Surprise!

I see giant hollow cakes in her future.

(Taken with my iPhone, so the quality isn't great.)

Daily Inventory

At least six times a day, Elizabeth and I have this conversation:

E: Where Ehwah doe?

M: Ella is at school.

E: Oh. Where Yeeyee doe?

M: Lily is at school.

E: Oh. Where Bubble doe?

M: Campbell is at school.

E: Oh. Where Wook doe?

M: L*** is at school.

E: Oh. Where Mahnee doe?

M: M*** is at school.

We’ll finish her inventory, and then she’ll go off to play, only to come back 20 minutes later to start all over. Elizabeth also goes through the list when she gets up from her nap, any time we get in the car, and whenever we get home from running errands. It’s exhausting.

And I’m glad she can’t say the names of any more of our friends.

Quigley and Fred

Earlier this week, at the beginning of my solo parenting gig, I told the big girls that if they were helpful and extra good this week, I’d get them pet hermit crabs. We all mostly survived the week, and the girls were mostly good, so we trekked to the pet store yesterday and picked out our new family members.

Introducing

Quigley – he is Ella’s crab. She looks unhappy in the picture because she was convinced he was going to pinch her.

 

And Fred – Lily’s crab. Lily, my animal lover, desperately wants to hug him, and squeeze him and call him George, but Fred isn’t cooperating. I have to stop her from opening the tank and poking Fred 20 times an hour.

Turns out hermit crabs don’t do much, at least not during the day. The sand in their tank was covered in tracks this morning, so they apparently explored every nook and cranny during the night.

My idea, which wasn’t a brilliant one as it turns out, was that the kids would SHARE the hermit crabs. But since Ella and Lily have each claimed and named a crab, Campbell wants one, too. So I’ll be going back to the pet store for the 4th time – if I include the 2 trips it took to get the hermit crabs for Campbell’s class, which I do – in seven days. I don’t think I went to the pet store four times in the entire 13 years we had a dog.

My next goal is to find a permanent place in the house for Quigley and Fred. Right now they’re in the living room on a table, entirely too close to Elizabeth’s little hands for my comfort. Each time one of the big kids climbs on the arm of the sofa to check on the crabs, she’s right there behind them. I’m afraid I’m going to walk in the living room and find Elizabeth with a crab in her mouth.

B’s suggestion was that now that we can’t hold getting crabs out as a bribe, we can threaten to have a crab boil if the girls don’t behave. I knew I married him for a reason.

All new low

This is day three of my solo parenting gig, and I’m mostly holding it together. Mostly.

But this morning I hit an all new parenting low: I sent Elizabeth to preschool without shoes.

I searched the house and the car high and low and couldn’t find the either of the pairs that fit her, and I had to drop the kids off on time because I had a work meeting to get to, so I put socks on her and called it good enough. When I explained to her teacher, she just shook her head and laughed. It’s a good thing she’s known me forever, otherwise she might call the authorities.

I’m offering a bounty to the big girls for finding the shoes. That usually motivates them to look.

I’m never leaving the house again

It’s too dangerous out in the real world.

First, I set my hair on fire. And then I spent four hours in a lock down. Then yesterday, Elizabeth and I were nearly hit by an out-of-control, speeding car.

B and the big three were still camping, and the weather was perfect, so Elizabeth and I took a leisurely stroll around the block. We stopped to smell flowers and point at squirrels and kick the ball we brought with us. As we turned the last corner before our street, I heard a car coming along way too fast. I turned in time to see the car swerve back and forth and then jump the curb about 10 feet in front of us. The car plowed through several small trees and then travelled another 30 feet or so before being brought to an abrupt stop by a metal bus bench.

I snatched Elizabeth up and pulled out my phone to call 911. While I was on the phone with the operator, several people stopped to check on the driver. My across-the-street neighbor came out and took Elizabeth from me so that I could tell the driver that the paramedics were on the way. I was amazed at how quickly the emergency folks responded. Police, fire and EMS were on the scene within moments of my hanging up with 911.

After I gave a witness statement to the police officer, I went to my neighbor’s house to retrieve Elizabeth, and that’s when I really started to freak out. I couldn’t stop thinking about the what ifs of the situation. What if we hadn’t stopped to smell some flowers? What if we hadn’t been kicking the little ball along? What if Elizabeth hadn’t decided she needed to sit down on the sidewalk? If we had been 10 or 15 seconds faster with our walk, we would have been smack in the block-long path of destruction this woman left in her wake.

Odds are, the woman was speeding down the road, talking or her phone, or texting, or putting on make up – everything except watching where she was going. I’ve resolved not to talk on the phone ever again while driving. From now on, my phone is staying in my purse while I’m driving.

And I am never leaving the house again. I’m a recluse by nature anyway.

The car in its final resting place. This is the second time our neighbors have had a reckless driver end up in their yard.

The bench had been bolted into the side walk. The car pushed it a good two feet and mangled it beyond repair. Even though the driver had hopped the curb half a block back, she was still going really fast when she hit the bench.

The path of destruction. All the trees got sheared off at ground level.

Singing the Hokey Pokey while all Hell breaks loose

My two littlest kids go to a wonderful little preschool that is housed in a church on the campus of The University of Texas. The very same campus that yesterday had a gunman walk into a library and kill himself after walking several blocks and firing his AK-47 randomly.

Yesterday morning was one for the books.

I was scheduled to be the “helping parent” in Campbell’s class, which meant we had to be at school by 8:15. As I was turning across Guadalupe into the parking lot, police cars came flying down the street, lights and sirens going. It looked like something out of a movie. When we got inside, one of the school moms was standing in the entry talking about a gunman on campus.

All the parents there, myself included, immediately reached for their phones to find information online, only to be disappointed. One of the teachers turned on a radio in her class, and the morning DJs were talking about a hot sauce festival. We had no idea what was going on.

Slowly the news filtered in that there was indeed a gunman and that the campus was on “In Shelter” mode, which meant that everyone was to stay put and lock the doors. Our little school went into lockdown mode – all the doors and windows were closed and locked, the kids weren’t allowed on the playground, and two dads were stationed by the entrance to let people in and keep them in.

This meant that all the parents who were at the school to drop their kids off had to stay there. They all wandered the halls, cell phones in hand, calling and texting work and family and whomever. I sent texts to B and to some friends and took a call from my dad, who was in South Carolina listening to our local NPR station and had heard the news. He had more information on what was happening than any of us in the school did.

Our school director, who has only been on the job for a month, did an incredible job handling a stressful situation. She kept the teachers and parents informed of the latest developments and worked to make sure the kids had no idea what was going on. I could tell some of the kids in the school were picking up on their parents’ stress, but everyone in our classroom was just fine.

Things did get slightly surreal at times. Like when we were singing the “Hokey Pokey” with the kids as the campus air raid sirens were sounding. The sirens went off every half our, each time followed by a booming announcement telling people to stay indoors. At one point I was upstairs in the church kitchen washing up the snack dishes and looked out the window to see helicopters hovering at roof-top height. It was all very unnerving, to say the least.

I was amazed, though, to see a parade of students walking and biking in to campus. Apparently they hadn’t gotten the word about the University’s being shut down, although given the number of e-mails, tweets, and Facebook updates that were flying through the interwebs, I’m not sure how that’s possible. And when I watched news coverage later in the day, I was stunned at the number of gawkers hanging out on the other side of the police tape watching the action. Did they think that being on the far side of the tape made them safe somehow?

A little after noon the All Clear was sounded, and everyone at the school breathed a huge sigh of relief. The director made the decision to shut the school down for the rest of day because UT was also closed.

As stressful as it was to be at the school, too close for comfort to the action, I am grateful I was there instead of at home and not able to get to my kids. The few parents who had dropped their kids off before the lockdown must have been just frantic. I’m not sure what I would have done had I been in their position – I think I might have disobeyed the lockdown and driven to school just to be there with them. But I’ll never know.

I spent the rest of the day pretty rattled, pondering the might-have-beens of the situation and feeling profoundly grateful that everyone except the gunman was safe and sound.

And I hope to never have to go through such a situation ever again.

Happy Birthday Knitttergran

Today is knittergran's birthday. Since we can't be there to celebrate, I figured I'd film the kids now that I have this fluffy computer with a built-in video camera. So far, Elizabeth is the only one to cooperate. Please excuse my chin and focus instead on the cute little girl.

Obligatory First Day of School Post

The kids started back to school this week, and all the baby angels sang Hallelujah. I wasn't at all weepy about sending the big girls to school. I've had just about as much as I can take of the bicker twins lately. Being around other kids at school will be good for them.

Ella is in 4th grade, which doesn't seem possible. I remember being in 4th grade. I met my bestest friend in 4th grade. I'm still friends with kids from 4th grade. How did she get so old? Ella picked out her outfit and was quite pleased when I told her none of it matched. She especially loves her new Converse All-Stars.

Lily is in 2nd grade. She, of course, had to pick out a dress for the first day. And I have to admit, she looked darn cute in it. Her teacher is one of the best at the school, and we're thrilled she has him. Lily cracked me up when we were walking through the halls on the first day. She was like the little mayor of the school, saying hi to and chatting up everyone she saw. She is definitely my little social butterfly.

Campbell now goes to preschool five mornings a week, thank the baby jeebus. He needs more activities and stimulation that I can give him. He insisted on wearing his new sunglasses to school. We've started calling him The Dude. And he does indeed abide.

And finally, mah baybee. Elizabeth started a mother's day out program and goes to school Tuesday and Thursday mornings. She has the same divine teacher all of the other kids have had, which made dropping her off much easier. I was able to hand Elizabeth off to Miss Katherine and leave, knowing that she was in the best possible care.

But I was still a little weepy when I left - my last baby has started school. Before I know it, she'll be in college.

Sob.

Baby and the Beach

I wouldn't say that Elizabeth exactly hated the beach. She certainly liked it better than Campbell did at the same age. He wouldn't even sit on a chair on the blanket without screaming.

Elizabeth was just fine as long as her little feet didn't touch the sand. She was quite content stand at the very edge of the blanket and dig in the sand, always making sure that her toes never crossed the line. It actually made it quite easy to keep an eye on her - I always knew right where she was.

We eventually convinced her to sit on my lap at the very edge of the water and let the little waves lap over her legs, and she ended up loving it. Elizabeth would happily kick and splash in the water, but if her feet actually touched the sand, she'd scream - just like in the picture below.

I'm hoping that Elizabeth will come to love the beach as much as the rest of us do. I think she's at the age when anything new or different is bad, bad, bad.

There was a little girl

With a curl in the middle of her forehead

When she was good,

She was very, very good

But when she was bad,

She was horrid.

Elizabeth has hit full-on terrible twos, and she is killing me. She has started throwing tantrums that rival any screaming fit Ella ever pitched. Yesterday she got so worked up - she didn't want to be held, she didn't want to be put down, she didn't want to be on the sofa, she didn't want to be on the floor - that I ended up putting her in her crib, figuring she needed some time in a cool, dark room to settle her down. As I walked to the door, I looked back just in time to see her tumble head first over the rail of her crib. Fortunately, she landed on her back instead of her head. And I think she scared herself enough that she won't try it again. But I've still ordered a crib tent to prevent and further tumbles.

Elizabeth has also taken to hitting, pulling hair, and biting. Campbell is the usual target of her attacks, and bless his heart, he usually doesn't do anything other than scream. Sunday he came out of his room sobbing and showed me his hand. There was a very clear set of Elizabeth-sized teeth prints on his wrist.

We've been putting Elizabeth in time out whenever she hits or bites or pulls, but I'm not sure it's working. Last week she got mad at Campbell, and I caught her with hand raised, poised to hit him. I told her that if she hit her brother, she'd have to sit in time out. She looked at me, cocked her eyebrow, and slapped Campbell on the face. And then she walked over to her time out spot and sat down. I'm not sure what our next step is.

Fortunately, the little hellion does have her good times. When she's not pitching fits or pummeling her brother, she's a sweet, funny little girl who knows just how cute she is. She's adding words by the day - Monday's was "eye beam!" which means ice cream. She loves tagging along after Campbell and her big sisters and copying everything they do. And she willingly gives us big hugs and kisses.

She makes me laugh more often than she makes me want to tear my hair out - but just barely.

Making my heart melt

"Baby! Come hold my hand."

I think we need a dog

Our neighbors just adopted a 9 month old puppy, and I think my girls are as excited about Jake's arrival as his owners are. My big girls and the kids next door have been talking lots about dog training and what they are going to teach Jake to do.

But my girls' enthusiasm for dog training has taken a worrisome turn. They've decided to train Elizabeth like she's a puppy.

Yesterday I caught Ella teaching Elizabeth to sit and stay and then rewarding her by popping pieces of cookies in Elizabeth's open mouth. Ella and Lily have done such a good job that Elizabeth now responds to hand signals for lie down and twirl.

The girls have asked for their own puppy, but B and I have told them that we cannot possibly bring another living thing into this house because there is simply not enough room.

But if they keep up the puppy training with Elizabeth, I may change my mind.

*****

And speaking of cute animals, go check out knittergran's adorable new kitten Baxter.

Baby in a basket

Ella got tired of having Elizabeth in her room, messing things up. So she did this and pushed Elizabeth into the hallway and slammed the door.

Sitting with my kids

We have had a string of illnesses here at Chez HOK that has left me reeling. Ella was sick last Thursday and Friday - I sent her to school on Friday only to have her teacher call me, sigh. Campbell woke up at 3:00am on Sunday with croup, which is always fun. I particularly enjoy sitting in front of an open freezer in the middle of the night with a sobbing preschooler. Then, to add insult to injury, Elizabeth spiked a fever Tuesday night and started coughing.

As a result, I've spent much of the past 7 days with a child in my lap. Even though Ella is approaching the age where she won't want to admit she knows me in public, she does still love to be mother-henned when she's sick. And Campbell and Elizabeth both turn into Velcro babies when they don't feel well.

Instead of letting myself get upset at the amount of work that needs to be done around the house and the amount of paying work I've fallen behind on, I've decided to enjoy these quiet days of snuggling and loving.

My babies are growing up so fast, as is evidenced by the fact that Ella doesn't even fit on my lap, and I need to treasure the quiet moments. Plus, being a mom is my primary job - ahead of vacuuming and doing laundry and writing continuing education modules for doctors. Nothing in my life right now is more important than taking care of my sick kids.

That having been said, if one more child gets sick, I may just lose my mind.

Threats, Bribes and Bluebonnets

It's a rite of spring in Central Texas to plop your kids in one of the many fields of wildflowers that line the sides of the roads and take their pictures. Of course, most families do their photo shoots Easter weekend and dress their kids in beautiful, matching spring outfits.

I haven't managed to get bluebonnet pictures of the kids since we added Campbell and Elizabeth to the family, so I was bound and determined to get photos this year. Of course, I didn't manage to do it Easter weekend, so yesterday I decided it was time to get it over with. I promised the big girls dinner from P. Terry's if they cooperated, and it turns out, the girls will do just about anything for P. Terry's.

I didn't even try to get the kids into matching outfits and instead opted for whatever I could convince them to put on. Campbell and Elizabeth were easy, since they didn't much care. But it took some convincing to get Ella to put on a dress. We ended up working out a compromise that involved a dress AND shorts. And when Lily pulled out her winter boots to wear with her spring dress, I decided not to argue. I didn't want her eyes all puffy and red from the sobbing that would surely ensue if I made her change shoes.

And off we went.

I took a few of all four kids but gave up on my goal of getting one good picture of all of them. Campbell wouldn't take his hands away from his eyes, and I couldn't get Lily to keep looking at the camera.

Campbell took off to run up and down the hill almost immediately, so I took some of the girls together. It didn't last long, though. Elizabeth didn't like being in the flowers and grass, and Lily started sobbing that a thorn was poking her bottom. So I set them all loose to just run around, and I took pictures while they did it.
Campbell had the best time running up and down the hill. He only fell a few times and popped up laughing every time he did. He liked exploring the paths that other people had already trampled in the field.

Ella mostly just wandered around looking at the flowers. The shorts with the dress are just so lovely. Sigh.

Lily, of course, twirled and twirled in the flowers are she ran around. The girl was just meant to pose for pictures in fields of flowers.

Maybe next year I'll get one good photo of all four. But I doubt it.

No pictures

We had an explosion of cuteness in the kitchen the other night. The big girls, instead of cleaning up the kitchen, were playing Ring Around the Rosy with Campbell. Elizabeth heard the commotion and went zipping into the kitchen. She stood on the side for a moment, watching the big kids, and then started twirling in circles and falling down.

The big girls grabbed Elizabeth's hands and included her in the fun. And that's when things got really, squee-ably cute. Elizabeth loved shouting "Down" even if it wasn't the right time. And every time she did, the big three would fall down with her, all of them giggling their heads off.

My immediate impulse was to run and grab my camera. But then I stopped myself. No picture would be able to accurately portray the fun and laughter. So I decided to just sit and watch the show. The memories will last longer than any picture ever could.

The day started out so well

Warning, blatant mommyblogger post ahead. And gross stuff.

My day really did start out very well. I got out the door before dawn for a four-mile run and finished before any of the kids woke up. I got Lily up and moving for breakfast without her waking up Campbell in the process. And I even managed to get her out the door without her crying a single time.

After that, I checked my e-mail and found out that one of my posts had been picked up by Deep South Moms Blog.

Next up, I broke the news to Ella that I had let her sleep in because she had a doctor's appointment for her severe allergies. Ella views going to the doctor as punishment, so she gave me the silent treatment all through breakfast.

And that's when things started going wrong.

Ella was in a bedroom playing with Campbell, when she yelled that there was a problem. Turns out he had pooped in his pants, and it had fallen out on the floor. Once I got Campbell and the floor cleaned up, I had yet another talk with him about how we don't poop in our pants.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth fell over and started screaming. I picked her up and sat on the sofa to comfort her, and she promptly threw up all over the two of us and my hand-knit blanket. At first, I thought maybe she had thrown up because she was crying so hard. But after she'd quieted down, she threw up again. Le sigh.

I got us both cleaned up and sat Elizabeth on the sofa in a nest of towels, only to discover that Campbell had pooped in his pants AGAIN.

That's when I started cursing.

So I cleaned him up AGAIN and tossed all the vomit- and poop-covered clothing and towels in the wash.

And that's when Elizabeth threw up all over the place again.

Sonofabitch.

I escaped the mess to take Ella to her doctor's appointment. He loaded her up with some new allergy medicines, including a nasal spray that I just know we're going to have to pin her down to use. My plan was to drop her off at school on the way home, but in the car she started complaining that her head hurt. So I let her come home with me. Of course, she's been pinging around the house like nothing's wrong. The plus side is that she's been keeping Campbell very entertained.

It's 1:30 and Elizabeth is asleep with a fever. She hasn't thrown up in hours, but I'm not letting my guard down yet. The day is still young.

Two years ago

Two years ago today, I wrote this non-April Fool's Day post about my surprise fourth baby, eliciting shocked and funny responses from friends. The best reaction was from my dear friend O'Pine, who read my post with me sitting in his living room. He spent several minutes saying, "Really? This isn't a joke? Seriously?" before he believed me. Perhaps it was my bursting into tears that convinced him.

Even though I had grave concerns about how I was going to handle a fourth child and even though I spent a lot of time crying being pregnant again, I wouldn't trade Elizabeth for the world. She is absolutely a wonderful addition to our family. She rules our house with a tiny iron fist and is in serious danger of being completely spoiled by everyone in the family. Her big sisters fight over who gets to play with her, and Campbell still calls her "my beebee." Even B is completely wrapped around her little finger, promising her ponies on a regular basis.

When Elizabeth was just a few hours old, the NICU nurse told me that she could already tell Elizabeth was going to be feisty. At the time, I didn't really believe the nurse. I was sure it was what they told all mothers of preemies in NICU. Turns out, the nurse knew what she was talking about. Elizabeth is going to be my biggest challenge, without a doubt.

She has Ella's stubbornness, Lily's dramatic tendencies, Campbell's constant motion, and her own temper all mixed together. She can already throw tantrums that rival anything her siblings ever did. Mostly I laugh when she pitches a fit, because she is so tiny that it's funny to see someone so small getting so mad.

Plus she's so dang cute that I can't really take her seriously.

So two years after my bombshell, I'm immensely grateful to have this wonderful little nut in our family.

Lily at ballet

One of things I love about Ballet Austin, where Lily has taken dance class for the past three years, is that they don't have recitals. Instead, parents, siblings, grandparents and other friends are invited to attend class several times a year.

This past Saturday was watching day, so Elizabeth and I sat in on the class. Unfortunately, we didn't last very long because Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to run out on the dance floor Lily. I ended up taking her out into the hall and watching through the glass door.

We weren't allowed to take pictures during the class, so we had to be satisfied with getting some photos of curtsies afterwards. Lily loves to curtsy - she takes it very seriously as you can see by her expression.

Elizabeth was so happy to be allowed back in the room that she ran to Lily. Such sweet sisters.

The Ballerina Basher

Lily's birthday was a few weeks ago, and we had a roller skating party for her. The kids all had a grand time, and I was impressed with how well they did on skates. For some, it was their first time on wheels.

Ella was ready to skate first, but she decided to wait for company before hitting the rink. She was a little unsteady at the start but improved greatly at the end of the hour of skating.

B's mom and aunt decided to put skates on Elizabeth. They got the smallest pair the place had and laced them up. Elizabeth had a blast and did two laps around the rink. By the end of her first lap, she was getting frustrated with her grandmother and aunt for holding her hands because she wanted to take off all by herself. She's showing a streak of stubborn independence that's worrying me a bit.

When a friend heard about the skating party, she started coming up with Roller Derby names for Lily. Her suggestions were Lightning Lil and Ballerina Bomber. I said I liked Ballerina Basher better because it sounds a bit more violent. I can just picture Lily out on the derby track - pink tights, a tutu, a black helmet with a skull and crossbones.

The roller rink had a poster advertising a junior Roller Derby team. Perhaps I should sign Lily up. She's already got a good name for it.