Kitty Party

You know, Missy started Meowing before She said Her first word.  It is a great mystery of life how a lithe girl raised in a family of dog-lovers could become such an adamant cat person, but here She is.  OBSESSED.  So when I started to ask Her what kind of birthday party She'd like this year, I didn't even get the whole question out of my mouth before She began dancing around hollering "Kitties! Kitties! Kitty pah-tee YAY!" 

And so, though I had the uneasy feeling of enabling an addiction, we went for kitties.  How can you have a kitty party?  Just like, put some yarn out or something?  Hmm.  Some brainstorming with Miss and Little One got ideas going and pretty soon we ended up with the kittiest party I think Miss could have asked for.  It was a lot of fun! 

When our guests arrived, they stopped at the "cat shelter" and picked out a new cat to adopt.  

They named their new friend and filled out an adoption certificate and "license" tag, and chose a cat carrier to bring it home in.  

free printable adoption certificates from chickabug

Of course, the carriers and name tags needed a little decorating first.  

Then they went over to the animal hospital and gave their new pet a thorough check-up.  

We had some doctor kits out, and a favorite cat anatomy and fact book for reference.  There were cat eye-charts, dental charts, and physical forms to fill out with crayons, and band-aids and bandages for those who were diagnosed with owies.  

All the cats finished their visit with a Rx for some vitamins (fruit snacks) to take home. 

After that they went over to the pet shop so they would have all the supplies they needed to care for their new pet.  

They picked up some cat food (chocolate cereal), a food dish (painted baby food lids), and a cuddly blanket.  

They they got to fashion a collar out of ribbons and craft a toy for their cat out of pipe cleaners, feathers, and beads.  

Now that they were all set, our new cat-owners went to the "fancy feast" for snacks. 

 

Fish stick and chicken nugget "catch of the day"

cat-nip dip and veggies

strawberry mice with twizler tails

goldfish in a bowl (swedish fish in jello)

canaries and kitty chow (chex mix)

goldfish punch (just blue Hawaiian punch and sprite)

And, of course, cake.  I had a lot of fun making this cake.  Marshmallow fondant is like grown-up play-dough.  Everything was vegan and allergy-safe, so we didn't have to worry about anything.  

Little Miss loved the party.  She was very specific about Her guest list, and was so happy that Her best friends from school and play group were there to play with Her.  

Mister's kitten onesie, along with Little One's shirt and Missy's skirt made by my mom!

"MEEEEOWWW!"

She was in Her element with all the cat-ness.  

As usual, the only thing She wasn't so happy with was the moment She was forced into the center of attention.  

All those staring, singing people just weird Her out! She hid behind Her hands and whispered to Little One, "You do it, sissy!"  So Little One helped Her out and blew out the candle for Her.

  

Of course, getting to eat the cake helped Her make a quick recovery.  

I usually make a piñata, but for a cat party? The idea of bashing a cat in effigy seemed a little morbid. So instead, I drew faces and ears on easter eggs and added yarn tails to make them look like mice.  We filled them with goodies and J hid them while the kids had cake.  Then all our kitty friends ran out onto the playground for a mouse hunt!

caught one!

We ended the fun by running off all the sugar on the playground.

Little Miss had ballet right before the party, a quick nap after and then attended the party of a couple of Her friends who share a birthday week.  Then She and Little One headed over to their weekly swimming lesson!

It was an absolutely jam-packed, could not possibly have fit in any more fun kind of day.  Missy had a great time- we all did!  Happy Birthday to our Little Miss kitty-cat lover.  We think She's the cat's meow! 

We seem to have some beverage issues.

Little Miss is getting a little ahead of Herself with this growing up business.  Example one, via Her teacher:

Missy and Her math teacher were practicing counting.

Miss: "I am three! Next I'm gonna be fo-ah, and the fahv, then six, seven, eight! And then! I will be old enough to drink wine!"

Example two:

C: "what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Miss (sighs over the lameness of the question): "a growed up person, mom."

C:" Ok, but what do you want to DO when you're a grown up then?"
Miss: "hmm. Drink soda!"

Little Miss THREE

Wow. Three. Beyond the border of toddlerhood, officially edging into real kid-ness.
Little Miss, at three, is a dichotomy.  A paradox.  She is everything at once.
She is the sweetest, most darling little charmer you could imagine.  She is the most stubborn, obstinate, patience-testing pillbox she can be.  Depending on the moment.
Little Miss has the ability to cause my jaw to drop in disbelief an unlimited number of times, because really? Really did She just say that? Really?
A reaction comprised of either horror or adoration.  Depending on the moment.
She occasionally rebels against Her sister's "leadership qualities", but She is Little One's biggest fan.  She occasionally looks at my lap with a covetous expression, but She dotes on Mister with an amazing gentleness and loyalty.  She is an utter and unabashed Mama's girl, full of hugs, cuddles, compliments, and "I love you"s, and also has no qualms whatsoever about screaming "NO" right in my face, or staring me down with the unwavering, menacing glare of a show-down cowboy.
I'm glad I waited a bit to write this post, actually.  It's given three a little time to sink into Little Miss, and I have to say I see changes already.  Part of it may be the fuss we are making over how She is THREE now, and SO big and grown up. Now that She is THREE She is certainly, magically, able to swim like a big kid (no tears) at lessons, to make Her bed without help, to button Her own jacket.
It might be that the pride in our faith of Her Big Three Year Old abilities has puffed Her up enough to carry Her out of a grumpy slump. Because already, the gloomy faces of Two are fading away.  I hope She keeps rounding this corner and comes out a little ray of sunshine, Peanuts, because between you and I, the tweenage years with this one were looking fierce.
These days, though, there are a ton of loves (and only a few pounds of opposition), and a lot of helpfulness, as well.  There are tragedies, comedies, and triumphs.  I would need a panorama lens the size of Wyoming to capture all that is Missy at Three, but below are some highlights.  A Cliffnotes version, believe it or not.

Acheivements
Missy has learned a lot in the last year.  She can:
- Count to 30
- Recognize all Her upper/lowercase letters and their sounds
- Spell some 3 letter words
- Spell, read, and write the words: Little Miss, Little One, Mommy, Daddy, Yes, No, Van, Umbrella, Whale, Train, and Zipper.  (last 5 courtesy of a favorite spelling game)
- Do simple addition
- Memorize entire books, songs, and what you said when you thought She wasn't listening.
- Button buttons, zip zippers, and otherwise dress Herself .
- Destroy you at a game of memory.  Seriously, you have no chance.
- Draw happy faces and hearts, write several letters.
- Do all Her chores without help:
   * Dress Herself, brush Her teeth and hair, put on Her sunscreen, sort dirty laundry by color, fold clothes and put them away, put away silverware from the dishwasher, set and clear the table, sweep under Her chair, clean up after Herself, make Her bed, "orga-zize" the shoe closet and toy shelves, dust furniture and baseboards, peel carrots, chop veggies, measure and stir baking ingredients, and entertain Mister while I put my makeup on.  Oh, and She's perfectly able to put Her own makeup on, rather to my horror.
- Almost ride a tricycle.  So close, guys, so close.
- Make it to the potty. Day, night, no biggie.  Now, when something upsets the perfect order of Her universe (like we are not at home, or we have a visitor, or we stayed up late to see a movie), She may have an accident at night.  Not totally sure if it actually is an 'accident'.  But it's a rare thing, anyways, and I take for granted these days that She is pretty much as potty-trained as the rest of us.
- Entertain Herself for hours.
-Beat adults in an argument.
- Tell amazing, cinematic stories about things that happened to Her "when She was little".
-Manage to make anyone laugh, any time.  Even- especially- when you're trying to be really mad at Her.

Not-So-Much-Loves
Missy doesn't hide it when She's not thrilled.  Here's what gets the infamous grumpy-face:
-Bell peppers. WHyyyyyy?! She'd decided She won't eat them and it drives me crazy.  CRAzy.
- Any food She usually loves, just because. She loves this eggplant moussaka I make. It's a family favorite. But occasionally, for no reason, She will cry at dinner because She can't stand eggplant. Today.  Tomorrow She will love it again.  But all things are subject to this capricious revulsion.
- Swimming. She tries guys, She does.  But She gets in the water and the pouty face comes out.
- Anything She isn't already good at.
   This is the trouble with swimming.  It's why Her teacher didn't know until I told Her that Miss could spell.  Why She asks me ALL the time what foot Her shoe goes on.  Because until She's had a chance to perfect a skill *in private with NO one watching*, She can't stand to attempt it with an audience.   
- Being told what to do.  By ANYone.  This child. She gives me gray hair, but She will Hillary Clinton it up someday, just watch.
- The Unknown.  Little Miss LOVES who She loves.  But you have to stick around a good long while to make that A list.  She is not so sure about strangers, and takes Her time warming up to people.  She needs encouragement to try new things.  While undeniably brave, Miss is cautious.
- Owies.  Ok, She's emotionally brave.  Physically? Paper-cuts, stubbed toes, and even imaginary owies need kisses and band-aids.  In fact, She might need to go to the hop-i-tal.
-Making Her bed. She can do it.  But She doesn't want to.
- Getting dirty.  Miss is a clean-freak.  If She gets mud on Herself while playing outside, it is an instant pause to change clothes and wash up before She can play (at making mud-pies or splashing in puddles) again.  She doesn't like kneading dough or finger-painting for this reason.
- You.  Your face.  Your voice. Your stuff.  Whatever you are doing.  If She's in the mood to be grumpy, no one is spared.  When Grumpy hits, all of us are NOT-HER-FRIEND.

Loves
- Me.  What can I say, Peanuts? I'm awesome.  And/or I spoil Her the most.  You know, whatever.
- SISSY.  Probably should have put this as number one.  Missy idolizes Little One, adores Her, and hates to be without Her.  Last time Miss had to go to school alone because Little One was sick, She cried "Siiissssyyyyy!" all the way to school.  Little One is Her best and most cherished friend.
- Brother. Little Miss is so sweet to Her Mister-baby.  She is exquisitely gentle with Him.  She Has observed Him quietly a long time (as She has most everything) and sometimes when He fusses tells me, "He wants His paser-fy-uh, Mommy" or "He's getting hungry" or "He doesn't like that toy any-mo-ah." And She's almost always right.
-Books.  Missy loves few things as much as books.  It makes me both proud and a little sad to too how terribly, terribly badly Little Miss wants to know how to read.  She is trying very hard to learn. In the meantime, She begs for favorites to be read to Her a BAZILLION times, until She has memorized the whole thing.  Then She sits at "nap" time and pores over it, page by page, "reading" it to Herself.
- Art.   A runner-up.  I could probably throw away most of the toys in our house, and as long as I left the art area Miss would never even notice.  She spends most of Her free time coloring, drawing, and affixing stickers.
- Cats.  What the? Where did She get this?! No one knows.  But She loves cats. Kitties. Kittens.  All things feline. Her favorite lovies are kitties and She likes to pretend either to be or own a cat.  She still occasionally Meows when She is sad or hurt or in need of extra affection.
-Ballet.  Since we saw the nutcracker Miss has been all about ballet. She started lessons in January and loves every inch of it.
- Cuddles.  Miss has become the ultimate, world champion cuddle bug.
-Playing outside. Especially if there is swinging and unless She gets dirty.
- Soy milk. Salmon.  Cabbage Carrots, Broccoli, Salad, Kale, brussels sprouts.
 Spicy food. All fruit, especially frozen fruit.  Olives and pickles, anything sweet.
- Predictability, routine, consistency.
- To change Her mind.
-To make You laugh.  This child is hilarious.  She tells jokes, notices puns, teases and sillies us all into laughter all the time.  She's actually really funny. And Her own laughter?  Infectious.

Altogether
Miss is full of personality, full of attitude, full of silly, full of love.  She's tough because She's a little sister and has to be; She's gentle and needy because She's sensitive and quiet by nature.  She scowls when She's upset or anxious, but those of us who know Her at all know the truth; that really She's an intensely loving, loyal, sweet sunshine of a Little Miss.  She is showing hints that the challenges of Two (mostly caused by wrestling with whether to grow up or be mommy's baby forever) are fading and the joys of three (definitely growing up) are full-on fantastic.
I am so lucky to be the mama to this feisty, huggy, smart and sweet little girl.  I can't wait to see what's ahead!

  

Everyone Has Fun

My mom and I took the Littles to get some frozen yogurt.  The Skinny Dip has a machine dedicated to vegan froyo, and therefore always safe for Little One.  So it's a favorite stop for us.
Little One and Missy were sitting in the adorable retro kids table, loving their treats, and Little One read the sign over the table.

Little One: "Mom.  It says: 'for little dippers'.  What does that mean?"

C: "Well, read the rest of it."

LO: "Ten- and- under- on-ly".

C: "Right. You have to be younger than ten to sit there.  It's just for kids! Sometimes kids get to do awesome stuff that grown-ups aren't allowed."

Missy pipes up: "Oooh! Yeah! Like, like like.  Like, run! And Play! Play with TOYS!"

C: "Yep, kids get to do awesome stuff. It's fun to be little."

Missy: "Yes! LIKE! KISS THEIR MAMAS!! And hug their friends. Fun stuff.  And, ooh.  I love my sissy. It IS fun to be little! And big.  And medium sized.  So.  Everyone has fun."

Yep.  Especially when they get ice cream.  

Someone's THREE!

Long winded posts and photos to come after Her party tomorrow!  For now, we will just say that we're all excited to have a brand new three year old. And guess who's the most excited of us all? 

Happy THREE Little Miss!

Luck of the Irish

I hope you had a Happy St. Patrick's Day! I hope you didn't get pinched.
The holiday was a big buzz around here all month, thanks to the preschool talking up leprechauns and preparing to attempt catching one.  The class made a leprechaun trap, and on St. Patrick's Day came to school to find that though one had apparently been caught, it had escaped to wreak havoc on the whole school.  It was a mess, everything mixed up, green stuff and gold confetti everywhere.
Little One is my tiny inventor.  She created several ingenious and complex traps out of discarded boxes, construction paper, and glue.  She added gold coins and made a whole leprechaun habitat to entice one in.  She spent hours on these traps, and they were pretty cool.  Missy made quite a few Herself. Hers were more streamlined in design, but elaborately decorated with rainbows of color.  They took most of them to school to aid in the greater effort of the class, but each set one out at home too, just in case.  Sadly leprechauns are very tricky, and we didn't catch any.  But they must have been impressed by the effort, because each Sister found a shiny quarter in their trap in the morning (I'm thinking of setting some myself next near), and they did find their oatmeal had been turned green with yellow raisin chunks of "gold" at breakfast.  As for me, I caught three mischievous leprechauns.  I wore my green, didn't get pinched, and can say for sure that I was very, very lucky.

Three Months

Little Mister, as the third child, is doomed to comparison.  Friends are always dissecting Him with me- whose nose does He have?  Whose lashes?  No one has to ask whose furrowed brow that is.  It's like nature xeroxed it off of Missy and pasted it there.  With first and second babies people tend to look and see which parent is resembled.  With third babies, I've noticed, the question is "which sibling is He exactly like?" As if there could really only be two results, and we've already created them.
In the end, of course, the answer is that He is His own sweet self.  Not quite like anyone else in all the world.
He does have Little One's nose and easygoing response to the outside world; He does have that brow like Missy (like me) and the beginnings of Her blonde hair.  He had colic like Little One. (Well.  He had colic; no one could have it like Little One did.)  And like Miss (like J), He seems to have an internal clock with Swiss precision.  He KNOWS when it is nap time.  He KNOWS when it's 6:30 and time to be getting some jammies on.  He's very happy to remind me if I lose track of the time.
And He even seemed to know that on the 7th of this month, He turned the big THREE months old, and was therefore, immediately and henceforth, a Baby, and not a Newborn.
Gone are the newborn days of sleeping all the time.
Now He meets the morning ready for action.  Between regular (sadly rather short) naps He is on the go!  He wants to be wiggling and squirming and aaaaalmost rolling over, and batting at dangling toys like Rocky with a speedbag.  Or held right up to the face of an attentive, interesting person having lengthy conversations (goo-ing and raspberry-blowing and tons of laughter) that can last 15 minutes- or more!  Or to be carried around- anywhere, so long as the scenery continues to change- facing OUTward, if you please, to take in all the sights.  But there must be something fun to do during the long stretches between naps.
Because gone are the newborn days of crying only for survival.
Never tell a first-time parent this.  (Because the first time, it's not true; like learning to ride a bike or ski or something).  But a newborn is the easiest stage of parenting that ever will be.  A newborn wants only to be kept alive.  It cries to be fed, changed, allowed to sleep, or because there is pain or an intolerable temperature.  That is it. A newborn is utterly guileless; it will never cry because it knows that tears will make you give up all your values and hand it a lollipop, or because you wouldn't let it jump off the roof.  A newborn is simple; it will never ask you why people kill each other.  It does not need to be taught to read, or ride a bike, or have good table manners.  It just wants to be snuggled and given the barest essentials possible.
But a baby.  A baby cries because it is bored.  It cries because it doesn't want the blue elephant with crinkly feet; it wants to sit on your lap and recite epic baby-poems to an appreciative audience.  Until it doesn't; it wants to be carted around the house or better yet around the block and doesn't care that you have to get dressed for school drop off.  A baby also starts to cry because it has realize that If You Cry, They Will Come.
And so, now that Mister has become a Baby, the mind games have begun.
Luckily for me, this is not my first rodeo.  Also luckily for me, Mister really is as easy as babies get.  While He's easily bored, He's not easily disturbed.  He still wakes to nurse during the night, but goes right back to sleep and the only time He fusses when being put down is if He is fussing to be put down.  He likes cuddles and rocking very much.  But when it comes to sleepy, He wants to be put down in His bed, zipped into a sleep sack, and left alone to fall asleep when He's ready.  Which is just fine with me.
Mister was born with a tongue-tie, which is responsible for the fact that feeding Him has been quite a challenge for us both.  He's getting plenty of nutrition as evidenced by the fact that He's growing well- in fact at the 46th percentile for height He is a giant compared to His sisters (there we go comparing again).  But the process has been mutually uncomfortable and frustrating for us both.  Now that He's a big strong baby, though, and we've had a few months practice, we are starting to work it out.
Now that He's a big baby He has also developed a few new physical traits:
-All the brown fuzzy baby hair has fallen out (except one funny patch at the bottom, in the back), and little wispy blond baby fuzz is beginning to appear.
-His newborn rashes have thankfully abated, though His skin is still sensitive and is prone to eczema and even hives sometimes.  Which I'm sorry to say, but not too surprised.
-He has developed rolls and pudges basically all over, and is so solidly built that sometimes I forget how tiny a baby He really still is.
-He's able to see a decent distance now, and recognizes us when we come near, usually greeting us with a gorgeous grin, a labrador-like wiggle, and coos or giggles.
-He's becoming somewhat coordinated, and can purposefully bat at and hit or grab His toys, or reach out to feel something, like the pages of a book, or your hair, or nose, or earrings.  Ouch.
He has made new discoveries, too:
-For example His HANDS.  In the last couple of weeks, Mister has discovered these amazing, delicious, fascinating toys which are always around for His convenience.  He spends long stretches just staring at them, so seriously, trying to discover their secrets.  He moves them and bounces them and grabs one with the other.  Wow.  Amazing! He gums them and drools on them and sucks on the knuckle, sometimes getting His pointer finger in there and assessing it for comparability with a pacifier.
-He's beginning to suspect there are similar objects at the ends of His legs, too, but so far He is conservatively observing them from afar.  Better make sure they're friendly before inviting them in for lunch.
-Speaking of pacifiers, He has figured those out.  He knows that they are not His finger, and they are NOT for lunch, and He will not accept them in lieu.  He's very particular about them.  When He wants one, He wants it- and nothing else.  Usually this is when He's sleepy. When He doesn't, though, He DOESN'T.  And you would be amazed at the note this guy can hit when He's offended by having one stuck in His face.  Dude gets mad. 
Because He also knows that Babies get to have preferences. He's pretty easygoing, as I've said.  But He will not tolerate the following:
- Having anything put in his mouth when He hasn't asked for it.  Never try to feed Him when He's not hungry.  He will tell you off until you've lost 30% of your hearing in whichever ear He's nearest.  Same goes for the pacifier.
- Being wet or dirty.  This guy demands to change diapers like Lady Gaga changes clothes.  He pees ONCE and calls wardrobe.  Lots of laundry for me.
- The car seat.  Ok, He'll tolerate it if He's in a good mood.  For a little while.  But in general, He hates the thing.  A sad truth for a little guy doomed to accompany Sisters to and from school, piano, ballet, swimming, parties, play dates, errands….you get the picture.
- As I've mentioned, boredom.  Or loneliness.  He wants to be held during meals; He doesn't like being left in a bouncer or on the floor nearby. He seems to know He's being left out.  All He wants is to join the table and look around.
There's plenty Mister does like, too:
- Bath.  He continues to love a good bath.
- Babbling back and forth with a Sister or grown-up.  I know I keep saying it, but it's because He loves it SO much.  Mister is a super social, friendly guy.  We make lots of buddies when we go out.  Three days ago He acquired "B" and is proud to display this in conversation, along with His old standbys of "goo", "AHgoo", "cooooo", and fits of giggles.
-Snuggling.  Oh, how I love how cuddly this baby is.  He loves to be held and snuggled and hugged and kissed.  Good thing because between all the rest of us, He gets quite a lot of that.
- Randomly, we've discovered that He loves to be petted on the head, like a cat.  Especially when He's sleepy, He loves us to gently rub the top of His head.  He practically purrs.
- When He's sleepy in His bed, or something has upset Him, He is so easily soothed.  He loves for me to simply cup His cheek in my hand, lean down, and give Him a kiss on the forehead.  It's like a magic charm.  Calms Him right down.
- Another sure bet is nudity. Always makes Him happy.  Guys, right?  Probably will never change.
- Standing up.  He's strong enough now to hold Himself upright when supported around His middle, and He loves this! He looks so proud of Himself, turning His slightly-drunken looking head side to side and goo-ing seriously, as a king surveying His territory.
- Books and reading, Sisters singing to Him, J in any form, and pat-a-cake.  LOVES to pat-a-cake.  When you roll it, He gets excited.  When you pat it? Peals of laughter.  When you throw it in the oven?!  The look of triumph. It's priceless.
While He may share some things in common with His Sisters, Little Mister is undeniably unique.  Both social and serious, both easygoing and particular, independent and cuddly.  He's a LOT of fun to get to know.  Although I tend towards nostalgic and already miss the newborn Mister, I am so excited to meet the changes that come each day and to see Him grow.  He's a happy, healthy, joy to have in our family.  And- like His sisters- absolutely perfect, exactly as He is.

Valentines Day

On Valentines Day, the girls woke up to pink oatmeal and some little gifts from me and J.  

They went to school for a valentine exchange (whoa. valentine overload!) 

Traditional Holiday Sorting into "allergy safe" and "danger" piles.  

And then hit up both a fun Valentines Day party, and a birthday party.  

Valentine headband crafts

Missy's first Mani

Little One's too!

Little One played a birthday song for the birthday girl.

Little Mister was in on the festivities, too.

That's a lot of sugar!  But the sweetest thing of all, by far, was that evening when J came home from a two week trip.  We were all very glad to have our main valentine back home with us. 

Here's a little Valentine wish from me to my Littles:

No matter how many admirers give you gifts and send you love letters (uh, love texts? whatever the thing will be), no matter how many crushes crush you,  how many romances come together and fall apart in your lives, you will always have love here.  You will always, always, always Be Mine.  Ours. 

You will always have us, loving you, and- even more important- you will always have Each Other, too.

Happy Valentines Day, my Little loves.  

Love Always.

Fast Lane

I find Little Miss quietly crying by herself. 

C: "what's wrong?!"

Miss: "oh! I hab a problem!"

C: "what is it?"

Miss: "I weely, weely NEED a black moto-cycle. But I on'y hab a twy-cycle!!"
Hysterical tears. 

High school is going to be not boring.

Low. Ri. Der. 

Missy Goes To School!

Our first big news in 2014 was that Little Miss, my baby (who will always be my baby no matter how many babies I have) started school.  Her enthusiasm for this endeavor can be illustrated by a line graph of housing market prices since 2006 (when we so cleverly purchased our town home) accompanied by the sound of a Wile E. Coyote film, just after he freezes in mid-air and then looks down.
Beee-oooooooooooooooooo-PSHBLAM!
By the time we had only a week to go, Miss was most definitely, absolutely, obstinately, vehemently opposed to going to school.  She was sit-down, cross-armed, frowny-faced, glowering, foot-stomping NOT GOING TO GO STAYING WITH MOMMY.
Well, in an effort to save Her enthusiasm from the fate of our mortgage, I kept talking it up.  I took Her on a special Mommy-Missy date to pick out Her new lunch box and house shoes.

What's a girl date without (steamed soy milk from) Starbucks?

She was just a little excited.  

Big kid lunch box and slippers

I got Her coveted backpack ready, and let Her pick out Her own outfit- and Her sister's, since She was adamant that they be "matchies" on the first day.

I think these things helped.
But the real credit for the sudden spike on Missy's metaphorical graph goes to Little One.  In Montessori school, the classes are mixed-age from 3-6, so Missy and Little One are in the same class.  Little One talked on and on about how great the teachers are, how nice the kids are, how fun the work is.  On the way to school, She was a salesman making the pitch of Her life, effervescently describing the many wonders of Pre-School and how much Miss was sure to love it.  Missy listened raptly.  Silently.  When we arrived Miss followed Her sister shyly but hopefully, hanging Her jacket, changing Her shoes.  In the chaos of the first-day drop-off foyer, the director stopped to ask me a question.  I was answering, I was waving to parents, smiling at students.  Then I looked for my Littles, who were just there a second ago, and they were missing! After a second of panic, I peeked in the classroom, and there they were.

 Little One had an arm around Miss's shoulders; She was introducing Miss to a gaggle of friends.  Miss was smiling shyly and saying, "Hi.  I'm two."  I watched awhile as Little One toured Her around the classroom, the gaggle trailing along.
Missy looked up and I froze- Oh no! She saw me! Now She'll run to me and cry!
But no.  She grinned.  Ear to ear! Waved conspiratorially.  And went back to Her new friends.
I didn't even get a good-by hug, Peanuts!  Not a kiss! Not a see-ya-soon.
Afterwards She was all giddy and thrilled and full of stories of adventures.  And so, thanks to the cheerfulness and shepherding of a kind, protective older sister, and the brave awesomeness of Little Miss Herself, my baby breezed into Her first day of school and loved it.  My baby!
There were tears on Her first day, after all, but all of them were mine.

New Years

Yep, still catching up.  "come on, guys, one more game? You're not going to bed already?!", and I looked at her with bloodshot eyes and knew that, yes.  It has happened.  My mother is too cool for me.  As much as I wanted, for the honor of the memory of my high-school self, to fight on and party (or at least play board games) until dawn (or at least midnight), I was beaten.  I could not.  Could not do it.  Sorry, Mom.  I can't keep up!
This year we rang in the new year at like ten.  (Because people who get up and nurse every one to two hours don't give a rat's pacifier about fireworks or balls dropping.)  It's only because we tried really hard and rode part of the way on the coat-tails of my mother's never-ending energy that we made it that far.  And then, in a great thunder-clapping moment of cosmic justice, my mom said,
J made some awesome home-made eggnog, so at least we had a good toast.
And the next day, to celebrate 2014, the Littles joined us in a champagne toast!  Cheers!
Ok it was actually sparkling grape juice but They begged to call it champagne because that is so much fancier, and I acquiesced.  Which will surely bite me in my 2014 behind when They go to school all giddy and inform Their  teachers that Mommy liquored them up.  This year I resolve not to be investigated by social services.

I Seem To Have Acquired A Cat. And A Teenager.

On the way home from preschool, Miss tells me about Her day:

Miss: "...and then the teacher was so funny cos she said, 'sit down mistah Holmes!'"

C: "Mr what?"

Little One(rolling eyes): "Holmes. P Holmes."

C: "Oh I see. But it's MISTER Holmes is it? So then you are MISS Little Missy. I suppose I will call you that now."

Miss(indignantly): "I not! I. am. not.  I am a KITTY." 

C: "Oh ok. Miss Kitty, then?"

Miss: "Yes. That is ok."

C: "And you back there? Are you MISS Little one?"

LO: "Noooooooo."

C: "No?! Well who might you be then?"

LO(red and giggly): "Miss-is Holmes!"

Be Optimistic

Our Little One was born with Her arms stretched wide, greeting the world at the top of Her lungs.

I know, now, that She was singing.  

She's rarely stopped since.  A chance whim of mine to let Her watch Mary Martin's Peter Pan  during one of Her fevers, at two, hooked Her deeply and forever on musicals and broadway show tunes.  This genre, never present in our home before Little One, has become a permanent Pandora station, and in a way serves as background music for much of our last few years.  

Some time ago, I accompanied the Little's lunch (soup) with a song I recalled from childhood (concerning monkeys and rabbits that loop the loop), and the giggles it produced compelled me to play the original version for them on YouTube.  

There was Shirley Temple, tapping her toes, bouncing her curls, and singing away to adulation.  Little Miss loved it.  She couldn't get enough.  As for Little One?  She seemed to see in Shirley a soul cut of the same cloth.  They both fell in love.

Who hasn't?  I remember watching those curls bounce and trying to tap along when I was little.  I remember my mother humming along, surely transported to her own childhood dreams of the good ship lollipop.  And one of my dearest memories is of sitting in the guest room with my grandmother, as she reverently brought out the Shirley Temple paper dolls she had played with as a child- and saved all those years, they were that precious.  We played with them for hours; Shirley Temple could close the gap of two generations so simply.  

She's hemmed in another generation in this family now, too, encompassing my children.  We keep a lookout for Shirley in the movie section of the library, and even though there are no animations, no special effects, sometimes not even color, they easily compete with the flashiest modern productions for a place in my Little's interest.  

Most recently, we watched (and re-watched, and again) Little Miss Broadway, and a part of that movie twirled out of the screen and affixed itself to our daily lives like a sequin on one of Miss Shirley's flouncy dresses.  

It began with Little Miss.  You are familiar with Missy?  Of the world-infamous frowny face?  There was one episode in which this face which was particularly stubborn and I could not seem to remove it, no matter what solvent I tried.  Then Little One swept in- Her own curls bouncing- regaling Missy with their favorite song from Little Miss Broadway.  

"Be optimistic!" Little One crooned at Her sister, "Don't you be a grumpy! When the road gets bumpy, just smile!"

Like a magic spell, Missy broke out in laughter.  It has been our lucky charm ever since.  Whenever one of us begins to pout or get cranky, someone pipes up with the little song and, if you can believe it, we just about always end up all smiles, the lot of us.  It's a silly, old fashioned song.  Which is just the point.  You can't hear it or sing it without laughing.  Try it!  

I'm not much for the worship of celebrity.  I mean, I don't know these people, and I find it odd to be transfixed by someone I've never met.  So I can't say that I'm personally affected by the death of Shirley Temple Black, as a person.  But I can say I feel a gratitude for the uncommon manner in which she managed to serve as a positive role model her entire life.  And I do have a tenderness in my heart for the idea of Shirley Temple- the idea of generations of people cherishing innocence and simple fun despite themselves. 

So, to commemorate this legacy and honor the ray of sunshine her childhood curls have reflected into my own family's life, here is our Little tribute.

Two Months

While I've been catching up at the pace of a snail, or a turtle, or a mother with three monkeys climbing her back at all hours, an entire month breezed by, yelled "see ya!" and skipped out the door into a getaway car.  Gone.  And so, unbelievably, this abandonment has left me with a two month old!
Even though He was one month old about 3 hours ago, a lot has happened.
Little Mister is no longer an (adorable) amoeba.  He's turning into a little human!  He looks around at things with interest, he gets in daily workouts on his play mat, he has developed preferences.  And, best of all, he sees us.
You know how newborns never really look at you? They just kind of stare creepily at something right over your shoulder until you start thinking of calling some ghost hunters out to investigate.  But a couple of weeks ago, Little Mister got bored with whatever spot on the wall was so interesting and took a peek at the big face making noises at Him right in front of His nose.
He was like, whoa. That mug could use an espresso and some sephora action right away.  What is that thing?!  But once we got to know each other, He began to look up and smile.  Now we have little chats, where He looks up all smiley and amused, and I talk, and He says "a-goo" and I talk, and He says, "Brrrr" and I talk, and He blows spit bubbles, and then we all giggle about it.  It's pretty awesome.
It is even a little awesomer (sure that can be a word, what the heck) than the other awesome thing which is the NO COLIC.  AHHHHHH!!  That was the angels singing.  Yes, the No Colic is a wonderful thing.  And guys, I think He actually feels really bad about that whole business.  Because He's tried to atone for the errors of His youth by putting Himself on a schedule for me.
In a short month, we have gone from hours of inconsolable screaming every evening, to a mild fussy sound each night at 6:45 which means "I'm tired now".  At which point He is changed, swaddled, kissed, and put into His cradle.  With His sleepy little eyes still open.  And that's it.  Out cold by 7 every night (I will now cross myself and turn in a circle seven times to avoid jinxing this). He wakes once or twice to quietly nurse and go back to sleep until around 6.
He'd be a solid napper, too, if He wasn't always getting hauled around all over the town on the trail of His sisters.  To be a third child is to be constantly dragged to stuff that has nothing to do with you.  Mister protests this injustice by despising His car seat.  He can get good and angry in there.
Otherwise, though, He is a pretty easygoing guy.  He doesn't complain about much, and He puts up with a lot.  His new preferences are mostly on the positive side.

Such As:

Bathtime
Little Mister is partly a marine mammal.  He loves a bath.  Loves.  Sometimes He actually laughs when His feet go in.  He looks around with wonder like He just cannot believe His luck.
Getting out, then, is no bueno.  Because the fun is over, it's cold, and now she's going to stuff me like a sausage into one of those girly sleep sack thingies that get bunched all up.  Who invented those things, they are awful.

Nakedness
Part of the bath love is probably that He gets to be nekkid in there.  Maybe because one of His greatest dislikes is an even slightly soiled or wet diaper, a great way to make Little Mister happy is to strip Him down.  I'm sure He'd like to just be starkers all day, but! He is a boy, and mama says NO.

Working Out
Mister has a couple play mats with those dangly toys that rattle or crinkle or whatever when you biff them.  Mister loves those things.  He works His whole body out trying to get them.  He smacks them (on purpose? by accident?) and keeps at it until He wears Himself out entirely.  Then He gives his mewing little sleepy cry for me to rescue Him and put Him down for a nap.
One of them, though, has these butterfly things at the top, way too high for Him to reach.  They are for looking at, I tell Him, but He is not amused.  He stares at them and wiggles and squirms and flails His arms about.  And then He gets frustrated and gives the Lip (you have to see this Lip face) and starts to scream at them.  They taunt Him.  They are mean, evil butterflies.

Working ME Out
Sometimes, for no reason at all, or maybe air bubbles lodged somewhere in His system (there are tons of those in there.  He may have swallowed an aquarium aerator at some point), Mister gets fussy.  He just does.  And then, what He wants most in the world is to be held to me, very close, while I do lunges or squats.  Down, up.  Down, up.  Until my legs burn and I have to choose between leg pain or ear pain, because He will not let me cheap out and do little bounces or pansy half-squats.  He's a little drill sergeant, I tell you.  When not all fussy cranky pants, He also likes dancing, chilling in the carrier while I do my chores, and rocking chairs.

Cuddles
He likes the carrier and the rocker and all such stuff because it's less boring than sitting still, and also involves being held.  Now at night, He wants to be put in bed and left alone. But otherwise He loves, I mean LOVES to snuggle and be carried.

Sisters
Little Mister already loves time with His sisters.  He likes to sit with us at story time and watch the colorful pages. He likes to listen to Little One read to Him or practice piano, and to have Missy sing to Him.  They go talk to Him and pat His tummy when He's waiting for me and getting impatient, and He rewards them with smiles and giggles and "a-goo" and wiggles.  He likes to sit in my lap watching the chaos that is the Littles, putting on dance shows or parades, or being dinosaurs.  He watches intently thinking either, "that is so fun I can't wait to get to play!" or, "holy pacifier those ladies are crazy.  Thank goodness I'm safe in this cushy lap".  Either way, at least they're interesting, and even when He gets loved a little too much, He can never say He's not loved enough.

In a month Little Mister has made all these changes and we've learned so much about Him.  He's outgrown His first outfits, He's outgrown the sink.  In a way, because He's the third, I've been more prepared for how fast this sweet, precious newborn time flies.  I'm less shocked by it, but still it's amazing how quickly the changes come.  It know that there is greatness ahead and look forward to it, I know that the bliss of this stage is finite and so I cling to it when I can.  With older siblings and busyness going on, the days are extra short, my attention divided into ever skimpier slices.  But because I Know, I stop whenever I can and try to charm a giggle out, put a few miles on the rocking chair, or just breathe Him in and feel the tiny softness on my shoulder.  Oh Little Mister.  You are only two months, but you are treasured beyond measure.  Happy Birthday Little Guy!

Christmas

Speaking of Christmas, Little Mister's first was a success.  We had a nice, quiet day at home, which is how we like it best.  Especially now that I've finally discovered that the key to avoiding totally overwhelmed children is to open stockings and see Santa's gifts, then break for breakfast before unwrapping packages from friends and family.  Let me never forget this.  Last year Little One ended up laying face down under the tree like a drunken sailor before we were even done unwrapping.  Too…Much…Christmas! Totally shorted out.  Bless Her heart.
This year we rationed out the Merry and everyone kept their blessed little heads.  Little One and Missy were thrilled to find that Santa had granted their wishes  for a piggy bank and batman.

Interestingly, the piggy bank has received near constant use and attention since, while Batman spends quite a lot of downtime hangin' with the princess dolls on a shelf.  Not that he minds, I'm sure.  Santa brought Little Mister a bathtub, which turns out to have been perfect given the fact that while we are just getting to know Mister, we can say for sure that He loves a good bath. We spent the day enjoying the new treats, eating cinnamon rolls, and just being together.
I have to say, I think Christmas is a wonderful time to have a baby.  It's a busy time, it's an expensive time, but who cares?! It's a perfect time.  There are decorations and everyone is all jolly and excited.  It seemed like the world was appropriately joyful when Little Mister came home.  And to be able to start his induction into the family with some of our most treasured traditions was a perfect initiation.  It was fun to open all the packages labeled "baby" and have a real, actual, wonderful person to give them to.  It was awesome to hang an extra stocking next to the rest, a visual decree that there was a new and permanent soul in our home.
This year we were spoiled silly by our generous family; reminders in boxes of how many wonderful people we have in our lives and how far they go to give us tokens of happiness.  The Sisters were old enough for the holiday Magic to be as tangible as wrapping paper and as sweet as sugar cookies.  And this year, we had Little Mister.  A new baby, the most magical thing there is; a perfect reminder of another new baby who started this whole shebang long ago.  I have had a lot of really great Christmases in my time, Peanuts.  But this one was the best.  

Little Mister

Of course, the biggest news was the arrival of Mister.  

After His rather dramatic entrance, His sisters and Grandma came to meet Him.  

Counting Toes

Family of FIVE!

Mister then spent the ENTIRE first night like this:

Seriously, I don't know why the nurses didn't come running to see why I was pulling His toenails out.  Maybe they were concerned they'd get hearing damage if they came in.  But eventually, sometime the second day, He finally got a meal in His tummy and settled into being His sweet self.  

Little One brought us this carefully constructed gift; it is a box which, when opened, revealed pop-up signs that said, "I love you Momme (mommy)" and "I love you Babe (baby)" and a taped on string of plastic pearls.  It also included a collage of pictures for Baby made by Missy.








Since this was not my first bundle of joy, the hospital let us go home a bit early, and since it wasn't exactly the Ritz in there, we were happy to.  J and Missy came to pick us up.


J's mom very thoughtfully gave us the outfit we brought Him home in.  It is the very same outfit J wore home from the hospital when he was born!  I love the sweetness of that.  Here they both are-

Mister

Baby J

Missy was very excited to help bring Her brother home.  She had Her baby too, and together we nursed and changed our babies and got them ready to go.



We rode together in the wheelchair (such a funny requirement) while poor J somehow pushed us and carried all the bags at the same time.  Then we clicked car seat number three into place, and Mister headed off into the big world.

We went straight to Little One's school and picked Her up so that we could all go home together as a family.  Waiting for us were the doggies (who were pleased to meet their new person), the sparkly decorations, all kinds of pictures and posters from the Sisters, and flowers from my thoughtful step-dad.

 Home sweet home!

Firsts

Since Little Mister came home, He has had many Firsts.

His first Doctor visit

Best pediatrician in the world. Ever. 

His first bath

This child LOVES a bath

His first outing- sushi of course. 

Welcome to the family, Mister.  Learn to love seaweed. It's our thing. 

And of course, His first Christmas.  In which He was most definitely the very best gift for us all.