Wish us luck

Amy went to bed tonight without her pacifier.

Perhaps you didn't hear me correctly. Amy went to bed tonight without her pacifier.

If you are at all acquainted with my three-year-old daughter, you know that she has never, ever, EVER been without her "mimi" for more than 5 minutes. She had one in her mouth within minutes of her birth and has been going strong ever since. When she gets into the car, she makes sure that she has at least two of them with her, just in case one drops out of her mouth while we're driving (a common occurrence when you're trying to talk with a piece of plastic in your mouth). She removes it to eat and drink, but that's about it. When she wants to have a conversation with you, she puts it to the side of her mouth like a cigar, and mumbles around it. And when we put her to bed at night, she has one pacifier in her mouth, and another in her hand. This prevents frantic middle-of-the-night searches when one drops to the floor and rolls under the bed.

When she turned 3 last month, we had a long talk about giving up the pacifier. "When I'm three and a half I'll do it", she responded. We haven't pushed the issue, although it's becoming more and more of an embarrassment when we are out and about. She looks a little foolish, and I think she's finally beginning to realize it.

"I don't need my mimi anymore", she informed me this afternoon. "I think I'll just throw it in the trash".

Oh, my. Cold turkey is not always the easiest way to go, but I didn't want to pass up this opportunity. So, together we put the pacifier into the kitchen trash can, which is stored in the cabinet under the sink, with a child-proof lock on the door. A few minutes later she brought me three more pacifiers, which she had found lying around the house. Those went into the trash as well. Over the course of the afternoon we threw away 9 pacifiers, all at her request. We had one small melt-down right before dinner when she just could not handle the withdrawal anymore, but a movie and a cup of juice temporarily solved the craving.

And then came bedtime. She cried. She told Dan she couldn't sleep. She begged him to pull the pacifiers out of the trash.

And then Dan came up with a brilliant, on-the-spot solution. He bribed her.

"If you go to sleep without the mimi, I'll get you a happy-meal for dinner tomorrow".

And that was it. Off she went, and I haven't heard another peep from her.

But between you and me, I found another pacifier in the bathroom after she went to bed. And I hid it away. Just in case.

Future Mathematicians

A conversation overhead today:

BETH: I'm older than you, because I'm four and a half

AMY: Yeah? Well, when I'm four and a half, then I'll be older than YOU.

BETH (laughing loudly): Amy, that's crazy. When you're four and a half, I'll be like 10 or 20 or something.

AMY: Okay, well when I'm 10 or 20, then I'll be older than you.

BETH (rolling her eyes): Amy, by the time you're 10 or 20, I'll be like 35 or something...like Daddy.

AMY (quietly) Oh. That's really old.

Coffee, anyone?

I'll admit it. I am a coffee addict, and have been for quite some time. I believe it all started back in those first years of working overnight shifts as a nurse. We would consume insane amounts of caffeine in an attempt to remain awake and alert throughout the night. Since then, I am physically and emotionally incapable of starting my day without two cups of flavored coffee. I sleepwalked through each of my pregnancies, when I gave up caffeine for the health of the baby, but I quickly resumed the habit after each baby was born. Sometimes, I can manage to enjoy my caffeine before the girls even wake up, giving me enough energy to face another hectic day with three little ones.

A couple of days ago a package arrived on our doorstep. The return address informed me that it was from Megan, my college roommate (and the mother of our adorable Godson). Her husband works for a coffee company, and he has treated us to some various samples in the past. The girls raced over to see what had arrived in the mail, and they gathered around as Dan opened the box.

"Oh, it's just coffee", said Beth disappointedly, as the box was opened.

Just coffee? JUST coffee? There is no such thing as "just coffee", I thought, as I gazed in wonder at the many bags of java, in various blends and flavors. I picked one up and smelled the delicious aroma. Dan and I gently removed each bag from the box and stored them all in the cabinet with care. We've been enjoying a different flavor each day this week, and look forward to waking each morning to the scent of this wonderful gift.

In fact, just writing about it is making me start daydreaming about the taste. I think I'll go brew another pot right now. Coffee, anyone?

Little Snow White

Erin has recently become a member of the "dress-up club". Beth and Amy usually race to the dress-up bin each morning before breakfast has even been served. They chose their favorite princess dresses, and run to me for help with buttons, zippers and sashes. Erin has been watching this activity for over a year now, and has finally decided to join in the fun. She prefers this Snow White outfit, which features a yellow skirt reaching to her feet (the cause of many slips and falls). She often completes the ensemble with a white Easter bonnet and a plastic necklace.

I have been watching her waddle around the house for a few weeks now, and I've had a nagging feeling that she reminds me of someone or something, but I just couldn't place it. Today it came to me. If you've seen the movie "ET" you may recall the scene when Gertie dresses the Extra Terrestrial up in her dress-up clothes, and he waddles into Eliott's room wearing a dress, pearls and a hat. Erin has a similar unsteady gait and is about the same height as ET, so hence the feeling of deja-vu. I think Erin is much cuter, however. Don't you?

Rub-a-dub-dub

Erin does not like the bathtub. I tend to work most evenings, so out of necessity, Dan bathes the three girls together in the tub. Erin spends most of her bath time in tears, while Beth and Amy splash and swim, play with toys, and color on the walls with the tub crayons (which, by the way, are not quite as easy to clean off the walls as the manufacturers may lead you to believe). We've never been quite sure if Erin just doesn't enjoy the water, or whether she's simply terrified of the older two girls splashing water in her face and swimming on top of her.

Tonight Erin enjoyed a particularly messy pasta dinner. Since she ended up with most of the spaghetti clinging to her hair, face and hands, I decided to put her in the tub by herself while Dan finished cleaning up the kitchen. I filled the bath with warm, soapy water and gently eased her in. I handed her a few toys, and watched her face break into a big smile. She splashed. She clapped her hands. She filled some toys with water and crowed with laughter as they squirted all over the walls. She filled cups with warm water and poured it all over her little tummy. When I drained the tub and reached for her towel, she started to cry in protest. She was actually enjoying herself, and didn't want the fun to end.

I wrapped her in a fuzzy towel and gently carried her to her room. We sat in the rocking chair for a few minutes, and she put two fingers in her mouth and relaxed in my arms. Her wet hair spiked up all over her head, and drops of water clung to her eyelashes like icicles to a tree branch. We rocked together for a few minutes, and listened to the sounds of the dishes clanking in the kitchen, and her sisters playing together downstairs.

Maybe she feels crowded in that tub with her two big sisters. Maybe she was just happy to have some time alone tonight with her Mommy. For whatever reason, she definitely enjoyed her bath this evening. Soon enough, she'll be one of the "big kids" too, and she won't want to be left out of the fun. So tonight, I'm glad I got to spend this precious time with my littlest daughter. I love you, Erin.

Picture Perfect, Take Two

You loyal readers out there may recall my post back in late October, describing our family photo shoot, in a flooding basement in the midst of a nor'easter. Well, today we returned to the photo studio to examine the proofs, and to chose Christmas cards and Christmas gifts, family photos for the living room and wallet-sized pictures to show off to friends.

So once again I bundled the girls into the van. Ironically enough, today was a beautiful, crisp, sunny day...exactly the weather I had hoped for last month! Once again we had to navigate through the antique shop filled with expensive and fragile merchandise, and down the winding stairway to the photographer's shop. But this time I was on my own. Dan was at work, so I was attempting to manage this tricky morning task by myself.

Amy, in particular, was very, very cranky. Tired from the Thanksgiving festivities and coming down with a cold, she had been crying most of the morning. I sat her down at the little kids' table, along with Beth, and gave them some coloring books and crayons. I held Erin in my arms while I sat down on a high stool to look at the proofs. Almost immediately, Amy began to whine.

"Mommy, I want to go home", she said.

"Yes, Amy. Give me a few minutes to just look at these pictures", I responded.

Her cries got louder. "I want to go home NOW", she yelled.

I quickly flipped through a couple more pictures, trying to block out the escalating tantrum. I was halfway through the stack of photos when she lay down on the floor and began kicking and screaming. "I want to hold you! I want to hold you right now!!"

I put Erin on the hard concrete floor and instructed Beth to play with her. I picked up Amy and again tried to concentrate on the pictures. Amy lunged at the photos in an attempt to see them, and managed to knock the pile all over the floor. As the photographer helped me to gather them up, Amy started yelling, "I need to go potty! I need to go potty right NOW!"

The photographer told me about a bathroom located three floors up, so I dragged Amy and Erin up the stairs. Only when we arrived at the top did Amy inform me that, "Maybe I don't really have to go, after all". Back down we went, and I again sat at the table to look at the photos.

Two pictures later, Erin fell and smacked her head on the concrete floor. A large red lump began forming on her forehead, and she sobbed and sobbed. While I cuddled her in my arms, Amy clung to my legs, screaming "Now I REALLY need to go potty! I have to go NOW!!".

I grabbed some of the cuter pictures from the top of the pile. I ordered some cards, some 5x7's and some wallet pictures. I handed her my credit card and dragged the kids out to the car.

I still am not completely sure what I ordered, so I think I will be as surprised as the rest of you when I open the Christmas card this year. Ho, ho, ho! Wishing you all a wonderful, peaceful holiday season.

Gobble Gobble

Yesterday Beth made an adorable turkey at preschool, using a pine-cone and some feathers. She ran out of school holding her creation, and proudly explained how it was made. She didn't mention the fact that this project was accomplished without utilizing any glue, so I wasn't prepared for all of the feathers to start blowing off the turkey as we made our way through the parking lot.

Beth started to scream with frustration and anger as her turkey was plucked by the wind. I tried to grab the colorful feathers as they blew by, and promised to "fix it" when we got home. But when we arrived at the car Beth burst into tears when she noticed that the bird's head was...well...gone.

I tried to convince her that now it was a headless turkey, ready to be stuffed and eaten for Thanksgiving dinner, but that did not prove to be a successful argument. Erin was starting to fuss because her hands were so cold, and of course Amy was crying about something-or-other, so I was tempted to just bustle everyone back into the car. But I took a good look at Beth's tear-streaked face and made a decision.

We headed back to the parking lot. And there we were, searching diligently through the thousands of dried brown leaves, searching for a one-inch-long turkey head, made from brown construction paper. Friends of mine stopped their cars to ask what we were looking for.

"The turkey's head", I replied to each question. The other mothers would laugh and then roll up the windows, driving off in the warmth of their cars. We searched for a few minutes and then finally Beth and I made a joint decision. The head was gone, we were all freezing, so we would have to make a new one at home.

We trudged back up the hill and I bundled Erin and Amy into their car seats. I turned to lift Beth into the van, and she gave me a big smile through her tears. "Thanks, Mommy", she said. "I'm glad we at least tried. We'll make a better one at home".

So this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for simple solutions to seemingly simple problems. I'm thankful for these beautiful little people that fill my days with chaos and cuddles, love and laughter. I'm thankful for a husband that supports us all in so many ways, and for the many friends and family members that surround us and make our lives richer.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Right On Time

Today we took a road trip to visit one of my good friends from High School. As we drove along, Amy called out in a worried voice, "Mommy, look at all those cars up ahead of us. Are we late?"

I assured her that we were right on time.

"Oh good", she said. Then she turned around to peer at all the cars behind us on the highway. "It must be those people that are late".

Learning something new

Today I came in the door from work, and was greeted by Amy's happy shouts. "Daddy learned, Mommy! Look what he learned!"

She ran up to me, grinning from ear to ear. I waited to hear more about Daddy's apparent lesson, but she didn't say a word. She just continued smiling, and waiting expectantly. Finally, I queried, "What did Daddy learn?"

She tossed her head back and forth. "He learned to put in TWO ponytails! He always said he couldn't do it. But today, he learned!"

I looked carefully at her curls, and saw that, sure enough, Daddy did learn. They were slightly crooked, but I definitely can't complain about that, since even I still haven't completely mastered the art of finding the perfect part in a head full of frizzy curls. The two ponytail holders were not even remotely the same color, but I had to admit that her hair didn't look too bad.

Who said that being a stay-at-home Dad on the weekends would be boring?! Daddy is apparently learning new and very important things every day. Amy is so proud of him. Actually, I am too.

Who Would Have Guessed

that the baby who refuses to eat practically any food we offer her (including apples, crackers, bananas, cereal, and all those popular staples), would LOVE extra-spicy tacos?!!!

What?!

BETH: Mommy, I couldn't find my nightgown...until I found it. Then I was able to find it.

A Mother's Love

I must admit that the warm, sultry, and rainy weather we've been having in mid-November makes me somewhat cranky. I'm not sure if the girls are feeling my irritations or if they, too, are getting tired of the almost-summer-like temperatures. For whatever reason, they have been very difficult over the past few days. Today, however, was probably the hardest day we've had in awhile.

Amy in particular has been having multiple temper tantrums. Today she had a giant meltdown in the parking lot of Beth's school, forcing me to drag her, kicking and screaming, all the way up the hill to the car, while also trying to push a 20-pound baby in a carriage, carry Beth's over-stuffed backpack, balance a wet-with-paste collage that Beth had just created, and somehow keep Elizabeth on track as well. Needless to say, by the time we arrived at the car, I was exhausted and quite frazzled.

Amy and Erin both missed naps because of an event we went to this afternoon, so by the time dinner rolled around both of them were sobbing. Dan was away at a conference, so I cooked dinner with two screaming children clinging to my legs, gave baths to the tune of hysterical crying, and finally, thankfully, tucked my little darlings into bed. I then collapsed on the couch and thanked God that the day had finally ended.

But just now, I went into their rooms to check on them. Amy was sleeping so soundly. Her blond curls were plastered onto her face, and her precious stuffed "piggy" was cuddled in her arms. Beth was curled up with her favorite "Wizard of Oz" blanket on top of her. I kissed them both good-night and then went into Erin's room. She, too, was sound asleep, lying on her stomach with her bottom in the air. I covered her with a blanket and tip-toed out of the room.

When I see them sleeping so soundly, it's hard to remember why I felt so exhausted and irritated just a few hours ago. The chaos of the day, the anger and frustration with the tantrums...it all just drifts away. Seeing Amy, sleeping there so peacefully, is enough to make me forget this difficult day and look forward to greeting her in the morning. I just hope it's not TOO early in the morning.

Three-year-old tantrums

Today Amy had a terrible temper tantrum, and she ended up sitting in the "time-out" chair in the family room for a few minutes. She was kicking, screaming and banging her feet on the chair. I stayed in the kitchen, preparing dinner and attempting to remain calm in the midst of all the chaos. I walked back into the room to check on her, and she looked over at me, shaking with anger, and screamed "Mommy, I'm SO MAD at you! I'm so mad, that I decided that I will NEVER BE A LIBRARIAN LIKE YOU! So THERE!"

I had all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing. I quickly left the room and returned to the meal preparation while Amy's tantrum slowly resolved.

Sometimes, there is humor to be found around here when I least expect it.

That's our baby

AMY: Mommy, if we get a new baby someday, can we still keep Erin? Because I'm starting to really, really like her.

Happy Homemaker

Last night the vacuum finally cleaned its last floor. For months now it has been making very strange sounds, and when my Father-in-law heard it last month he commented, "That thing sounds like it's on its last leg". I refused to believe him. This vacuum has been well-loved for almost 10 years, and we have probably spent over $500 on various repairs. Buy a new one? Never. It has all the perfect features, and we have become old friends. But last night, when I dragged it into the living room to clean the cracker-crumbs before the ants could discover them, it started to make a horrific noise. The whole house started rumbling, but I continued to push valiantly forward with my cleaning attempts. However, when I noticed a strong scent of burning rubber, I finally caved in. I turned it off and admitted defeat.

Upstairs, Dan was getting the girls into their pajamas. He tells me that when the vacuum turned on, the girls ran to the window. "I hear a helicopter!" screamed Beth.

"No, I think it's just Mommy using the vacuum", Dan replied.

Beth looked outside again. "I don't see Mommy outside with a vacuum", she said.

Dan came to the top of the stairs, caught a whiff of the burning scent, and instructed me to put the vacuum outside until he could look at it. When he examined it later in the evening, he broke the bad news to me.

"We need a new vacuum", he gently said.

We looked through the Sunday newspaper advertisements and compared some prices. We chose the perfect vacuum, and today I set off, with the three girls in tow, to make the purchase.

Shopping for such an important item really should be done during the evening when the children are in bed. Because, of course, the chosen model was sold out. So there I stood, gaping at the hundreds of different models, trying to scan the information on the sides of the boxes, while attempting to keep Erin from climbing out of the shopping cart.

"Get the pink one, Mommy!" hollered Beth.

"No, I want the blue one", piped Amy.

The yelling and whining got louder, and I finally just grabbed a Bissell cleaner (pink) and threw it in the cart. When we got home I excitedly opened the box, ready to try out the new model on the after-lunch mess. But instead of a vacuum, I discovered various sized pieces of plastic, along with lots and lots of screws. "Some assembly required", states the side of the box.

So there it still sits, waiting for Dan to put it together. And there the crumbs still sit, too. Now, I'm just waiting for the ants. Hopefully the lingering smell of burning rubber is enough to keep them away until Dan finishes assembling my new, pink vacuum.

Rainy day blessings

It's 7:45am, and THE GIRLS ARE STILL SLEEPING! What a rare occurence, all thanks to the dark, rainy morning we have today. Very soon they will awaken, and then we will be dealing with the inevitable cabin fever that accompanies inclement weather. But right now, at this very moment, I am so grateful for the rain. It's peaceful. It's quiet. Sometimes a gloomy day is just perfect.

More Fall Fun

Ah, there's nothing quite like the joy of raking leaves on a sunny Fall day. As my friend Sheila said, "It always sounds like a great idea at first. All that good exercise and fresh air. But after awhile it's not really all that enjoyable". My sentiments exactly.

We finally had a sunny weekend day. So today was the day to tackle raking the entire yard. We started out this morning with Dan and I taking turns. Dan raked for a couple of hours while I sat inside with the girls. I watched him through the window, just itching for my turn with the rake. When he came inside, exhausted and sore, I headed out for my turn. I took a deep breath of the cool, crisp air, and started attacking the daunting task. After about a half hour I stopped and evaluated my progress. I realized that I had:

-Many, many small piles of leaves, scattered all over the yard

-No game plan for getting rid of these small piles of leaves

-Very, very wet and cold feet

-Sore neck, back and arms,

-Some extremely large blisters forming on both of my hands

I also noticed that more leaves were falling from the trees, faster than I could rake them up.

I felt very defeated. I finished raking the few piles onto the tarp and carried them to the woods. Then I headed inside to get ready for my nephew's first birthday party.

After the party, we decided to head out for some more yard work. This time, we approached it differently. We put Erin into bed for a nap, and brought the monitor outside. Beth and Amy came out too, and we gave them their kid-sized rakes so that they could "help". We all worked together, and the girls laughed and jumped in the piles. They had contests to see who could put the most leaves onto the blue tarp, and Dan gave them "tarp rides" on each trip back from the woods. Their laughter rang out through the yard, and somehow it didn't seem like so much drudgery. We finished the majority of the yard, and although I am developing some pretty large blisters, and require lots of advil to take care of these sore muscles, we did have a lot of fun this afternoon.

Yes, it was fun. But since there's still a bit more raking to do, I'm really, really glad that it's going to rain tomorrow.

Pretty In Pink

Today I had jury duty, so I spent the day at the court house. Dan assumed "stay-at-home-Dad" duties, including attending Beth's parent-teacher conference at school. I arrived home to find the girls all happy and content, and the house relatively unchanged. The van, however, was a different story.

Amy has been begging for a booster seat "like Beth's". She actually is very close to outgrowing her car seat, so we have been discussing the possibility of purchasing a booster chair for her. Apparently, today was the day. Dan took the girls to Target, and he LET HER PICK OUT a chair. I didn't even realize that chairs were made in quite this color. It's so...pink. Neon, actually. I did a double-take when I walked by the van.

"I picked it out myself!", screamed Amy when she saw me. "Watch me sit in it!!"

She climbed into her chair and sat down with a big smile on her face. She pulled out the cup-holders for me to see, and she bounced up and down to show how comfortable it was. She's just tickled pink (pun intended) with her new car seat.

Never again will I wander through store parking lots in search of my missing car. This chair can be seen from INSIDE the store. It can be viewed through snowstorms, rainstorms, hailstorms or even through the deepest fog. Santa could hitch this chair to the front of his sleigh if Rudolph happened to be ill on December 24th.

Here's a picture of the new booster seat. The camera did not quite capture the true color, so you'll have to use some of your imagination. Just make sure you also imagine a little blond-haired girl sitting in the chair, with a huge smile on her face.

If only it worked that way...

AMY (Looking through her diminishing bag of Halloween treats): "Mommy, I'm running out of candy. Can you get my costume ready? I'll need to go trick or treating again in a few days."

Back to the ER

Yesterday Beth had the stitches taken out of her chin at the pediatrician's office. She was thrilled to be "back to normal", and I took a few smiling pictures of her after we got home. I had planned to post the photos here, along with a catchy caption such as "Look, Mommy. No stitches!" However, before I had a chance to go online, her suture line popped open. The pediatrician sent us back to the ER, where we spent a long and emotional night. The very drawn-out saga ended at the pediatrician's office this afternoon, where the wound was cleaned and pulled back together. Beth has really been so brave throughout all of this, and we're so proud of her.

The whole experience has been somewhat eye-opening for us. We realize that Beth has total confidence in our ability to make good decisions and do the best thing for her. She hasn't enjoyed the experiences, she is full of questions about what is happening to her, and she has had some pretty loud crying spells. However, throughout it all she looks at us with complete trust. Sometimes this responsibility can seem a little overwhelming. God has given us these three little girls, and it's up to us to take care of them, and make sure that they grow into the best adults they can possibly be. So tonight, we hope and pray that we have done the best that we could do. And now, we do what parents do best. We hold her. We reassure her. And we make sure she knows how loved she really is.

Early Mornings

Yesterday morning Erin woke up way, way too early. She is still struggling with the time change from last weekend, and she is often heard chatting away at 5:30 in the morning. Sometimes if we ignore her she will go back to sleep, so I waited for a bit to see if she would drift off to dreamland again. After a couple of minutes her babbling turned to whining. Then the whining turned to crying. The crying soon became a loud screeching. I worried that she would wake her older sisters, and a sunrise breakfast with three little girls was not an appealing thought. Since Dan was already up and heading out the door for an early meeting at work, I dragged myself out of bed to check on Erin.

I felt a little aggravated as I headed toward her room. Why couldn't she just sleep a bit later? Why did I have to get up so early? Would I ever get a good night's sleep again?

I grumpily pushed open the door and saw little Erin curled up in a ball in the corner of her crib, sobbing. She picked up her head and looked over at me. "Mama", she said, smiling through her tears. "Mama".

I picked her up and discovered that she was soaking wet. I changed her into warm, dry clothes and sat in the rocking chair to cuddle her. She put two fingers into her mouth and started to close her eyes. I kissed her head and held her close. It may be years before I get a good night's sleep again, but sometimes a good cuddle is worth getting out of bed for.

Car Tunes

If you don't know the old tune I'm about to tell you about then you probably won't see the humor in this story, but hopefully some of you will get it!

Beth called out from the back of the van, "Mommy, can you put the Barney tape on?" Since we own at least 5 different Barney tapes, I questioned her, "Which one?"

"The one that has that song about the little girl that lost her rabbit, and she wants it back so badly", was Beth's answer.

Little girl that lost her rabbit? For the life of me, I could not think which song that could be. I asked her to sing a little bit of it for me.

Her song came floating through the van.

"Bring back...bring back...bring back my bunny to me, to me! Oh, bring back...bring back...bring back my bunny to me!"

Comments, please. Do you recognize it?!

Quiet Days

Lately, our schedules have been much too overbooked. Swimming and gymnastics classes, Erin's baby gym class at the Y, storytime at the library, weekly playgroup and Beth's preschool two mornings a week have kept us constantly moving to the tick of a clock. The girls ask me each morning, "What's going on today?", and I inform them of the plan of attack for that particular day. They enjoy the activities, but the last few months have been so busy that we did cut out a few classes for this new session at the Y. Even so, we still spend a lot of time running from activity to activity.

The last couple of days have been very different. Beth is doing much better, but she doesn't feel 100 percent. She's still catching up on sleep from her night in the ER, her chin is sore, and she's just plain afraid of moving too fast and bumping her face again. So we've been taking it easy. We skipped all the classes and activities except for playgroup, and just spent time together. We went to the library this morning and had a great time chosing some new books and a couple of movies. When we got home, Erin went down for a nap while Beth and Amy cuddled up on my lap to read the new books. It's getting quite chilly outside now, so it feels safe and cozy, sitting together in the living room and sharing stories. We baked some bread. We watched a movie together. It was a nice, quiet day.

Of course I would never have wished for Beth's accident to happen, but sometimes it takes events like this to force us to slow down and just enjoy being together. By tomorrow they will be starting to go stir-crazy, but for a couple of days it was nice to not hear that clock ticking in the background. It was nice to slow down and enjoy the girls. By this evening, Beth was starting to climb the couch, stand on chairs, and jump off her bed. She's wondering when she can go back to gymnastics class. She's trying to turn cartwheels in her room. The stitches come out on Monday, and then she'll be back to her routine. I hope that I can manage to instill a little of this quiet calm into our days even after the busy times return. I think it's pretty important...for all of us.

In Stitches

Poor Beth spent the evening in the ER getting six stitches in her chin. Dancing in the kitchen after dinner, she slipped on the hard floor and fell right onto her face. I'll spare you the chaotic details in the aftermath of the fall. I was not home at the time, so it was a pretty frantic evening, saved by Aunt Michelle, who drove over with her screaming and tired baby to stay with Erin and Amy while Dan took Beth to the hospital. Beth is doing well now, although I'm told that two very large men had to hold her down while the doctor did his sewing.

I'll leave you with the one thing this evening that made us smile. When the secretary questioned Dan, "Has she ever been in this hospital before?", Beth piped up, "Oh yes. I was here three times to visit when Amy was born, and then three more times to visit when my sister Erin was born".

Thanks Aunt Michelle for being there for us tonight!!

Too much information

Today, as we sat by the window and watched the leaves falling off the trees, we talked about the fact that winter would soon be here, and snow would cover the trees and grass. Amy asked, "Mommy, where does the snow come from?"

Eager to teach her something new, I harkened back to my Eighth Grade Earth Science classes. I explained a bit about the water cycle, and the effects of freezing temperatures on the falling water, sleet or snow. Amy's eyes glazed over, and her mouth hung open.

When I proudly finished my science lesson, Amy had one comment.

"Mommy, the only answer I really needed was, 'Oh, Amy...snow comes from the sky'".