Of My Sous Chefs

It has always been true that the time during which I prepare dinner is Emmett's roughest time of the day.  Not only is he a snuggler, but he likes to be in on the action and when I am in the kitchen is the one time, guaranteed, that he wants to be held - a task which isn't so feasible when I am working over a hot stove or need both hands - which is every night.  So most evenings, unless I don't need Daddy's help (which frees him to distract our little man), we endure Emmett's fussing until he is in his chair with food in front of him.

It wasn't until recently that I realized, it's not just being close to us that he desires - he just wants to see what's going on.  Thus, I have begun inviting him to stand on the stool which has hitherto been reserved for Sissy - since the age when she first began to desire the same thing.  This being up just high enough to witness the goings-on up above has made these times in the kitchen much more bearable for everyone.

Of course, now we have to pull in a second stool so Sissy isn't left out.  But now they can both happily cook alongside Momma.

Please note in these pictures, Emmett is not actually cooking on a hot stove, but, rather, he is playing with the dirty dishes left over from this morning's breakfast.  I don't know if that makes it better, but at least it's safer than it appears.

Of Swashbuckling

So many times as parents of little ones we ask ourselves the question, "Where did they learn that?!"

Today, I had that question answered for at least one adorable activity.

As Emmett sat in Daddy's lap watching him play the latest release in the Legend of Zelda saga (a favorite activity of the kids, actually), I heard him repeating after Link, as Daddy swished his Wii Remote back and forth, "H-ya!"

Suddenly I realized, so this is why he came running into the kitchen today, wielding a cardboard tube, stance wide, yelling "H-ya!" as he brandished his weapon through the air.  Watching the video game character on the screen I saw the spitting image of this morning's scene played out by my little boy.

At least that's one mystery solved.

Here he is, our little sponge, watching his icon.  Later, he dashed around with his sword, beating up the closest object, which happened to be a ball.

Of Piano Time

Earlier this week, while watching a movie, I posed a question to Philip about what it must have been like in the days before television or radio, when families had to find other pursuits to occupy their evening hours.  Visions of activities such as story-telling, or family sessions around the piano, or, in the Jane Austen era at least, the playing of cards in the Drawing Room, filled my head.  

This evening, after dinner, while the children enjoyed a rousing tickle session with Daddy, I settled onto the floor (quite a commitment for a pregnant woman of my girth) to entertain myself on the Learn-to-Play Piano the children received from their aunt and uncle for Christmas.  Myself never having learned to play (though dabbling here and there), I opened the accompanying book to "Old MacDonald" (a favorite of Emmett's) and began to play.  Intrigued, the children gathered round and Micaiah begged her turn.  

As she sat on my lap, I showed her how the letters on the music page corresponded to the letters on the piano and demonstrated playing a note.  From there, she successfully hit each key to which I pointed.  It was clearly hunt-and-peck and did not yet resemble a tune, but for a three-year-old's first stab at playing music, we were impressed.  And she was thrilled, of course.

And suddenly, minus the fact we were huddled around a miniature instrument painted red, green, yellow and black, it felt as though we were taken back in time, enjoying family time around the piano.  

I'm sure it's just how Jane Austen knew it.

Of Weather

Before showing you this picture of the day, I would just like to note it was 61 degrees outside this afternoon - or so told me my Weather Widget when I settled down to my computer after lunch.  And from my before-lunch jaunts outside, I would have no reason to doubt it.

This is what my weather widget says now:

I'm not sure how closely you're looking (or if it's just too trippy to you to have that "blog within a blog" effect so you're not focusing on the right thing), but that says 34 degrees.  And right next to that, there's a cloud.  And what's falling from the cloud?  That's right, snowflakes.

And from my brief jaunt out to the mailbox after putting the kids to bed, I can, indeed, attest to the fact that there was some not-so-liquid precipitation stinging my face.

Seriously. Oklahoma?  It was 61!

Sigh.

As a result, tonight's before-bed snack is brought to you by Malt-O-Meal, my snuggly cold-weather alternative to your typical bowl of cereal (also something specifically advised against by the midwives two weeks ago thanks to raised glucose levels - I won't tell if you don't).

(Also please note, in the 15 minutes between when I took this picture and when I posted it, the temperature reported on my widget dropped to 32.  This is lame.)

Further Update:  After my initial post, I peeked outside to see if I could actually see snowflakes swirling in the air (though I knew it would only be in the air as the ground wasn't cold enough to sustain accumulation, right?).  This is what I found:

I would be lying if I didn't admit it actually makes my heart a little happy inside.

Of the Year of Babies

This year would appear to be the year that I birth not just this physical baby but a couple others in my life as well.  As far as gestation periods go, this one which is nearly complete in my womb has been by far the shortest.

This Sunday will mark the Grand Opening of our church library - a baby which has been a couple of years in the making.  I will be ever excited to celebrate it's Birth Day and present it to the world (or our church, whatever).  I'm praying many will accept it into their lives and cherish it as much as I do.

And just today I made my New Year's Resolution (10 days late, but who's counting?) to finally give birth to my longest awaited baby yet - the book I have been writing about my semester in Russia - which will be about three-quarters memoir and one-quarter fiction (for the gaps my memory does not quite fill).  I do not necessarily have high plans to publish for the masses (though I'm writing for it, in case God opens that door), but I know it will be nice to have my entire experience in one place, for myself, for my husband and for my children.

I determined today that as I will turn 28 on the 28th of June this year, I will, by then, my Golden Birthday, have a published copy of my book in my hands (and by "published" I mean printed in hard cover format by my friends over at Blurb - a company I LOVE).  And that baby - five years in the making - will be a grand arrival. To have finally finished I goal which has been gnawing at the back of my brain for such a period of time will be quite the accomplishment indeed.

Here is what I need from you, my friends.  As I labor long in this process, ask me about it.  As many did with the Library, a constant nudge, letting me know my goal has not been forgotten and is anticipated by others serves as a nice kick in the tail.  It is my hope that our shared birthdays will also motivate me where my self-discipline alone has not.

Here is to the year of babies!


Photo of the Day:  Micaiah set up "cakes" for us this morning while she played, complete with candles to sing "Happy Birthday" - I did not until the moment of writing this caption realize just how well this would fit today's topic.  My favorite part, by the way, is how our OCD daughter matched the "candles" to their cakes.

Of Cravings

Here I have gone 36 weeks into the pregnancy, thinking all was dandy and I hadn't even endured so much as a single craving.  But as I poured myself a bowl of Life cereal as a snack this afternoon I realized I was grossly mistaken.  A mid-afternoon bowl of cereal (or a late-night one, such as the Cocoa Cools I just finished ingesting) was never really on the menu before this baby came around.  And while I know cereal isn't the best for me (especially not the Cocoa Cools, but those are an exception to my typical snacking fare), I'm glad it's not worse (like the sour gummies I had to have with Emmett). 

I'm guessing the fact that we always have this particular "craving" on-hand is what kept me from recognizing it as such - it's not like I had to send my lovely husband to the store at midnight for that box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch I had to have.  And, yet, the regular introduction of multiple bowls a day into my diet would be a clear indicator - I have been suffering cereal cravings.

There you have it - I'm a typical pregnant woman.  (At least I wasn't putting pickles in my cereal bowls, right?)

And as a complete side note entirely unrelated to any of the above, here are my photos capturing the highlight of the day - the installation of the kids' "Measuring Pictures" (as Micaiah calls them) which I ordered last month from Paper Coterie on an amazing sale.  Aren't they adorable?  And the kids just had to ham it up for us as they showed them off.  For some reason Emmett always leans forward when he says (or yells, as you can see), "Dees!"  And I have no idea where Micaiah got that pose in the second picture.  No idea.

Of 36 Weeks

I am 36 weeks pregnant.  It seems like such a milestone and I hardly know why.  In one week this baby will be considered "full term" and, while we still have four more weeks to go until the official "ready, set, go" point, it's really beginning to feel we're here.

I was asked on more than one occasion today if I was ready to be "done."  It's a logical question, really, because so many women at this point are.  While I've never been extremely eager to transition into the newborn phase with any of our little ones, this one seems to be the least so.  No, I'm not ready to be done.

Of course, if I no longer had a growing one inside my body there are certain things that would be easier - I could bend over, for one.  I could carry my older ones with greater ease.  I could clean house without getting winded and I could chase my three-year-old around just because she wants me to.  But at the point this happens I will also be waking multiple times a night to feed a tiny one.  I will be too weary to do all the things my unwieldy belly currently renders me unable to do.  I will be having one more tiny body to dress before we head out the door and one more schedule to coordinate.

Don't get me wrong - I love this little one with all of me, I know I will even more so when we look into each other's eyes for the first time.

But for now, I am very much cherishing our final moments as a family of four before I can no longer remember what it was like.

Also, the baby's room has no crib in it (we own it, it's just not where it should be) - so, see, we're just not ready.

We took a 36-Week Photo Shoot this morning before church.  

And the kids were jealous.  So, it turned into a Mommy and Me Photo Shoot.

They enjoyed kissing the baby.

And Emmett did not want to stop.  He's our snuggle bug, that's for sure!

Love him to pieces!