End of the summer body paint blowout 2013

Last year's end of the summer body painting blowout was so much fun we had to repeat it this year.  (Our neighbors couldn't join us this year, unfortunately, because the older boy had fresh stitches in his chin.)

This year, I revised the recipe and used shaving cream instead of soap.  I wouldn't recommend that.  My kids ended up looking sunburned, jaundice, or cold, even after soaking in the bath for an hour from the residual red, yellow, and blue paint respectively.  But it sure did make for some fun, foamy paint!

Anna does!

My friend Samantha was sitting at the doctor's office with her five kids.  The oldest daughter, Ashley, was wearing a gown labeled Children's Hospital.  Ashley asked Samantha, "Why does it say Children's Hospital on it?"

Samantha explained, "It's so no one tries to steal it."

Ashley asked, "What?  Who's going to steal it?  No one wants to run around in their underwear!"

As Samantha began to nod in agreement, Ashley rethought what she'd just said and she, as well as the three other kids who are old enough to talk, all began to say, "Well, Anna does!  Anna likes to run around in her underwear!"

Yes, folks, Anna is making a name for herself!

A note from Finley

Dear Mom and Kate,

Okay, I get it.  You love me.  But, does that really mean you have to make me a ridiculous bow and attach it to my collar?  

If it does, please know that I will do everything in my power to resolve the situation on my own.

Love,
Finley

Anna and Finley

Sweet animal loving Anna.  I swear she'll be my only vegetarian daughter.  (Kate and Ally both love meat just a bit more than animals.)  I often wonder if she'll end up being a vegetarian veterinarian, which I'd find funny, since she used the two words synonymously for so long.

Anna loved Bailey to pieces, even as Bailey growled at her and bit her.  I remember Anna finally asking me after the last incident, "Doesn't Bailey like me?"  I'm so grateful she now has a dog who loves her back.

This afternoon, the kids were riding their bikes through the "bike wash."  Finley didn't want to stay outside with them, because she was hot, so Anna helped her out.  

Although Finn didn't end up going for the sunglasses idea, she was a lot happier after her run through the sprinkler.

Finley Luna

After we surrendered Bailey, I was adamant we'd never get another puppy.  The experience had been terrible in all aspects.  I was convinced we needed to adopt a rescue, because we'd given up a puppy, and because then we'd know the dog's real personality.  Dave was convinced our family deserved another chance.  What had happened wasn't our fault.  Poor Dave doesn't win many arguments with his stubborn wife, but the man knows how to choose his battles.

Dave and I spent Saturday in the car while the kids were at home with our babysitter.  We drove to a farm in Iowa where an incredible woman named Rhonda spends the first eight weeks of a puppy's life surrounding them with healthy discovery, positive experiences, and teaching them good behavior.  We'd been in contact with Rhonda for several weeks.  Dave and I got to know her and learn what she does, and she got to know us and understand what kind of dog our family needs.  Saturday, Rhonda let us adopt a beautiful 8 week old English golden retriever who she called Miss Light Blue and who we named Finley.

Finley has been home for a day and a half.  She has only tried mouthing twice in that entire time, and she submissively accepted correction both times.  (I remember both Mason and Bailey had scratched us up with puppy teeth marks by now.)  Finley also hasn't had a single accident in the house.  She is playful, but has a remarkable ability to settle down when told.   She's sweet.  Although I wasn't sure I'd be able to, I'm totally falling in love.

I tried to photograph Finley this morning, but the Golden Poo next door kept barking for her attention, and she kept trying to get close to me to check him out from a safe place.  Since the 50mm/1.8 lens I was using has to take shots from a few feet away, I didn’t get many good ones.  There will certainly be more to come.

Here I come!

What's that dog want?

Let's play!

Okay, I'll settle.

I'll pose for one.

When Mommy grows up

I took the kids to Kopp's for lunch on Friday.

As we waited for our order, I lined them up in front of the spoon and cherry statue for a picture on my phone.

After I'd taken the shot, Anna said, "When we grow up and don't need you anymore..."

"No, Anna," I interrupted with mock sniffles, "you'll always need me!"

"Well," Anna clarified, "when we're all in school, I know what you should do.  You should be a photographer!!  You'd be really good at it."

"Yeah!" added Kate, "You should!  You should be a phot..."

All of the sudden, Ally began shouting, "No!  No, No!"

We turned to her, and she said, "No, Mama!  When you grow up, you hab to be a printhess!"

Peace and quiet

Anna was singing a song she'd made up while we were making dinner.  It was a fun song, and the twins and I had joined in.  It was getting really loud, and Kate was at the table growing more and more annoyed.  Finally, I declared we'd take a little break to give Kate some peace and quiet.

After a few minutes of calm, I said, "Okay, Anna, you can sing again, but let's sing a little quieter this time."

Anna burst into song again, quite loudly!

Kate said, with forced patience, "Anna, Mommy said to sing quieter this time."

"Oh, you see," Anna cheerfully explained to Kate, "I was sooooo loud before, that this is quiter!"

A beautiful mess

The theme for my MOPS (Mother’s of Preschoolers) group this year is “A Beautiful Mess.”  I love the concept.  Kids bring messes to our lives, both physical messes and complications to schedules, but it’s part of life with children.  Things with kids won’t be neat and organized, but that’s the beauty of having kids.  

I love the thought... in theory.  But, I have to admit, it’s just not like me to think this way.  I do not like messes.  Clutter frustrates me.  It jumbles my brain.  It makes me anxious.  I walk into a room with toys covering the floor, and I don’t see beauty; I see something that needs to be cleaned.  I see work.

I’m someone who enjoys organization.  Nothing gives me quite the same thrill as figuring out a way to take a messy closet and organize it into neatly labeled canvas bins. For Mother’s Day, I asked Dave to organize the crawl space.  I fantasized about labeled boxes stacked neatly in rows the way some women might a pearl necklace.  

Over the summer, I was at my wit's end.  I spent hours upon hours trying to organize things so that the kids could access their toys and I could remain sane.  I’d get things organized, and Anna, with a couple of three-year-olds in tow, would destroy one room as I straightened the next.  I’d have “a place for everything and everything in its place” and within a minute of leaving the room, there’d be a pile of dinosaurs and blocks in the middle of the room.  The bin labeled “dinosaur” would be filled with toy food and the bin labeled “blocks” would be missing all together.  

I wondered if I needed to be stricter with the kids, but they weren’t really doing anything wrong.  They were just playing, and they were getting along well and having fun.  The problem wasn’t really with what they were doing, but with how I was handling it.  640.  But, I couldn’t seem to change my thought pattern, and I was frustrated most of the time.

Then one day after the kids went to bed, I was sweeping the hallway.  With frustration, I grabbed some toys out of my path and tossed them into the playroom.  I swept a pile into my dustpan, and I sadly noted that there were no longer mounds of dog hair in the dustpan since our dog had passed away.  I thought of how part of life felt empty without little hair balls blowing down the hall like tumble weeds.  Just as it seemed empty without an 80 pound beast pushing into the middle of the mudroom while I tried to get everyone’s shoes on.   And I realized that some of what I miss most about our dog were the things I thought I’d never miss, the things that drove me crazy.  

I thought of this as I swept farther down the hall.  And, when I came to more toys, I picked them up and paused, holding them for a moment.  I thought of how the older me would feel if she could see the house now.  The future me might then live in a perfectly organized house now that her kids don’t constantly reek havoc on it, but I bet she’d gladly trade it for a house full of life, laughter... and mess.  Just as I now have a clean yard without dog poop, but it’s just no substitute for the dog who used to mess up the yard.  And I knew then that I’d one day miss the messes my kids make.

It’s still a big stretch for me to see messes as beautiful, but my children are beautiful and my life is beautiful, so if my kids and this life come as a package deal with messes, I will take the mess.

Painting

Canvas was on sale at Michael's! 

He concentrates like his mom.

Can I borrow the car?

Anna, continuing a very sweet conversation we’d started earlier about how she always wants to live here in our house, said, "When I grow up, I want to live here and I want to take your car."

Pretending to be appalled by her audacity, I exclaimed, "What!?  You want to take my car, too?"

"Yep," she explained, "because we’re going to have a lot of kids and in order to have room for me, Kate, Lukey, and Ally, we’re going to need to take your car."

"Ahhh," I said, thinking it over, "Wellll... okay."

Then Anna clarified, "We’ll only take it when you’re dead."

Bookworm Gardens