Chips Off the Old Block

Last Friday, the girls ran their first real race--a one mile fun run at a local park. Before the race started they were both pretty nervous. Arden because she was afraid she was going to get run over and Claire because she was afraid when she won all the people would stare at her (she really needs a little more self-confidence, that girl).

They both loved it, which came as a complete surprise to me because the eldest child is not a fan of sweat or exertion and the middle child has a low threshold for pain/discomfort/face-planting ten yards from the starting line (that could've gone really badly).






They both ran hard and did really well. No need to dwell on the fact that both girls ran the mile in less time than one of their parents typically does, or that the younger sister came from behind to beat the older sister to the finish line.

We all know they'll be plenty of time for that in the next 15-20 years.

Arden's Prayer

Dear God,
Thank you for everything in the whole wide world.
I like my family.
I hope you're having fun.
I love Jesus.
Amen.

Arden and the Huly Hoop

This will make you smile

And if watching a baby laugh hysterically doesn't make you smile, well, then we probably can't be friends.

Because I Know You Love a Good Arden Moment

Today at (where else?) Wal-Mart, Arden was mad because I wouldn't let her buy (1) Star Magazine (2) a Dr. Pepper (3) a bleach pen (seriously. Who stocks those shelves near the check-out? Do they hate all parents, or is it just me? Are they TRYING to set my kid up for failure? Could they not fill those shelves with broccoli or cantaloupe or toilet paper?). Not recognizing Arden's bad mood, the sweet checker made the mistake of telling Arden her dress was pretty. This innocuous comment set off a string of rude remarks from AK, most of which were (thankfully) unintelligible thanks to the combination of her southern accent and inability to pronounce the letter r. I think the checker got the general idea, though, what with all the forceful finger pointing and furrowed eye brows going on.

In the car, I asked Arden why she was so rude to the checker.

"Because she said my dress was pity. It's not pity. You're pity, Mommy."

Well. What are you supposed to say to that?

Apparently, not "It doesn't matter if you think I'm pretty (which, by the way, thanks) you're still going to Time Out as soon as we get home. And you can forget about that ice cream cone you wanted."

Because, if you say that, all of a sudden you're not so pretty anymore. At least according to your three year old.

B--Double O-- T--Y, Oh My!

At her three year check up, Arden's pediatrician thought we should go ahead and do a vision screening on her. After covering Arden's eye, the nurse walked over to the vision chart and pointed to one of the shapes, "What is this shape, Arden?"

Arden, who was doing a little dance this whole time, paused for a minute. "Bootie."

The nurse pointed to the next shape. "What's this one?"

"Bootie."

"And this one?"

"Bootie."

By this time, Dr. P was laughing really hard. Never one to let an opportunity to be the center of attention pass, Arden seized the moment. "Bootie! Bootie! They're all bootie!"

I finally intervened. "Maybe we should just wait until her four year check up for the vision screening."

Total killjoy, I know.

After that day, Arden has put the word "bootie" in her daily vocabulary rotation. She works it in whenever she can--even when it makes no sense. Oh, wait, it NEVER makes sense. I'll give you some examples...

"Arden, would you like peanut butter or turkey for lunch?"
"Bootie."

"Arden, go put your swimsuit on so we can go to the pool."
"Bootie."

"Arden, what should we get Ashley for her birthday?"
"Bootie."

The other day I even caught her singing "Bootie, bootie, bootie, bootie," to the tune of "Jesus loves me." Frankly, I'm not really sure what to say about that.

Free

My second baby is three, or in her words, "free". I know it's cliche to ask this, but seriously, how have three years gone by already? Someone please tell me why my babies keep growing up on me.

Arden has been anxiously awaiting this birfday (her words) for weeks. It's as if she knows that "three" graduates her from the toddler category and places her firmly in the preschooler category. She is eager to get older, desperately trying to catch up to Claire, not understanding that she'll always be on a two and a half year delay.

She choose her potty (party) location herself. Chuck E Cheese--a location I agreed to only because Claire also celebrated her third birthday there. She was clear about wanting Tinker Bay-yell (Tinker Bell) on her cake and a new bike as her present. She decided on these details weeks ago and never once waivered from them.

That's one thing about my Arden--once she's made up her mind, she's made up her mind. This isn't always a good thing, as it makes for one very stubborn kid, but it does mean that she's not going to waste 30 minutes in the toy aisle at Target trying to decide what to buy with the $5 she got last week and then change her mind in the checkout line (claire).



She enjoyed every minute of her party--playing with her friends, meeting Chuck E Cheese, blowing out her candles three times, opening her presents (especially opening her presents) and having a day that was all about her.




Free years old. Can you believe it? I guess this means it's time to give up the paci. Also the biting. And, probably the hitting and pinching. Hmmm...Looks like we have a big year ahead of us.

Big Girl Stuff

So. It seems I have a couple of other kids who, over the past few weeks, have been sidelined (at least in terms of this blog) due to that four letter word called PHPV. They have remained blissfully unaware of what's going on with Amelia, other than to mention her in their nightly prayers, and I'm grateful for that. But, because time marches on, my big girls continued their normal activities and had a lot of fun in May.

The Dance Recital That Almost Never Was...Arden decided at the rehearsal that she "hated that stage," "hated that tutu," "hated that song," "hated those shoes"... You get the point. It took major coercion to get her there, and then there was a brief heart stopping moment when her class took the stage and we heard a familiar "HEEEYYYYYYYY...." coming from the dark stage. But once the lights came up, Arden seized the moment and took command of the stage.

Claire, of course, was excited to be on stage and looked beautiful in her big pink tutu. Because she doesn't like to do anything incorrectly, she had her head turned to the side almost the whole time, watching her teacher performing the moves in the wings.
















Summer gymnastics started and my little Mary Lous were so excited they could hardly stand it (could someone please tell Claire that the hang loose sign is
1987?).



Mother's Day Tea at Claire's preschool. Claire's class put on a performance for all the moms and then presented us with gifts and tea and cookies that they had made. It was soooo cute!


Arden's End of the Year Program. She had the same feelings about this stage as the one at the recital, but again, once on stage, she totally hammed it up. And she kept her hat on the whole time--a big surprise.


Last Day of School. And Claire's last day of preschool. Ever. I don't have to tell you how sad that made me, although I know she's so ready of kindergarten.


May was a complete blur, for so many reasons. This year, we're particularly thankful for lazy summer days.

I Think She's On To Us

With our Disney trip just weeks away, Jason and I have been using Mickey's name in vain to get our children to behave. Over the past month, we've been known to say things such as: "If you do that again, I'll call Mickey Mouse and tell him you can't come to Disney World." Or "If I hear you say that again, I'm telling Mickey and he won't let you ride any rides." Or, perhaps taking it a bit too far, "If you can't be a good girl, Mickey Mouse will not be your friend. He only wants to hug nice girls."

Today as Arden was misbehaving (what?! Arden, no not her!), Jason told her that he was going to call Mickey Mouse if she didn't straighten up.

Arden looked him straight in the eye and said, "And Santa and the Easter Bunny too?"

There Once Was a Girl

Dear Arden,

I am so thankful for you. You light up the room with your sweet dimpled smile and big blue eyes. Your laughter is infectious. You are naturally funny and so, so silly. You say "Ahhh, she's cute" as you peer over baby Amelia and you give frequent, uninvited hugs and kisses. You make us laugh everyday and sometimes, when I look at you, my heart feels too big to fit inside my chest. You are a sweet, special gift from God.

But you are also a turd.

Someday, I'm sure I'll look back on this time in your life and chuckle at your antics. I'll smile fondly as I recall the time you bit the sweetest boy in your class at school. And the time you bit his eight year old sister at a church gathering. I'll giggle as I retell the story of you shouting "GO AWAY" to an elderly man at Red Lobster and the time you said "I hate that girl" to the unassuming checker at Old Navy. I'll laugh nostalgically as I remember the way you used to steal things from Claire and then run away, laughing hysterically as she collapsed on the floor in a sobbing heap. All the times you had to sit in time out at dance and school, all the times you humiliated me by saying hateful things to strangers, all the times you made Claire cry, all the times your defiant behavior sent me to the brink of insanity, all these times will make me laugh and long for the old days.

But now is not that time. Now is the time to order parenting books off the internet and ask random strangers for advice. Now is the time to pray that you make it through a school day without biting, hitting or scratching another child. Now is the time to make sticker charts and reward good behavior while punishing bad behavior. And now is the time to realize that this, too, will pass.

And when it does, at least I'll have some good stories to tell at your wedding...

The Last Laugh

Scene: Jason and girls waiting in mini van while I run into store to buy a baby gift.

Claire, whining: Why do we have to wait in the car? It's so boring.
Claire, whining louder: I don't want to sit here. It's booorrrring.
Claire, whining even louder: This is sooooo boooorrrrriiiiiinnnnnggggg!

Arden: Blah, blah blah....

Claire: Stop it it, Arden.

Arden: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah

Claire, whining: Stop it, Arden.

Arden: I not crying.

Claire: Well, you pee in your pants, AR-den.

Arden, passing gas and laughing: I just bookied.

Pictures...

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Lots to catch up on, but for now, how 'bout some pictures?

Amelia really liked her first real bath and Claire was so glad that her cord fell off that she kept asking to see her belly button to make sure it was still gone.


Amelia's first Sunday at Church. Everyone was all dressed up in their matching dresses that my friend Sarah made for them. This, unfortunately, is the best picture we were able to get that morning (thanks, Arden).


During the ice storm, we spent a lot of time playing our new Wii (once we got our power back). The girls were in denial that it was icy and freezing outside, hence the swimsuits.


Amelia enjoying some time under the play gym. This is not something she gets to do often, as it tends to be a little hazardous (thanks, Arden).


Does my head make this flower look big?


My one month old!


My FIVE year old!


My two year old who just realized that it's not her birthday too.


Five going on Fifteen..

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

If you are a new mom, operating on a total of about four hours of sleep a night, you might be tempted to buy yourself five minutes of peace and quiet by giving your 2 1/2year old a pair of safety scissors, a stick of glue and a stack of construction paper. You will tell her to "go to town" and watch as she cuts and glue to her heart's content. You might see this as an opportunity to take a potty break and leave her unsupervised for about ten seconds.

You will regret this.



It will take you a few minutes to realize that you are looking at a pile of hair. Real hair. Not Barbie hair or My Little Pony hair. Arden's hair. You will begin to exclaim, "OH, Arden!" as you try to process what's just happened. The 2 1/2 year old will think she looks very beautiful and will tell you over and over, "I so pitty," as you frantically search her head for the origin of all that hair. You will find it directly on top of her head, about half an inch from her scalp.



You will eventually realize there is nothing you can do about the bald spot on her head so you will take a picture and put it on your blog. Then you will hide all the safety scissors in the house--and the glue, just in case she decides to get creative with all that hair.

Kid's Say the Darndest Things--Post Partum Edition

Arden, upon seeing Claire getting to hold the brand-new baby sister first: Hhhhheeeeyyyy! I want to hold that!


Claire: Mommy, did you get some stitches after they took the baby out?
Me, hesitating: Yeeeeesssss....
Claire: In your belly button?
Me: Is that what you think?
Claire: Yeah.
Me: OK
Claire: Then did they have to push your belly button back down when they were done?
Me: Ummmmm....That's pretty close to how it happened.


Claire, looking at my tummy: I thought they took the baby out.
Me, surprised: They did. She's right there.
Claire, poking my tummy: Then what's this?


My nephew, Connor, looking at my tummy: Is your baby still in there?
Me: No. Your daddy is holding her.
Connor, poking my tummy: What's this?
Me: Well, unfortunately it just takes a little while for big baby tummies to go back to normal.
Connor, looking skeptical: So you don't have another one in there?


Claire, getting too up close and personal while I was nursing Amelia: What's she doing?
Me: She's eating.
Claire: No, she's not. She doesn't have teeth.
Me: Well, she's having milk.
Claire: From where?
Me: From me.
Claire: Yeah, but where does it comes from?
Me: From Mommy. She gets her milk from me.
Claire: I know. But where does it come from?
Me, sighing: Claire, it just comes from Mommy's body. When you're a Mommy, you'll have milk in your body too.
Claire, impatiently: I know it's from your body but WHERE is it coming from?!
Me: From my boobies, OK? She gets it from my boobies.
Claire, smiling triumphantly: I knew it!

Perfect Timing

I am sitting at my kitchen table, trying to enjoy a healthy snack of an almond chocolate bar, goldfish crackers and a dr. pepper (no, I have no idea why my belly is measuring two and half weeks ahead, why do you ask?), listening to my two year old screaming in her room and kicking the headboard on her bed. It's been going on for an hour.
If she hadn't been doing this every afternoon for the last week, I'd brush this off as a random event. However, I fear she might be trying to make a habit of this. Given that baby #3 is set to arrive a week from today, I find this worrisome. I need naptime, people. Any suggestions?

Christmas 2008

Just like birthdays, we like to drag our Christmas celebrations out as long as possible. We started on Christmas Eve and decked the halls until Saturday afternoon. The girls had a really great time this year and we loved watching them experience the magic and joy of Christmas.

Our first stop was at Nana and Grandad Jack's house on Christmas Eve.



Claire was super-excited to receive this gift, which she wanted last year but was recalled before Christmas.


Arden can't get enough of the princess experience, and really, who can blame her?


After the festivities at Nana's, we went home and got ready for Santa. The girls were extra excited because cousin Connor got to spend the night with us this year. The kids wrote a note to Santa and got busy setting out carrots for the reindeer and a plate of (store-bought, kind of stale) cookies for Santa.



Claire was extremely worried that Arden would get out of bed and Santa wouldn't come. I guess I over-emphasized the whole "Santa only comes after all the children are asleep" thing. Luckily, everyone went to sleep and the grown-ups were able to assemble all the fun things Santa had selected for the kids, including a four foot wooden dollhouse that came with two pages of instructions. Two pages of steps 12-20 of the instructions. No 1-11 to be found anywhere in the box. Santa seriously needs some quality control up there at the North Pole.








Later that day we were off to "The Farm" for more Christmas fun, including a hay ride (I did not participate this year), skeet shooting (didn't participate), four-wheeler riding (also did not particpate) and lots of trampoline jumping (again with the non-participation). Now that I think of it, maybe I should've joined in on some of those activites. Maybe I'd be holding the new baby by now...



We continued our Christmas experience all the way until Saturday, spending time with Aunt Ashley and Uncle Thad and Aunt Darla, Uncle Butch, Alsion and Nana Vel.

We had a truly wonderful Christmas this year. The girls were gracious with their gifts and only asked for additional presents a few times. I consider this a big accomplishment for a two and four year old. And, in case you were wondering, Santa came through for Arden with the makeup...

What a Difference a Year Makes

Last year's visit with Santa did not go so well. This year, Arden has been really excited to sit on Santa's lap and tell him that she wants him to bring her make-up for Christmas. Claire, of course, has always loved Santa and has never had the kind of freak-out that Arden had last year when she came face-to-face with the man in red. Since both girls were so eager to visit Santa, we bundled them up last night and braved the freezing temperatures to go see Santa.



We picked a perfect night. There was no line at all and the girls walked right up and got to spend several minutes with Santa without having to hurry through. Arden took full advantage of this, telling Santa over and over that she wanted him to bring her some make-up. Claire was very polite and asked for a two wheel scooter and a baby doll (not the dollhouse that she told me she was going to ask for).

All in all, it was a successful visit. Now "Santa" just has to come up with some non-toxic, stain-free make-up and figure out what to do with the dollhouse he has in his trunk.

One Little Indian

Yesterday was the Thanksgiving Feast at Mother's Day Out. Arden's class dressed up like Indians and, as you can see from the pictures, she thought she was pretty cute. Not sure about the historical accuracy of a blond haired, blue-eyed Indian at the first Thanksgiving, but who cares about details when you look that cute with a headress on?

I Would Like to Be the New Spokesperson for Dell

I don't want to brag, but since my blog is called "Shameless bragging," I guess you kind of expect it. So here goes. I got a new laptop and not only does it have an operating system that was developed in this decade, it also has something I didn't even know existed: a memory card reader. Right there on the computer. No cords required. Do you know what that means to someone who broke her camera and can't upload her pictures???

That means I can show you this



And this



And this



Not to mention this (which has nothing to do with Halloween but is too cute not to post)


Three cheers for technology!

I Should Feel Bad About This

While Arden was napping this afternoon, I raided the treat bag she got at her Mother's Day Out Halloween party today. I ate all the chocolate. I sense that I should feel badly about this, but come on, she's two. She still thinks smarties are just as good as mini milky ways. Amateur.