First day of school!

Days before kindergarten started for Dani, we got the call:  our city would offer full-day Pre-K...but since the funding was new, the pre-k students would not start for a week or two while the district figured out the logistics.

 

So, Dani started kindergarten!  Tori was a bit bummed that she could not yet RIDE. THE. BUS. TO SCHOOL.

 

But Dani was stoked...with her light up Mario back pack.

Ten days later, it was time for Tori to go to school too!  A whole day means that she rides the bus with Dani and gets to do big kid things, like pack a lunch and forego naps!  Tommy looks excited in this picture but is woefully lost without the girls around.

 Dani was so excited for Tori's first day, that they agreed to dress the same!  And, every day that week they wanted to be "twinsies", wearing the same clothes to school. Dani was lecturing Tori about the importance of listening to the teacher, and behaving on the bus.

 Tori, meanwhile, had been dreaming about riding the school bus since she saw Dani do it a year ago!

 She mounted the stairs of the bus, with nary a look back.

 Peeked outside the window, and started her journey.

Pre-K doin's.

 I've always thought that things like pre-k graduations are so silly and unnecessary.  Logically, I buy into the idea that kids don't need participation trophies, and that we don't need to make up silly milestones for them.

Then, I had a kid in Pre-K.  I'm not saying I don't think it's silly, because it is.  And it's certainly unnecessary.  But, the kids all seemed pretty proud about graduating, and I'd be lying if I told you I didn't get teary during the ceremony.

It started with Dani being named "Pre-K Student of the Year" for her school.  This meant she got to attend a local baseball game and was recognized on the field--and got to run out onto the field with the home team.

She stayed out there for the National Anthem.  She was so proud.  And, it was pretty awesome, the whole family got to watch her from the stands.

 Two days later, it was Pre-K graduation.  Nothing like a hot summer night in an un-air conditioned elementary school cafeteria.

 Dani got to lead the assembly by holding the mic and reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.  (teary mommy)

 Look at this kid's face.  She's walking to receive her Pre-K "diploma".  She's beaming.

It's impossible not to be excited for her--because she's so excited about being ready for real school!

 Tori and Tommy managed to sit relatively still during the event.

 An attempt at a family photo was, as usual, like herding cats.  Tori is channeling her inner Bangles "Walk like an Egyptian" vibe.  This was the best, of many attempts.

It's amazing how fast this time flies.  Dani's headed to kindergarten.  Kindergarten!  (And Tori to Pre-K)

When we were driving to the Mohawks game, the night she was receiving the Student of the Year honor, she was in the back seat telling Tori, "To be the student of the year, you have to work hard and do your best every day in pre-k, Tori."

She is amazingly smart, and articulate for her age.  (I realize every parent says this.)

And, we're so proud of her.

 

A few kid sayings of late...

Some weeks ago, Tori hopped into the coveted second row minivan seat (that Dani had asked for) and when Dani protested, Tori's response was, "You snooze, you lose, kid."  (Thanks Grandma.)

Now, all three kids vie to be the first at anything so they can hurl the "you snooze you lose" taunt.

 

Last night I was talking to Dani and Tori about my parents' impending visit.  I was mentioning that there were a few things in the house that I wanted Grandpa to fix.  I told them that Grandpa could fix anything.  Dani disagreed.  "Grandpa can't fix people, mommy."

 

At dinner tonight, Tori announced that she would like to call me Bethany.  When I said no, she could call me mommy, she settled on mom, and told me if I were a balloon she would pop me.

 

Dani's favorite jokes to tell these days;

What do you call a cow with no legs?  Ground beef.

Why can't you hear a pterodactyl going to the bathroom?  Because the "p" is silent.

 

 



To Tori, as you turn 4.

 They say the middle child is always the complicated one. 

I don't know if that's true.

But it must be hard to find your place in the family when someone is always older, and doing things before you, and someone is always younger and needing more attention.

But you handle it with grace, usually.

Little Tori, you are suddenly not-so-little.  You're at that point in your childhood where your pendulum swings from desperately wanting to be a big girl, doing things for yourself without help, to desperately wanting to be the baby, snuggly and dependent on us for the simplest things.

You're brave.  And loud.  And my, you are funny.

You can get away with murder because you are so damn adorable.  The kind of adorable that strangers remark about when we go out.

And like the nursery rhyme, you are the little girl, with the little curl, right in the middle of your forehead...and when you are good, you are very, very good, and when you are bad, well, we all know the rest.

You thought that you would get to go to school as soon as you turned four.  I know you're excited to ride the bus like your big sister, but you've got to be patient....patience doesn't come easy at your age.

As you've carved your niche in the family, you are excelling in being in the kitchen with me.  We baked your birthday cake together--you picked it out, and all the toppings.  You decorated it yourself (and it was beautiful!).  You're my expert egg cracker, batter mixer, and dinner helper.

You are a bolt of lightning when I walk through the door after work..."Mommeeeeeeeeeeeee's home!" followed by a full-on sprint to give me a hug.  (Unless there is something really good on TV, in which case I am invisible.)

If our family were a class, you'd be the class clown.  And you'd win best smile.

 You're the catalyst for chaos in the house...so full of energy and silliness that Dani and Tommy can't help but follow you.  From your inexplicable and silly phrases, "I got a fruita in my toota" as you dance around shaking your booty, to your unparalleled couch bouncing ability, Daddy and I often have to turn our heads so the other kids don't see us giggling at your antics. 

In the middle of a tantrum, you demand "a hug and a kiss".  And you wrap your arms around me and hold me tight, as inside the toddler and big girl battle for dominance...sometimes it works and you calm down, other times, the toddler in you is stronger and the tantrum continues.

You, Tori are our brightest light, and our biggest challenge.

Keep diving in head first.

 And keep snuggling with me.

Happy birthday my sweet Tori.

Preparing for the holidays.

 I'm a bit behind in my posting because we've been having SO MUCH FUN!

It started with decorating for the holiday, and getting ready for Christmas card photos. 

It's torture a fun afternoon of getting toddlers dressed up and using a variety of bribes and threats keeping them smiling and interested while I desperately try to get a few decent photos for a card.

It's so hard to get all three looking at the camera and smiling at the same time.

We were so close with this one, but Tommy...

This one made the card.

 So did this one.

 We couldn't manage a hugging photograph that worked.

 Not sure what they were looking at, but it wasn't the camera.

 Crazy eyes.

 Duck face.

 A little clowing around.

 And we're still trying.

We managed to get some decent pics, and I found a deal on overnight shipping from Snapfish, so we had them in time to actually mail so people would receive them by Christmas....except I didn't order enough, so not everyone did....and I got to pay for rush shipping a second time, for the second wave of cards.  But they got done, and we were ready to celebrate!

 

And in crazy child utterances this month:

Dani informed me at bedtime yesterday that she wishes she was a boy "because it's more fun to be a boy because they have wee wees and get to have the boy toys at McDonalds".

Tori's favorite thing is to replace words with "poop", and she walks around singing "Frosty the Snowpoop" and all manner of silly poop related things.  Tommy then mimics her.  Yikes.

Driving in a car with Tommy results in yells of RED LIGHT STOOOOOOOOOOOP at the top of his lungs every time we see a light.

Five!

 Dani turned five this week.  Five!  Where does the time go?

It's been quite a year for our not-so-little Dani.

She started Pre-K.  She waits for the bus, with her Super Mario backpack, just like a big kid.  Every night at dinner, she's so eager to tell us about what her buddies did at school, to sing us songs, and tell us about her day.  When we drive around town, she loves to point out her friends' houses, and she's learning how to get places, telling me while I'm driving which way I should be going.

For weeks, she was singing songs in anticipation of her Christmas concert at school.  When the flyer came home, I was scheduled to be in court, but at the last minute, the matter was adjourned so I was able to go.  With some help, I snagged a second row seat.  She walked out with the twelve children in her class, anxiously looking around, and she saw me and Grandma Deb.  She frantically waved, and was so excited to sing to us.  Tears rolled down my cheeks while she sang and danced, "I'm a little snowman, look at me." 

There was my baby, up on stage, at school, in her first concert.

 She's the first one to offer to help, before I have to ask her.

Usually, she's the first one to tattle, unless she's joining in the mischief with Tori and Tommy.

She's quick to laugh, and make silly faces and sounds.

She's getting good at talking back too--Mommy, apparently, is very often wrong, you know.

And she's getting SO BIG--she's the tallest kid in her class, and comes up almost to my shoulders.

And she still wants to snuggle, as often as possible.  But these days, she reminds you more of one of those big dogs who doesn't realize she's not a lap dog, as she piles on top of me on the couch or asks me to pick her up.

 It's hard to believe she's five.

I swear, just yesterday she was a baby, trying to gnaw my face off.

And wow, I had far fewer grey hairs back then!

 It was so much easier back when there was just one.

I had so much time for just focusing on her...and celebrating the silliest of holidays, like her first St. Patty's day photos.

 She loves fiercely.

From the moment we brought Tori home, and she exclaimed "Baby" and kissed her, she embraced the role of big sister.

 And she couldn't wait to do it again with Tommy.

 She usually sets a pretty good example for them to follow.

And she is naturally good at sharing the spotlight.  It's interesting that when she chooses characters that she likes best, it's most often the supporting ones.  She prefers Luigi to Mario, Robin to Batman, Widget to Wubbzy.  She's the first one to hand over the coveted toy of the moment so Tommy won't cry, and to share her goodies with Tori without being asked.  An action not accompanied by please or thank you is nearly non-existent with her.

She changed my life.

She taught me how to love with a depth I did not know I possessed.

She taught me, and continues to teach me every day, important lessons like these:

A walk around the block can be magical if you find pinecones.

The boxes stuff comes in are often more fund to play with than the stuff.

Everything is better with sprinkles.

Always make time for another kiss and hug.

Bedtime songs are way better than bedtime books...Raindrops on Roses is still her favorite.

Getting dressed is more fun if you don't care if your clothes match.

You don't need a reason to turn off the lights and have a glow stick party.

Knock knock jokes don't have to be funny to be funny to toddlers.
All you need is a sunny day and a maple tree seed pod to turn into a unicorn.

 

And the most amazing part is that this is just the beginning.  The beginning of the life of my amazing little Dani.  As much as I selfishly hate to see her to grow so independent, I love to see her roots grow stronger as my little flower reaches for the sunlight.

Happy birthday, Dani.

The *mostly* perfect Mother's Day.

I am woken by Dani and Tori, stuffed animals in tow, asking to snuggle.  They climb into our bed around 7am, and hug, and hop, bounce around.  After a few minutes, I step into the bathroom to brush my teeth.  Tori sneaks in, "Happy Mother's Day!" she exclaims.  I come back into the bedroom and there are presents, lots of them, wrapped in Christmas wrap, which seems to be a trend in our house.  Dani has decorated a card, filled with pictures of people; when asked, she tells me, "This is you teaching me ballet, Mommy."

Daddy takes the trio downstairs, and I fall back to sleep.  I wake at 9:30--as a mother of toddlers, this is an all too rare luxury.  I head downstairs to check in--we all have some cereal, and I head to the shower.  We have plans.  Big plans. Stupidly risky plans.  We are taking three toddlers to a fancy restaurant for brunch.  We get dressed, do hair, Big Man sports a suit and tie.  He tells me I look pretty in my dress.

We arrive--head to our table.  I fix a pair of plates for the girls, while Big Man sits with Tommy.  As I head to fix my own, I look over at the table, all is well.  When I return, Dani says, "I don't like this, Momm-ARRRRRRGH" and she starts to puke.  Thankfully she had the linen napkin on her lap.  I catch most of it in my hands and the napkin, and a fair amount lands on her dress. No one seems to notice in those fleeting minutes. As the staff (and owner) notice I am cleaning, they ask if everything is okay.  Big Man assures them it's no reflection on the food, as I bring Dani to the Ladies room.  We rinse her dress off, wash up and are as good as new.  The table now has a pink cloth napkin at her place and all is well.  My plate of food is cold, but we're staying! 

Mother's Day Brunch, Take 2.

 

 Tommy masters the fork, and, thankfully, doesn't play the spoon/fork/plate banging game too loudly.

Tori sits like a little lady, drinking her orange juice from a tea cup.  Dani does the same.

 Tommy starts to get antsy so we head outside for some photos.  Tori is determined to clown around in every pic.

 When we could catch Tommy, he smiled and was a handsome little dude.

 Catching the three of them?  No way.  Between Tommy's need to move, and Tori's constipated face, we were doomed.

 They did slightly better when they posed with Daddy.

 This was us, headed back to the car.  Tommy was leading the charge.

 Daddy and Dani paused for a photo.

It really was a lovely day. 

 

And, I need to make a shout out to my mom.  I had a childhood full of love and creativity.  It was filled with playgrounds and beaches and adventures of all sorts.  Of songs, and stories, and unwavering love.  There were "tiger hunts" through the reeds at the beach (long before the universe was tick-paranoid) fresh air, and picnics, and just so much fun.  I am the mom that I am because of the mom that I had, and I very often think that I'm not doing it as well as she did.  Because she was awesome.  And now, she is showing that same love to my children--on the floor with them, bouncing on the beds, in the wagon to the park, and non-stop never-ending fun.  Love you Mom!

Dem bones.

Wow, there's a whole lot of learning going on in this house.  We've got these Leap Books, with a Leap Pen that the kids can use to point to words and pictures, and letters, etc.

One of the books has a section on the body, and Dani and Tori love to point to the bones on the skeleton.  And I went on youtube to let them hear the "Dem bones" song, and now it's the theme song of the week.

Tonight at dinner, Tori told me that when she grows up she wants to be a skeleton.

She is also known for saying, "I have a PELVIS!" "I have two patellas!"

Both Dani and Tori are happy to point out where their scapulas are, and are well-versed in metatarsals and metacarpals (and that's more than I know!)

Tonight, while skyping with my parents, Tori told them that she had phalanges.  When grandma and grandpa asked what those were (and I had no flipping clue) she wiggled her fingers to the camera and said "here".  The kid is not quite 3, won't poop on the potty, but knows the skeletal system better than I do.  It's adorable, but in a way where you start to wonder if you are turning your kids into little nerdies who will be teased mercilessly in kindergarten maybe not letting them watch enough Spongebob.

 

 Tommy is turning out to be the best mimic ever.  He repeats everything anyone says. He is really musical--can baby mumble sing the words to songs in perfect pitch.  It's really pretty awesome.  We've got to bank on some kind of artistic or athletic talent with that one--he's eaten more board books than he's read.

Dani asked me tonight if she could stay up all night, because last night she had bad dreams.  She came into my room at 1:30am literally shaking.  I had to turn on lights and she flipped when I left her in the well-lit bathroom to get a fresh underjam for her (ain't noone peeing in mommy's bed).  And then we had a mommy half asleep discussion about whether dinosaurs could hurt us, and I literally was teary and begging promised her there were no dinosaurs in mommy's bed and she went to sleep. I told her that she was going to sleep on Daddy's pillow and that always means good dreams. She was so resistent to sleep tonight--but in the eldest child, compliant way.  She went upstairs, we brushed and washed, and she pleaded to stay up, knowing full well she would get into bed when I told her to.  Then she begged for Daddy's pillow because it was the good dreams pillow (but Big Man was sleeping as he works tonight!).  Hmmmm, what to do.  I went into my dressing room and got out an old bracelet, a costumey one with stones.  After I turned off the light, I put it on her wrist and told her it was Mommy's good dreams bracelet, and that it would help her to have good dreams tonight...she was in awe.  I whispered, "Don't tell Tori because I only have one.  But if you think happy thoughts tonight and know you have my bracelet, you will be fine."  It seemed to work, but I'm guessing I will have company in the wee hours.

 Tori's making progress on the potty.  She's in pullups, but will always pee on the potty.  She always asks for a magazine when we ask her to try to poop.  She will just sit there, flipping through the pages.

It's the most wonderful chaos.

So big-a-big!

Dani has always been insistent that she wants her hair to be like Mommy's.  For about the past year or so, we've been taking her to have her hair professionally relaxed, but it is still so curly.  The relaxing makes it managable for day-to-day, and means fewer tears while we comb and style haphazardly put it into a hair tie or two.

The day we go to the salon, she gets a blow out, and looks just so grown up.  This weekend we did layers, and, except for the bangs (which she begged for) she actually looks like Mommy!

 Everyone at the salon was amazed at her ability to sit still.  She LOVED the dryer chair, and was just as polite as can be.  Tori, who carried on the last time we took her, had insisted that she did not want to go.  That was until we were leaving, at which time she insisted that she needed to go.  She screamed at the top of her lungs as I got Dani's shoes and coat on.  Then she sat at the picture window as I loaded Dani into my car, wailing at the top of her lungs.

On the way home, we stopped and got her some puzzles.

 Tommy had his 18 month baby visit last week--he weighs 31 pounds and is off the charts.  I don't think Dani weighed that much until about age 3.  Thank God he can climb the stairs.  Wes and I may need rotator cuff surgery if he isn't potty trained soon--lifting the little dude's legs to change him is a killer.

 Dani was happy to pose with me post-haircut.

 Tori and Tommy have made a game of chasing each other around the living room pillars.

In other funny kid things....

Tori has taken to nibbling everything she eats.  The simplest little goldfish cracker must be nibbled.  Last night at dinner, Big Man had grilled some burgers, and we were enjoying them with some salad and tater tots.  I look over at Tori towards the end of dinner, and she is hunched over, holding a tater tot with both hands, nibbling on it.  I motion to Big Man--he says, "Tori, you're not a mouse." 

Tori's reponse was to look up and say, "Squeak, squeak, I AM a mouse."

In the car the other morning, Dani told me, "Mommy, I wish I had two daddies."  When I asked her why, she responded, "So I could get twice as many hugs."