Ellery spends a lot of time trying to get her shirt on and off. Mostly with success, but often with a furrowed brow.
-
-
Valentine’s Day: Part 1
This morning Mary Beth came over to play. Tom and Shep took off for some boy time, while Neko, MB, Ellery and I hung out.
I managed to keep Ellery busy while Neko and Mary Beth got crafty. They're reading one of The Littles books at school, so the girls decided to paint gliders for Dinky and the rest of the Littles.
-
-
More Valentine craftyness
Another one courtesy of maya*made, who has all kinds of excellent ideas this year—way more than I have time for. She is clearly not sleeping this week.
The kids loved doing this, even Ellery, since the messier it got, the better it turned out. I adore crafts that can span the ages of my three kids. This one is a keeper.
I'm already thinking we could easily adapt it for St. Patrick's Day…
(Yes, bats are hanging from our mantle, thanks to Stellaluna.)
-
Heart pretzels
We've been getting a bit crafty around here in preparation for Valentine's Day, which is suddenly a Big Deal now that we have a five-year-old roaming around the house.
So today we made heart-shaped pretzels. You can find the recipe here. They were fairly quick to make and delicious to eat.
Shep played with a leftover dough ball for hours until the fateful moment when he turned his head and Ellie (our dog) ate it in about 1.3 seconds. And then Shep cried for nearly an hour because Ellie had wounded him to his very core and because he had a very long time out after he kicked her.
I tried not to laugh as he sat on my lap, his little fists clenched, body shaking with fury, as he sputtered, "I'm just SO ANGRY!" I know a lot of grown-ups who can't handle anger that well, so I had to give him some props for being able to express himself.
But the pretzels? Yummy.
-
Ellery turns two
Today you turn two. Which is somewhat stunning when I think about it, because weren't you just born a few months ago?
I feel compelled to write some sort of post about who you are and what you do, so I looked back on last year's post to see what I'd written. I was somewhat shocked to see that I could have written the same post this year.
Other than the fact that now you are stringing words into whole sentences, you're very much the same. I have a feeling that on your fortieth birthday, we'll look back and all those first observations will hold true. You are a wise, old soul.
Your love for babies know no bounds. This year's birthday gifts were almost all accessories for your little ones—a snuggly carrier and a bathtub. You have immediately put both to good use.
Second to babies, you love Elmo, who adorned your cupcakes. I confess, I was ill-prepared when I got down to the business of baking. Those decorative balls cover an orange-y pink color that was a result of not enough red food coloring and the chocolate chip mouth was a last-minute substitution when I realized I had no black food coloring. You were delighted, nonetheless.
Oh, and I apologize for these photos. It was dark in the morning when we opened presents and again in the evening when we ate cupcakes. So they're kind of mediocre photos.
But I have a feeling this is how life is as a third. We're busier than when we did all this for the first two. And these events happen in the space and time when we're all in the same room, and the amount of that seems to be dwindling. We don't love you any less, we just have to make a greater effort to squeeze in the moments to profess it.
You are bright, wise, and fiercely independent. But in the midst of all that, you've developed a shy side. At story hour you now crawl into my lap and bury your head with a little whisper just to me, "Shy." I had my own shy side as a child, so this all feels rather familiar.
I have a feeling this shy, quiet part of you would be more present if it weren't for your crazy siblings. But they rev you up, and soon you're tearing around the house, squealing and making just as much racket as possible to keep up. We all may be a bit hard of hearing in a few years, but I think their effect on you is mostly quite wonderful. They adore you so much, I'm not sure I could keep them at bay even if I tried.
Happy birthday, little one.
-
Something is different…
I bought these stickers for Tom a few years back (or maybe it was my mother, I can't remember). He uncovered them the other day, and ever since then, little faces have been popping up all over the place.
-
Family time
It's been weeks since all five members of our family have shared the same space. Between illness and snow days, it feels like we've been working split shifts.
We declared today a family day. Which is good, because it started at 5:30am when Ellery awoke, and it was clear it was going to take both of us from the get-go. Neko and Shep followed soon after, and we found ourselves at the doorstep of Bob Evans when they opened at 7am. Then off to the zoo, and back at home for quiet time by noon.
When I reviewed all these photos I realized all the kids look dark and brooding. I swear, there were a lot of smiles today, too. But, sheesh, when your day starts at 5:30am, we're all bound to look a bit ragged.
-
3 children, 3 dogs, and 1 dragon
Neko's class has been learning about the Chinese New Year. Dragon parades now taking place in the living room.
-
Gone skiing
I've been meaning to take Neko skiing. For about two years.
Tom, Renita, and Diane took her tubing last year, but she petered out after 30 minutes because she was cold. So when the weather soared toward 50 today, I realized this was perfect opportunity.
When Tom arrived home, Neko and I took off for the slopes. She was excited but nervous. She has a hard time with new things. She wants to be good at everything right away.
As expected, she fell a lot at the beginning. She was frustrated, and mentioned quitting once or twice, but quickly got the hang of it. By the end of the evening, she was leading Renita and I down the bunny hill, demanding to go first.
As we rode up the hill on the moving sidewalk (the bunny hill alternative to ski lifts), she looked up at the Wishing Star (the North Star) and told me she was making a wish.
Later, I asked her what she wished for. "My very own skis," she replied.
(I completely forgot my fling camera, so you'll have to make due with these iPhone photos.)
