Maybe I Should Allow a Little More Sugar

I usually try to limit the girls' sugar intake. It's not necessary and it makes them hyper. They get some, on occasion, but not often.

Today, in honor of Samantha's illness, I gave them popsicles. Ella grabbed the frozen part and tried to eat the stick. Twice. I had to show her how to eat it.

More Grocery Store Mayham

We went to the grocery store again today at our usual late morning time. Sean brought in the two older girls while I Bjorned (yes, I did just make up that verb) Penny and grabbed a shopping cart.

When I got into the store, the girls said, "Mango, Mommy!"

I assumed they had just snagged a mango sample and so proceeded to shop.

I was wrong. They wanted mangoes.

Ella demonstrated this by running away from Sean toward the mangoes. I followed, trying to coral her. A grandfatherly type man stopped to watch, smiling and laughing as my little bean ran toward her goal. When we rounded the display, I noticed there were no samples.

"No, Ella, No!" I yelled, trying to maneuver with the cart and Bjorn.

Too late. Ella snatched a mango off the display and took a big bite, skin and all, then dropped the mango and ran around the display to avoid me. The man laughed and laughed and commented that I had my hands full.

We bought mangoes today. Ella seemed to enjoy her bite, even with the skin. At least she chose a healthy snack.

Birthday Party Fun

Last night we went to a birthday party for one of our friend's four year old daughter at The Little Gym. We had never been to one before. It's a little gymnastics studio with uneven bars, parallel bars, balance beams, a little vault, and big mat space. They hold classes their, but for birthday parties the kids have free play for awhile and then they do a little program with dancing and gymnastics moves geared to little kids. It was great fun, I definitely recommend it.

For me, as a parent, it was a great to see my kids interact with other kids. It still amazes me that they have such different personalities. When Ella came along, I kind of expected an exact duplicate of Samantha. Well, that didn't happen.

Their personalities really came through during the planned program. Sammy's my shy little girl. She would run around in a circle with the other kids (who were mostly her age), but when they stopped to twirl or dance or kick or whatever, she ran to her daddy and waited until the next round of running began (she really likes to run). Ella, my bold one, on the other hand, muscled her way to the front, past kids two to three years older than she is, and tried to do whatever the instructor was doing. When she couldn't do something, she just twirled in a circle. It was really funny. She stayed in the middle of things the whole time.

Ella starts preschool in September, and I know I'm not going to have four months of tears like I did with Samantha. She'll be just fine. The teachers may want to be careful, though.

The Grasshopper

Today we were in the backyard. Samantha had her pink sun umbrella she got at the Cherry Blossom Festival last weekend, and has been carrying around to shield herself from the sun ever since. Suddenly, she screamed and threw her umbrella. A three inch long grasshopper had landed on it, apparently confusing the umbrella for the biggest flower ever.

I have to admit. I do not like grasshoppers. They fall into my arbitrary category of crunchy bugs. I do not like bugs that crunch when you step on them. (It's a childhood trauma from a firefly.) But, being Mommy, I had to take care of the situation. So I bravely shook that umbrella, carefully pointing it away from me. And shook it, and shook it. Those things can hang on tight. (Exactly like that firefly on my finger.) Finally, it flew off, over my head and into my leg. I jumped three feet in the air, threw the umbrella, and screamed like a little girl. (Not my proudest mommy moment. I really don't want three little girls who are scared of bugs.)

The grasshopper landed in front of us. The girls were fascinated by it. I thought it was injured from having an umbrella thrown on it. Eventually, we found a long bubble wand to poke it with. I prodded it's behind to try to get it to fly out of the yard. It flew a few feet. Ella took over the prodding. The darn thing wouldn't leave the yard. It just kept flying a few feet and landing.

That's when Tabby got in on the action. She pounced. The grasshopper flew straight up. Tabby jumped straight up, snaring it in her claws and began nibbling on it. I thought it was a goner, but then it jumped away. Tabby pounced. It jumped. Tabby pounced, playing with it. Ella chased Tabby away. It lay on the ground, I assumed mortally wounded.

The girls and I talked about predators and prey and why Tabby had attacked the grasshopper, and why we were going to let her kill it. Samantha planned how she would deliver the notification to the sisters, brothers, and babies of the grasshopper that she said would soon be arriving.

They egged on Tabby, cajoling her to finish the deed. She wouldn't. The grasshopper, not moving, was not any fun. Finally, Ella poked it again with the bubble wand. And lo! it flew a few feet, apparently unharmed by the cat.

Unfortunately, Missy had been watching us and decided to get in on the action. She pounced on the grasshopper, biting and jumping away repeatedly like it was a rattlesnake. When it tried to fly, she jumped, snatched it out of the air, and tossed it to the ground. At this point, Tabby rejoined the fray, batting the grasshopper. She and Missy tag teamed the grasshopper. When it was lying still, Missy would throw herself on top of it and roll to see if it would move. Watching the two of them cooperate was like watching the velicoraptors in Jurassic Park hunt, fascinating and scary. I now know what happened to my neighbor's bird.

Finally, the grasshopper stopped moving and they tired of playing with it. Ella, again went to prod it. The darn thing was alive! It grabbed onto the bubble wand like a drowning person grabs a life preserver. I quickly took the bubble wand and launched it over our side fence to the front yard, where I knew no one would bother it. As I watched it sail over the fence, I thought, that is one lucky grasshopper. Then I heard a crunch as it hit the side of our house.

What are they thinking? Movie Night

Ella apparently really likes Friday Night Movie Night. Lately, whenever she's asked what time it is or any other question, her response is Friday Night Movie Night. Sometimes it's posed as a hopeful question, like after breakfast, sometimes she's trying to avoid something.

Example:

At nap time (and she knows it's nap time)

Me: Ella, what time is it?

Ella: Fiday Night Moobie Night?

Me: No, it's nap time.

Ella: (in full tantrum, kicking and pounding fists on ground)

No, nap time! Fiday Night Moobie Night! Fiday Night Moobie Night!

Why Hardwood Floors Are a Necessity

Today after lunch I was feeding Penny and Ella stopped in her tracks and announced, "Poop!". She has become interested in potty training, and usually realizes she has to poo right before or during the event, so this was nothing unusual. She usually stops, squats a little, goes in her diaper, then removes the diaper.

Being on top of things today, I told her to not take off the diaper. I would do it after finishing feeding Penny. To add impact, I told her if she took off her diaper, it would get on her dress and smear on her legs. She was impressed, I could tell.

She finished, then said, "(gasp) Poop!"

"I know, I'll change you after I finish with Penny," I said.

Samantha chimed in, "Mommy! Poop!" while she pointed to the floor.

'Did it fall out of her diaper onto the floor?" I asked, unable to see from my vantage point on the couch.

"No," Samantha answered. "She wasn't wearing a diaper."

Funny Ella-isms

Today in the back yard Ella was standing on the ladder to the slide. I playfully swatted her behind as I walked by.

She gasped. "No spank butt!"

"Why not, Ella?" I asked.

"Poop."

Quintessential Ella

Ella was in fine form today. On top of her game. She gave 110% today. Sent in the "A" team.

It started pre-breakfast when I was feeding Penny and heard a funny tinkling sound.

"Girls? What are you doing?"

Silence.

"Girls?"

More silence.

I finish feeding Penny. Sammy is glued to the television, oblivious to her surroundings (mental note, less t.v. time). I walk into the kitchen.

"Ella!"

She jumps a foot off the kitchen chair, hand caught in the cookie jar (actually the sea monkey container). There is water on the table, but the container is 3/4 full still. I grab the container from her, still live sea monkeys. Good. Our new, fancy, shmancy sea monkey castle container(thanks Troy and Vivian!) is intact thanks to the small opening at the top, it is, however, missing the lid. I find that under the dishwasher.

Later, after her doctor's appointment (she has contact allergy rash on her face), I give the girls a snack of raisins. Again, I need to feed Penny and put her down for her nap. (I'm trying to get her used to sleeping in her crib for naps instead of the bouncy seat. ) I hear another sound, this time a funny rustling sound.

"Girls? What are you doing?"

Silence.

"Girls!"

Silence.

Again I emerge. Again, Samantha glued to television (note to self: seriously, less t.v.). Again, in the kitchen.

"Ella!"

She jumps, again. And then rapidly begins shoveling into her mouth the raisins she dumped on the floor from the gigantic box I just bought on Monday.

"Sorry, Mommy," she says, standing up. She walks over to the cupboard, retrieves the dust pan, and begins cleaning her mess up. (She does this stuff so often, she is trained to clean it up.)

Later, we're out in the backyard. She hands me a bird leg. Then I hear,

"Poop! Mommy! POOP!"

"Yes, Ella, I know there's poop over there. I'll get it in a minute. Just leave it alone."

Too late. She comes over with a chunk of poop on her finger. Into the house to wash up we go, Ella holding her finger outstretched like a torch in front of her.

Later, I'm feeding Penny before bed (are you sensing a theme here yet?). I come out, Samantha is glued to the television (my life is a perpetual loop). Ella has brought over her rocking lamb (like a rocking horse, only a lamb), positioned it in front of the television, standing on top of it like a circus performer standing on a horse, and poking the television, that is not yet strapped to the wall as we couldn't find t.v. straps this weekend.

She's asleep now. No more havoc until tomorrow.

Bye Bye Birdie

This morning I let the dog out in the backyard as usual and proceeded to get the girls breakfast and dressed for the day. This took longer than usual, and the dog was outside for a solid hour. Admittedly, I had forgotten about her until I heard her barking in the back yard. This was not her typical, hey-you-forgot-me-again bark, this was a vicious-defending-the-property kind of bark and it caught my attention quickly. (We have had numerous break-ins in the area with people going through the back yard in the middle of the day and I'm pretty sure someone has been in our garage twice in the last month.)

I went to the back and looked out the sliding glass window to see Missy, hackles raised, jumping at the side fence where our neighbors, on a ladder, were intently examining their orange tree. Not too unusual, they keep up their yard nicely and I often see them tending to their plants. I opened the door and yelled at Missy to stop and tried to get her inside. She stopped barking, but decided to keep vigil at the fence.

A short time later, we were getting into the car to take Ella to the doctor to get her face rash looked at (she has a contact allergy from something), and the wife came up to me. She wanted to look around our driveway because her two six year old finches had escaped. They had been in the orange tree, but flew away and were last seen flying over our fence toward the driveway. We looked, no such luck. I told her I'd keep an eye out for them.

After lunch, the girls and I headed out to the backyard to play. I needed to water the plants. I headed up to the top of the yard, Ella following behind, and heard the tell tale "peep peep peep" of a finch. I could tell it was in the large tree just on the other side of our back fence, but with the thick foliage, I couldn't see the bird.

I decide to go next door to see if maybe the bird would come to my neighbor. As I turned, I saw standing in the middle of our top tier, holding something over her head.

"Stick, Mommy," she said.

I looked. Sticks aren't bright orange. I go and grab it out of her hand. It's a finch leg.

"Ella, where did you get that?"

"Wight dere," she said, pointing.

I go to look. There is the rest of the bird, covered in ants, and completely featherless. Plucked like a chicken. Nothing else obviously missing.

As I'm contemplating exactly how that happened, (how could 50 lb Missy pluck a bird and not mangle it in the process, how could even Tabby manage it, very strange), Ella sticks her finger in some cat poop I had failed to pick up.

Into the house to wash hands, then back to pick up bird and poop. Then, heading over to neighbor's with the bad news.

As I'm heading over, I hear the "peep peep peep" again. I look up. Finch #2 is sitting in our tree, too high for me to reach even with a ladder. I ran into the neighbor, coming up her driveway. I tell her about the unfortunate finch #1, we go to look for finch #2, who has flown away by now.

She asked for the body. Being a veterinarian, my instincts to shield people from seeing their pets after horrible accidents kicked in. I told her I threw it in the trash, but I could get it if she wanted. She didn't.

A Little Sisterly Love

One of the most enjoyable parts of being home with my kids is watching them develop their relationship as sisters. As Ella becomes more verbal, they're interactions are becoming more complex.

The fighting started first and it was cute (at first) when they would argue over toys. Now, they have all out screaming, hitting, biting fights and it's not so cute. Then they started to play together. At first, Samantha would include Ella in her pretend games, instructing her what to do. Now, they both join in, although it's still usually Sam's idea. It's not unusual for me to see them both sneaking around the couch, then one will scream, "Bear!", and they run, screaming through the house.

Then, my favorite, the love, began. They hug each other, are concerned when the other one is hurt. Last night, Ella woke up crying. I went into her room, to try to calm her down. Half awake, she cried, "Sammy? Sammy?"

"Sammy's asleep in her bed, right over there, Ella," I said.

She quieted and rolled over, "O.K., night Mommy."

Right back to sleep, comforted by the presence of her big sister.

A Cautionary Tale

I heard a loud crash from the girls' room with Ella screaming "Mommy!" simultaneously. I heard Ella crying, hysterically and Samantha's feet running from her room as fast as possible, her high pitched voice screaming, "Mommy! Mommy! Come quick!"

As soon as I heard the crash and scream, I knew something was terribly wrong. I was in the kitchen, finishing dinner. I took one large step onto the carpeted floor of the living room and laid Penny quickly on the carpet, barely breaking my stride. I met Sammy at the hallway and pushed passed her.

In the bedroom, the six drawer high dresser was tipped over, resting against the toddler bed, drawers open, clothes on the floor, the piggy banks, binders, and barrettes strewn across the bed. On the floor, between the dresser and bed was Ella, screaming and crying for me.

I reached the dresser and hoisted it up. It had shifted so the back feet were setting on the wall.

I pulled it so it rest flat, letting the rest of the drawers fall to the floor. Ella had moved as soon as she was free.

I turned to her, my heart pounding. She stood in the middle of the room, screaming, terrified, blood coming from her mouth. The light in the room was dim. I scooped her up and ran to the living room where Penny still lay on the ground, screaming herself.

I shouted for Sammy to get me a wet washcloth while I tried to calm Ella down enough to see what was bleeding. Looking in Ella's mouth, she had bit her tongue. There was no other bleeding I could see. No cracked teeth. One cheek seemed maybe a little swollen. She calmed down and chewed on the washcloth. The bleeding had stopped. She told me her mouth hurt. No where else hurt, she said.

My heart still pounding, I went to pick up and console Penny and returned to the couch, sitting there for a few minutes with my terrified, but okay, little Ella Bean. Sammy began rapidly recounting the story to me.

Ella had been trying to reach her T-shirts in the third drawer. It's unclear if she just grabbed the drawer, pulling the dresser on top of her or if she was climbing the dresser. Regardless, I realize Ella would have been crushed, possibly killed, if the bed hadn't been there to keep the dresser from falling all the way. If Ella was taller, her head would have been smashed between the dresser and the bed.

I consider myself a relatively cautious mom when it comes to childproofing the house. We have outlet plugs in all the outlets, including those that would require climbing to reach, we have toilet locks on the toilets to prevent drowning, we now have a refrigerator lock, the locks on our doors are too difficult for a child to open on their own and run into the street.

I never really thought I needed to secure the dressers to the wall. I had read it was something to do when childproofing, but my kids don't climb the dressers. Tomorrow, we will be securing the dressers to the wall, and the flat screen television, too.

I'm lucky my child wasn't seriously injured or killed today. Learn from my mistake. If you have small children in your house, secure your large furniture to the wall.

Potty Dance

Resist though I may, Ella has decided it is time to potty train.

It started innocently enough. She would take off her diaper when it was dirty, occasionally wanting to sit on the potty. It became frequent enough and she wanted to sit long enough, that I got down the Sponge Bob potty seat. It fits on our regular seat making the hole smaller so they don't fall in. It progressed to hours a day of her asking to be on the potty, trying to get herself on the potty, and sitting on the potty. I found myself being interrupted far too often. I couldn't feed Penny, finish making dinner, help Sammy find a doll, or use the potty myself, without her calling for me to help her.

I finally decided, if she's that interested, she can train herself. Go for it, kiddo. However, I'm still not ready to devote a lot of time to it. She's still young and, I realize now, I started pushing Sammy too young, hence it took almost a year to train her. But hey, if Ella wants to be self-directed, she can have at it. I just need it to be not so time consuming for me. So, this week I got down the little potty that sits on the bathroom floor and has a container you have to empty. The first day, Ella sat on it for hours. I couldn't keep her off it. And, she managed to only have one accident all day long. Not too bad.

After the first day, the novelty wore off. She still sits on it, usually right after she's dirtied her diaper. She does succeed once or twice a day.

When I potty trained Samantha, I tried a variety of reward/encouragement techniques, finally settling on M&M's, one for pee, two for poo. She just wasn't motivated by anything else. Ella, on the other hand, is not only self-motivated (I think really she's just copying her big sister), but she also enjoys the potty dance.

The potty dance (and song) occur after a successful potty in the toilet and, as importantly, after diaper and pants are back on (that stipulation has really saved me a lot of time). Anyone who is home joins in the dance, which can be any kind of dancing. The song, which is sung to a conga beat, goes, "Potty, potty, pot-ty. Potty, potty, pot-ty. Ella went pot-ty. Pee pee in the pot-ty," ad nauseum, finally ending with a "woo-hoo" and high fives all around. We repeat the whole thing twice. (And yes, those witty lyrics are courtesy of yours truly.) As soon as Ella (ahem) makes a deposit, her eyes light up and she says, "Potty dance?" It's quite an event in our house.

Hopefully, we'll be having a lot more potty dancing around here in the next few weeks, but if not, that's fine. I'm not going to become obsessed with potty training, I have other things to focus on right now. I'm much more go-with-the-flow (bad pun intended) the second time around.

Me First

This morning at the breakfast table, Ella noticed Penny's bouncy seat had turned off. It has a fish mobile on it that plays music and the two fish inside blow bubbles and kiss each other. Penny likes to watch it and I frequently put her in it when I'm trying to take care of the other two.

"More, Mommy," Ella said.

"More what, Ella? More juice?"

"Nope."

"More toast?"

"Nope."

"More what?"

"More fish."

"More fish? You can't have goldfish for breakfast, Ella."

"No, more baby fish."

"Baby fish? What are you talking about?"

Samantha figured out the interpretation first, and quickly jumped off her chair. Ella started to get down, too, but Sammy was faster and closer. She turned on the bouncy seat fish mobile.

"I got it, Mommy," she said proudly, climbing back on her chair before Ella managed to get off hers.

This promptly started screaming from Ella, "NO! ME! ME DO!"

She ran over to the bouncy seat and turned it off, which started Penny, who had indeed wanted to see more fish blowing bubbles, whining and fussing.

Ella put her hands on her hips and squared off to Sammy.

"Me do, Sammy," she said. "Me do."

Ella then turned back on the fish mobile.

"Me do first, Sammy," she said.

"No you didn't. I did it first. You did it second," corrected Samantha.

"No, me first," insisted Ella.

"No, me first," said Samantha.

This continued for five, yes five whole minutes before I thought to distract them with the Sea Monkeys. I was not on top of my game this morning.

Adventures in La Quinta

Last week, the girls and I took a little vacation to my parents house. Once we arrived, we had a fantastic time. The girls behaved themselves and, due to days of extreme excitement leading to extreme exhaustion, all slept through the night in their own beds. We had many adventures in La Quinta, but I believe the girls' two favorites were The Children's Museum of the Desert and the swimming pool.

We went to the children's museum on Friday morning. It really is a fantastic place for kids to explore. Upon entering, there are floor to ceiling windows on two sides of the wall, letting in bright, natural light. There were exhibits all over the place.



The girls were buckled into seats attached to pulleys that we grown-ups pulled to raise them off the ground.









They dressed up as archeologists and excavated some rubber things.

There was a veterinary clinic where the girls examined stuffed animals in lab coats. They had some really good information about choosing a pet and the pet overpopulation problem posted in the area.










There was an attic designed area upstairs full of dress up clothes. (Samantha was in heaven.)

And, there was an art area with an actual VW bug to paint. The girls had a great time smearing paint on it (and yes, the paint does come off clothes). The employee stationed at the car, Carmine (get it, car mine, he'll tell you if you don't) was an Italian grandpa like man. He handed out paint cans and sang "That's Amore" quietly under his breath while going about cleaning and supervising. He has quite a sense of humor, although some of his jokes don't go over so well, he told me. Ella was especially thrilled with the car painting. She kept asking (and continues to ask), "Paint car?", any time an art project or trip is mentioned.

On Saturday, after playing at a local playground and a picnic, we all headed over to the pool in my parent's community.

Grandma and Grandpa took Samantha and Ella in the water, while Penny and I lounged in a cabana. (Note to self, get cabana).

We plan to go back again in the future (although we may have to wait for the grandparents to recover).

*** Extra bonus points to my parents for entertaining the two older girls and feeding them breakfast in the morning so I could sleep until eight! (Yes, eight! I can hardly believe it myself). As well as for helping Ella steer the little motorized Barbie car they have around their courtyard, again, and again, and again (and letting her ram into their legs with it, too).

A Tale of Two Car Trips

"Life is a journey, not a destination."

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mr. Emerson clearly did not travel with three small children. The girls and I headed down to La Quinta to my parent's for a little vacation last week, a good time was had by all (more on that later), once we got there.

I have learned in the almost four years of parenting I have under my belt, to plan my travels around sleep schedules. Things go more smoothly if I have sleeping children at least part of the time. And so, I chose to leave for my parent's home after Samantha finished school at one o'clock. That way, she and Ella would have just finished lunch, and it would be time for both Ella and Penny to take their afternoon naps. Samantha should be fine for the two and half hour car ride, as long as I made sure she used the potty before we left school. So, that's what we did.

We left the parking lot of Samantha's school at one twenty. Penny began crying immediately, because she hates the car unless we're going fifty-five miles an hour. I headed toward the freeway, stopping at the gas station right before the on ramp at one twenty-five. I pulled up to the only open pump, got out, and tried my credit card. There was a glare from the sun on the screen, I heard beeping, but couldn't see anything. I pushed the clear button and swiped my card again. Shading the screen with my hand, I still couldn't see anything on the display. I then realized the beeping was from the adjacent pump and my pump wasn't working.

I was a little annoyed, anxious to get on the freeway with the screaming baby, but I calmed myself down. No problem, I got back in the car and waited for the white van in front of me to finish. And I waited, and waited. Getting more annoyed, I realized the driver was inside the gas station. Then I looked around and noticed every pump was filled with white vans, and all the drivers were in matching grey pants and navy blue shirts. Fantastic, a fleet of some kind was filling up. They were strolling in and out of the gas station, chatting with each other, and overall dilly dallying.

Penny was screaming by this time, so I started the car and headed across the street to another gas station, apologizing to the girls for the wait and trying to hush Penny. I pulled up to the pump, got out, and then noticed this station didn't take credit cards. (Seriously? Who doesn't take credit cards?) Back in the car and back over to wait for the fleet to finish. Finally, after twenty minutes (yes, twenty) I managed to get gas. We got on the freeway at one forty-five.

Penny was in a state, screaming her head off. Soon, I assured her, soon we would hit that magic fifty-five miles per hour. I pulled onto the 105 freeway. Traffic. Going thirty miles an hour. Not fast enough for Penny. I pulled into the car pool lane, we were able to go fifty, still not fast enough. The traffic slowed to a stop as we exited to the 605. Crap, crap, crap. Screaming baby, whining Samantha, at least Ella was asleep. We finally, made it to the 60.

Still traffic, still screaming baby. Samantha started in with the "are we there yet?" every two minutes. When I repeatedly said no, she continued with the "are we almost there yet?"

Still crawling along in traffic, despite being in the carpool lane, Samantha said, "I have to go potty."

You have got to be kidding me. I was not familiar with the area. I looked to the right, we were just coming up to an exit. I was in the carpool lane, no chance to make that one. I exited and pulled over four lanes of traffic, getting off at the next exit. I noticed we just passed a strip mall. Perfect, we'll pull into the strip mall. Ella is still asleep, Penny is still screaming. We'll just pull into the parking lot, I have a portable potty in the car for just such occasions. I can feed Penny, since we've now been on the road an hour and a half, then get right back on the freeway with Ella still sleeping.

Of course, I pulled off one of those exits where the strip mall was not accessible and into a residential area that lasted a few blocks, before entering an area of heavy construction. I saw some shopping center areas up ahead. The first has no parking. I decided to get to one across the street so I could easily get back on the freeway. Bad choice. I got stuck in even worse traffic, I had to make a U-turn to enter the parking lot, and then had to wait through three traffic lights, not moving, just slightly too far to enter the driveway. All the while, Samantha was wiggling in her seat, "I have to go potty! I have to go potty!" Penny was still screaming. Finally, it became clear we weren't going to move the four feet, so I took the SUV a little off road on the sidewalk into the parking lot.

I found a nice secluded spot, situated the portable potty in the passenger seat, and got Samantha in position. Penny was still screaming.

"I don't have to go potty," said Samantha.

No kidding. No potty. I did feed Penny, Ella did wake up, crying. A full thirty minutes after we exited the freeway, we were back on. Still in traffic. Penny screaming, Ella crying, Samantha asking if we were close yet. It was now three o'clock. I estimated we had another two hours of driving. I considered turning around, but didn't. There was traffic the other way too.

After another twenty minutes, the traffic let up and we had an uneventful, yet loud, two hour drive. We arrived at five o'clock, after spending ten minutes with the security guard getting through the gates. (Did he really think I was up to no good? Really? If I were going to do something illicit, did he really think I would bring along three screaming kids? Just give me the freakin' pass already, I'm on the list.) We pulled up to my parent's house, exhausted and ready for bed (Oh, wait, that was just me. The kids were well rested and ready to tear up my parent's house).

The return trip went much more smoothly. I loaded everyone up at bedtime. By the time we hit the freeway, less than twenty minutes later, they were all asleep. I turned on some classic rock, popped open a Diet Coke, and enjoyed the silent drive.

Craft Time: Pine Cone Bird Feeder

Today we did a great project and I thought I'd share. It's not often I find a fun, easy project both older girls can do on their own with minimal assistance and that they both like. It's a very simple project: collect pine cones, have the kids use a spoon to smear peanut butter all over it, have them roll it in bird seed, tie a string to hang it with, then hang it from a tree.

Overall a fun project. I'd give it a 6/10 on the messy scale. There was birdseed on the floor, mostly from 22 month old Ella. It swept up easily, but I wouldn't do it over carpet. The dog did try to lick off Ella's peanut butter as she carried it to the tree.


Samantha after peanut butter and bird seed.




Ella applying bird seed.






Outside, ready to hang.








In the tree.

Secrets

Samantha likes to tell secrets. She understands the idea that a secret is something between some people that other people don't know. She hasn't quite mastered her technique, yet. She either tells you she has a secret and whispers so quietly and without moving her lips that you have no idea what she is saying, or she puts her hand next to her mouth to shield it from view and stage whispers loudly enough for anyone in the house to hear her secret.

We have thick, well loved Disney storybook including all the Disney movies with pictures. It no longer has a cover, the binding is torn, and many pages are torn and missing. Last night, they were fighting over who got to sleep with the book. Ella had it first, so she got it, which led to a half hour of Sammy crying. This morning, as soon as Ella let her guard down, Sammy took the book and flaunted in Ella's face, then sat down to hold it. This led to new fighting, that I promptly ended by confiscating the book and putting it on the desk.

At breakfast, Samantha covered her mouth to block my view of it, and stage whispered to Ella.

"Ella, after breakfast, you tell Mommy you need your diaper changed, and I'll get the book. Okay? Okay? You tell her you need your diaper changed. Okay?"

"Okay," came the reply.

Already, the conspiring begins.

What are they thinking? The Raisin

This is the second installment of "What are they thinking?" where I write about crazy things my kids do that make me shake my head and wonder, What are they thinking?

This morning, Ella and I were doing a little art project while Sammy was in school.

She gasped and said, "Oh, oh, nose boogy!"

I handed her a kleenex and she blew her nose.

"Ouch!" she whined.

"Ouch?" I asked.

She handed me her kleenex with a raisin inside.

*Photo of Ella in her "Little Miss Trouble" shirt. I should have known better than to put her in it.

**Note: The raisin was from her morning snack about five minutes earlier. I left her in front of the television with her raisins to change Penny's diaper.

Momma Had a Baby and It's Head Popped Off

Samantha and Ella were playing in the tub after their baths a couple nights ago. Samantha was playing with Ella's new bath doll, smashing it up against the side of the tub, when suddenly, the doll's head popped off!

Samantha gasped and looked at me, eyes wide, mouth in a large O shape, with a look that said she knew she was going to be in some BIG trouble. Ella looked at the doll, then started crying.

"Dolly, broken. My dolly broken," she said between sobs.

"I'm sorry Mommy, I didn't mean to do it. I'm sorry," Samantha began, trying to explain her way out of the situation.

I took the doll and put it's head back on. Big smiles all around. Ella grabbed the doll and hugged it.

"You fixed it!" Samantha yelled excitedly.

"Yes, I did," I said. "But play more gently with it. I might not always be able to fix things that get broken because you're playing too roughly with them."

Suddenly, Ella popped the head off the doll. She and Sammy both gasped.

"You broke it!" Samantha yelled. "Mommy can't fix it again!"

Ella gasped again, then started crying, again.

"I can fix it again, " I said, taking the doll and popping the head back on, "but this is the last time. If her head comes off again, I'm not fixing it. Got it?"

"Yes," they both said. Then they started making the doll pee on each other's head.

What are they thinking?: Ella's Underwear

Sometimes I catch my kids doing or saying something that just makes me wonder, what are they thinking? So, I thought I might do an occasional short post about them. Hope you enjoy.

Ella has been really fighting her naps lately, and frankly, it makes me angry. So, instead of fighting with her, I just put the baby gate in the door to their room and let her wander around. She eventually gets tired and goes to sleep.

The other day, she was doing that, and then called me, again, for something. I went to her room and opened the door. I looked down at Ella, smiling up at me, with three pairs of her sisters panties on her head.