Anna Brown (Triumphantly holding a bag of Gummy Bears aloft): "Look, Mama, Baby Jesus!"
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Holiday Mashup
Thanksgiving - The naming and unveiling of The Kathryn Grace Brown Fishing Pier, The Anna Ellis Brown Gazebo, The Timothy Eden Grant Sports Court and The James Vincent Cross Patio. We missed our anchors, but how could we be more thankful? Our cup overfloweth. Frequently all over our outfits, but still.
Christmas - Katie put a "Unicorn Pillow Pet" on her list in October. Mom tuned into the fact that it was not a passing whimsey in December. Once they were sold out. And selling on Amazon for ten times retail. Even Santa couldn't find the "right" kind (with a strap) but Katie was so pleased Christmas morning that she said, "It isn't exactly what I wanted, but I really love it." Seriously, I was so proud of her. We're trying to want what we have in 2010, rather than have what we want. That should follow nicely after Advent's lesson of patience. Often, you could hear through the house, "KATIE, WHAT ARE WE PRACTICING DURING ADVENT?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??"
2010 - A rocky start for Suz and Skip reminded us of the elation of Thanksgiving, the blessings of Mom's transplant and how far she has come. The girls too, have come SO FAR in the last few months. Anna's language is exploding and is loving school two days a week. (On alternate days she pleads to go to "Rob's House" to play with Ms. Ivy and Rob Ashworth.) Katie B. is maturing before our eyes and is applying to Kindergarten.
Because the ups and downs of any one day - or any one hour - don't lend themselves to summation; let's capture today's highlights (at least those that have occured before 9am). It is as good a representative as any.
"Mama, I hungry Goldfish" ~ Anna Brown, 6am
"Mama, Can we make my Indian hat now with the pink turkey feathers and the pipe cleaners and I want one in each color and they are going to be the lines on the hat and then the feathers will be on the top and I need the scissors and tape right now please. Mama, RIGHT NOW PLEASE!" ~Katie Brown, 6:13am
7am - The slow mournful sound of a harmonica played by a two year old is interrupted by the four year old banging her play Fireman's hatchet against every glass surface in the playroom. Dad, after putting Barbie's bathing suit top on (on Barbie, not himself), produces a marvelous hot pink Indian Headdress while Mom showers for the first time in, well, too long.
7:28am - The girls are happily playing in the tub. Katie says "Surf's Up, Barbie!" and Anna is making the ducks swim while singing "QUACK QUACK QUACK!" We sing "I'm in the Lord's Army" and Katie asks patiently for an explanation of artiliery, infantry and cavalry. Curious, I ask Anna if she can remember something I heard her calling out to Diego last night on TV. "Anna, does the Blue Moro butterfly live in the desert or the rainforest?" "Rainforrwest." My children are exceedingly brilliant, I am clean, everyone is fed, the dog has clean water, I went to the grocery store last night... And, "What's that, Katie?"
"There is a little bit of poop in here, but I got it out."
Oh.
"Ooh, Mom, there is a LOT of poop. I think it came out of Anna's tuchus."
7:29am - 8:13am - Tears, scrubbing, 120 degree water, antibacterial soap and bleach. And my warning to Katie, "Haha, let's not talk about this. It is a little yucky so we shouldn't tell people." Today, of course, would be the "interview" portion of the Kindergarten extravangaza. GUARANTEED she is going to talk about poop. GUARANTEED.
Now, since this blog is primarily for my girls, as a memento of our love and their magnificence, I sometimes hesitate to share the days that make me want to tear my hair out. But after watching "The Pregnancy Pact" on Lifetime at Mary Beth's suggestion, I am thinking no one benefits from an illusory image of childrearing. And for God's sake, and yours, find yourself a man who can wrestle a bandeau top over Barbie's ample breasts, engineer pipe cleaner masterpieces and lovingly console his sobbing bride when she is wailing, "I don't want to touch anyone else's poop today."
Because the ups and downs of any one day - or any one hour - don't lend themselves to summation; let's capture today's highlights (at least those that have occured before 9am). It is as good a representative as any.
"Mama, I hungry Goldfish" ~ Anna Brown, 6am
"Mama, Can we make my Indian hat now with the pink turkey feathers and the pipe cleaners and I want one in each color and they are going to be the lines on the hat and then the feathers will be on the top and I need the scissors and tape right now please. Mama, RIGHT NOW PLEASE!" ~Katie Brown, 6:13am
7am - The slow mournful sound of a harmonica played by a two year old is interrupted by the four year old banging her play Fireman's hatchet against every glass surface in the playroom. Dad, after putting Barbie's bathing suit top on (on Barbie, not himself), produces a marvelous hot pink Indian Headdress while Mom showers for the first time in, well, too long.
7:28am - The girls are happily playing in the tub. Katie says "Surf's Up, Barbie!" and Anna is making the ducks swim while singing "QUACK QUACK QUACK!" We sing "I'm in the Lord's Army" and Katie asks patiently for an explanation of artiliery, infantry and cavalry. Curious, I ask Anna if she can remember something I heard her calling out to Diego last night on TV. "Anna, does the Blue Moro butterfly live in the desert or the rainforest?" "Rainforrwest." My children are exceedingly brilliant, I am clean, everyone is fed, the dog has clean water, I went to the grocery store last night... And, "What's that, Katie?"
"There is a little bit of poop in here, but I got it out."
Oh.
"Ooh, Mom, there is a LOT of poop. I think it came out of Anna's tuchus."
7:29am - 8:13am - Tears, scrubbing, 120 degree water, antibacterial soap and bleach. And my warning to Katie, "Haha, let's not talk about this. It is a little yucky so we shouldn't tell people." Today, of course, would be the "interview" portion of the Kindergarten extravangaza. GUARANTEED she is going to talk about poop. GUARANTEED.
Now, since this blog is primarily for my girls, as a memento of our love and their magnificence, I sometimes hesitate to share the days that make me want to tear my hair out. But after watching "The Pregnancy Pact" on Lifetime at Mary Beth's suggestion, I am thinking no one benefits from an illusory image of childrearing. And for God's sake, and yours, find yourself a man who can wrestle a bandeau top over Barbie's ample breasts, engineer pipe cleaner masterpieces and lovingly console his sobbing bride when she is wailing, "I don't want to touch anyone else's poop today."
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