Success!

The "big-girl purple blankie" or "new purple blankie" is now just "PURPLE BLANKIE"!

A first time for everything

We've had a lot of firsts at our house in the last few years. One that I never thought would happen...well, it actually happened. I made a double batch of chocolate chip cookies and didn't eat even one morsel of dough. Not a bite. This is amazing.

Me cavewoman.

A long story just got shorter because Anna needs to snuggle.  How many Mother's Days will I have that she asks that...

Samuel decided to throw away his pacifiers this morning.  He threw them all in the trash can and I said passionately all day that I would not dig them out, would not buy new ones, would not give him another pacifier.

Nap didn't happen.  Cried for almost an hour and a half.  I thought that for sure bed time would be easy--he'd be SO tired.

Bed time.  Fast forward two hours.  Sam's still up, bouncing in his spring-footed bed, having a grand time with his books and his imagination.  

Sometime during the day I was informed that said pacifiers never actually made it to the big trash can in the garage.  They were ready to be cleaned and distributed.  

Call me Betty.  Call me Wilma.  I'm a cavewoman.  I totally caved.

And he's sleeping so well now...

Expectations

The trouble watching "Jon & Kate plus 8" is that there are expectations that somehow seep into the viewer's mind.  Every good mom cleans the floor (on her hands and knees) after each meal.  Every child gets teeth brushed twice daily.  Every day.  Baths happen quickly and efficiently.  These aren't bad things, but realistically, they don't happen in our home.

More expectations come when I let the girls watch it with me.  Anna and McKenna think it's fascinating.  About a month ago they saw the episode that included Mother's Day.  Kate got breakfast in bed.  Our girls have mentioned it a couple of times in the past few weeks but I haven't said much in response.  Anna got very excited today about Mother's Day because that's the day she gets to cook breakfast for me to eat when I'm still in my bed.  She's all giddy and covering her mouth to keep from telling me anything else about the coming celebration.  McKenna bops along with her usual enthusiasm, telling me that she's going to make chicken for me.  Anna shushes her so as not to ruin the surprise.

I just spoke with Chris.  He had no idea this was in the works.  Since it's mother's day am I allowed to make a request for one small change?  Could we save the chicken for lunch or dinner?  

Theory tested

For the record, time does not heal all wounds.  At least not in a week.  

My stomach still hurts from all the laughter last weekend that began when our train departed Hobbs station in Noblesville.  Noblesville's train station is not a bustling place.  It is not crowded.  It's quaint, even.  This did not stop mom and dad and the kids and I from boarding the WRONG TRAIN.  We were trying to ride the (obviously red, very classic looking) caboose South about a mile into Noblesville.  Once we started moving, mom and dad and I all made eye contact as we simultaneously thought, "we're headed north".  Moments later we hear a woman on the train tell some of the other passengers that we were headed to Atlanta.  Atlanta?  Yes, we went a good thirty minutes north to tiny Atlanta, Indiana.  It's quainter than quaint should be and we were unprepaired for a trip longer than 20 minutes round trip.  It was nap time when we started.  We had  no pacifier, no snacks, nothing.  The kids were great, though, so really there aren't any complaints, just a lot of laughing.  We had about an hour to kill in Atlanta so we hit up the "ice cream shop".  It was really a "professional" photographer (you should have seen the studi0--it looks a little like my scrapbook from second grade.  I made my second grade scrap book by myself immediately after second grade) selling Schwann's ice cream on the sidewalk.  No matter...it was a beautiful day and we were already getting sore from laughing at our mistake.  How in the world could we have boarded the wrong train?  

I had hoped to visit my sisters in South Bend and take the kids to Chicago on the train.  I may have to reconsider.  Who knows where we'd end up! 

I've come so far

It was August 2000.  I'll never forget the sound when the light flashed.  What is that orange thing?  I was driving in front of Wal-Mart on Tunnel Road in Asheville having just left Applebee's.  

"Chris!  What do I do?!  We need to get to a mechanic!"

"Leslie, that's the gas light.  You need to go to the gas station."

I'd driven for seven years without having any idea what the gas light was.  I lived by the "half tank is an empty tank" rule until I got married.

Fast forward to Wednesday of this week.  I'm taking the babysitter home when I hear a familiar ding.  That's not the gas light, that's the transmission light.  Panic.  We just rebuilt the transmission (we is used quite loosely) two years ago...not again...

We make an appointment for this morning at AAMCO.  I head down, all three kids with me, to sit for an hour while I wait for the bad news.  (Samuel has a meltdown because as he says, "That man take your van, Mommy!"  Simultaneously, the girls found the water cooler.  This just says disaster all around.)  The man finally comes in and says our transmission is fine.  Relief.  THEN he tells me that there's no such thing as a transmission light.  That was my check engine light. Oh dear...panic again.  

They ran the diagnostic and he was pleased to tell me it was caused by my not screwing the gas cap on tight enough.  I'll bet he was pleased.  I'm guessing they'll be talking about me for a while, the lady with the transmission light (laugh) whose kids were adorable but not pleased with the waiting room for an hour (snicker) and who just didn't screw on the gas cap (hearty belly laugh).

Just think

It occurred to me today that Samuel is older now than Anna was when Samuel was born. Looking back, it's nothing short of a miracle that we've survived the last few years. I can't imagine Samuel being the oldest of three at his current age. Perhaps that's why he was last.