Our summer so far

Well, four weeks into summer vacation and we're all still alive. Considering my state of mind at the beginning of it, I'd say that's a victory.

The kids have played a lot, gone to the pool several times, and included at least 20 minutes of whining into each day. The twins didn't seem to know what to do with their siblings home at first, which meant I spent a fair amount of time chasing them down and getting them out of trouble, but they seem to have adjusted.

H played on an all-star baseball team and had a great time. Their team lost both games so they were out of the tournament, but he got two weeks of two-hour-a-day practices with a really great coach, so we're pretty pleased with how things turned out. H wasn't sure he wanted to play baseball at all this year so it's pretty cool that he did well enough to make the all-star team.

S has been taking piano lessons from a neighbor and she's having a lot of fun.

T has spent hours upon hours riding his bike, playing with friends, and even reading with me every day.

We had a great 4th of July and enjoyed a fantastic fireworks show (thank you to our home state for allowing the sale of some aerial fireworks again. Wahoo!)

(And sorry about there not being pictures of A2 from the 4th. Someone refused to even look at the camera.)

A confession, toddler speak, and lots of pictures

First, a confession. I can't seem to get motivated to write blog posts lately. So many times during any given week, I'll think, "I should blog about that"—like, say, Easter, T's kindergarten graduation, soccer, baseball, and so much more. But then I get sidetracked and forget about it. Oops.

Next... I love toddlerisms—when little kids mispronounce words, leave out words, and generally mix stuff up. One of my all-time favorites was when S would say, "toomarno"—for tomorrow, obviously.

A2 and N have a few gems of their own. Recently, N has become obsessed with birthdays, most likely because just about everyone in my husband's family has a birthday in May. So, at least a few times a day, N will ask, "When my burpay?" I don't think she really understands what birthdays are, what hers will mean, or even the fact that she'll share her birthday with that kid who is always around, but I just love the way she says it.

For every word he says, A2 puts his own little deep voice spin on it, which I love. He also calls every kind of superhero "Man man." He's starting to distinguish a few of them by "Spi-man" and "Bat-man," but I still love the original A2-ism.

Of course, whenever I hear the twins mispronounce something, I try to help them say it correctly. And I frequently tell my older kids, "You know how to say that word. Saying it the way she says it doesn't help her learn." I am the daughter of a former speech pathologist, after all.

One of the funniest ones is how N pronounces kitty. She says it with a t at the front. This is, for obvious reasons, amusing to my husband and me. She loves these Hello Kitty utensils that S got a million years ago—so much so, that she refuses to eat with anything else. She really loves the fork for some reason, but I haven't been able to find it lately. She'll beg for the kitty fork at every meal, and she just has to make do with the spoon. So sad to eat yogurt with a spoon instead of a fork.

This afternoon, I happened to be cleaning the floor in the pantry, so pulling crap out. As I was putting the bread maker back in, I heard a clinking sound. Lo and behold, the kitty fork was in there. N will be so pleased.

And now, a ton of pictures to make me feel better about not blogging so much over the past while.

Nap time

Nap time is very important to me. Vital, actually. So when N started crying in her crib this afternoon after a mere 45 minutes, I put off going to get her right away. Because as cute as she is, it becomes difficult to get things done when there's a little girl sitting next to you, asking you questions ad nauseum.

"Mom, what you doing?"
"Mom, when my birthday?"
"Mom, you hear me?"

(The last question she asks all the time. And she doesn't necessarily want to say anything at all. She'll just keep asking you if you hear her over and over and over again.)

Don't you wear your ballerina tutu on your head as hair ?
And to top it off, she insisted I put a clip on top of her "hair".

Happy birthday, T!

Dear T,

Six years ago, early, early in the morning, you were born. I thought you were coming about every day for a week before that, and I was starting to get impatient to meet you. But you wanted to come on your own time. And that's pretty much the way you do things. I can try and talk you into doing something, but it's always better if you decide to do it yourself. That can be frustrating when it's coupled with your strong stubborn streak, but I usually just need to wait for you to come around. And you always do.

I've loved watching you discover learning even more this year at kindergarten. I was worried that you might not like school, and it's been so great to watch you grow, learn, and just have fun. You're such a bright, imaginative kid and I love you so much. Happy birthday, sweet boy!

Love,

Mom

Poor A2 gets wrongly blamed

As stated in my previous post, the twins have become a bit... hard to manage of late. A2 especially likes to find small things to play with that aren't necessarily his. Last Sunday as we were heading out the door for church, my husband announced that he couldn't find his wedding ring. He had left it on top of his office desk (not a great place to leave it, I reminded him) and A2 had spent a few minutes that morning sitting at Daddy's desk and looking through his drawer. Daddy wasn't too pleased about that. We both looked a ton that night—both in his office and up in our bedroom. I even took out a flashlight in case the ring had fallen behind his desk. Nothing.

The next morning, my husband came down to go to work with his ring on. It had been on our dresser, right where he usually leaves it. We had both looked there several times, but had somehow missed it. My husband apologized to A2 for wrongly accusing him.

Last week, I bought a new wallet. As I was transferring stuff from the old to the new, I realized I was missing a $100 bill. Now, I never have that kind of cash, but it was a bonus gift from work. I panicked, looked a thousand more times in my wallet, and couldn't find it. Then I remembered that earlier in the day, A2 was seen playing with a few coins. I concluded that he must have gotten into my purse. I looked and looked and couldn't find the $100.

Today, a room mom from T's class called about the money I had sent in for the class gift for his teacher. She thanked me for being so generous but wanted to make sure that I had meant to give $102 for the gift.

Poor A2—blamed for things he never did.

One step behind

I'm a person who likes to feel in control. I have schedules and plans and I like my children to have schedules and rules. Sure, little kids can get into trouble and mischief, but I've never had problems with crazy toddlers causing destruction at every turn.

That has changed with the the twin masterminds.

Over the past few weeks, I have begun to feel like the twins are running this house—not the parents. They've started to work really well together at being naughty. A2 is taller, so he'll open doors that N can't. And N will get fantastic ideas to go do something, like say, climb up on the bathroom counter and "brush" their teeth, maybe with their toothbrushes and maybe with other people's toothbrushes. And maybe using hot water and splashing it all over the bathroom.

Last week, they learned how to climb over the gate on the basement steps. Yes, it's amazing that it lasted this long, but I was really, really sad about it. When they were in the basement, I knew they were safe and the house was safe. Now, that's gone.

So, I lock all the bedrooms and I've turned on the door alarm so I know if they try to leave the house. And I keep finding new places to hide my huge diaper bag and purse so that they won't find gum and lipstick and any other treasures in there.

On Saturday, while I suffered all day with strange stomach pains that kept me curled up in a ball on my bed, the twins did some exploring. Since all the bedroom doors were locked, they had some fun in their dad's office and also learned how to open the fridge. They took out ham, yogurt, and even cracked some eggs on the brand-new rug in our piano room.

I told my husband that I feel like I'm always one step behind these people.

Don't they look so innocent?