No Time

As you may have noticed my blog posts have become much less frequent in the last couple of months. The reason is simple. I am busy. We have a lot going on in our little world from day to day. The thing is, the busier I am, the more I have to blog about. It is difficult to remember everything but I will do my best.

I love listening to Carson talk. He puts so much emphasis in everything he says. For example he never greets me with a simple "Hello". It is always "(Gasp) Hiii mom!" Even if he saw me 5 minutes earlier in some other room. Other Carson-speak: "Ooh..Mom those are bit (big) mountains! We go to the mountains please?" My answer, "No we have to take Rachel to karate." His response, "Please! I promise, please!" Why "I promise" I don't know. He says it anytime he wants something that I say no to. It may have its roots in him watching me try and put the girls in time-out. They used to bargain with "Please mom, I promise I won't do it again!" Also Carson calls ear wax "ear poop". The other day he said "Mom, there's poop in mine ear!" In the car the other day Rachel asked if I like animals and I said I do. Carson said "I hate animals!" Now before you grow to be concerned remember he does not fully understand the word hate. And he loves animals. I said "Carson that isn't very nice." As if to try and justify his hate for animals he said "I don't hate you. And I don't hate Daddy. And I don't hate Lilly." Rachel interjected to find out if he hates her, which he says he doesn't. When I get after him for not doing something I asked him to do he says "mo-om I a-am!" Which he might as well add "duh" to the end of it.

Lilly is officially registered for kindergarten. Mostly I cannot believe it, yet at the same time it seems like she was born ready. At the screening she aced everything except cutting on a squiggly line. I'm not surprised since Rachel is the keeper of scissors at our house. She likes to be in charge and Lilly usually falls in line. Another notable Lilly thing is her rock collection. Wherever she goes Lilly is on the lookout for pretty rocks. Her favorite are the teeny tiny ones that only people 3 feet tall are close enough to the ground to see. She likes to give them to me as gifts. As a result her and I have perpetually gravel-filled pockets.

I thought I had nipped the whole swearing thing in the bud with Lilly, and I guess I had. Rachel blindsided me however when she couldn't figure out how to use the keyboard and said "What the hell?" I have really got to start tuning into what my kids are hearing.

Emilia had her 9 month checkup yesterday. The girl is an eater like you wouldn't believe, but apparently all that food is going straight to her long skinny legs. Emilia is in the first percentile for weight and the 100th percentile for height. That is a first for our kids. Usually we are on the bottom of the chart for both. Other than the constant blood curdling screaming she makes us all endure, she is doing great. The doctor says her heart sounds uninteresting. Fantastic!

I love my kids. Some days I like them more than others. Yesterday I had the stomach flu. The smart thing for a person to do in this situation is to throw a movie on to entertain the kids while she sleeps on the couch. But before I got sick I had already made a plan for the day, and I was determined to stick with it. Emilia had her doctors appointment, and since we are into conserving gas (at $3.75 a gallon, who isn't?), we were going to hit the grocery store right afterwards for some serious grocery shopping. Rachel was feeling green as well, so she was pretty much out of it. Lilly was so distraught by all the attention Rachel was getting for feeling sick that she claimed to be sick too. What came next was a series of over-emotional meltdowns at the slightest provocation on Lilly's part. Does anyone remember how old Carson is? That's right, he is three. Three-year-olds listen great. The first half of the shopping trip I made him sit in the cart much to his serious dismay. After watching him stand on my apples and scream "lemme out!" for the ninth time, I let him walk. Supposedly with the stipulation that he stays close to me. Did I mention that he is three? Oh and remember that doctor's appointment for Emilia? She got shots of course so she was not in the best of moods either. She did fine as long as I was standing right in front of her, but the minute we could not make direct eye contact she started in on the screaming. Probably they were not all that bad, but remember I had the stomach flu. Everything seemed about 10 times harder. I don't like to use this blog to unload, but I think my children should someday be able to look back at some of these posts and recognize the sacrifices I made for them...right?