! They asked for kid volunteers and you shot your hand up as high as you could reach. You're such your daddy's girl. (While Charlie buried himself safely in Daddy's arms - he's such my child). You did a cute little dance with a few other kid volunteers and you got paid $20 for your work!

You sweetly offered to split your money with Charlie so you could both get some New Orleans souvenirs. You picked out a pretty, handpainted, purple wooden monkey with a coiled wire to place a picture in it. And Charlie picked out an alligator head. Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for January 1, 2017:

• New Year's massacre at Istanbul nightclub leaves at least 39 dead
• Vandal changes iconic LA sign to 'Hollyweed'
• President-Elect Trump calls Russia's Putin 'Very Smart'
• Hundreds Attend Light Saber Walk to Honor Carrie Fisher
• Queen, 90, Misses New Year Church Service Due to Heavy Cold

Month 61 - Recap

My darling boy,

You've prayed the sweetest prayers this month. I'm not sure if you've learned them at school or what - I need to ask your teacher about them. But when we do our family prayers before bed, yours have gone something like this:

"Dear God,  

Thank You for this day and thank You for Your love. (This is usually the standard prayer intro that you and Natalie use.) Please be with the widows and orphans and help the orphans all find mommies and daddies. And help those who are lost be found. And help those who are sick feel better. And please help our Christmas presents to be fun. Amen."

My sweet five-year-old is praying for widows and orphans, are you kidding me? My weepy Momma heart is a MESS.

Know what's also a mess? Your room. Know what's also a mess? Your ability (inability?) to share. But I digress. 

You had your Christmas program at preschool today. After all the kids loaded up on the risers on the stage, I could see you scan the audience looking for us. Once you found us your face broke into your huge Charlie Bear Grin. Then you tried to play it super cool by winking at me. Seriously. You winked at me. Then you gave me a little smirk. There you go making my Momma heart into another mess. Your special part in the program was playing the green handbell during Joy to the World. That song has never sounded cuter.

Just because my momma heart has been a mess this month doesn't mean it isn't pleased as punch with you and the young man you're growing up to be. My momma heart is full. Now go clean your room.

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Headlines for December 9, 2016:

• Obama orders probe of Democrat email hacks that rocked election
• 4 Homegrown Zika Cases Found in Texas
• Hero-Astronaut John Glenn to Lie in State in Ohio
• Giraffes Could Face 'Silent Extinction,' Conservationists Warn
• 'Will & Grace' star hints at reboot: 'There is a very good chance'

November 2016 - Recap

My sweet thing,
You did it!! It took 14 months - which is longer that you were wanting - but you did it! You're now a Level 2 gymnast. My heart practically exploded out of my chest when you came bounding into the lobby of your gym, squealing about the good news. Your evaluation had to be done privately because we were out of town for your regular evaluation. But it made it more fun, that it was just you, me, and the coach in the gym. The excitement was just for you and it was a sweet moment between you and me. This'll definitely go down as one of my favorites.

We put our Christmas tree up - and I have to commend you on your ability to decorate a tree. Your talent has improved a lot over the past year (and exponentially over the past two and three years). You understand the concept of scattering the ornaments (versus the Plop Them All in the Same Quadrant [PTAITSQ] method that your brother currently favors) and mixing up the patterns and textures as you scatter. It makes me a little wistful knowing that you two are getting old enough to decorate a tree in a way that doesn't pain my Type A heart but it does free up my evenings now that I don't have to rearrange the ornaments (the PTAITSQ method makes our poor tree very unbalanced and unsteady).

Charlie got a cold. Then he gave it to me. Then I gave it to Daddy. Daddy seems to have gotten it the worst, but Charlie and I have had a tough time getting rid of it completely. You have managed to escape the wrath of this nasty thing and I'm hoping you can stay cold-free because I'm ready for all four of us to be healthy. I hope the CEO of Puffs Plus is enjoying his new boat, courtesy of the Smith family.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for December 1, 2016:

• Buzz Aldrin Medically Evacuated From South Pole
• Trump Says He Will Separate Himself From Businesses 'in Total'
• Wisconsin first state to start presidential election recount
• The U.K.'s first-ever 'plastic' 5 bill has really upset vegans
• Country legend Dolly Parton announces fund for Tennessee wildfire victims
• 'Full House' Creator Buys Home Used in Show

Month 60 - Recap

My sweet FIVE-YEAR-OLD,
Yes, I meant to yell that part. I love birthdays and I love celebrating people and I love each new stage of my kiddos' lives. I've never been one to boo-hoo the passing of a previous stage; I'm the one who likes to look at baby and toddler pictures but doesn't long to relive those seasons of life again. So you being five is awesome, incredible, amazing, and such fun. You're such a great little boy.

I forgot to mention it in a previous recap but you got a ribbon in Ninja class for mastering the underswing move. What is the underswing move, you may ask? I have no idea. When I asked you, you were equally as clueless. Though you did provide this helpful tidbit of information: "Um, I think it was when I was swinging under something, Momma." Cool, thanks. That explains so much. Regardless, you got a cool ribbon. And when you're a kid, that's all that matters.

I made your birthday cake this year. You said you wanted a Lego birthday party, so a Lego birthday you had. And I made a Lego brick cake. Pinterest made it seem so easy ... famous last words. A few hours later and a few less-than-family-friendly words later, what was in front of me was a Lego cake. Or, well, a Lego-esque cake. Or, maybe, it perhaps would have looked like a Lego cake if you had the vision of Mr. Magoo and you didn't have your glasses on.

But the wonderful thing was that you liked it. You thought it was awesome. You thought it was the coolest cake in the world. And when you saw that I wasn't 100% happy with it, you put your arm around me and said "Mommy! It doesn't have to look exactly like the picture! I don't care about that! I think it looks awesome and I bet it tastes yummy!" I just love you, my darling boy.

(And you know what? It totally tasted awesome. Boom.)

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for November 9, 2016:

• Donald Trump is President-Elect of the United States (When you're older, we'll talk about this election, because DUDE. It was a hot mess. And this headline shocked practically everyone.)
• Trump Captures Presidency in Stunning Upset of Clinton
• Republicans Maintain Control of US Senate
• The Canadian Immigration Site Actually Crashed On U.S. Election Night
• 3 States Look Set to Legalize Recreational Marijuana Use
• Prince Harry Condemns 'Harassment' of Girlfriend

Year Five - Year End Review

Whole hand. That's how old you are - a whole-hand's-worth-of-years. Each finger represents a year of milestones (sleeping through the night! crawling! walking! potty training! eating something that wasn't beige! LIKING BATHS!), laughter (gut-busting laughter, to be sure, because you totally take after your momma in being hilarious), dirt (because, boys), noise (again, because boys), and sweetness (because you are, without a doubt, the sweetest, kindest boy in the galaxy). Oh, and dimples. The dimples are my fave.

So while I process all the wonders that have been your previous finger-ages, here are your Top 10 Lists:

10 Things You're Good At:

1. Being charming. Your smile + your dimples + your facial expressions + your personality = a bucket of charm
2. Being chivalrous. I don't open doors for myself when you're around. It's precious.
3. Swimming in the shallow end. You're nowhere near drown-proof and you won't jump off the edge of the shallow end (let alone the deep end) into the water, but once you're in the shallow end (after you carefully walk down the steps), you can toodle along the bottom of the pool for as long as your lungs will let you. You love it so much.
4. Riding your bike. Last year, you were a big ol' weenie and told me it was too hard to pedal your bike. This summer, you finally decided to stop being a weenie and start pedaling your bike. And now you zoom down the street really fast.
5. Getting sweaty. It's a given when you're a Smith, and you carry on the legacy proudly.
6. Building Charlie-original Lego creations. Your specialties are police boats.
7. Following the rules.
8. Practicing writing your letters. You can write your letters but you can't spell, so one of my favorite things to do is to get you to write out funny words without you knowing what you're writing. The first thing I had you write was BOO YAH, BABY! Being a mom is fun.
9. Coming up with weird reasons to wake me up at 3am. "My blanket fell off." "Patches [you stuffed dog] is upside down." "I didn't have a nightmare." Yep, you sometimes let us know that you *didn't* have a nightmare. That's so precious. But not really.
10. Being cautious. Five years strong.

10 Things You're Not Good At:

1. Taking your time when you color. You and a preschool friend have a race to see who can color pictures in the shortest amount of time. This causes your ar-teest sister and Type A mom a tad bit of angst. Your teacher assures me this is normal. This does nothing to calm my angst.
2. Hanging your clothes up the way I want you to. YOUR SHIRTS AREN'T ALL FACING THE SAME WAY! AND THEY'RE NOT IN RAINBOW ORDER!! HOW DOES THIS NOT DRIVE YOU CRAAAAAZY?? Oh. Is it because you're five and not a weirdo like your mom?
3. Keeping your spot at the table clean while you eat. Eating over one's plate is for sissies, I guess.
4. Mowing the lawn. Granted you can barely see over the handle and the mower weighs about the same as you do but that's no excuse. Make yourself useful.
5. Emptying the dishwasher without starting up a game of "Toss the Dishtowel onto Natalie's Head While Running By Her"
6. Jumping jacks. 'Flailing Spazzos' is a better name.
7. Balancing a checkbook. Shameful.
8. Writing small. It often takes you two lines (sometimes two pages) to write your name. My sincerest apologies we didn't name you something like Ty or Joe.
9. Doing a cartwheel. You do live with the Cartwheel Queen who "tries" to "help" you by "showing you" how to do one so maybe her "lessons" will eventually stick.
10. Saving your money for a good toy. The second you get more than $2, you spend it on the goofiest, junkiest toy that TJMaxx has to offer.

10 Things You Love:

1. Legos
2. Wrestling with Natalie
3. Preschool
4. Specific foods (not limited to, but not much more than: pizza, grilled cheese, mac & cheese, PB&J, snacks full of processed carbs, yellow and orange bell peppers, most fruit, cheeseburgers, chicken legs, all meat from a pig [atta boy!], most dessert)
5. Being read to
6. Superheroes
7. Star Wars
8. Baths. This one still makes me jump for joy after years of you screaming like a wackadoo during bathtime.
9. Dude Perfect videos and People Are Awesome videos on YouTube.
10. Hot Wheels/Matchbox cars

10 Things You Hate:

1. Lots of food (not limited to, but definitely including: all vegetables except raw yellow and orange peppers, cucumbers, and steamed broccoli - picky much?, beans, soup, shrimp, potatoes in any forms except French fries and tater tots, tacos, raisins, all sauces/dressings/dips, casseroles)
2. Being scared.
3. Disappointing people. You're a natural people-pleaser and you're genuinely sad when there's a chance you've disappointed someone.
4. Bugs. Thanks to the Great Yellow Jacket Infestation of 2014, you think every bug is a stinging bug.
5. Dogs. Or cats. Actually, you're not a fan of animals in general. There are a few pets belonging to some friends that you'll tolerate but that's about it.
6. When a child you don't know extremely well being in your space. It's even worse if this child touches you. You immediately tense up and look for an escape. I totally understand this but it's also unfortunate because many kids your age communicate the desire to play by grabbing a friend's hand and pulling them toward the direction of where they want the friend to go. Regardless, this does not sit well with you. So we work on ways for you to say "Please don't pull me. I don't like that." in a way that's kind but direct.
7. Being left out.

[When you're a pretty good-natured kid, your mom has a hard time coming up with more than seven things you hate. That's a good problem to have.]

A whole hand number of years ago, Team Smith was complete in its foursome-ness. It seems like yesterday you were born. It also seems like I've never existed without you in my life. Kids have a funny way of doing that to you, I suppose.

The bond that you and Natalie share is a beautiful (and loud) and special (and messy). I didn't have a brother, and while my memory is admittedly foggy, I don't recall KK and ever blowing raspberries in each other's faces or yelling in each other's ears. It's super gross and super noisy. But as long as you two aren't crying (of mild importance) and you two don't raspberry MY face (of critical importance), I don't interfere. A wise friend told me when you were first born was that it was important for you and Natalie to develop your own relationship, independent of me (again, as long as nobody's getting hurt). So I just sit back and listen to you two speak in a made-up language, wrestle on the bed, turn the big floor pillow into a boat, or build Lego creations. And then five minutes later, I listen to sighs, stomps, and eye rolls (did you know I can hear an eye roll? Well, I can. Booyah.) as you two fight over dumb stuff.

You are a joy to be around. You're funny, you're thoughtful, you're imaginative, you're silly, you're cuddly, you're sensitive, you're mine. You are a treasure, my angel boy.

My heart verges on the edge of exploding when I look at your sweet face and realize how thankful I am the Lord blessed our family with you. He knew just what He was doing when He made you. You are the perfect fit for Team Smith. You are my little man, my helper, my comic relief, my sweet soul, my hand holder. You are Daddy's little buddy, his gross boy-noise-making partner-in-crime, his Home Depot companion, his sports-watching sidekick. You are Natalie's pal, her wrestling partner, her confidante, her playmate, her forever best friend.

You are our Charlie Bear and we love you more than words can say.

Hugs and smooches,

Mommy & Daddy

October 2016 - Recap

My darling girl,
You knocked my socks off this month.

There's an activity book at a cool used bookstore in town that you have to have. I acknowledged your plight but politely informed you that it was too close to Christmas and too close to your birthday to buy a $20 book for you. You were thrown into the depths of despair but an idea quickly came to mind which allowed you to see the light. "Momma, what if *I* bought the book?" I told you that if you wanted to use your own money, you were free to get it. You jumped all over that idea but then you were back into the ol' Pit o' Despair again. "But Momma! It'll take me forevvvvvvvverrrrrrrrrr to make enough money when I only get $.50 for folding bath towels!!!"

That's when I informed you that because folding towels involves clean laundry, is a chore that can be done sitting down, in the air-conditioning, while you're watching TV, and takes 15 minutes, it's only a $.50 chore. If you'd like to earn more money, you'll have to do something that's dirtier, hotter, more uncomfortable, and takes longer.

Mopping the floor; cleaning toilets; sweeping the driveway and porch; raking and bagging leaves. These are all chores that are worth more than $.50.

You agreed to all of them, and then Daddy told you the lawn needed to be mowed. I've never seen a girl more excited to mow! Daddy told you if you mowed everything (front, back, and side yard), he'd pay you $10. I was fully expecting you to tap out after 15 minutes, earning a measly $2 or $3. But you blew me away. You hung in there the entire time, only needing Daddy to take over a few times. And it was almost completely dark for the last 10 minutes you mowed, but you didn't stop until everything was done. You. Did. It. And you earned a well-deserved $8 - and a nice, cool shower afterwards. (In case you're wondering, Daddy was right beside you the whole time, with one hand on lawn mower to help you keep it going in a straight line.)

I was so proud of you, my sweet girl. You did hard, manual labor - practically nonstop - for 90 minutes. You were a hot mess afterward, dripping with sweat and covered in dirt and grass clippings. But what stood out the most was your gigantic grin on your face. You were thrilled with yourself. And for the next few days, every time we pulled up to the house, you ran around the yard, marveling at your work.

You had every right to be proud - the yard looked great.

And by the way, it's time to mow again. Chop, chop.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for November 1, 2016:

• Trump Tells Early Voters to Change Their Ballots If They Have 'Buyer's Remorse'
• Huma Abedin lies low amid email probe
• FBI investigations into Trump-Russia ties yield little
• Justin Ross Harris' Ex-Wife Retakes Stand in Hot-Car Murder Trial: 'He Destroyed My Life'
• Boy's death linked to polio-like 'mystery illness'
• Bob Dylan: Nobel Prize 'Left Me Speechless'

Month 59 - Recap

My sweet boy,
You've been Lego-ing nonstop this month. You've built no fewer than 10 original police cars, police boats, and police planes. Your creativity is astounding.

Your preschool had their K4 Tea Party (it was actually a T Party, since you were learning about the letter T that week) a few weeks ago, and I'm just now beginning to recover from all the cuteness. I had heard about how fun it was from a friend whose older kids had all done it before but it wasn't until I experienced it with my own child, specifically my own boy, that I understood. It. Was. Precious.

For a few weeks before the party, your teachers worked with the class on manners, learning "I'm a Little Teapot", and practicing the polite way for young men to walk young ladies to their seats. Daddy wasn't able to come to your Tea Party so the night before the party, you showed him what you learned by leading Natalie to her seat. You held her hand and the two of you walked to the table. You pulled out her seat, she sat down, and you pushed her chair in. And you were none too quiet when you tried to push in the chair of someone who's three years older than you. You groaned, you heaved, you strained, you gave a gigantic WHEW! when you were done. All of us were laughing hysterically at this but we did have a little conversation afterward.

Me: Hey bud, please know you cannot make those noises when you push in the chair of the girl in your class. Girls rarely think it's funny when you make grunty noises when you push in their chair.
You: I know, Mommy! But Natalie just weighs SO much more than the girls in my class. It was really hard to push her in. I'm not that strong!
Me: Well of course you are. And also, don't comment on some girls weighing more or less than other girls. Girls rarely think that's funny either.
You: *sighs*

On the morning of the Tea Party you got dressed in a white button-down shirt, a blazer, a zipper tie (the best invention on the planet), khaki shorts, and slip-on shoes. (The last two items were because I can only push the fancy clothes thing so far with a four-year-old). You took one look at yourself in the mirror and said "I look like a businessman!" I agree. An impossibly adorable, incredibly precious businessman.

Your class was full of ties, hair gel, feather boas, flowers, hats, sparkles, lace, and jewelry. I loved it all.

You led a little girl to her seat without any problem and pushed her chair in with nary a sound. I was so proud. You used your manners while you ate and you kept your napkin in your lap. And then your internal stopwatch went off and you immediately wanted to stop with the Tea Party nonsense. You wanted nothing more than to change into your Batman shirt and favorite blue shorts. So we did (along with everyone else in your class). And the world was right.

I love that you participated in your Tea Party. I love that you know about manners (even if you don't use them all the time). I love that you hold doors open for ladies. I love that you're my boy. And I love that this is your last month before you become a whole hand years old. Say whaaaaa?

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

• Hurricane Matthew Kills at Least 20 in US as North Carolina Faces 'Major Destruction'
• Second Presidential Debate Promises Ugliness After Trump Tapes
• Rapid Response Poll: 43 Percent of Americans Say Trump Should Withdraw from Race
• Poll: Clinton Unpopularity at New High, on Par With Trump
• 5 Killed in Wrong-Way Crash Were in High School
• 'Warrior Dash' Climbing Obstacle Collapses; 4 Hospitalized
• Celine Dion Celebrates 1,000th Show in Las Vegas

September 2016 - Recap

My best girl,
I got to watch you be a really sweet friend this month and it filled my heart with such joy. It was during gymnastics class, and your coach had everyone carwheel across the length of the room. Most of the girls did just fine but there was one little girl in particular who was having a really tough time. Doing a cartwheel was really hard for her and watching almost everyone else in the class do them with ease was like pouring salt in the wound. The tears started falling and she just stood there, shoulders slumped, watching her classmates cartwheel by her. And then you got out of line, walked over to her and the coach (who was trying to encourage her by saying that everyone struggled with cartwheels when she first started out), and asked if you could help. I couldn't hear exactly what you said, but it looked like you suggested that you two do some cartwheels together, so she could get some extra practice. It was a simple act of kindness, but a simple act that showed so much character and so much kindness that I had to restrain myself from jumping out of my seat, running out onto the floor, and scooping you up into a giant hug. But then I remembered I had to be cool (not for my sake, but for yours) and I remained seated.

September is my birthday month. And birthdays were never as much fun as they have been since you were born. You'll have none of that 'adults sometimes forgo the whole cake and decorations and surprises thing for birthdays' nonsense and your sweet self insists that our birthdays are chock full of cakes, decorations, and oodles of surprises. My birthday started out with an early morning hug from my best girl and a beautiful homemade card (have I mentioned in the last five minutes that you love drawing?).

You also wrote me the sweetest, most precious poem ever.

This is the perfect evidence of God's existence right here. In His infinite grace and mercy, He's allowed you, my darling treasure, to focus on and remember a few good glimpses of my character instead allowing you to focus on and remember so many of my faults and failings. I feel like I mess up so much but this poem truly helped me breathe in God's grace and appreciate so deeply how you see me. Three cheers for grace, hip hip hooray!!!

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for October 1, 2016:

• Trump says Clinton 'should be in prison,' questions her health and loyalty to Bill
• Clinton Trounces in Debate Reactions; Trump's Unfavorability Edges Up
• NJ Transit Was Under Federal Audit Before Train Crash
• Caribbean Prepares to Be Slammed by Hurricane Matthew
• 23 Giant Panda Cubs Make Their Debut in China
• U.S. Adds Bees to Endangered Species List for First Time
• Alec Baldwin Debuts His Trump Impression on 'SNL' Premiere

Month 58 - Recap

My sweet K4er,
You're a few weeks into being a big, bad K4er and the verdict is two grubby thumbs up. Initially you were crushed to find out that none of your K3 buddies were in your K4 class but I assured you there would be plenty of boys in your new class for you to be friends with. You seemed a little unsure but you were still excited to meet your teacher and check out your room the day before school started. Once you saw the oodles and oodles of Legos and magnetic blocks and the smattering of other K4 boys, all was right in your world. We spent about an hour checking everything out, meaning that you and the other boys had an impromptu Lego light sabre battle while Natalie played in the dress-up area. On our way to the car, we stopped by to see your K3 teachers so you could give them both a gigantic hug. They're both ridiculously precious and seemed genuinely excited to see you. And they both oohed and ahhed over how big you'd gotten over the summer. Have you? Did I miss that? I swear you'll probably be 6'3" and I'll still be all, "Oh, are you not a size 2T anymore?"

You wanted me to walk you into class for the first week but after that, you insisted on you walking in yourself. The K4 teachers gently suggested to the parents that eventually (eventually! Not on week 2, punk.) they'd like for all the K4 kiddos to walk into class by themselves, to begin to foster some independence. I nonchalantly mentioned this to you late the first week and you were all "Oh, okay. But definitely not now. I like walking in with you, Momma." Boy, did your tune sure change just 72 hours later. I pulled to the curb, opened up your door, you grabbed your bag, kissed me, kissed Nat, and ran inside. I may or may not have cried a little.

You have becoming fully obsessed with Legos recently. Like, you've liked them for years. You've been obsessed with Duplos for years but Legos mostly annoyed you because they require dexterity that is typically outside the ability of a three- or four-year-old. But a switch got flipped and now all you want to do is play with Legos. You make no fewer than 10 random creations every day. You even wake up early to play with Legos before you eat breakfast. Sure it sounds adorable. But when bedtime comes around and you're going on not-a-full-nights-sleep-because-you-woke-up-early-to-play-Legos, there's a lot of unnecessary drama and tears.

You are already making birthday lists for your sixth, seventh, and eighth birthdays. I think you're taking the age ranges for big Lego sets a bit too literally. But I'll take that over you having a $500 gift list for your fifth birthday.

Side note, you often pronounce "fifth" as "five-th". It's adorable. You're adorable. Life is adorable with you in it, my sweet love.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

• Clinton calls Trump rallying cry racist, but used same slogan
• Love Lost: 9/11 Spouses Reflect on Life Without Their Partners
• Florida man's vehicle catches fire after charging Galaxy Note 7 explodes
• GM Recalls 4.3 Million Vehicles Worldwide for Software Defect
• U.S. 'Should Be Increasingly Worried' by Kim's Nuke Tests

August 2016 - Recap

My dearest student,
You're now a few weeks into your second grade year. And, full disclosure, it was a bit of a rocky start. Now your first day was a complete success and I was mentally high-fiving myself all day and concluding that all the hours I spent working on your curriculum obviously paid off because I'm such a homeschooling mom success story.

And then Tuesday came.

Tears, negativity, blinky blank stares, whining, not listening, daydreaming, and only an ounce or two of actual learning. Add in a few disrupting appointments, triple-digit heat, an achy head and neck, and Tuesday was just a big sack of crazy. And honestly, the next few days didn't fare much better.

For some reason (well, I know the reason. The reason is I often can't see the forest through the trees ...) I felt the need to get all of your schooling done while Charlie was at preschool. When you were in first grade, it was fairly easy. We even had a number of days where we finished early and had time to do some fun you-and-me stuff before we picked him up. But your second grade curriculum is more time intensive. (Because duh. Second > first) And I can't seem to get it all done before we leave to get Charlie. I was telling Daddy about this and he looks at me blankly and says "Um, who says you have to get it done before you get Charlie?" That was the little dose of reality I needed.

Instead of rushing to finish, instead of getting frustrated for you for taking too long to do your math work, instead of not allowing you the freedom to color more in between subjects (which is the joy of your life), we'll just take our time. We'll finish what we can while Charlie's at preschool and then we'll finish the rest in the afternoon. We'll have to figure out a new afternoon routine now that we're adding school into the mix but a new routine is much better than me trying to fit a second grade-sized square peg into a preschool-sized round hole.

This homeschooling gig brings to the surface so many of my faults. I'm not sure I like that. Hmph.

You can now do a legit handstand. Like a legs together, straight as an arrow, handstand. And you can do about a 98% legit split. And you're already homeschooled. So in your mind, you're all set for the 2024 Olympics.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for September 1, 2016:

• Florida's Gulf Coast Braces for Tropical Storm Hermine
• Willy Wonka Kids Pay Tribute to Gene Wilder
• SpaceX Rocket Explodes on Launch Pad
• Mexico President Rebuffs Trump: I Told Him We Aren't Paying for the Wall
• Pennsylvania professor goes on hunger strike over tenure denial

Month 57 - Recap

My sweet boy,
We went with Daddy to Men's Wearhouse to picked up his tux for a banquet that he and I went to recently. He walked out of the dressing room and Natalie immediately fell all over herself saying how handsome he looked (which he did - hubba hubba). But you, our dear sweet boy, you certainly have your own unique way of complimenting a be-tuxed man. You took one look at him and said "Daddy! You look like a fancy waitress!" We're so calling you 'a fancy waitress' at your prom. Or your wedding. Or whatever event where you look like James Bond.

You and Natalie have started playing in her room after you two get up in the morning. I can hear you two talking in the bathroom about the weird dreams you two have had and you talking about how "cwaaaazy" it was that Patches (your stuffed dog) was on the floor when you woke up, and Natalie sensibly explaining how when you move around while you sleep things can fall off your bed and onto the floor. Then I hear footsteps, Natalie's door close, and two muffled voices talking about who-knows-what. Sometimes it lasts for a few minutes, sometimes it lasts an hour. However long, I try to soak up that closed door and those sweet muffled voices because there must be some fun SmithKid stuff going on. Nobody's fussing or whining or arguing or pouting. There's only imagining, cooperating, giggling, and a whole heckuva lot of jumping on the bed. My morning coffee tastes the best when the background music is giggling and when the potential is high for Natalie's bed springs to explode.

You had an unfortunate encounter with a dog this month - as if you needed any more reasons to dislike dogs. We were walking up to the door to Panera Bread when a dog, on a leash and (presumably) asleep at its owners feet at one of the outside tables, lifted her head, saw you, didn't like what she saw, and reacted. It could have been your ninja shirt you were wearing (the one with the not-really-scary-but-not-totally-friendly pair of eyes on the front) or it could have been that this dog was a rescue dog and had been previously mistreated by a little boy. Who the heck knows; it doesn't matter. All I know is that one second the dog looked asleep and the next second the dog was up, barking, lunging at your side, and her tooth was caught in your shirt. Thank goodness your shirt was slightly too big or that morning would have gone much differently. Before I could do anything, the dog's owner shot out of her chair and restrained the dog. The owner was (understandably) horrified, you were (understandably) hysterical, and Natalie was (understandably) paralyzed with fear. I felt horrible. I held you for about 10 minutes while I talked to the dog's owner (who kept glaring at the dog, who kept her head buried under the table legs). I tried my best to show grace to the dog's owner, who really was a precious lady. I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt that she wouldn't have taken a little boy mauler to Panera Bread. I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt that she had know clue her dog would react like that. After we were safely within the four walls of Panera Bread eating our muffins, you looked at me and said "I TOLD you I wasn't a pet puh-sun [person], mommy! I'm just a puh-sun puh-sun." I don't blame you, kiddo. I might be a bear puh-sun - namely a Charlie Bear puh-sun, but that's the extent of my animal-loving self.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
Headlines for August 9, 2016:

• Clinton's Lead Over Trump Keeps Getting Bigger
• Paul Ryan Faces Off With Paul Nehlen as Wisconsin Votes in Primary
• King Edges Russian Rival as USA Wins Gold, Bronze in 100m Breaststroke
• Kerri Walsh Jennings, April Ross Make Quick Work of China in Beach Volleyball
• Gymnast Simone Biles in a League of Her Own
• Police Investigating Waterslide Death of 10-Year-Old Boy

July 2016 - Recap

My best girl,
July finally came which meant it was time for your bi-yearly dental visit. Which meant it was time for my bi-yearly reminder from your dentist that I'll need to spend a boatload of money for the boatload of orthodontia that your mouth (and Charlie's mouth) requires. You were both cavity-free, so that was pretty great. We celebrated by getting an ice cream cone. HA.

July finally coming also meant that it was time for art camp! You had two weeks of art classes this month, a week of black and white classes and a week of color classes. The classes were held at a local art studio - the kind of place where you bring a bottle of wine and a gaggle of girlfriends and an artist take everyone through the steps of painting a picture. Obviously the kids camp was sans wine but your teacher did a wonderful job of introducing you to the basics of drawing and painting, and walked your class through the steps of drawing and painting several pictures. You learned about shading and perspective, experimented with charcoal and watercolors, and filled your art book full of pictures of balls, jellyfish, and boats. Oh my. And teddy bears, gymnasts, and dresses. Oh my.

I'm your mom so clearly I'm 100% biased, and I know nothing about art so my opinion is essentially 100% worthless, but your I'm super-duper impressed with several of your drawings. My favorite is your charcoal drawing of a boat. Your brother/critic likes to tease you about drawing two boats but clearly brother/critics no nothing about reflections. Cuz, duh.

Keep it up, kid. Momma wants a sweet retirement home when she gets older.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for August 1, 2016:

• Cellphone videos sought in deadly balloon crash
• U.S. Launches Airstrikes on ISIS Stronghold in Libya
• Expert to Rio Athletes: 'Don't Put Your Head Under Water'
• Mike Pence Rally Interrupted by Protesters, A First for the VP Candidate's Campaign
• Get ready: The election under 100 days away
• 'Sharknado' rides marketing wave back to Syfy in latest sequel

Month 56 - Recap

My sweet boy,
You are Dothan's newest ninja. Oh wait - am I allowed to say that? Or is the first rule of being a ninja 'Don't Talk About Being a Ninja'?

Let's just assume it's safe to talk about.

I found out that Dothan offered this class for little boys a while ago, and had intended on signing you up right away, but never got around to it (Second Child Syndrome strikes again!). I finally did last month and you couldn't be happier. You wear a Super Cool Ninja Uniform - a black shirt with glare-y ninja eyes on the front and NINJA IN TRAINING written on the back and a black headband with NINJA written across the front. When you're all decked out, you look like a force to be reckoned with. With menacing dimples. And terrifying freckles.

I think you were expecting to do some serious American Ninja Warrior-type stuff in your class, and while you may one day graduate to the salmon ladder and warped wall, all ninja greats have to start at the bottom. And the bottom includes climbing over and jumping off of foam pads, rolling down inclined mats, walking along the balance beam, and doing ninja rolls (to the untrained eye, one might think they were somersaults. But one would be wrong. And one would be quickly chastised and loudly corrected and shown the error of her ways).

After those obstacles, you and your class head to the giant pit of foam blocks. I'm not gonna lie, it looks really fun. I kind of wish you little ninjas would leave so I could play in it. There's a lot of jumping, flailing, climbing, throwing, and falling. And then your teacher brings over the big rope so you guys can practice swinging on the rope and landing in the pit. Or, if you're four and your names rhymes with Barley, holding on to the rope with one hand, running toward the pit, throwing the rope out your hand, and belly flopping into the foam pit. Same difference, really.

After each class, you're as drenched as if you had just taken a shower with your ninja clothes on. The Sweaty Ninja has a nice ring to it.

A few weeks ago, Daddy put you to bed and you gave him a message for me. "Daddy, will you ask Mommy that I love her?" Will you ask Mommy that I love her?!! Ack. Your cuteness level is the best.

You have been on a serious Lego kick this month. You've already announced that you'd only like Star Wars Legos and superhero Legos for your birthday and Christmas. I asked you if that meant you were outgrowing your Duplos and you quickly reassured me that "No way! I'll probably have these Duplos when I'm an adult, especially because I want to be a Stay at Home Guy when I grow up." (You've got it in your mind that your dream job is to be a Stay at Home Guy. You can't pinpoint exactly what this job entails other than staying at home playing with toys. Solid plan from a four-year-old ...)

The Sweaty Stay at Home Ninja Guy has an even cooler ring to it. Not that you ever heard me talk about you being a ninja.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for July 9, 2016:

• Arsenal of weapons found in home of Dallas shooter who wanted to 'kill whites'
• Robot Bomb Apparently Used for First Time by Police in Dallas
• House GOP calls grow for FBI perjury probe into Clinton statements
• Players in hunt for Pokemon Go monsters feel real-world pain
• US Zika Infections During Pregnancy Climbs to 320, CDC Says
• Calvin Johnson's Retirement Reveals Pain Impossible to Ignore for NFL Players

June 2016 - Recap

My sweet girl,
We got back into the pool this month because in the South, there are only 12 minutes of springtime. Then it dives headfirst into SUMMER. There is no "summer". Only SUMMER. Last SUMMER, you started out in the pool pretty timid and nervous after such a long time being pool-less. This SUMMER, however, you acted as if there hadn't been 9+ months of a break. You jumped right into the deep end and swam to the shallow end over and over (and over and over). My goal for you for this summer is to be able to do an underwater somersault. You're about 90% there but then you freak out and undo that 90%. I keep telling you that undoing that 90% is way more work than just finishing the final 10% but it falls on deaf ears. You ain't got time for no logical thoughts from Momma.

Another goal is for you do be able to do a cannonball without letting go of your legs one nanosecond before hitting the water thereby doing a belly-flop-knee-flop-face-flop.

We tagged along with Daddy on one of his work trips last week. The hotels he stays at are usually really nice (read: nicer than where stay when we go somewhere as a family) and it's fun to go a different city, so whenever possible I like for us to go with him. This time it was in Daytona Beach. Our hotel was right on the Atlantic Ocean (on A1A ... BEACH FRONT AVENUE) and our room overlooked both the water and the little roller coaster and bungee jumping contraption next door. You and Charlie stayed up later than you ever have, but in doing so, we got to play in the Atlantic while we watched the moon rise and we got to watch this guy (whose name escapes me):



It's the first time you've seen anything like this before and you were mesmerized (and legitimately worried). You were peering through open fingers the whole time and kept asking "Momma, is he gonna be okay? Momma is he gonna be okay?" He was an excellent performer -- one second before the jaws snapped shut, he escaped from his strait jacket. You cheered and clapped and said to him after the show, "I'm really glad you didn't die." Amen, kid.

You went to VBS this month, too. And just like swimming this year when you showed no nervousness, you jumped into VBS this year with the Excitement Level cranked all the way up to 10. When I picked you up each day, you chattered nonstop about all the fun games you played and songs you sang. About all the yummy snacks you ate and all the nice kids you met. And you were plunged into the depths of despair (we just read Anne of Green Gables) on your last day because you wanted it to last forever. There was a Parent's Night on Thursday night where families come and listen to all the songs the kids have been learning all week. It was the most fun watching you on stage. You bounced nonstop while you were singing. You just get so excited when you sing that you can't possibly be still. I had a goofy perma-grin on my face as I watched my best girl dance and sing about Jesus. There just really isn't much better in life than that.

Tooth #7 kicked the bucket a few days ago. Now your smile is symmetrical and your Type-A momma can breathe a big sigh of relief (please know that I don't care that your smile was asymmetrical - wonky, little kid smiles always slay me, but in general, symmetry is my jam. But you > symmetry. I hope that makes sense.) In keeping with tradition, you completely forgot the previous six tooth losses and whined and cried and freaked out over the potential pain and potential blood. Honesty works the best for you, so I was all "Will it hurt? Sure, but maybe for three seconds and then it'll be over. Will there be blood? Probably, but I'm guessing not as much as Tooth #6. Are the hemostats scary? Well sure! Just close your eyes and problem solved! I'm 35 and even *I* keep my eyes closed when the dentist comes close to my mouth with one of his instruments." It took Daddy no time at all to pull your tooth and your whimpers quickly turned into giggles as you said "That wasn't bad at all!"

First thing the next morning, I made you write yourself a note to tell you to stop freaking out over losing a tooth. And I intend to make you read this note to yourself when Tooth #8 is ready to come out and you begin your Tooth Loss Amnesia hysterics. I don't have many quality, Original Mom Ideas but this one might make the cut.



Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for July 1, 2016:

• State Department seeks 27-month delay for release of Clinton Foundation emails
• Tesla driver using Autopilot feature killed by tractor trailer
• Texit? U.S. Secessionist Movements Seize on Brexit
• The 'Sully' Trailer Has Landed! See Tom Hanks as Hero Pilot
• Istanbul Airport Attack Victims Mourned, Honored, Praised
• Scientists report first amphibious centipede

Month 55 - Recap

My sweet boy,
I completely forgot to recap your end-of-the-year preschool program last month, my bad. I did, however, do a month's worth of your feeding, clothing, and providing for your every need. So there's that.

You came home from preschool a few month's ago and told me you had a speaking part in your end-of-the-year program. Outwardly, I was all "That's AWESOME, buddy! How exciting!" Inwardly, I was all "Do what? You're gonna do whaaaaaaa? Why did you agreeeeeee to this! Public speaking is scaaaaaaary!" (You'd think after a year of being in Toastmasters [even if it was about eight years ago], I wouldn't still be scared of public speaking. Yeah, well ...)

Your part was Ephesians 4:32 - "Be kind and loving to each other." You would periodically practice your verse with me at home, but most of the time you whined "I don't LIKE to pwactice at home! I don't NEED to pwactice at home! I do enough pwacticing at SCHOOL!" I didn't push you, but it was a relief to hear you say the verse to me every once in a while, just to reassure me that you did, in fact, know it and that the likelihood of you standing at the microphone going "I like grilled cheese sandwiches!" was reduced a bit.

We ended up snagging front-row seats to your program, so we had a prime spot to check out your public speaking debut. As soon as your class walked into the sanctuary, I could feel the tears start to well up. Gracious, I was a mess. Thankfully there was a smattering of adorable songs to cheer me up. And then it was your turn. You walked to the mic, looked out into the crowd (of about 50-60 people), smiled your wonderfully be-dimpled smile, said your verse loudly and clearly, then sat back down. Everyone clapped and I sobbed. You can't take me anywhere. This will probably just be the status quo whenever you do things in life. You do something, I cry. It'll be our little thing.

You've become interested, nay obsessed, with finding words that start with CH. Every time you see something that starts with CH - whether it's on a food package, the credits on a movie, or any word in any book - your face lights up and you screech "C-H, Mommy! Just like the C-H in the beginning of my name!" And how convenient that two of my favorite things happen to start with CH. Cheese and Charlie. In no particular order.

I've started a new bedtime routine with you and Natalie. I read about it online, loved it, totally stole the idea. After I tuck you in, I ask you a series of questions.

Me: Do I love you because you have cute dimples?
You: Nope ... but I do have cute dimples.
Me: Do I love you because you like to play with Natalie?
You: Nope ... but I do like to play with Natalie.
Me: Do I love you because you like superheroes?
You: Nope ... but I do like supuh-hewoes.
Me: Do I love you because you're a rascal?
You: Nope ... but I am a wascal!
Me: Why do I love you?
You: Because I'm yours!

The whole point of this little game is for me to point out unique qualities about you but to make sure you know those qualities are not the reason why I love you. Those qualities are wonderful but they're neither the source nor the reason for my love. That if those qualities somehow disappeared tomorrow, I would still love you simply because you're mine.

So while I love your dimples, I treasure the times that you and Natalie play together, I love that you think you're Batman and Captain America, and I love that you're a total rascal, those are not the reasons I love you. If you were a dimple-less kid who didn't enjoy playing with his sister, didn't like superheroes, and wasn't a rascal, I'd still love you. I love you simply because you're mine.

God loves you (and me - and everyone, for that matter) because you're His. God doesn't love you because you go to church or pray or follow the Golden Rule. God loves you simply because you're His child. His love isn't attached to what you do or don't do, where you go or don't go, what you say or don't say. You don't have to do anything, be anything, have anything for God to love you. God loves you simply because you're His child. And I pray this little bedtime game solidifies this truth in the deepest part of your precious, rascally heart.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for June 9, 2016:

• Blue Angels honor Fallen Marine Captain Kuss with Flyover
• Hillary Clinton Is First Woman To Secure Democratic Nomination
• How Trump is Fighting Both Hillary and His Own Party
• Maria Sharapova suspended for 2 years for doping
• Tel Aviv Shooting Leaves 4 Dead, Deemed Terror Attack
• Zika Virus Forces Tough Choices on Couples Seeking Fertility Treatment

May 2016 - Recap

My baby girl,
We're are a few weeks into summer vacation and you and I have come to the conclusion that summer would be nicer if summer wasn't so, um, summery. Playing outside loses its luster if you feel like your face is going to melt off your skull. So I try to throw you and Charlie outside with the sprinkler for some good ol' Vitamin D first thing in the morning. Thankfully our backyard is fairly well shaded until about 9am. At 9:01, however, it bursts into flames.

You've become a little worried over your snaggletoothed smile and crooked teeth. I keep reassuring you that all kids from the ages of 6ish to 9ish have some sort of snaggletoothy smile and that all kids with my Hulk-strong genes of janky teeth will indeed have crooked teeth, so there's no need to sweat it. This is usually met with a glare and a huff and a 15-minute long discussion on how braces aren't that big of a deal. Because they really aren't.

I've started a new bedtime routine with you and Charlie. I read about it online, loved it, and totally stole the idea. After I tuck you in, I ask you a series of questions.

Me: Do I love you because you have beautiful hair?
You: Nope ... but I do have beautiful hair.
Me: Do I love you because you like to sing?
You: Nope ... but I do like to sing.
Me: Do I love you because you're really responsible?
You: Nope ... but I am really responsible.
Me: Do I love you because you're super funny?
You: Nope ... but I am super funny!
Me: Why do I love you?
You: Because I'm yours!

The whole point of this little game is for me to point out unique qualities about you but to make sure you know those qualities are not the reason why I love you. Those qualities are wonderful but they're neither the source nor the reason for my love. That if those qualities somehow disappeared tomorrow, I would still love you simply because you're mine.

So while I love your hair, I treasure the Natalie Concerts I hear all day, I love that you are able to take care of Charlie when a migraine overpowers me and I have to lie down, and I love your quick wit, those are not the reasons I love you. If you were a tone-deaf kid with bad hair who was irresponsible and unfunny, I'd love you just the same. I love you simply because you're mine.

God loves you (and me - and everyone, for that matter) because you're His. God doesn't love you because you go to church or pray or follow the Golden Rule. God loves you simply because you're His child. His love isn't attached to what you do or don't do, where you go or don't go, what you say or don't say. You don't have to do anything, be anything, have anything for God to love you. God loves you simply because you're His child. And I pray this little bedtime game solidifies this truth in the deepest part of your precious, hilarious heart.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Headlines for June 1, 2016

• Yes, Child Trumps Gorilla. Can’t Even Believe That Actually Needs To Be Said ( ** No, this isn't typically the kind of headline I include in your recap, but I'm including it because ... well, because I can't even comprehend the madness ... when you're older I'll explain the kind of whackadoo world we live in where some people value the life of a gorilla over the life of a little boy. ** )
• Lawyers for Clinton aide block questioning on IT specialist who set up server
• ISIS reportedly uses hundreds of families as human shields to protect Fallujah
• Baby Born With Microcephaly in US to Woman Who Contracted Zika Elsewhere
• Surfing Star and Shark Attack Survivor Bethany Hamilton Impresses in Fiji
• Internet, Web Enjoy One Final Day as Proper Nouns

Month 54 - Recap

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy and Daddy

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Headlines for May 9, 2016:

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