Musical Beds: Round II

I posted awhile back about how sometimes during the night we all end up in different beds at some point. Last night was such a night. (Warning: Proceed with caution. I guarantee your head will be spinning if you read any further. You may as well just skip the post and scroll down to see the picture....)

Tate: Good ol' Tate. Plop him in his crib around 7ish, don't hear a peep til after 7 the next morning. And if I'm still too zonked to get him, he doesn't mind talking to himself for another hour or so.

Drue: Started in her bed, moved to our bed, and that's where she stayed.

Reese: Started in her bed, moved to Drue's bed with her, moved back to her bed when we moved Drue to our bed, back to Drue's bed with me, then ended up in our bed.

Me: Started in our bed with Drue. Moved to Drue's bed because I felt sorry for Reese in their room all alone, moved to Reese's bed after Reese fell asleep with me in Drue's bed and there was no room because it is a twin bed.

David: Started in our bed, stayed in our bed. Like father, like son.

Anyway, it was all worth it for this shot David took this morning of the sleepy sisters....

 

To Cry, or Not To Cry

Ugh. The crying. The neverending, relentless, just when one child stops, anothers starts kind of crying. Double Ugh. Just one of those things that grates on my nerves until I'd rather choose to eat a whole onion than to listen to one more outburst.

And, yes, my little loved ones are already able to turn off and on their waterworks display at will. I am desperately trying to teach them alternative coping skills to deal with life's little frustrations. At the same time, trying not to squelch their sensitive personalities. Ironically, their mother is a crier. I cry when people hurt my feelings, when I've done something stupid, or when I'm watching a sweet commercial about a little girl giving her piano teacher a greeting card.

But come on people. How much pain is really caused as a result of being hit with a cotton ball? I find myself constantly saying things like, "Don't cry sweetheart", "Now, is that something we need to cry about?", "QUIET!!!!!".

And my kids can take a hit pretty well. (Wait, that didn't come out right...not a hit from me, but from their siblings, falling off the playhouse steps, things of that nature). I began to get concerned that by me telling them not to cry all the time, they would bottle everything up inside, which would really be unhealthy for them.

So, I started reinforcing that it's ok to cry if they get hurt, or if they're sad about something. A couple of weeks ago, Reese fell hard on our back deck. Landed right smack dab on her little knees. I braced myself for a howl, but she just hopped up and hobbled on into the house. Fearing that I had ruined her psyche for life, I reminded her, "Sweetheart, that looked like it really hurt. It's ok to cry if you get hurt."

To which she assured me, "It's ok Mommy. My eyelids decide when to cry."

Memorial Day

"A hero is someone who has given his or her life for something bigger than oneself." - Joseph Campbell

I am so thankful for the freedom my family and I are able to enjoy because of those who've fought, and are fighting, to defend our country.

We took the kids to the Liberty Memorial/Museum, a tribute to WWI veterans, in Kansas City this morning. It started out as a beautiful day and ended up beginning to rain, just as David put the burgers on the grill this afternoon. The kids and I were already in our swimsuits after running through the sprinkler, so we all just headed back outside and played in the rain for a bit.

A few rare shots of sisterly love...

 

 

Here they are teamed up together as Super Girls. The straw in Reese's mouth is supposed to be her "cigar". Wonder where she got that idea? (Ahem...David)

 

And, yes, the boy was with us today also. Tate got his first taste of corn on the cob tonight. As with most of his food, he took a few bites, then tossed it onto the floor below. Little things amuse 1 year olds. (Not so much their mothers.)

 

Mystery Revealed

And the winner for best participation goes to......Margo! She posted THREE guesses on David's big purchase. Thanks for playing along!

So here's what all the excitement's been about in our household the past week. Our TV died. At first we thought Tate had done something to it....again. The brightly lit buttons lure him in to pressing them many times a day and it takes us forever to figure out what, exactly, he did, and how, exactly, to fix it.

However, this time, it wasn't the poor lad's fault. (Looking back I feel a little guilty about sending him to bed with no supper. We'll chalk it up to character building.) It was just the TVs time to go. David proclaimed that very night we were going to look for a replacement. I'm thinking--head to W*l-Mart, get a comparable contraption, head home. David was thinking--head to the colossal furniture mart 20 miles away and spring for, oh yes, the BIG one!

In fact, he used part of his lunch break at work to bee bop around pricing the darn things. So off we went on our TV buying adventure....with kids in tow. Which, in and of itself, was enough to make me want to put my head right through one of those TVs!

I do not like bartering, or bargaining, or whatever it is people do to get a better deal. This is America. The price on the sticker should be a fair one for us to pay. Plus I'm just too shy to do it. David pulled a slick one, on accident, however, and we ended up getting it for a good deal.

So there you have it. David is now the proud owner of a Big Screen TV. Correction: A 50 inch plasma Hi Def TV. We got in the car and he said, "Well, I've got my big screen TV, my leather recliner...oh, and a wife (which he only added after he caught me glaring at him) and 3 beautiful children. I can die a happy man."

To which I retorted, "Don't you dare leave me all alone with this TV I don't know how to work...."

Sweetness

We don't usually let the girls sleep in our bed. Occasionally we have little spend the night parties in there, but the rule of thumb normally is....Go to sleep in your own bed, if you wake up in the middle of the night or early in the morning, come on in and snuggle. I wouldn't trade those moments for anything in the world.

Yesterday morning Reese crawled in our bed and snuggled for a bit then leaned over and whispered. "Mommy, I'm going downstairs by myself so you can sleep longer."

I heard a mild ruckus but nothing alarming and after a few minutes she quietly crept back into our room with a breakfast she had made for me all by herself! It consisted of dry cheerios in a bowl, peach Diego yogurt, and a bottle of water complete with a straw. All this was teetering ever so slightly on a cookie sheet she found for the tray.

She was so excited about her special treat for me. She even stayed to help me eat it! I wish I could have frozen that moment in time.....

Can you guess?

David is now the proud owner of something that will enable him to, and I quote, "die a happy man"...

A Boy & His Cake

"Hmmmm....a creation made entirely of chocolate with a flame of fire on top. Is this a trick? Those are usually no no's!"

 

"Mommy....do you see what I'm doing? You haven't started freaking out yet."

 

"It must be ok. She is laughing and taking pictures of me."

 

"This is my kinda meal!"