sunnyday dreamin'

Eliza, meet Nutella.

We love Nutella around here. If you've never tried it before, I highly recommend it. Just be aware that it is a highly addictive substance, it comes in a tiny jar, and if you eat too much of it, you'll be as big as a barn in no time.

Eliza had her first encounter with Nutella the other day.

 Eliza, meet Nutella on whole wheat.

Nutella, meet Eliza.

Besides being highly delectable, Nutella also makes a lovely false beard if you want to impersonate your daddy.

I just can't stop taking pictures of Eliza, no matter what she's eating. You'd think I'd be over the whole cute-kid-eating-and-making-a-mess thing, but I'm not. I love me a messy baby eating spaghetti.

And Eliza?  She loves her some Brian Williams. Really. He draws her like a moth to a flame.

I prefer Nutella, personally.

It's deja vu all over again

This was the scene this morning as I gazed out of my (very dirty) living room window.

Haven't we done this before?

Yep. Same scene, November 2007.

The same two guys fixed our water line today. The baby-faced backhoe driver has grown a beard over the past two years, which is reassuring. When you have a man directing heavy equipment that near to your house, you like to know they've made it through puberty.

This time, we had not just one leak, but two. Apparently, we have some sort of strange soil chemistry that caused the brand new copper water line to corrode, pit and leak like a sieve. Lucky us!

The good news about all of this? After it was all over, we had easy access to lots of freshly dug soil to use for our "worm parfait" science experiment.

Hopefully the night crawlers will survive. They're hardy creatures, but you've got to wonder what is in soil that burns holes through metal.  

You'd best back away from the dirt, guys.

My sister, myself

Since my only sister was seven years younger than me, I've always watched Lydia and Abigail's relationship with a sense of curiousity. Sure, I have a brother near my age, but it's not quite the same as having a sibling of the same gender. I never would have dreamed of shooting Legos at him with a crossbow, and he certainly wouldn't play Barbies with me. Now, had I suggested that he shoot my Barbies with Legos from his crossbow, we would have been in business.

Lydia and Abigail, however, are two peas in a pod. Abigail makes sure of that. When Lydia plays soccer...

Abigail joins in, too.

Unfortunately, they were on separate teams this year. Abigail was NOT happy, but then again her idea of playing soccer mainly consists of wrestling with her friends on the team. She got over it.

Lydia loves to read. She can read an entire 150 page book in one sitting.

So guess what? Abigail wants to learn to read, too. She's making great progress, with big sis helping along the way.

Naturally the sisters love to dress alike.

On multiple occasions.

Yep, Abigail tries to imitate Lydia in about every way possible.

And Eliza? She also emulates one of her big sisters. She'll crawl on top of anything and everything.

She'll attack from behind and give sloppy kisses and bear hugs.

And now there's the matter of a certain red monster...

I only hope Abigail will be as patient with this little mimic as Lydia is with her.

Abigail's scrawl decoded, plus Halloween pictures

Abigail's lovely handwriting adorns art projects and pieces of paper throughout our house. This prize example:

is her attempt to phonetically spell "Jesus". Good job Christa and Kim!

Now for Halloween.

Abigail and Lydia were allowed to choose any costume they liked other than anything scary. We don't do scary Halloween around here. (If it were up to me, we wouldn't do Halloween at all, but I'm a party pooper. ) 

Abigail dressed up as Thumbelina, which is her favorite story in the Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales book from Core P 3/4. I can't count how many times I've read that story to her and now she has an outfit to match.

Plus this costume has the whole princess/fairy vibe that Abigail digs.

Lydia, on the other hand, thinks she has outgrown princesses. She's almost 7, you know, which is almost 10. When you're 10, you're practically a teenager and that is grown-up. So she picked a costume that reflects her desire to bend the rules.

Here's Daphne from "Scooby Doo."

"Scooby Doo is merely spooky, Mom. It's not scary."

And last is Eliza. She didn't get a choice and instead had to wear a twice-handed down costume.

"My mom made me dress up like this." Her expression says it all.

It's time to play "Guess that Abigail scrawl"!

Miss Abigail created this lovely piece of artwork yesterday.

Here's a close-up of the title:

Any guesses as to the word Abigail was trying to spell?

Answer in an upcoming blog post.  

A name for Baby 4.0

We need a name for Baby 4.0. No, not his real name. We've had a boy name picked out for at least five years. What we really need is a nickname to call him before he makes his debut this winter, just as we've done with the girls before him.

We didn't know whether Lydia was going to be a boy or girl. I think I got an ultrasonographer on his first day on the job. Either that or he got his diploma from one of those correspondence schools they used to advertise on late night TV. Basically all the ultrasound showed was there appeared to be an alien life form, of unknown gender, living somewhere in my abdominal region. So until Lydia was born, we called her the generic name of "Spud".

But what a cute little Spud she was.

Abigail went by "Spud II" until we found out her gender. We pretty much dropped calling her "Spud II" in favor of "Baby Abigail". This caused a problem since we were trying to keep her name a secret until she was born. One of the grandparents asked Lydia what the baby's name was. Lydia was two at the time and as loquacious then as now, so she spilled the beans.

Good thing she was still cute.

And so would be "Spud II".

Soon after we moved into our current house, I started teasing Lydia and Abigail when I tucked them in.

"Goodnight, Lydia. Goodnight Abigail," I'd say.

 As I turned off their light and shut the door, I'd whisper "Goodnight Sparky."

The kids had no idea WHY I was saying goodnight to someone named Sparky. Sadly, they have been deprived of a classic 1980s Sesame Street skit about a dog named Sparky that pretended to be an alligator after the lights are turned out. After we found out we were expecting Eliza, the name Sparky stuck.

We learned our lesson from the Baby Abigail incident and Eliza went by the name of Sparky until well after she was born. Sparky actually is completely inappropriate as a nickname for Eliza.  "Happy" would have been more fitting for a laid-back kid whose first two words were "hi" and "hug".

So what about the latest little one? I've been calling him Baby 4.0, but that seems a bit... clinical. Or at the least impersonal. No nickname really seems to fit.

I thought about using one of the girls' nicknames for each other for when they "play baby". We've had babies named Peto, Goulash, Burrito, and Bootiole. Lee, however, objects to calling his son "Bootiole".  I'm not sure why.

In some sort of medical inside joke, Lee has been calling Baby 4.0 "Baby Dendrite". The girls call him this as well, though they don't know a dendrite from dandruff.

What do you think? 4.0? Burrito? Dendrite?

Four

She's adventurous.

That would be a sheep's rear end that she's trying to pet.

And this is a lorikeet she's feeding.

She's fun-loving.

She's an all-star in front of the camera.

No one else noticed I was taking a picture, but Abigail has a sixth sense for camera lenses.

She's tolerant of others, even big sisters who try to "help" her blow out her candles.

Our  little Abigail Grace is four years old.

Happy Birthday, Abs!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

When she saw that Lee and I were looking at the headstone Lydia created for Dorothy's grave, Abigail shouted:

"I want to see Dorothy in the gravy!"

Some reasons why it's never dull around here

Sometimes people ask me if I ever get bored staying home with the kids. My answer is an emphatic "NO!". My friends from high school and college who have high-powered careers may not get it, but being a stay-at-home mom is both challenging and delightful. Well, sometimes it doesn't feel very delightful, but those times are fewer than you may expect.

Take for example the recent loss of our goldfish, Dorothy.

The little shrimpy thing took ill and passed on to her reward.

Lydia took it upon herself to handcraft a coffin and plan a funeral, complete with Bible readings and hymns.  

Traumatic, yes. Dull, no. Thankfully our other goldfish, Elmo, is thriving.

Speaking of trauma, who would have thought that watching a hot air ballon deflate would cause a child to have a serious case of the vapors?  

Abigail thought that the deflating balloon was dying and began to howl.

Luckily, Lydia was able to explain to her what was really happening.

And when all three girls get together?  There may be bloodshed, there may be tears, but it is never dull.

Lydia put Eliza in her toy shopping cart and wheeled her all around the basement.

They had a blast.

Watching your children grow and play together is priceless.

Baby 4.0 revealed

I had my ultrasound appointment today.  I'll let the pictures do the talking.

Life is about to change around here!