Three Things

• Last weekend our little library hosted an Easter egg hunt.  The weather was beautiful, the Easter bunny creepy.

I was a little surprised when Atticus told me that yes, he did want his picture taken with the Easter bunny- but he waited until Caedmon was there to get in the picture, too.  No sense in getting that close to something so obviously inbred without the support of your brother, right?

• When I want to impart a message to our children, I might say something like, "Come here, guys!" or "Children, I have some important information I wish to impart!" or "STOP TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER AND GET IN HERE!"  When Derek has something to say, he will sometimes say, "Kids, take a knee."

Sports-inspired parenting

• I've been looking for solutions to my current problem:  I don't have a whole lot of time to read right now.  Of course I can eek out a few minutes here and there, but when I'm trying to plow through a tome of a novel, I really prefer bigger chunks of time, for mental continuity and so I don't have to keep flipping back, repeatedly asking, "Now who is Sophie, again?"  

One solution:  Read young adult and juvenile fiction.  It's quick, yet you can still find just as many high-quality books as in the adult genres.

This book is a few years old now, but my gosh, is it good.  I recommend this one if:  Someone in your life has dyslexia, if you've ever felt different or left out or not good enough, if you have children, or if you yourself were once a child.  Click on the link for a proper synopsis.

I know I just recommended a slew of picture books in a recent post, but this one, this one you have to find.  It is clever.  It is hilarious.  The writing is so good, and the illustrations so perfect for the text, you'll read it over and over again, to a kid or maybe just to yourself.  

The end.

A List

I had decided not to write a post today because I was in such a determined state of grouchiness, but now it's thundering out and there's a light rain to water my hard-working spring flowers.  Few things cheer me up like a healthy thunderstorm, so I'm feeling much better now, thank you.

• The first hyacinths have bloomed:

I planted these a couple years ago, but for whatever reason they didn't bloom last spring.  When it started to look like they might actually flower this year, I got excited about the peach-colored hyacinths I was just sure I had planted in this spot.  Well.  These aren't peach.

They are, however, a beautiful purple-blue color, and I'm pleased as punch with them.  The first flowers of the season are always so exciting.

• We celebrated a lovely, low-key Easter with church and golf and gardening.  I have all of three photos of the kids in their Easter finery ("Easter finery" in this household equating to whatever nice-ish clothes I could cobble together three hours before the church service, as I stopped spending money on holiday clothing years ago), or maybe it was four, and right around 100 photos of the kids and Derek golfing.  I will not be forcing you to look at all 100+, but fair warning:  There are going to be a large amount of pics on here this week.  Some will be sweet:

Derek and Cade golfing.  Caedmon looks a bit waif-like in all the golf photos, as he's wearing one of Derek's hats and one of Atticus's shirts.  I did not notice this until we were on the course.  Oh, well.

Some will baffle:

I took this photo of Adelaide during the Easter egg hunt, and I'm still not sure what's happening here.

But in precisely zero photos will everyone be smiling.

Caedmon's "Lollipop Guild" face

• I was going to have a third thing here, but I can't remember what it was.  This is a problem because I cannot let myself have a list with just two items.  So... fill in your own third item.  And make it clever, would you?  Or perhaps heart-warming, or funny, or something?  Thanks.

Smooth Operator

Hello, all!  I hope you had a pleasant, joyous, and stress-free Easter weekend.

Let's see, how did ours go?

Saturday I cursed the person who invented the entire concept of the Easter bunny.  Then I cursed myself for deciding to ever take part in all that nonsense.  Don't get me wrong; I am most certainly not one of those parents who seems to treat Easter like Second Christmas.  Our kids got some prunes and some banana chips and some yogurt-covered raisins, and yes, even some candy.  But I was just so irritated, stuffing their baskets Saturday night, mostly because it's nearly impossible to try and get a 4-year-old to focus on Jesus when there's candy in the running.

Then I did a mental face-slap and told myself to lighten up.  Which helped, and made for a much happier Easter day for the rest of my family.

Easter morning there were special Easter outfits to don (Adelaide's outfit:  Easter dress from last year, cardigan from three Easters past, shoes we already owned; Atticus's outfit: already owned khaki pants and shoes, $1 garage sale Ralph Lauren button down shirt; Caedmon's outfit: already owned khaki pants and shoes, hand-me-down shirt from Atticus; total Easter outfit cost:  $1.  BOOM BABY.), Easter candy to snarf when Mom's not looking, and pictures to take.  Our children once again must have conspired to ensure that in no shot would all three of them be smiling.  They were more or less successful.

Then we went to church, where I got to hold a gigantic 1-year-old as he cried himself to sleep while I was helping in the children's area.  I also learned that it is very difficult to maintain any pride or modesty while sitting in a chair with said sleeping toddler (seriously, that kid was bigger than Caedmon, who's no delicate flower) sprawled over you while wearing a white sundress and four-inch wedges (me, not the boy- but that would have been kind of hilarious).  

After that, we went to our friends' house for Easter dinner (remember Hannah*? It was her family).  We all ate delicious food, Atticus was about as subtle as a Mack truck around Hannah, and the kids enjoyed an Easter egg hunt.

Caedmon managed to latch on to one of Hannah's younger sisters, Hallie*.  Hallie's a couple years younger than Hannah, and took it upon herself to help take care of Cade while we were there.  Caedmon, for his part, loved the attention and its associated perks.

For instance:  Cade and Hallie were both seated at the children's table (you know what's awesome?  Getting to the point where your kids are all old enough to sit at the children's table BY THEMSELVES), and she helped him with various food-related tasks, such as buttering his bread.  I had noticed, by occasionally glancing at the kids' table, that she had given him three or four pieces of buttered bread, but I wasn't about to quibble when I was getting to eat all by myself.  If bread and butter is what it takes to get me un-interrupted ham-eating time, then bread and butter he shall have.  What Derek eventually pointed out was that Caedmon wasn't actually eating the bread, he was merely licking the butter off, handing the piece of bread back to Hallie, who would then slather another layer of butter on, and the whole process would repeat itself.  Again, I would have put a stop to it, but I had ham and mashed potatoes in front of me.  I will not apologize for my personal hierarchy of priorities.

A short time later, Caedmon asked Derek and I for dessert.  He got a red-velvet cupcake, and a few minutes later we cleaned off his red velvet-laden face, hands, neck, chest, and shirt.  

At that point he was expected to scamper off so that I could eat my own cupcake.  Maybe halfway through that cupcake, however, Derek motioned to the kids' table, where lo and behold, Caedmon is again seated, now with a slab of four-layer cake in front of him.  It didn't take long to deduce that Cade, in his two-year-old boy wisdom, had skipped the part where he asks his parents for more dessert (knowing what the answer would be), and gone straight to sweet, soft-hearted Hallie, who of course gave him some.  

She then helped him hunt for Easter eggs, putting off her own search until his basket was full.  

After all that, he wouldn't hug her good-bye.  He did ask about her (twice) after we returned home, but I explained that he had had his chance to bid her a fond farewell, and had missed it.  I also may have wandered down a confusing path that included a lecture on the dangers of playing hard to get and how girls that go for that kind of thing generally aren't worth getting.  Fortunately for me, he was struggling to peel an orange and generally ignoring me and my drivel by the time I came to and remembered to whom I was speaking.

There you go.  Our Easter in a nutshell.

*Names changed to protect the innocent.

The Pope, Easter, and Star Wars

It's Tuesday.  I made a list for you.  You're welcome.

• I've decided to either convert to Catholicism or adopt the new Pope as another grandfather.  Because seriously?  Pope Francis is... he's just... he's amazing.  He's been doing stuff like eschewing all the pomp and dress codes and window dressing that surround the papacy and is instead doing things like embracing simplicity and, well, loving people instead.  Now don't get me wrong.  I'm a Missouri Synod Lutheran.  I love tradition, religious rituals, liturgy, you name it.  I tend to prefer hymns to modern praise music, and one of my very favorites was written in the 10th century and resembles Gregorian chant more than anything else.  So I'm okay with pomp and dress codes and window dressing.  But Pope Francis is washing the feet of imprisoned juvenile delinquents and refusing to throw away his wrong-colored shoes because they're still new.  He's being more like Jesus and less like me, and trust me when I say that this is a very good thing.  (I love this blog if you want to read more about my newest grandpa.)

• I was saying something the other day about being "knocked over" when Atticus exclaimed, "Hey!  That's the month my birthday's in!"  I then realized that he genuinely believes that he was born in the month of "Knocked Over," and have since been having trouble convincing him that he was, in fact, born in the month of October.  Then today, Caedmon told me, "My birthday's in Knocked Over, too!"  Cade was born in September, so he has no excuse for this mispronunciation.  Well, other than being two years old.

• Apparently this Sunday is Easter Sunday.  I haven't bought any candy or egg dye.  I haven't done any Jesus-y lessons with the kids.  I haven't bought Adelaide a new Easter dress.  I am okay with all this.  (Except for the Jesus stuff.  I had planned on doing this elaborate crafty lesson thingy with the kids in the two weeks leading up to Easter, but I forgot about it 'til today.  Story of my life.)

• I just realized I could call the Pope "el Papa," as this is an accepted term for "Grandfather" and means "Pope" in Spanish!  I just can't call him "la Papa."  Because then I'd be calling him a potato.  

• Here are a few more photos of our trip.

The kiddos and Derek's mom on the back of an old train we had a ball exploring.

The force is strong with this one.  But not the one in the back.

Random Thoughts

As we knew it would be, it was an extremely busy weekend.  As a result, my mental processes are all discombobulated and my thoughts are scattered.  I feel like if I could just catch hold of one, I'd be able to pin it down and work it into something coherent.

Since that doesn't seem likely, how about a fun list to help me make some sense of what's going on in my head?  And you lucky dogs can come along for the ride.

• We (and by "we," I mean Derek and his dad) ripped the cabinets out of our kitchen.  We discovered a couple layers of awesome wallpaper, awesome linoleum, plaster, scary holes, and wood paneling.  I'd love to see what this kitchen looked like in the 60's; if the wallpaper and flooring are any indication, I'd say pretty darn amazing.  And by amazing I mean incredibly ugly.

• When Derek's parents generously offered to give us the cabinets out of their rental property that had burned down (well, except for the kitchen, of course), I said, "Yes, please!"  Do you know how much kitchen cabinets cost?  Well, neither do I, but I do hear they're really freaking expensive.  

• Although the cabinets made it through the fire, they are coated in a thin layer of soot, which is not so surprisingly difficult to get off.  After watching my old standby of vinegar and water fail miserably, I was contemplating using an actual manufactured cleaner (gasp!), when I decided to try give my magic eraser a try.  Let me tell you what, the person that named that product was no marketing genius; those things seriously have some kind of magical properties- I wouldn't be surprised to find that J.K. Rowling herself had written them into existence.  

• After Derek's parents stayed way later than they intended, re-hooking up our dishwasher, sink, etc, they finally headed back to Kansas.  Ten minutes after they left, Caedmon found a container of screws and created two large piles of them- one on the floor in front of the back door, the other by the front door.  I can't help but feel that this was no accident, and that the poor child may have inherited some of his mother's paranoia.  His sharp screw-booby trap reminded me rather forcefully of my sister's- only hers involved upside-down shoes, sharp high heels pointing upward to ward off any intruders.  While I won't say precisely which parent we inherited this tendency from, I will say it's not my mom that sleeps with a gun under her pillow.

• I was again reminded of just how useless I am when it comes to home improvement.  I'm terrible with power tools and have a tendency to break things.  My major contributions to the weekend involved sweeping the floor every ten minutes in an effort to appear useful and whimpering every time Derek asked me to go down to the basement for something.

• What does the expression, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth" mean?  What's a gift horse?  Is it like the Easter bunny, breaking into your house to leave you unhealthy gifts, or more like the tooth fairy, giving you money in exchange for body parts?  Can anyone enlighten me?

• Shortly after midnight last night, Adelaide woke Derek and me up by knocking on our bedroom door, crying softly.  She said her ear hurt and she couldn't sleep due to the pain.  I gave her some Tylenol, water, and sympathy, and tucked her back into bed.  After eventually falling back asleep, I had a nightmare, in which I took Adelaide to the doctor the next morning, and when he inspected her ear, instead of an infection, he found a cancerous tumor.  After a drawn-out illness, Adelaide died.  I woke to a sopping wet pillowcase; I had been crying in my sleep.  When we actually went to the doc this morning, there was no tumor in her ear.  Nor was there any infection.

• Derek's folks also took our children home after the first church service Sunday morning, which allowed me to sit with Derek in the video room during second service while he directed the video broadcast of our church's Easter service.  It was the closest thing we've had to a date since last November.  

• Garage sale season has once again begun.  I've already found some really cool- and really cheap, which only adds to its cool factor- stuff.  I won't bore you with the details.  Not today, anyway.  I'll save that for another post that you can already plan on skipping now.

My Most Brilliant Parenting Move Yet

Because we have an exceedingly busy weekend ahead of us, I spent a portion of last night stuffing our children's Easter baskets.

Aside from the semi-healthy treats like fruit strips and those vacuum-packed foils of pureed fruit that Caedmon can suck dry in thirty seconds flat, their totes are mostly filled with the requisite hollow plastic eggs.  Each child received a couple balloons, a bouncy ball, and some yogurt-covered raisins in a few of those.

The rest of the eggs are filled with prunes.

Now, before you start shaking your head and feeling sorry for our kids, hear me out.  Prunes have a lot going for them.  They're all kinds of healthy, reasonably sweet, and come in these handy individually-wrapped packages, so that the inside of the eggs don't get all sticky.  Plus you know those kids are going to need something to keep them regular after all that junk they'll get everywhere else.

Convinced yet?  Then let me share the rest of my reasoning behind the prune-stuffed Easter eggs.

It all boils down to the fact that I'm kind of regretting introducing our kiddos to the concept of the Easter bunny.  And no, it's not because I hate rabbits (well, not just because of that).  It's because when you're trying to keep your kids' minds on the real reason for Easter- Jesus- it's really hard to compete with candy and a giant rabbit just scary enough to make him exciting.

Obviously, I should have thought all this through when Adelaide was still very young.  But when you have your first kid, you're not thinking straight.  Holidays get an extra dose of excitement because you can't wait to introduce your brand new kid to all those fun traditions you remember enjoying as a child.

I remember Adelaide's first Easter; my head was full of my favorite Easter dresses and Easter goodies, particularly the basket that contained an actual Barbie doll that I received the Easter we were at Grandma's house.  Why is it the Easter bunny is always so much more generous when you're at Grandma's house?  It's a mystery.

Suddenly, it's five years later, you have not one, but three Easter baskets to fill, and you just can't bring yourself to fill it with things that will make your offspring love a huge garden pest.  So you fill it with prunes.

And if your kid looks at their friends' baskets and starts asking, "Why didn't the Easter bunny bring me all that stuff?  Why doesn't the Easter bunny like me?" your ready-made answer can be something along the lines of, "That Easter bunny is a fickle fellow.  And honey, while the Easter bunny may not like you, Jesus always loves you."

Sounds like a plan guaranteed not to blow up in my face.

Even I, however, felt a modicum of guilt over stuffing my little darlings' buckets with dried plums, so I also stuck a big specially-shaped slab of chocolate in the older two's baskets.  Not in the shape of bunnies, though, oh, no.  Our kids' chocolate is in the shape of an ichthys and reads, "Jesus."

Because what says, "Happy Easter!" better than Jesus chocolate?

Random Easter Photos

I've been noticing something lately.

Our children kind of look alike.  Almost like they're related.

They're also growing up really, really quickly.

And another thing? 

It's nearly impossible to get a picture where all three children are looking at the camera and smiling.

Someone's always scowling.

Or coughing.

Or receiving unsolicited kisses.

What I should have done was taken pictures while they were eating their Easter cake.

  At least then they're guaranteed to sit still.

Sibling Easter

For her first two Easters, Adelaide was the lone child.  She had no siblings to love, smother, irritate, help, or hurt. 



Then this guy came along.

It took him awhile to get used to the camera.

 



It took him even longer to get used to his sister.

I'm starting to think I shouldn't be scolding him for hitting his sister.

Maybe he just has a really long memory.

By the next Easter, he was bigger- better able to defend himself.

Better able to return her affection.

There were still tears.



Adelaide was still entirely unconcerned by his distress.



For the most part, though, they enjoy Easter together.

The Easter Dress

When I was a kid, I loved getting a new Easter dress every spring.

Then I had a daughter of my own.  I discovered the joys of picking out and dressing up my own living, breathing doll. 

Please note that I only do this on Easter.  I am not one of those frightening pageant moms.  And even on Easter, I do not whiten my little girl's teeth, paint make-up on her face, or apply spray-on tanner.

Or parade her in front of scary adults and ask them to judge her.

But I do dress her up in frilly dresses.

At eleven months old, 

this was Adelaide's first Easter.

The next year, my Grandma sent me a Laura Ashley-style dress. 

What was I to do but get a white straw hat and white heeled shoes?

Had I been able to find white gloves, I would have made her wear those, too.

She was almost two.

The following year, she wasn't really interested in posing for picture after picture.

That Easter, she was all about the thrill of the hunt.

The Easter egg hunt.  Almost three here.

And last year, she just seemed so grown up.

Almost four.

Jumping for joy:

"Jesus is Alive!"

Okay, so it was probably more like,

"Candy!"

After going through lots of photographs, I've noticed a certain trend with Adelaide's ensembles.  I seem to really like polka-dotted Easter dresses.  "Well, not this year!"  I thought.  "This year, it's different."

Then I dashed upstairs to confirm her dress is made from floral-print fabric.

Sure enough, there is a floral border along the bottom hem of the dress.

The rest?

Polka-dots.