Little Hugs

Nora is our resident comedienne.  I really believe she seeks to do and say things that will make us laugh.  And she's pretty good at it!  I am not naturally funny, and it's pretty difficult to make me laugh -- but Nora succeeds often.  She does and says some pretty ridiculous things.

Back around Christmastime, we watched Frosty the Snowman a few times.  When the children are naming Frosty, one of the suggestions is "Oatmeal".  Well, somehow Nora really remembered that and now, out of the blue, she'll say "Oatmeal" in this high-pitched, precious voice.  She literally cannot say that word without trying to be silly with it; just last night she requested oatmeal for breakfast, just so she could say her funny little word.  She'll even occasionally do it on command for Pops. Over four months later, it just keeps getting funnier.

Nora also loves to take notice of Mommy's hair.  If my hair is in a ponytail (which is pretty often, since we walk daily and, well, I do have three small children...) Nora will look at me with her concerned little eyes and say, "Mommy, why is your hair not pretty?"  Every time.  Although I've tried to explain that a ponytail doesn't necessarily mean icky hair, she's pretty spot on.  But the precious reward is that, if she notices that my hair is down (even if it isn't exactly pretty!), she'll say, "Oh, Mommy!  Your hair is so pretty!"  And I pretty much want to eat her when she says that.

When we tuck our little Nora in at night, she's also come to request different-sized hugs.  There are little hugs (where we barely touch her little arms) and big hugs (which are the biggest hugs we can give that tiny little body).  She wants one of each, and she often isn't content to be tucked in until that request has been filled.  I secretly crack up every time I give her a little hug.  We often try to make the little hug as little as possible.  She thinks this is a grand arrangement, and it keeps us lingering at her bed just a little longer.

I am so thankful that God saw fit to give us such a funny little person.  Nora is a delight, and she is an expert at making us all laugh. 

Ruthie is Thirteen Months Old

This past month, it seemed like Ruthie changed drastically!  She's starting to communicate more, play more games, and is just generally even more fun.  Ruthie is a delight to all of us, and I feel like she has such a rich, delightful little life.  Oh, to be as adored as our Roo is!

At thirteen months, Ruthie is...

• still sleeping really well.  With few exceptions, she sleeps for about twelve hours at night.  She is also still taking two naps, with a shorter (45 minute) morning nap and a longer (2 hour) afternoon nap.  I thought it would be wise to try and skip her morning nap the other day, and that proved to be a really poor decision.  This sweet little needs her sleep!
• pretty much off the bottles, and completely off formula.  Ruthie has decided she will tolerate milk, although she's pretty finicky about it.  Thankfully, she is my third-born and I am incapable of obsessing over this.  She occasionally will take a bottle at bedtime, but she appears to be way more indifferent about the bottle than I am.  She prefers to drink water out of a cup.
• still holding strong with three teeth.  There may be a fourth in there, but woe to the Mommy who sticks her finger in that mouth.
• sure that she can do anything her big sisters can do.  Roo loves to run, climb, and keep up with her siblings.  She can make it to the top of the "stairs" at Chick-fil-A, and I've found her sitting on top of the picnic table on more than one occasion. 
• talking some, although most of it is unidentifiable.  I've heard "all done", "Dada", "banana", and probably some other sweet little words on occasion.  She definitely is making more attempts to communicate.  Mousie and her pacifier are both "nay-nay", and she will shake her head "no" to indicate that she does not want something.
• now really into books.  She'll bring us the book she wants to read, and she'll usually read a few at a sitting.  She loves to kiss puppies in books, and her favorites are still the ones with "real" pictures.  
• delighted to play in the dirt.  Tasting adds to the experience.
• always in the middle of the action. 
• literally crashing when she begins to crash in the late afternoon.  Especially if her naps have been off, Ruthie will quite literally run herself into the dishwasher or washing machine in a frustrated little tizzy.  Bless her little heart.
• delighted to carry things in bowls or bags.  One of her favorite kitchen toys is a colander and some play food, and if one of her sisters will relinquish a purse, Roo will carry it with pride.
• also delighted to wake her sisters up.  She LOVES going to get her sisters up from naps, and has been known to crash through the door unassisted if she thinks Mommy is waiting too long to wake them up.

We do love our happy little Mouse!  Happy Thirteen Months, Roo!

Tenderness

We've had a rocky week.  I'm not at liberty to go into details here, but would you pray for our family? 

Last night, we were coming in late from community group.  It was nearly nine, and Michael and I were anxious to tuck the girls into bed so that we could tuck our weary selves in as well.  We rushed through our bedtime routine with the Bigs, only to remember that Lamby was a little wet -- I think from Ruthie's sippy losing its valve.  We pretty much told Phoebe that she was going to have to deal with it; Lamby wasn't wet enough to warrant a trip to the dryer, and we didn't want to wait on Lamby for the rest of us to get to go to sleep.  Phoebe wasn't thrilled with this arrangement. 

So Michael tenderly took Lamby and swaddled her in a lightweight blanket so that Lamby would no longer feel wet to his little girl.  As he gingerly placed Lamby in Phoebe's arms, I wanted to weep.  This is a Daddy who loves his little girls deeply.  And watching this tenderness, I was reminded that my Heavenly Father loves us so much more than we can even imagine.  He is infinitely more tender, infinitely more loving, and infinitely more good.  I am so thankful that we can call the God of the vast universe our Abba - "Daddy".

To the Zoo!

I'm not exactly a zoo person.  I mean, zoos are sort of smelly.  And hot.  And honestly, the thought of loading up my crew just to stroll around and see some animals sort of makes me want to break out into hives.  But when I found out Pops had a meeting down here, I experienced a moment of temporary insanity and suggested we go with Mops to the zoo.

Honestly, it was the perfect day.  The weather was incredible, we got there before the crowds (and man, was it crowded when we left!), the big girls were exuberant, and there were no major meltdowns.  When I asked Phoebe what her favorite animal was, she said without hesitation that the monkeys were her favorite.  Nora indicated that the kangaroo was her personal favorite; however, we didn't actually see a kangaroo, so...who knows?

 

We did, however, see pretty much every other animal in the zoo.  I had no idea that elephants ate sticks, and I was amazed that the flamingos could sleep so close to all the commotion.  As we strolled through the zoo and observed all of the different animals (except for snakes, as Phoebe was adamant that we would not be going to see any snakes that day) I couldn't help but marvel at God's creativity.  Pink birds?  Really?  Giraffes?  At the zoo, we get to see just a tiny fraction of God's creation -- and it's all so absolutely incredible.

Phoebe was a riot to see.  She was so enthusiastic about, well, just about everything.  And about halfway through our visit, she got her hands on the map.  Every time we would stop, she'd whip out her map and exclaim, "I think we need to look at the map!"  I think I giggled every time.  She got nervous if she thought we were approaching the snakes, but she made a pretty adorable tour guide.

We wrapped up our trip around lunchtime, which was the perfect time to get out of there.  When we left, the parking lot was completely packed and folks were actually parking on the side of the road outside the zoo.  Traffic was insanity.  After soliciting some lunch recommendations, we met Pops at a wonderful little local restaurant.  Gilchrist was great, and I'm pretty sure I could've eaten about three pimiento cheese BLTs.  The girls were all about the milkshakes and limeaids.  Can you blame them?

 

 

We were completely wiped out, but honestly, it was such a wonderful day.  I pretty much made our poor community group fend for themselves that night. We had such a good time, I was almost considering a zoo pass!

I Got Nothin'

 

Every time I open the dishwasher -- whether it is to load or unload it -- this little Mouse will drop whatever she is doing, even if it's on the other side of the house, to come help.  If I want to load, I have to do it lightning quick; she grabs dirty forks out by the handful.  Which, actually, is really handy when I'm unloading.    

This precious little wanderer-babbler is always up in the middle of the action, whatever it is, making all sorts of sweet Mouse Mischief.  And y'all, I'm beat.  I laid down this afternoon to take a nap, and I felt like I was just completely at the end of myself.  Too tired to do, well, most anything.  I'm daunted by even the daily tasks most days, and the past few weeks have just been an exhausting whirlwind.  But as I drifted off to sleep, I was reminded:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  2 Corinthians 12:9

It is so, so hard to be weak... I am so thankful for His sufficient, daily, powerful grace.

Goodbye, Dear Friend

For months, we've been talking to Nora about saying goodbye to her beloved nay-nay.  We've tried to talk it up, encourage her, and really get her to want to be a big girl.  I think I hoped that one day, she would just up and hand it to me and say she was done with it.  But it became clear that just wasn't going to happen.

Our sweet Nora seemed royally addicted to her comfort, and we knew it would take drastic measures to tear her away from it.  I dreaded the day.  We'd talked about doing it a few weeks ago, but then the stomach bug hit... and no loving mama takes a comfort object away during an illness.  So last weekend we were healthy, and we really didn't have a good reason not to do it; so, we took the plunge.

 

Taking Phoebe to build a Nay-Nay Bear worked well for her, and Nora was really excited about getting a ballerina bear for her nay-nay.  So off to Build-A-Bear we tromped.  Nora selected a sweet bunny, and Mama tried desperately to hold it together as Nora bravely stuffed her little red nay-nay inside her bear.  Phoebe, the experienced big sister, showed Nora how it was done -- and spruced up her own nay-nay bear for the occasion.  We even splurged on outfits for the critters, as Nora had been hoping for a ballerina bear, and we were feeling particularly insane generous on this special day.

The festivities continued with hamburgers and milkshakes, and we braced ourselves for our return home for bedtime.  As Nora snuggled into bed, she quietly said, "I need something...", not willing to name her precious comfort object.  But without too much sadness or bedtime silliness, Nora was able to fall asleep and stay that way for the rest of the night.

Since then, our Nora -- who would usually fall right asleep at both naptime and bedtime -- has struggled a little bit, especially at naptime.  She's finding mischief and is making a mess of her blankets, thrashing about... but she's sleeping.  We're having to remind ourselves that this transition will take time, and we don't expect her to sleep perfectly well in just a few days. 

I found a yellow Nora nay-nay in my purse yesterday as I was cleaning it out, and it killed me to toss it in the garbage... oh Nora, can't you stay small forever?

Four Years

When we got married, Michael and I had this four year plan.  We were going to work hard, travel a lot, make improvements to our home, and then we'd talk about babies.  We were young when we got married, and we wanted some time for "just us". 

So when we discovered that we were expecting just a week shy of our first anniversary, we were a little surprised.  And unbelievably delighted.  The four year plan washed away, and I couldn't wait to bring a little one into our lives.  Suddenly, our lives that seemed so full seemed so lacking; what were we thinking, wanting to wait four years?

Four years is a long time, and it would have been too long for us to wait.  Yet, four years has passed unbelievably fast as I look at my precious Phoebe-girl, who turns four today.  I almost have to pinch myself to believe that yes, she is four.  This tiny, beautiful, fussy little baby who bewildered and humbled and caused her parents to fall in love in a new way has grown into a delightful, confident, precious child, who daily reminds me how thankful I am that God has plans that are bigger and far more wonderful than mine.

This morning, I sat down with my coffee hoping to highlight who Phoebe is at four; instead, I'm overcome this morning by God's graciousness and goodness to us.  He does so much more than we can ask, dream, or imagine.  This morning, I'm praising Him for the beautiful gift of my Phoebe-girl, the little one who has exceeded even my wildest dreams.