Charlotte At Almost Five

Charlotte is almost five! Happy due date, five years ago today! Age five! Five forever! I love five! I am about to have another five-year-old (yay)! ... My last five-year-old (sob).

But really. Look at this beautiful young lady. She hardly seems like a baby anymore.

(Hahahahahaaaaaa yeah right *wipes tear* no no, she's obviously still The Baby. Of course.)

Charlotte seems to have already entered into Age Five Delightfulness. She is old enough to be independent and have preferences and chase after what she wants and likes. But she's still young enough to have none ounces of too cool, and lots of innocent curiosity still in her.

Plus, she still says some words wrong. Syrup like cereal: syriup. The bonus room is the bennis room. Eating two pieces of toast is toast-es.When she wants you to leave something where it is (a song on the radio, the PJ's she wants to wear all day, etc) she says stay it on. And actually, stay makes more sense than leave, so I get it.

She is chatty and full of stories, half the time made up and half the time completely earnest retellings of mundane events ("and then he poured the cereal but mixed it with the other cereal can you even believe that???" *cue wild hand motions*) and unlike the other two, who we naively maybe once thought were talkative, Charlotte kind of never. stops. talking.

She has two made-up friends, Apple and Sushi (I don't even know) and when no one else will play with her, she plays with them. I have never seen a child outside of a novel so committed to her imaginary friends. Or so chatty with them. She and Apple and Sushi have an army of small toys like her Daniel Tiger "toysies" figurines, and Calico Critters, and a few Paw Patrol pups, and she creates whole worlds and houses and neighborhoods for them, and will do this for hours.

Also, she has several small purses and bags and even a portable Calico house, but her preferred transportation method for her most precious toys is a pizza breadstick box. She takes it all over the house and even on playdates. (Again, I don't even know.)

She dances and skips around the house, because why walk?

She floats around the pool in her puddle jumper, because why learn to swim? (Sigh.)

She follows Nathan and Anneliese and still can't quiiiite keep up, and "hey guys wait for me!" is still a very big part of her life.

She and Anneliese play together ever better, they are both very into dolls and babies and it has been a bonding thing for them this year. It has taken years for them to seem as close to the same age as they are (less than two years! only one school year apart! it has always seemed a much bigger chasm) but I think we are finally getting there.

She still sucks her thumb (no, I do not care anymore), and she calls it her "strong thumb" because it helps her feel better. I will never argue with that. Girl's got an overbite like whoa, braces are coming, there's no more preventing it, so thumb away, little one.

I feel like Charlotte eats almost nothing, and she is somewhat wee, but she's growing, so... meh? She does like french fries and gummy snacks. And gogurt and pizza. And sandwiches but only if they're cut in certain shapes (because obviously puzzles are delicious but dinosaurs are not). She also apparently loves the arsenal of snacks she keeps sneaking into her room and then doing a terrible job of hiding the evidence from. *mad face*

She sort of fails in her own Sneaky Wheelhouse though, replying when I call upstairs to her with things like, "I don't have my scissors, you don't need to come up here!"

Um.

She loves coloring, and is still really good at fine motor type things for her age. "Can you please print me something" has basically been her motto this year, there aren't enough coloring pages in the world to sate this child.

She loves winter, the only one in our house who grins in the outdoor chill, and bundles into her coat and hat with glee. (The rest of us glare at her properly, I promise.)

She loves being read to, but has shown very little interest in trying to read on her own yet.

She thinks she is good at numbers, and shushes everyone at least once a day to tell us "plus one plus one is two" and wait for people to lavish praise on her for such genius. (The amount of eye rolling from Nathan cannot be overstated.)

She likes to pray, and is the one who leads us in prayer 99% of evenings before dinner. She has a whole medley of blessings she likes to say.

She is off to kindergarten in a month. WHAT.

She is wheezy and sunshiney and makes the best mad faces of anyone I know. She has no modesty. She cries having her hair brushed. She cheats at games and tries to charm her way out of it. She is strong and delicate at the same time. She has gobs of friends and would play with them all every day if she could. She loves people, and new people, and she's never met a stranger. She's a good listener, always ready for a story or a joke. When she's happy to see you, she quite literally jumps up and down in excitement, and it's the best feeling in the world.

She made and makes our family complete.

Happy almost five, Charlotte Booler. You won't stay five forever, but we're sure going to enjoy it while it's here, you delightful little human, you.

Nathan at Almost Nine

Nine years ago today, I woke up eager to read the new last final Harry Potter book, and eager to meet my unborn baby, but hopefully not at the same time. (Was secretly worried my  labor would interrupt my Series Ending Feelings before I could finish.) (It didn't.) (Was also not-so-secretly worried that I wouldn't even know I was in labor, doing that awkward 40-weeks mental dance of "pee or broken water?" because the end of pregnancy is so glamorous.)

I can't believe that was nine years ago.

It no longer feels like yesterday, exactly, but it also feels like... well, not like nine years. And if this is what nine years feels like, then I can't believe I only have nine left. He's halfway out of the house! Which is not a ridiculous mental milestone at all so bite your tongue.

Today* he's a full-on big kid, doing big kid things, like reading Harry Potter himself. (Yes! Novels! He reads them now!) (Sometimes!) (He still would choose a biography or fact book nineteen times out of twenty.)

*Well, today today he is not doing any big kid thing or reading any books, because he's battling down a barf bug as I type this. Having a big kid means that when they're sick, you sit ten feet away at the computer and listen to them dry heave while you write a blog post about them. It's both easier and harder than having a sick baby.

(Oh who am I kidding. It's totally easier.)

He's a good sick kid though. He's rull pukey in general when he's sick, so he's kind of a champ at it by now. If one of the kids has to be barfy, I'm glad it's him. Which is a weird thing to say about him at this milestone juncture, but it's organic to our day, so, there you go.

Besides A+ barfing, which I feel like I should stop talking about now, Nathan is doing really well these days. I was told that eight would be as good as five, and I think maybe it has been. Eight is much less moody than seven, and much more helpful, and much more worldly.

He needs me less than ever, but when he does need me, he needs me bigger. If that makes sense. When we do encounter rough patches, it's not about whining or potty training or grabbing anymore, it's about honesty and sneakiness and work ethic and bullies and the balance between fitting in and being doggedly confident in who you are. Raising tiny humans is no joke, and we are constantly flying by the seat of our pants, especially with Nathan, because the oldest kid is always throwing stuff at you you didn't even know you didn't know, didn't think of to think about. Parenting: not for the faint of heart.

He is still doing great in school, although he's right in that space where from a teacher's perspective he is fiiiiiiine and doing his work well enough, and not causing trouble, that he flies under the radar a bit when he's not doing his best, because it's still good enough. So we have had a lot of conversations about not half-assing his schoolwork, and not rushing to be done, and not practicing only the parts he already knows just because they're more fun to play, etc etc etc. How do you teach an eight-year-old the intrinsic value of hard work, especially in a reward-saturated world? That's not rhetorical, I'm really asking. TELL ME IF YOU KNOW PLEASE FOR REAL.

He has a handful of good kids at school that he buddies around with, and a handful that make me purse my lips, which I assume is about normal and will always be the case. He goes to a super diverse school, so he has friends from all continents and many religions, and is becoming a person who knows how and what to ask people about their heritage, his cultural curiosity unstifled by the fear of being offensive, because he is in relationship with all kinds of kids. I've admired him several times when, for instance, he sees the Asian man playing as a guest violinist from church, and he is happy and friendly to walk up to him and ask him about his instrument, or if his family is from Korea or another place in Asia - and what unfolds is a perfectly natural conversation that isn't about race but also doesn't shy away from it. He takes in stride that some of his Muslim friends pray several times a day during school, or that his Sikh Indian friend wears a turban. He just... casually knows a lot about a variety of things, as we all do about our friends, I suppose, but it's so cool that he lives it and is growing a kind and nuanced language for something we, as a culture, struggle to do, or at least to do well. The kids are all right, as they say. (They give me hope.)

 His favorite school work is science, for sure -- he is curious about the world and nature and animals and astronomy and matter, and loves being able to build some tool or model that will help him test an idea. He also does math extremely well; I kind of can't believe how quickly his little brain can grasp a new concept and be able to apply it. He still likes to read a lot, but mostly for fun; it's not something he seems to want to push himself on. He likes writing stories but prefers... reports. "This is an informational text about x," he tells us on the reg. (It's usually a historical ship, or an animal; yesterday, it was a commodities report about how some virus is affecting coffee beans and the world might be running out of coffee; this is information he thought I would like to know.)

He loves legos, if anything, even more than he has in the past. He is less and less married to the idea of keeping his creations together as they look on the box, and increasingly into making his own designs, or replicating designs he sees in the real world. His need to build things extends beyond legos and now includes a variety of trash, which he raids from the recycling bin, and I am constantly having to gently* urge him to remove the coke can boxes and coffee cans and Gatorade bottles from his room, where they are inevitably taped to each other and to rocks and strings and folded paper, because that's a dinosaur habitat/ ship yard/ new solar system/ airport/ lemur rescue center DUH MOM CAN'T YOU SEE I NEED THAT. (*What, I try.)

Nathan is so independent and helpful at home; he's definitely the chore workhorse of the three kids, and helps his sisters and both Mark and me, so much. He fixes his own breakfast and packs his own lunch (and often helps the girls with both those things) and fancies himself a budding master chef, so he loves to help with dinner too.

He loves his cello and his choir at church, and he loves running. The big kids do a track club every Friday morning before school, and he often gets a couple of miles in, which impresses me. He's also become quite a fast swimmer this summer, which blows my mind a little. Two years ago he couldn't swim at all, and now he's one of the fastest in the pack at his swim meets. He just looks like a swimmer in the water; it's the most athletic thing we have ever seen him do, and it's fun to see him grow in confidence with it.

He's still one of the smallest in his grade, less skin and bones now that he is getting stronger, but still just... short. We've been saying for over a year now that he's due a growth spurt at any moment, but it keeps not coming. So.... yeah? Any day now? I guess? Or maybe never.

He loves minecraft. He films himself talking to the camera for his "youtube channel, please subscribe!" (which is locked to everyone but him, but he can dream of his internet superstardom if he wants). He sends lovely heart-feelings texts and emails. He has a teenager voice he uses to talk on the phone. Has spent the year obsessed with Pokemon, so the current GO trend is blowing his mind and providing some good Daddy-kid bonding time to be out exploring. He plays fine alone but still clings to attention from Anneliese, which often wanes these days, because of Charlotte's equal demand and more interesting (to her) playtime ideas. He is bossy and firm and kind and generous. He remains sensitive, and is easily hurt and offended. He saves his silly side for people he really trusts. He is ever more self-assured, and no longer scared of real conversation with new people, even adults. He is polite and witty and full of fun! facts! and loves studying the giant world atlas that hangs over his bed.

He is a wonderful person, and now I need to go wipe his face with a washcloth and scratch his sicky back and offer him some ice chips. (He's patient zero. Pray for us.)

We love you, sweet Nathan. Happy due date, you excellent human, you.

Gap-Toothed Grin

Nathan has been missing his two front teeth since the first weekend in September. He hasn't lost any teeth since one in May of 2014, and one in December 2013, so he was way overdue and very excited. (He is eight. I swear that child has never hit any milestone early in his life.)

So he lost the first one when we were at Brad's house a month ago, in an ice cream cone. (That gives you an idea of how crazy loose it had gotten but was still hanging on by a thread: it fell out when he licked a freaking ice cream cone.) That night, the tooth fairy brought him a stack of quarters in a red solo cup (stay classy, Bumgarners) but despite some hinting about doubling the prize if you lose two in one day, he wouldn't let us touch the other one.

A few days after we got home, after much coaxing, I full-on bribed him with a new lego set to let me pull the other one out. It was just dangling. He couldn't eat well, he was scared to bite anything or even say much of anything, it was barely hanging on by one bloody little veiny thread, and, well... y'all, loose teeth are gross. I couldn't take it anymore.

It was a bribe well spent. I came at him with a kleenex and that tooth basically lept at me! with joy! like John the Baptist in the womb. Easiest tooth pull ever. So now he has spendy legos and a new grin.

And I shall commence taking allllll the pictures.

Summer Basket List

Summer is over. Well, not really, there is still a month of summer weather left, but summer break is over, and school starts this week, and so we have crossed off as many of the remaining bucket list items as we can. I needed this summer to be something redemptive after last year, which was a sh!t show of emotions and baby soothing and feeling like I was failing everyone around me, and then feeling resentful about the failing, and yeah. This year was better.

I had a page in my notebook where I jotted down ideas the kids named as things they wanted to do this summer (a few times, someone got ahold of a pen and added ideas himself), and we got to almost all of them.

We also renamed it The Basket List because at the beginning of the summer Anneliese could never remember what it was called, so she kept saying that, and it stuck for the rest of us even though she rolls her eyes and refuses to partake of the cutesy rename herself. HER LOSS. CUTESY IS FUN, YO.

And truthfully we didn't even look much at the list because we were busy just hanging out and having fun. Montreat was a freaking delight. Our family road trip was more fun than I ever could have dreamed. And lots of little fun things in between the travels too:

1.) Ride on a ferry. This list was born in April when Nathan, indignant that I would go to Seattle and ride on a ferry without him, made a page in my notebook and put FERRY as the first thing on it. We... didn't actually get to this. But we have Outer Banks camping plans next month, and we will ferry to Okracoke and then Hatteras. The ferry will happen! I promise, buddy!

2.) Visit Northfield. Check and check. 'Twas delightful. Here are all the kids at St. Olaf:

Oh Charlotte. I don't even know, y'all. She just doesn't stop.

Road trip blogs still to come. (They are all half written and still need pics and there's a lot to sort through so eh.)

3.) Crayon A. This is a craft I have been intending to do for years with Anneliese and we finally did it, and it turned out great, and she loves it, and I love it.

NAILED IT. Suck it, Pinterest, I own you.

4.) Go camping. Not yet - this will be with the ferry ride next month.

5.) Eat purple carrots. Okay so Anneliese asked for this for weeks, and I wrote it down for her, even though you can't get any carrots at the farmer's market, much less purple ones, until fall. So this is still to come also. We did, however, make several stews with parsnips, and Anneliese has a new favorite vegetable. (She is an odd child.)

6.) Strawberries. There were no carrots, but there were strawberries, and Anneliese used them to bake her very first dessert for all of us. Bisquick shortcakes, and warm strawberries, and cream she whipped herself, and oh she was so proud.

7.) Cinderella movie. Anneliese saw this with Grandma. That counts, right? (I still haven't seen it.) (I am totally interested, but secretly more for the Frozen short than for the movie itself. Don't judge me.)

8.) Rise Biscuits and Donuts. This is a place in Durham with apparently really great breakfast treats. We never made it there, but I am counting our Duck Donut outing as a check mark on the list for new treat places.

9.) Learn ponytails. Anneliese did it! This is a life skill, I mean really.


(If you can't see the embedded video, click here to watch it on YouTube.)

10.) Learn shoe tying. Yeah, no. This did not happen.

11.) Watch Jurassic Park (not with the girls). Yes finally, Nathan, of years-long dinosaur obsession, has seen the original Jurassic Park movie. It totally scared him. But I think he thinks it was worth it. (It still is delightfully scary to me too.) We have listened to the soundtrack a thousand times this summer since then. Currently the girls' favorite song to dance to. We are That Family, apparently.

12.) Tropical Pick'n Chicken. It's a new (to us) local chain restaurant near our house, with Caribbean food and such. Nathan is enamored with it. It's just okay for me. But! We went! Summer dreams coming true over here y'all!

13.) Build legos. Um, duh. Done and done.

14.) Sleepovers. Yes, Nathan and Anneliese, every Friday, all summer (all year actually, but the summer was no exception). These two are best buddies, and never moreso than on Friday nights. We don't understand how they spend all day every day together and still have things to talk about into the wee hours. They say more to each other than they ever do to any of the rest of us.

15.) Baking contest. This got added to the list in summer's eleventh hour, and we still did it!

16.) Read lots of books. CHECK. We have been very library busy. And library days are the best days, aren't they? Let's not forget the afternoon I found the kids all outside reading their library books sprawled on the sidewalk WITH THEIR BEDDING, why children, why?

Days 4-5: Illinois, Iowa, Prairie Park, All The Corn (We Broke Into a Zoo)

(Still backdated.)

Night 4: In a Caboose, On a Prairie Farm, the Middle of Nowhere, Illinois

We crossed the Mississippi back into Illinois and drove away from St Louis, going north into the middle of nowhere. (The town is Hanna City, but trust me, it's in the middle of nowhere. Google maps calls it a village, which would cause me to type the laugh-cry emoji if such a thing existed on this non-mobile PC qwerty keyboard.)

So in Hanna City, well not in but near Hanna City, there is this prairie park that Natalie told me about, and while I had never even heard of a prairie park and didn't fully understand what it was, apparently they had cabooses you could rent for the night, so I rented one and we drove there. Because my kids like cabooses and I like adventures.

So it turns out it's something of a cross between a state park, and a campground, and a zoo, but really it's all three of those things put together. It was totally fun!

We checked in to our caboose, which was like renting a cabin or something for the night. Very basic, not fancy, but my lower bunk was super comfy and the kids were effing delighted.

And then we went and explored the park. There were a few playgrounds, one of which had a giant slide down the side of a hill.

The map showed us there was some sort of zoo, which we assumed, once they locked us in the park all night, we could go walk through any time. But it turns out it was closed for the night, but, I mean, look at that gate. It's totally jumpable.

So we broke into a zoo.

Why, what do you do on your family vacations?

(Stop clutching your pearls, we only wanted to walk through it and see the animals, we weren't going to hurt anything or get into any trouble. Our kids were fairly scandalized though. Convinced the police were going to come take us to jail. SUCH RULE FOLLOWERS. They totally get that from Mark.)

When we got to the back end of the loop around the zoo, we saw some other people - someone who must take care of the animals at the petting zoo. We just blatantly played on a swingset nearby and they didn't say boo to us. What's that thing about how if you act like you're supposed to be somewhere, you will get away with it? Yeah, that.

Basically though, halfway through our walk, we got a little creeped out. A zoo, after hours, with no handlers around, even though the animals were all in cages (although Mark was not reassured by some of the "enclosures" which were wide open on top for, like, mountain lions), totally spooked us. We felt like we were in Jurassic Park by the end. That eerie feeling that some sh!t is about to go down.

(We are all rule followers at heart, is what I'm saying, even me.)

We're scared in a zoo after hours and I don't
think our tour guide can even read that map

Anyway it was a delightful night in a caboose, and if you ever find yourself in the middle of nowhere, Illinois, you should absolutely go spend the night there. It's a beautiful part of the country.


Day 5: Iowa

The next morning we kept driving north and then crossed the Mississippi (again) into Iowa.

I should stop here and say two things:

1- is your midwestern geography as bad as mine? When I first learned where all these states were, in relation to each other, I was like wuuuuut. Is this how other people feel about the deep south? Or New England? Anyway.

2- There is so much corn in America, y'all. At this point we had been driving through corn for two straight days, and there was no end in sight, and when we got on back roads in Iowa it was just corn and corn and corn and corn. I thought I was ready for it after my trip last summer, but what you can see and wrap your brain around from major interstates is NOTHING compared to the miles and miles and miles of nothing but corn that exists when you get deep into those counties. How are we using so much corn? How?? HOW. I mean yes, I know it's in everything, but. But. It's so much. Nothing I write here can describe it. It's hard for me to remember anymore how many other things we grow in America, because you can drive for two days (and even more!) and see nothing. but. corn.

Okay so after miles and miles of corn, we arrived at the Field of Dreams movie site for a picnic lunch! This was a totally delightful stop worth going a bit off the beaten path for. It was pretty, and easy, and oh man what a beautiful day.

Mark and the kids threw the ball around (yes we remembered gloves, of course we remembered gloves, my secret superpower is maybe packing lists), and ran the bases, and crept in and out of the cornfield like creepy creepsters pretending to be creepy historical baseball ghosts, Anneliese had a minor breakdown (the first Incident of the trip!) but lunch turned it around.

Speaking of packing, our intelligently-packed cooler was such a great move for this trip. It made meals cheap and easy and ready whenever we were. I am very pleased with myself for that level of planning, I have to say.

(Self-five!) (Are you picturing Tina Fey right now? Good job.)

I should do a You Know What You Should Do type blog post about my pro tips for road trip packing, but. Another day.

The Christmas When I Forgot Pants

Well, we had ourselves a merry little Christmas. We did the traveling portion of the celebrations before Christmas this year instead of after, which is different for us -- it made the shopping and prep part feel a little rushed, but once we got out of town and got back, we were kind of glad to be home and settled and relax here, just our little family. It felt like far less frenzy than it does some years.

I managed to get all the way to Huntersville, for four family celebrations within three days, and I packed no pants. Zero. NONES PANTS. I wore leggings and a tunic to church on Sunday, and went straight from there out of town. I had packed a bunch of shirts and sweaters but no pants to go with them, and no other tunics or long tops, and no room in our schedule of gatherings to run to Target, so! I wore that tunic and leggings for daaaaaysssss and the good news is I didn't even burn it afterwards.

Anyway. Pictures of Christmas. My outfit on repeat x1000 is barely pictured. Because I can't stand the sight of it. Because obviously.

Reading on his new Kindle, wearing airplane
slippers and reindeer antlers... #doingitright

Anneliese had been asking for colored streaks in her hair for months,
and then Santa put hair chalks in her stocking! She was... excited.

It might be Christmas if your parents let you ride a scooter in the house.

Charlotte also got a new baby doll (she named it Claire, her middle name)
and an Elsa nightgown which we passed off as a dress-up dress. We are smart. 

That awkward moment when you're trying to pretend-
straighten your hair and your dad keeps photo-bombing you.

Giant wall atlas!
Hey Nathan, your Bumgarner is showing.

These magnatiles we gave Nathan were a hit with *all* the kids. RECOMMEND.

Taking pretend selfies with Daddy. Ahhh child of the new millenium.

All the kids/spouses/grandkids were able to make it to Dad's this year! Whoa!

Anneliese and Grandma

Decorating cookies at Ashley's house with my mom.
I'm not saying my decorating was the best, but... it kinda was.

And then I came home and put on jeans and it was awesome, the end.

Daddydorable

Things about Mark as a dad that I am finding pretty super these days:

1.) He is one of Nathan's team's tee-ball coaches, and when I watch him out there with all those kids, I can't believe that the sweet quiet sixteen-year-old I used to kiss in the bus parking lot has now turned into a funny lively encouraging dad, chasing after rogue throws, and high fiving kids when they remember to run all the way to each base. MELT.

2.) He built a bedsheet fort for the big kids for one of their Friday sleepovers, which have apparently just been leveled up.

3.) He brought home one of those little plastic pools, which are not my favorite, but it's fine because they love it, although I can't understand why they're so taken with it, considering we have an ACTUAL POOL.

4.) He will never be able to do a proper ponytail, which is the most Steretypical Dad problem ever, which amuses me because normally he doesn't stumble on Stereotypical Dad things. But! He makes ponytails anyway!

5.) He patiently (painstakingly) did this ship puzzle with Nathan when we got home from our cruise a few weeks ago. Turns out some presents that say 5 and up should totally say, like 30 and up.

And yes, it totally looks like a cruise ship now that they're done. Impressive, right?

Also, if you had been wondering what the top of a six-year-old boy's dresser looks like these days, well there you go. (Yes, that's a glow-in-the-dark pteranodon* stuck to the wall.) (*Or something else, I don't know. Putting this disclaimer here in case Nathan ever reads this and it turns out it's totally not a pteranodon, duh mom.)

5.) Marky also does things like take the kids to the playground so I can have the house to myself, and plays stomp rocket with them for hours...

...then comes home and suggests we find a sitter and go on a date. To a trendy restaurant where we get to sit on couches next to a pool while we eat dinner. So fun. (Yes, I wore a ponytail on a date. Don't judge me. As a rule I don't wash my hair on Saturdays.)

And I love him and he is a great dad and he makes me smile, and I don't know how often I say that, but I should more. Not because I am "lucky" to have a husband who thinks parenting is normal and does it well (all dads should! it should not be a special case for special praise when they do! Mark is the first one to agree with me on that!), although I don't take it for granted, either -- but because I love him and sometimes I get so hung up on thinking/talking/writing about my own mommying that I am glad to sit down and say hey, he makes daddying look awesomely fun, too.

Happy, Churchyard Edition

Our parenting transition back to real life after the cruise was... whoa. (Is it just me, or does time away make it hard to tell if the kids were always like This, or if This is normal, or if our tolerance for This has just changed, or if we needed some space to see that x and y and z parts of This are actually unacceptable? I don't know. I don't know!) (And Nathan has just been flat-out troubling. Respecting his privacy here, by request, by not detailing it -- but it has been complicated and hard in the way that raising children to be good polite decent humans is often complicated and hard.)

ANYWAY.

In the midst of both being overwhelmed by my children and drinking in their sweet presence that I had missed so much, we found ourselves rolling around in the grass outside church after youth choir. And they were playful and sweet and fun.

And it was exactly what I needed.

Toysies

So in the world according to Charlotte, why would you want to have one big soft lovey when you can form an emotional attachment to five tiny hard plastic toys? That makes total sense, right?

These are her toysies: 

A set of little figurines from the show Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, a Christmas present from Another Nathan, her toysies. I don't know why she calls them that, but now that's what they are.

She wakes up talking about them, she falls asleep talking to them, they hardly leave her side all day. She carries them around clumsily in her arms and hands, or in her little cloth purse, or in any of the various buckets we have lying around, you know from happy meals and such (and such = plastic pumpkins from halloween).

She lines them up on the kitchen table, on windowsills, on stairs. She sleeps with them on her pillow. (Once, I caught her sleeping on the floor while her toysies laid carefully tucked under a blanket on her bed.)

She holds them in her lap while she watches Daniel (the show), and plucks them up as each character comes on the screen. It is more adorable than you can imagine.

She seems to think they are the perfect toys for pushing around in her doll stroller, or in her grocery cart, and there is no convincing her (but why would I want to anyway?) otherwise.

She talks about them near-constantly. (We hear just as much about the toysies as we do dinosaurs, if that gives you any perspective.) She says all their names, she tells us what colors they are wearing (incorrectly, every time), she runs into rooms to announce which ones she is holding in any given moment. Or, more likely, which one she is in a panic because she can't find. (THERE. ARE. FIVE. My child is latched onto FIVE! tiny objects we are constantly trying not to lose track of.)

After a scare with Hattie a few weeks ago when we couldn't find her all night (she was sitting safely on top of the wastebasket in the bathroom, where she had watched Anneliese poop the day before, because of course), I am now thinking we should get some backup toysies, stat. (Especially Katerina. That little minx is a hider.)

So, yeah. Meet the toysies. They are here to stay.

Rainbow Power! (?)

Anneliese and Nathan, at the bus stop, booming "rainbow power" at any car that drives by:

(It mostly means... point with rainbow-mittened fingers at passing cars, then wave and yell? I think? As best I can tell?)

Neither of them seem to be able to explain what The Power does or where it comes from, it's just one of those nonsense games that has turned into an everyday activity. It is now an assumed fact that Anneliese has rainbow power and that it should be shared with the masses, and that Nathan is well qualified (but! not! mommy!) to be her sentry and assistant, staying on the lookout for cars coming in need of rainbow cheer.

So.

This is what my day looks like, every day, at 8:20am. Good morning!

Snowme Day!

It snowed in Raleigh!

Like, for real snowed.

It is our first real snow in about four years, which means Nathan and Anneliese (last time, two and an infant) didn't really remember it, and this was Charlotte's very first. She spent the whole day saying snowme day! wook! I found it! in a very classic-Charlotte way. I found it! might be her trademark phrase. (Snowme day is her pronunciation of "snowflake day," which is an episode of Daniel Tiger, and is apparently not only her word for snowflake, but also snowman and snow day and well, just snow in general.) (Is adorable.)

Normally snow isn't my favorite, but with school canceled and Mark just happening to be off work, we didn't need to go anywhere. So it ended up being really fun and sweet.

I will stop teasing my mom for buying us snowpants now.

They didn't know what to make of it. so they ran in circles. all four of them.

Three snowy babies in a sled!

And then they took turns doing this while Mark and I melted.

This is also basically all he does... at the beach. 

Also, we built our kids' first snowman! (Alltogethernow: "do you want to build a snowmaaaaan?") (If you're not singing, you're doing it wrong.) Like everyone else in America, we named our snowman Olaf. He is tiny. 

Presenting... Olaf Goettsch. He is a tiny snowman. 

For perspective, here is Olaf with the kids. See? Tiny.

Snow makes things too bright to smile pretty.

Unless you're Anneliese. In which case there are no objects to pretty smiles.

Look! We are southerners with pictures of our kids in the snow! Is it too soon to order next year's Christmas cards?

Happy snowme day!