Pirate Arrrrrrt

Grandpa asked Bubby what he wanted for his birthday. 

So Bubs drew him a picture.

Nailed it.

:)

Toes and Twos

The kids recently finished up a two-week session of swim lessons.  They quickly got used to the idea of going to the pool every day, so I've been trying to still get them there as much as possible.  The problem is, the pool doesn't open until noon.  Which means by the time the big kids swim for a couple of hours, the littles are way past their 1:00 nap times.  Bubs handles that pretty well.  But Baby Sis is kind of an F2 tornado under normal conditions; add exhaustion and she quickly upgrades to a 5.

Now two year olds don't really make a ton of sense in general (it's one of their best qualities), but irrationally tired two year olds make zero sense whatsoever.

We had the following exchange:

Me: (just about to sit down and eat lunch...at 4pm if I'm keeping track)

Baby Sis:  (while changing out of her bathing suit, discovers a bottle of purple nail polish under the sink in the bathroom)

"I want to paint my nails!"

Me:  (hands her play clothes, already anticipating the protest - she only willingly wears ball gowns and tutus)

Baby Sis:  "Nooo, I want to wear my Belle dress!"  (tears)

Me:  "I can't paint your nails in your Belle dress.  If you want your nails painted, you'll need to put on play clothes."

(She doesn't sit still until they dry, so I know better than to paint her nails in an outfit she really cares about.)

Baby Sis:  (crosses arms, plops down on bathroom floor wearing neither outfit and cries)

Me:  "[Sis], you may wear your dress.  But if you want your nails painted, you'll need to put on play clothes.  I'm going to go eat my lunch.  You decide."

Baby Sis:  (finally concedes and puts on play clothes)

Me:  (abandons lunch and comes in to paint nails because at least she's clothed and not crying --

finishes the last of ten toenails in the color she picked)

"Okay, [Sis], there you go!" (Ta da!)

Baby Sis:  (throws herself down on the bathroom floor and cries)

"I don't want to paint my nails!!!"

(tears)

~~~

Knowing there was absolutely no point in reasoning with her, I returned to my half-eaten lunch that may or may not have been licked by the cat.  I'll never know.

Baby Sis hashed out her moment of rage (conveniently allowing her nails time to dry), changed into her Belle dress, and came peacefully wandering out of the bedroom several minutes later.

The day proceeded as normal.  And she changed outfits several more times.

By evening, everyone was sufficiently "played out" and had dispersed to various parts of the house to do other, quieter things.  Princess A was on the front porch painting.  Baby Sis asked if she could go out front and paint too, so I let her.  When Princess A came walking in a few minutes later, I went out to check on Baby Sis' progress.

There was evidence that she had at some point painted a picture.  But now she was intently...

painting her nails.

In a princess dress.

But not the Belle dress.

Also, I should note that I don't typically grant her request to paint her fingernails because she still puts her fingers in her mouth sometimes, so I only paint her toes.

No matter.  

Like everything else she sets her mind to, she'll just do it herself.

Naturally, she got paint not only on her nails but a number of other things as well - all over her hands, on the bench, in her hair......aaand on her princess dress.

Although paint is far easier to deal with than nail polish, so I'll take it.

(We may or may not have permanently purple tiles and baseboards in our master bathroom from a previous nail polish indiscretion.  But that's another story.)   

Anyway.

As I stood in the driveway watching this escapade, my heart was filled with tenderness for her.

She is so precious.

They all are.

I remember a time when these toddler years were maddening to me.  Every small battle was a hill to die on.  And my tiny children were clearly tiny adults set out to defy my parental authority in as many ways as possible.

But they aren't tiny adults.

Toddlers are toddlers in all of their perfect, uncultivated glory.  And they're fantastic in their chaos.

What a privilege it is to get to see into another soul like clear glass.

Every minute of Baby Sis' day is run on raw emotion and strong opinions that, I might add, generally do not parallel mine.  Every normal task takes twelve times longer than it should because she has to do it herself.  She changes clothes - no joke - five times before lunch most days. When I'm in a hurry to leave in our vehicle, that's when she disappears into the abyss of backseats that I can't reach without not-very-gracefully traversing them like hurdles, then does the limp noodle slide out of her own car seat once I finally hoist her into it. She is real, and honest, and endearingly audacious.  

And beautiful.

They all are.

I'm so thankful that God has given me the privilege of raising each of these unique individuals.

And seven tries to get it right, ha!

That most definitely remains to be seen.

Not-So-Natural Selection

As I was out tending to the plants in our garden this morning, I spotted this little guy tucked back in between some tomato leaves.

I was pretty sure I knew what the white baggage he carried on his back was, but I wanted to be 100% certain.  Thanks to my friend, Google, I was able to quickly confirm my suspicion.

The caterpillar is called a tomato hornworm.  

It's technically a pest, feeding on my tomato plants.

The white, rice-looking thingies are the eggs of a braconid wasp.

Basically, the wasp attaches its eggs to the hornworm.  And when they hatch, the larvae burrow into the caterpillar and essentially eat it alive from the inside out.

That sounds like a horrible death to me!  

So while I don't love finding hornworms in my garden, I couldn't sit idly by and allow that to happen.

The kids were a bit confused, being that it is an enemy of the garden.  So I referenced the "love your enemies" scripture to explain why we were going to try to save it.

I was relieved that the eggs were relatively easy to detach from the soft flesh of the caterpillar.  There were some tiny dots in the places where they'd been, but nothing too severe.  I'm hopeful that it will make a full recovery.  But heck, even if it doesn't, at least it won't be eaten alive!

As soon as the procedure was finished, it stretched out and began inching along the stem it had been clinging to.

As for the wasps, I felt a little bit bad about robbing them of their ability to thrive.

But I decided that the way they get ahead in life is barbaric and terrible.  So I didn't feel that bad.

The kids had fun helping with the rescue effort and releasing it back into the garden with a new lease on life.

(We decided it had already been through enough, and therefore gave it a free pass to live out its days among our tomatoes.)

Welcome to the M family - interrupting nature one pest at a time!

:)

"Is this heaven?"

   "No - it's Iowa."

 But when you're 2, it's basically the same thing!

Daddy Daughter Dance

A month or so ago, the girls brought home invitations from church to their first ever Father Daughter Dance.  

They were so looking forward to it, as was J!

They purchased their tickets and were ready to go.

Unfortunately, a week before the big day Big Sis got sick.  I mean, really really sick.

I thought a week would be long enough for her to get well, but not so.  The poor thing was miserable. She had a headache/stomachache, horrible joint pain, red spots from head to toe, and ran a temp of 101-102 for seven solid days.

After 4 trips to the doctor and a battery of tests, we still have no idea what mystery virus made her like this.

Although her spots were beginning to fade, she cried when she woke up with a fever the day of the dance and knew there was no way she could go.

This is one of those parenting decisions that isn't super easy to navigate.

  We debated:  

Should J and the other girls go anyway, leaving just one girl disappointed instead of three?

After all, we want each girl to know how much she matters independently, and that J would take her to the dance even if she were the only child.

But on the other hand, could they really leave Big Sis behind and go party it up knowing how sick she was at home?

I think maybe the situation would have been different if Big Sis had had to stay home just because of a cold or sore throat or something.  But she was clearly in need of some major TLC.

J sat down with the other girls and held an open discussion.

No one wanted to miss the dance, but they could also see that their sister needed some love.

So the decision was made not to go to the dance - but instead, to bring the dance to us!

That is, after all, one great benefit to having a somewhat large family.  We're a built-in party all by ourselves!  :)

Plans were hatched and everyone was on board.

Younger Brother got to work stringing Christmas lights over the back patio to create a suitable venue.

The girls and J dressed up just as they would have, and of course, got the honorary pre-dance pictures taken.

Because the dance was here, Baby Sis was able to attend as well.

Bubby wanted his picture taken with Daddy too.

I have no idea why he chose to wear a three-sizes-too-small dragon suit, but he loves it, so whatever.

DJ Jazzie Younger Brother gladly accepted the roll of DJ for the evening.

He compiled a dance playlist ahead of time and streamed it through the Ipod docking station he scored at a garage sale recently.  He even included a few songs from Big Sis' favorite, Sara Groves.  Not exactly YB's music of choice, so that was love!

  

Princess A and Baby Sis were the first to hit the dance floor, but they weren't alone for long!

Dragon Bubby decided to set up a concession stand selling imaginary popcorn.  But his customer service was sorely lacking.  Sometimes he'd hand over the popcorn but other times he'd just yell, "No popcorn for you!" and send you to your room.

He tired of that pretty quickly and decided to showcase his true talents on the dance floor.

He's a dancing machine!  

Who knew?

It's a good thing J's back is better than mine at the moment.

If we were uncertain about our decision, we weren't anymore.

~

It was already shaping up to be a great evening, but it was only just beginning.

Chef Biggest Brother prepared dinner for everyone and dutifully sampled the punch.

 Then it was time for a brief intermission.

Everyone came inside for dinner, and J read the girls one of his favorite poems.

Then it was back outside for more dancing.

It turns out Bubby is really good at doing the robot!  He gets this blank stare, faraway look in his eye and it's hysterical.

He was very serious about teaching Baby Sis his trade.

I don't think she was paying attention.

Another hidden talent - he plays a mean, classic rock broom guitar!  I had no idea he was such the life of the party.

Speaking of, there was another surprise contender.

  Biggest Brother needs to attend a lot more wedding receptions!!

Can I just take a minute to say, I love this kid's self confidence and that he has never gone through that "too cool" phase of teendom.  I mean, props to him for spending his Saturday night in a chef's coat, lip syncing into a sippy cup like a boss, and making his sister smile.

J and I finally got one slow dance together, though it was surrounded by the usual brand of chaos.  And at one point, Bubby jabbed us with a broom handle and shouted, "No kissing!"

The party continued into the night.

(Photo credit: Big Sis)

(I have no idea what Baby Sis was doing here, but I'm glad the bucket says "clean".)

 By this time, just about everyone was worn out and headed for bed.

Just about.

I was not the least bit surprised by which family member was the last one dancing!

And with that, Daddy Daughter Dance 2017 was a wrap.

And it was most excellent in every way.