Remember I made capes for the girls for Christmas? And that they didn’t care about them at all?
In my quest to force the girls to like their capes, I hastily cut out some mini capes for their animal friends.
Success!
Also adding to the fun is a mattress:
My grandparents gave us their bed. We’re working on getting rid of our old bed, but in the meantime the girls have LOVED their indoor trampoline.
Several months ago we had family pictures taken by Cherylann Collins. We thought she did a great job and were happy with the results.
(Brooke was “fishing” and wouldn’t let go of her rod during the photo shoot.)
(Finally! The fishing rod is cast aside!)
I have recently heard Brooke (4 1/2 years old) or Caroline (2 1/2 years old) say things that have left me thinking, “We have to deal with this issue already?!” I give you the following vignettes:
#1:
Me (cheerfully): “Time to get ready for church!”
Brooke (grumpily): “Why? I hate church.”
#2:
Me (cheerfully): “It’s a nursery day!”
Caroline (grumpily): “No! I’m not singing! No singing!”
#3:
Brooke (out of breath from running to me after playing outside): “Mom! Wyatt [her five-year-old friend] said I look so cute. Let’s put polish on my nails so when I go out he’ll say, ‘Wow! You look SUPER cute!'”
I can’t handle this.
And don’t go telling me it will only get worse.
We had a great Christmas. On Christmas Eve we went up to my parents’ house. Ben and Brooke were anxiously awaiting the program:
My aunt organized a Minute to Win It game. Brooke wanted to try it out until she was told she’d need to dip her nose in Vaseline and use it to try to transport cotton balls from one plate to another. She bowed out after hearing that:
Maggie was a great baby holder:
Rachel was also a great baby tender:
And that brings us to Christmas morning! Spencer couldn’t wait to see what Santa brought him:
The girls were thrilled with their new kitchen:
Caroline showed off her flashlight:
The girls love flashlights. They always find our flashlights, hide them in their room under their beds, and then pull them out after we’ve turned out their lights. Sneaky, sneaky. After yelling at them countless times for taking our flashlights, we finally decided to just get them their own.
Spencer loved his new toy:
Lately the girls have enjoyed being superheroes. They will take Spencer’s bibs and wear them backwards and pretend they have capes on. That gave me the great idea to make superhero capes for them for Christmas. Didn’t they turn out cute? The girls hate them. Oh well. Can’t win them all.
All of our festivities made the kids exhausted. Any time we got in the car, this happened:
A cute picture of the kids with my parents:
Brooke and Caroline love the Play-Doh machine Grandpa Golden gave them:
It wouldn’t be the Christmas season without a round of illness spread throughout our household. I had nothing going on all week last week except on Thursday when I had two visiting teaching appointments and my visiting teachers coming over, I was baby-sitting for a friend, and I was set to conduct a neighborhood meeting.
So of course, I got sick that morning. I woke up and noticed my stomach was churning. A couple of hours later I was throwing up. Dallas left for work and I was left wondering how I would care for three kids by myself in my state.
I decided I would call my mom and beg her to come to my rescue. After all, mere weeks ago my sister also got the barfs and my mom dropped everything to come to her aid and watch her ONE child for her.
I should have known my mom doesn’t love me as much as my sister, though, for when I called, she said something along the lines of, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry you’re sick. But it’s okay! You’ll get over it! You can do it! Call me when you’re well!”
Thanks, Mom.
When the girls woke up, Caroline laid next to me in my bed. She heard me moaning and saying my stomach hurt. Before long, she was also moaning and saying her stomach hurt. The problem was I didn’t know if she was simply mimicking or if she was actually sick as well.
I got my answer a little while later. She sat up, carefully crawled off the bed, announced, “I have to spit in the potty,” calmly entered the bathroom, and threw up. This happened about four more times throughout the day and every time she made it to the bathroom in time further securing her position as easiest child ever. I didn’t get the hang of throwing up in the toilet until I was a teenager at least.
My visiting teacher saved the day by bringing me a care package of goodies to help me and the kids get through the sickness. Bless her.
Dallas called to say he was coming home from work early which nearly caused me to jump for joy until he said it was because he was also feeling sick. When he came home he said he had to stop on the way and throw up. All over the brand-new freeway. For some reason I found that hilarious.
Luckily we’re all well now and my mom was right – I did make it through the day somehow, and bonus! I even lived to blog about it.
