too smart for his own good

Sam was "wide awake" tonight at bedtime, so I left him in his room with some books while I went downstairs to get a few things done. After quite a few conversations with him about what time it was, if it was the middle of the night or not, and how many things I had to do, he asked how many minutes it was until morning.

"Like a thousand," I replied, hoping to discourage him from trying to stay awake any longer.

"That's a lot!" he whined.

"It will go faster if you just go to sleep."

"No, it won't. It's always the same amount."

I guess he's got me on that one.

(My other favorite comment of the night was after I replied to him with a very stern "What?!" when he came down saying "Mommy?" for the umpteeth time - he asked me if that was my "busy voice". I think it was more of my "annoyed my 4-year-old is still awake at 9:20 and would be in his bed if he knows what is good for him voice" but he obviously didn't catch on to the subtle difference in tone.)

I love you this much

Sam used to tell me "I love you SO much!" at bedtime.

Then he escalated it to "I love you SO much I can't even tell you."

Then we hit "I love you thousands and thousands."

And on to "I love you millions and billions and trillions and quadrillions."

Tonight he went on and on and on and on with the quadrillions.

And then he told me "I love Daddy that much too."

I was waiting for him to tell me he loved Sadie that much as well, when I heard the following:

"...and I love Sadie [insert long dramatic pause for time to deeply contemplate how much he loves his sister] 5."

He held up 5 fingers to illustrate his point.

"Because sometimes she messes with my stuff. Or hurts me."

I tried to explain there was a difference between loving someone and liking how they acted. I illustrated with a few moments from our day that I hadn't liked what he had done.

"Remember today when you were in time out? I didn't like what you did, but do you still think I loved you millions and millions?"

"Yes."

"So you can love Sadie millions and millions, but just not like some of the things she does."

He seemed to consider what I was saying. I thought I had gotten my point across.

Until he informed me "Maybe I'll love her more when she's 4. Because then she'll listen more."

What a great idea!

The other day on the way home from the pool we stopped to talk to our neighbor while he was cleaning his garage. He and I got into a discussion on how we both had a tendency to let things get a little out of control mess-wise at our respective houses. We decided that it really shouldn't be that difficult to keep things clean.

He remarked, "How hard is it to just put something away when you are done using it, right? I'm 40 years old and I'm the only one living here. It shouldn't get that bad!"

Though I do have a couple munchkins contributing to the disorder around here, I confessed that my bedroom was a complete mess ever since coming home from Tasmania as I didn't quite get everything unpacked for a good 3 months. I bragged about how I had cleaned it about a month ago and it's actually still clean.

(Then I realized I must really need help if I think having a clean bedroom for 4 weeks is something to brag to your neighbor about.)

The next morning Sam and I were getting some toys out of the cabinet in the family room when he said, "Mom, I think we should try that thing the neighbor does."

Completely at a loss for what in the world he was talking about, I asked him to clarify.

"You know - when we get something out, we should just put it away when we are done!"

Somehow I thought in the last 4 years of his life he might have picked up on that concept just by living with me.

(I mean - really - wasn't he there for the cleaning of the cupboards?)

I must be worse that I thought.

school!

Really? You want us to smile?
Okay. Here you go.
The backpack shot.
A few silly faces while waiting for drop off.
Bye, bye, Mommy!
On their way back out - skipping happily - and exclaiming "MOMMY!" when they saw the van.
Sam with his first-day-of-school-milkshake. (The camera died before I got a shot of Sadie with her smoothie.)

Ready for tomorrow!

Both kids are going to preschool 4 afternoons a week this year.

Same school.

Same time.

Two and a half hours to myself on a regular basis.

What will I do with myself?!

I've been excited about it all summer long.

I love my time with my kids - but there is SO much that has been neglected around here as we spent our days at the pool and the park and playing and playing and playing...

I have been dreaming of cleaning the basement.

And closets. (All of them!)

And my fridge.

(Ok. That's a lie about the fridge. But not the other two.)

Until last night, when I had dreams about taking the kids to school.

Which were not good.

They involved getting lost on a mountain in a snowstorm and a 30-pound version of my infant nephew and Sadie escaping from her classroom, among other things.

So then I considered maybe I wasn't as calm about this dropping-both-of-them-off-at-the-door-and-driving-away thing as I thought I was.

But then we went to the preschool open house this afternoon.

They found their cubbies.

We met their teachers.

And I think it will all be ok.

Waiting for Papa

Sam anxiously awaited Papa's arrival Sunday night. (He's been counting the days ever since we left Papa's house a little over a week ago.)
Look what Papa brought with him - a bag of cookies for each of us from Grandma!

Swamp monster

Sam got his pre-preschool haircut Sunday night.

He wanted to stop at this stage - short on top, a little fringe around the edges.
Thankfully, we talked him into continuing.
While the haircut was happening on the patio, Sadie had the joy of discovering the sandbox had been turned into somewhat of a swamp by our rainfall last week.

Family Fun Day

Sunday was Family Fun Day at "Daddy's Caterpillar." It had all the makings of a perfect day for our children.
Lots of heavy machinery to climb on.


Face (or arm) painting.
Bounce house thingees.
A train ride.

And a spin in Daddy's chair.

And no trip would be complete

without pushups on the front porch....
...and bedtime stories in the basement.

This is what happens when your parents have cooler cell phones than you do

The Kids' Pavillion

We gave Papa a break one day and spent the morning with Grandmommie, Aunt Stacy, Molly, and Lily at a children's museum.

Moo Roo

Another day Papa (remember - lots of time on his hands and enthusiasm for entertaining grandkids and friends) treated us to a tour of the local dairy farm. Despite the fact that it was really, really hot and Sam kept asking when we got to go home, we had a good time.

The dairy has some pet wallabies (whoever thought we would see some again so soon after Tasmania?) and their logo is a wallaby with a cow in its pouch. Here are Sam and Anna (kind of) posing near the wallabies.
We are in the barn here - Sam was not too pleased with the smell - but I just love the looks on their faces. This must have been one moment where Sam was actually listening to the tour.
The milking room.
Look closely at the name of the cow of the month.
I couldn't resist a picture of the spontaneous hand-holding. They're 4, so it's ok. If they are still doing it when they are teenagers, the dads might have a little something to say. (And the moms would be jumping up and down with excitement!)
Sadie was the bravest when it came to getting close to the cows. Unfortunately, this one had a cough and she was caught in the spray.
The littlest calves.


This picture is for my mom. (Her name is Barb. Call her Barbie for fun and see what she does.)

A little milking at the end.
Then an ice cream treat - the bribe that kept Sam going!