5-Months-Old, Give Or Take A Day Or Two*

Five months! Where has all the time gone. I know I say that a lot, but really, you are growing up too fast. You are a joy and a blessing. You can make anyone smile, just by looking at them. You brighten our days and fill our home with your special spirit.


*Or a week or two. Whatever. You may notice that the date on the picture is days after you actually turned 5-months-old. If you weren't so kissable, I'd spend more time on my blog and keeping it up-to-date. But since you're so wonderful, I'd rather spend my time with you. You're growning up too fast!

I Can't Make Stuff Like This Up

Yesterday, my son asked me if he would still have to get his immunizations if he were homeschooled. He's FOUR.

And then last night we went out to eat. While we were sitting at our table, Ben told me about something that our son had said earlier that day. Apparently they were watching a show that was all about extreme crashes. After one of the crashes, he turned to Ben and said: "What in the Sam Hill was that guy thinking?" So Ben was telling me this. I laughed, of course. Right at that moment, in a restaurant full of people, our son loudly replied: "Well, at least I didn't say HELL!"

Oh Joyfulness!

Ben decided that he needed a laptop for school.

And I've decided that it should be MINE, ALL MINE, bwahaahaaha!

Ahem,where was I? Oh, yes. The laptop. It rocks. Not only is it a laptop, but a tablet as well. That means that I can write on the screen. Which also means that I can have one hand free to hold my baby or *beat my older kids. You know, whatever the particular moment calls for. I've already drawn a bea-u-tee-ful picture with it. Unfortunately I can't figure out how to save it as a jpeg, so you don't get to see it. I know, sad, huh.
Maybe now I'll be able to get my blog caught up. I know, I know, you can't wait. :P


*OF COURSE I don't actually beat my children. Sheesh.

No More TV For My Sweet Little Boy...

Every night I tell my children stories from the Scriptures. Tonight I told them the story of the widow's mite from the New Testament. When I finished, my 4-year-old son had some questions. "Why didn't other people help her, mom?" and "Why didn't she just go out and get a job?" I answered his questions and he got quiet, obvioulsy not satisfied. I could tell that he really wanted to figure out a way for this poor widow to have what she needed. Suddenly his face lit up. " I KNOW!!! She should just get SMC!!!" "What is SMC?" I said. "You know, mom, that place where you can be your own boss and make your own money!"

The Martyr and The Glut

Today I decided to make some brownies. As I was mixing them, I was telling myself that they were for my children, but really, they're for me. My thoughts of said delicious brownies were interrupted by my son. "Mom, what are you doing?" He said. "I'm making brownies" I replied. "Ohhhh Mooooommmm! You are so niiice! But Mom! You reaaaaaly don't haaave to make us brownies! I know that it's sooooo hard and I reaaaaly don't want you to feel like you haaaave to make us yummy brownies!" Right then, my 2 year old daughter piped up with: "Me want to eat yummy brownies! And me going to eat them aaaaallllll by myself!"

My Children Make Me Laugh

We've decided to buy bunk beds. You see, our 2-year-old is apparently related to the princess from The Princess and the Pea and it is PURE torture for her to be required to sleep in her toddler bed. So we, trying to be proactive, have decided to buy bunk beds because our baby daughter and our 2-year-old will probably always share a bedroom, and we'd probably eventually buy them anyway. So this whole bunk bed business is breaking my son's heart. He can't fathom anything cooler than sleeping in the top bunk. So I, being the kind and loving mother that I am, said that if he was oh so good that maybe, just maybe, he could sleep on the top bunk. So, with all of that background, here is the conversation that I overheard my 4-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter having tonight.

4-y-o: I'm going to sleep in the top bunk!
2-y-o: No you not! No no no!
4-y-o: Yes I am! Mommy said, and Mommy's in charge!
2-y-o: No YOU NOT! It's my yoom and ME in targe! I dit to sleep on the top bunk!
4-y-o: Mooooommmmmm!!!!

But wait, it doesn't end there.

I was working on cleaning up the last of the straggling Christmas decor tonight. I asked my son to throw the gingerbread houses in the outside trash. He picked his up and left the room. A little while later, I noticed that my daughter's gingerbread house was still on the table. I asked him to throw that one in the trash too. This time I happened to be standing in the entryway by the front door. Much to my surprise and shock, my very smart, good, sweet, honest, almost 5-year-old son stood on the threshold of my front door and chucked his sister's gingerbread house right out onto the sidewalk. It fell to pieces among the remains of his own house that had been previously chucked, unbeknownst to me. "What in the HECK are you doing?!?!?!" I asked him, totally shocked. "Have you been out there tonight, Mom? If I go out there, my toes will fall off!" was his reply.

Good Grief. Good freaking GRIEF!

I've Taught Him Well

I was changing my 2-year-olds poopy diaper. My 4-year-old came into the room and said "Man! That really stinks!". I replied (sarcastically, of course) "And I'm SO lucky to be changing it!" My son then said: "You know, Daddy should really be the lucky one. To be changing the diaper I mean."

That he should my son. That he should.