It's the Last Day of First Grade...

...and my baby girl seems so much more grown up than the first day of first grade.

On the first day of first grade

-She was still shy and anxious about going to school every day
-She was just starting to read
-She could do a little math
-She was worried because not all of her friends were in her class
-She still seemed like my baby

On the last day of first grade

-She loves school and is sad today is the last day
-She reads chapter books
-Her teacher calls her a "math wizard"
-She loved having her best friend in her class and made more friendships
-She seems like such a big girl to me

A lot changes over the course of the school year. She grew some inches. She finally fits into six 6 clothes. She has amazing ideas and wondrous questions. We read every night, and I am constantly amazed how well her reading continues to improve. She asks to do math when she doesn't have homework from school. She writes stories. She is this amazing, loving, fun, silly BIG KID.

I don't know when that happened, exactly.

One of Those Days

Today was one of THOSE days. You know the ones. You wake up, hopeful it will be a good day. Heck, tomorrow is Friday! That's a step in the right direction already, right? You wake up hopeful but the day goes downhill anyway.

Today was one of those days where my older two fought nonstop. I'm pretty sure they were fighting over who was breathing more at one point.

Today was one of those days where my baby was in a mood. Nothing made him happy. He asked for milk; he cried because I gave him milk. He asked for waffles; he cried because I gave him waffles. He asked for yogurt; he cried because I have him yogurt. Today, he took a morning nap without a complaint (first time this year).

Today was one of those days where my older two were fighting so loudly that they woke their brother up from his afternoon nap. His afternoon attitude made his morning attitude seem peaceful.

Today was one of those days where my baby took poop out of his diaper and threw it on the floor...where his five year old brother smoothed it into the carpet. Why, you might ask? "Poop is funny, mommy."

Today was one of those days where I felt like I got nothing done. Child refereeing, dishes, lunches, snacks, homework, naps, snacks, breaking up fights.

Today was one of those days when my seven year old worked on her homework while I worked on mine. Two girls, sitting at their desks, working on homework.

Today was one of those days when I got to read more of The Borrowers to my daughter. It's rapidly becoming one of her favorite books.

Today was one of those days when my five year old snuggled with me and fell asleep on the couch. Curled up, he still fits under his favorite baby blanket.

Today was one of those days when I got the best good night hugs and kisses.

Today was one of those days. I failed and succeeded. There was yelling and tears and love and hugs.

Today was one of those days

Dear Winter...

Dear Winter,

It's not me, it's you. It's time we parted ways. The sun is out more, the snow is melting (not that I enjoy the icy, mushy mess) so let's have no more storms, no more snow days. Let the snow melt, the grass turn green, and the flowers bloom.

Here are some reasons that I feel we need to see other people:

1. SNOW DAYS (I don't even need to say more)

2. My four year old refuses to go out in the snow to play so he has been a whiny mess with cabin fever

3. The wind is causing my baby to have bad eczema flare ups on his beautiful face

4. I miss my flip flops

5. I need sun

6. I'm tired of my kitchen floor being wet

Need I say more? I am pretty sure that is enough.

Please go back to wherever it is you hide until November or December. I might be happy to see you when the first snow falls. We'll see how much my memory has faded.

Sincerely,

A mommy tired of winter

Here's to the husbands that support our Luke Bryan addictions

My husband gets a gold star for today. While I was hurrying through the grocery store aisles in order to get our daughter to school on time after her two hour snow delay, he was sitting in the parking lot almost absconding with a huge Luke Bryan cutout.

His story goes like this: there he was, sitting in the can, when this guy comes out of the store carrying a carboard cutout of Luke Bryan from a SuperBowl ad. As he was about to ask the guy if he could free him of this burden he was carrying across the slushy parking lot, the guy gave him this story: this guy had seen the cutout before the SuperBowl. Having asked for it after the SuperBowl, he had come back to find someone had not gotten the memo had taken it down and destroyed it. However, the store manager had taken the guy's number, called the beer distributor, got another one, and called the guy to come give it to his wife, for Valentine's Day. Jeff said he didn't feel right stealing it from him.

So here is to my husband, who almost stole a Luke Bryan cutout, and to Mr Stranger, who is going to make his wife very happy this weekend. Bravo, gentlemen, bravo.

Reasons my 14 month old cried today

- I picked him up when he wanted up

- I put him down when he tried to get down

- I handed him a toy

- I didn't hold his milk for him while he drank

- I only gave him ONE handful of cheerios

- I wouldn't let him drink out of my water cup (I'm sick)

- I gave him his own straw cup

- I cleaned his bum

- His brother tried to rip off his toenail (don't ask)

- I picked him up again

- I closed the baby gate

- I smiled at him

- I walked into the other room

- I stopped watching him close the play kitchen refrigerator door

- The dog licked him

- It's time to brush teeth

It's a rough life for my little man ;)

4 Years Ago

4 years ago this little snuggler was brought into our lives

And now he has turned into this smart, funny, sweet, amazing little man

He loves Thomas, Cars, Planes, coloring, annoying his sister, snuggling, reading, playing outside and telling knock knock jokes that make no sense to anyone but him. He is the quintessential middle child. He lights up our hearts and there is a never a dull moment when he is around.

Happy 4th birthday to my little dude. We love you, RyRy

Mornings with Three

Mornings at our house are chaotic and loud. The baby wants his milk, the other two are demanding their morning meals. I want cereal. I want a waffle. I want an English muffin. I need milk. You didn't give me juice. He got more than me. And then the baby adds in his two cents' worth by screeching for me at the top of his lungs because I have stepped five feet from him to finish getting food for his siblings.

All through this there is getting Isabella's lunch ready. Do your kids have a packed lunch or do they buy lunch? I like packing her lunch because then I know exactly what she is eating. I could pack it the night before, if the child in question would pick what she wants. But the problem with that is she changes her mind by morning and then it is a major meltdown. So, morning lunch making it is. Do you want turkey? Ham? Peanut butter and jelly? Soup? PICK SOMETHING! And then it is like pulling teeth to get her to choose the little things that go in her lunch. Yogurt, apple sauce, tomatoes, apples, cheese sticks, crackers, chips. Child, you are killing me, smalls!

And we have the background soundtrack of the unhappy 14 month old that is not being held by mommy at the moment. And the three year old that is asking for more food (apparently, an English muffin, yogurt, half a banana, a cereal bar, and a cup of milk is not enough --- and later he will eat half of my eggs).

Getting dressed is another whole ordeal. She has to look beautiful every day. Skirts, dresses, leggings, cute sweatshirt. She is such a girly girl. Her jeans have to have sparkles. Her Punky Brewster outfit of striped tshirt, plaid skirt, teal leggings and purple sweatshirt always cracks me up, though. Her outrageous outfit choices remind me that she is her own person, with her own likes and ideas and taste in fashion.

Thankfully Daddy takes her to school most days. Which leaves me with a pissed off three year old that Daddy wouldn't let him come today (because, gasp!, Daddy has to talk to Sissy's teacher). Cue temper tantrum on the floor while I am trying to get the baby down.

Speaking of said baby. After snuggling and rocking for ten minutes, quiet snores tell me he is asleep. I wait five minutes more and then put him down. I tiptoe out the door, quietly ease the door shut. take one step down the stairs...cue the angry baby screaming. Mommy, you had the audacity to leave me here in my crib, all snuggly warm with my blankey, so you could eat BREAKFAST! There is no breakfast for you!

After finally getting to my breakfast, the three year old eats half of it. God help my grocery bills during the teenage years.

It's not even 10 am and this mommy needs a nap. Except for that pesky laundry, dishes, and homework that needs to be done.

Leave me a comment about your crazy mornings!