Plz I can haz sum?

On Sunday morning Andrew caught me spritzing Benjamin's hair with hair detangler.

"What are you doing that for?" he asked. "Now he's going to smell all fruity!"

Andrew believes that detangler is for girl's hair, not boy's. He believes boys should just have their hair buzzed completely off (which is the way he prefers his hair).

"I couldn't help it!" I said.

Benjamin found the detangler and carried it all the way out to the living room where he held it up to me, cocked his head, and said, "Mama?" When I took it from him he reached his hands up and tousled his hair, all the while staring at me with his big, round eyes pleading for me to spray his hair.

So I did. And a big smile spread across his face as he swaggered off to show off his new hairdo.

He's impossible to say no to. 

Kure Beach and Fort Fisher Aquarium

The children woke up at the crack of dawn, of course, so I took them out of the tent and we trooped off to the bathrooms together. Then we had breakfast. And then because there was little else to do we went for a walk, which Rachel said was her favourite part of camping.

She must have had rather low expectations because we only walked around the loop of our campsite a couple of times. I could have taken them hiking I suppose, but it had rained all night, Miriam forgot to pack shoes, and I didn't want to take all three kids out in the woods by myself. Not only that but my sense of direction is, as I mentioned in yesterday's post, not all that great, which is why I only felt safe sticking to the road. The kids enjoyed it, however, and were impressed each time I led them back to the campsite.

We woke Daddy up at 8:00. He got up and ready for the day and then we started striking camp, rolling up our soggy tent (and soggy everything) in haphazard fashion, knowing we'd have to just set it all up again when we got home so it could dry out.

Miriam drew her name (and some other "words") in the dirt and wanted me to take a picture like the one I took of Rachel at the beach the day before:

Fort Fisher

While I'm not going to argue that this is the perfect time in the school year to take a break—it's not too hot and not too cold and we were just starting to resist waking up in time to catch the bus—I will complain that it's kind of a lame time for Andrew to not be on break. So though he has classes, which means we're stuck in town all week long, we decided to cram as much as possible into the weekends. After all, this is like the "rest" of our summer break.

On Friday we were supposed to get up and go to a friend's birthday party before leaving for Wilmington. However, it was also raining when we woke up, so the party was postponed. We made a split-second decision to get everything ready and loaded up before Andrew left for campus so that we could just go with him. It would save us about an hour of down time. So we scrambled to get all five of us ready to go and packed into the van.

Our neighbour saw us packing and asked where we were headed.

"We're going camping!" the girls excitedly explained.

"For a week?" she asked, noting the amount of stuff we'd already crammed into our van.

"No. Just for one night," we told her.

She giggled at us, a lovely, lilting laugh.

"You sure are taking a lot of stuff!"

And that was true. But we were packing for five people! We had the tent, our bedding (including a pack'n'play and an air mattress), a box of non-perishables, a cooler of fridge-worthy food, a cooler of water, multiple flashlights, a ukulele, a hiking backpack, firewood, camping chairs, and other camping necessities. Further, because we were planning on going to the beach we had all of our beach hud, too: swim suits, towels, boogie boards, and so forth.

I think that if we had been going camping for a week we would have brought about the same stuff, adding only a few extra changes of clothes and some more food.

We hung out on Duke campus while Daddy went to class. He left us in the parking lot while he ran to class (we were running a little late) and I sat and fed Benjamin while the girls read. After Benjamin finished nursing we made our way to the Sanford building, trying to follow the directions Daddy had given us. Unfortunately, my sense of direction slash my ability to remember verbal directions is a little weak. I didn't watch enough Dora as a child.

"We have to go through the soccer field," I recalled. "And then..."

If only Dora had been around when I was younger I would have remembered what to do next. What happened instead was this:

"And then we go this way...I guess."

I figured that we'd eventually either get to the Sanford building or we'd get so incredibly lost that Andrew would call us when he got out of class, ask us where we were, and bring the van around to collect us. I finally admitted to the girls, who were complaining about having to walk so far, that I was a little bit lost.

"I have no idea where we are," I said.

"Don't worry, Mom," Rachel reassured me. "Duke's a loop...I think."

The good news is that we eventually did make it to the Sanford building. Andrew laughed when I told him the way we'd come, but I told him just to be impressed that I'd made it there at all. We seriously had time to go to the bathroom and walk along a wall before he came out of class (that's how long we'd been walking), and then we were on our way.

We made it to Wilmington—and beyond to Fort Fisher—in record time. No stops.

Even more miraculous was that all the kids—even (and perhaps especially) Benjamin—stayed dry! I suppose we pretty much expect the girls to not wet their pants on road trips anymore, but we do expect them to beg to pull over so we can find a restroom. Benjamin, however, surprised us with his ability to "hold it." After his yeast infection fiasco, I started potty training in full force and he's seemed to pick it up fairly well. We were all so excited for him (he stayed dry the entire day)!

Twenty-nine!

It's Andrew's birthday and what does he do? He gets up with the girls in the morning and warns them not to wake me unless the house is on fire, that's what he does. That's the mark of a good man, right there!

He left for school and the girls were completely self-reliant.

Benjamin and I didn't wake up until 10:30! And then I was a bit in a panic because we had so much to do to get ready for Daddy to come home. We had to bake a cake! We had to clean the house! We had to wrap his present! Yes, singular—present. I'm terrible at gifts so this year Andrew got one, which he bought for himself a while ago and which I confiscated and said, "Ha! We're giving this to you for your birthday!" It's not that I'm not a thoughtful person it's just that I'm, in general, a lousy gift-thinker-upper.

But I'm not a lousy cake-maker, so that was our main project for the day.

Rachel was so excited to make this cake. She was dreaming it up all day yesterday. It would be a Duke cake! And it would be circle! And it would have two layers! And twenty-nine candles!

Twenty-nine?! How did he/we ever get this old?

We met when we were fifteen—me just barely fifteen and he nearly sixteen—which means that we've now known each other for nearly half our lives. That's crazy to think about! Not to mention that twenty-nine is a scary number in general—it's just one away from thirty!

Rachel showed Andrew her draft of the cake. She drew twenty-nine candles on it, just for him.

"Whoa!" he gasped. "How many candles are on that cake?! How old do you think I am?!"

"There are twenty-nine candles," Rachel proudly proclaimed. "You're twenty-nine years old!"

"There aren't twenty-nine candles on that cake!" Andrew said. "There can't be! It looks like there's at least sixty!"

She counted them for him. You're welcome to count them as well. There are, in fact, twenty-nine of them and those twenty-nine candles certainly make the cake look mighty crowded!

Little Artist

Miriam loves to draw. It's her go-to activity throughout the day; she draws whenever she's unsure of what to do (which some might call boredom but fortunately my kids haven't (yet) begun using the phrase "I'm bored," and with any luck we'll keep it that way).

She draws before breakfast while she's waiting for someone to help her. She draws before getting dressed. She draws while I'm nursing Benjamin. She draws while I'm reading chapter books aloud. She draws anywhere and everywhere.

Lately she's been drawing a lot of birds. Her birds have legs and wings, like ordinary birds do, but they also have a set of arms, just for fun. "Bird legs are straight," she'll explain, "But their arms are squiggly."

By Miriam (September 18, 2013)

I was hoping this stage would never end, but Rachel lectured Miriam about proper bird anatomy yesterday. Today Miriam drew a picture for Andrew. She put a bird on it, a bird with no arms.

It broke my heart a little bit.

Before bed

Before the kids went to bed last night they wanted a horsey ride from Daddy. Technically, I suppose just the girls wanted a horsey ride. Benjamin just wanted one of their water bottles. He lives for bedtime simply because that's the time the water bottles are distributed.

Museum mania

This morning the girls and I were having breakfast together just as Daddy was getting ready to head out the door.

"Hooray! No school!" I cheered. "What should we do today?"

"We can go to the pool if it gets hot," Rachel suggested.

"I'm not sure it's going to get hot today," I said. Fall weather is here already—today's high was forecast to be 73°F, which seems comparatively chilly. But all you have to do is look at the weather in Canada for 73° to look nice and balmy—it snowed in Pincher Creek today.

"There's the ML and S," Andrew said.

"The Museum of Life and Science?" Rachel said almost immediately. "Let's do that!"

"How'd you figure that out?" Andrew asked her.

"Because BYU means Brigham Young University," she said, rolling her eyes as if it should be obvious.

We can no longer spell to keep things secret. Now we can't use acronyms. What's left?!

My friend Emily pointed out that we could use pig latin. That will hold the kids off from decoding our secret conversations for a while. Perhaps it will even give use enough time to master a shared second language (our language skills don't have a lot of overlap, unfortunately).

So, Andrew left for school and the kids and I started to get ready for a day at the museum.

Rachel felt like it's been a long time since she'd last been there (and it has been), so she got to pick where to go first. She chose the dinosaur walk.

Fall break is here!

Today was the last day of school before Rachel's fall intercession. At home we spent the day reading books, playing with blocks and cars and princesses, and doing laundry.

Benjamin is obsessed with animals lately. I think that's fairly normal at this age. Sometimes I get a little anxious about his language development because it seems like the girls had a bunch of words under their belt by this age and Benjamin simply doesn't. He'll say mama and dada. He'll occasionally specifically ask for a nuh-nuh (a nursing session). And that's about all. He isn't interested in signing things—except, apparently, "fish," which he picked up on at a friend's house, but that fits with his love of animals.

Eating

Feeding a family is exhausting.

You have to go grocery shopping. Alternatively you can grow your own food. Both are a lot of work.

You have to think of what to make.

You have to actually make the meal.

And then you have to clean up.

And by the time you clean up it's nearly time to start the process all over again (minus the grocery shopping and planning, but cooking and cleaning are monumental tasks alone).

I'm so lucky to have Andrew, who cooks as often as he can and who does most of the grocery shopping, because I find feeding people really overwhelming. Especially little people.

Why do they want to eat all the time? And why are they so messy?

Benjamin is an especially messy eater right now, which means that clean up can be especially grueling. Andrew threw him in the tub after dinner tonight while the girls and I skyped with my parents because Benjamin was that messy. Black bean burritos will do that to you.



He finished with his bath in plenty of time to wave (and wave and wave) at my parents, who obediently waved back. The wave of a baby is a powerful thing.

Bikes

Yesterday after the pig pickin' we spent a long and frustrating afternoon trying to figure out how to ride our bikes. Rachel was the most frustrated of all and I was in close second. She would yell at me every time she fell off her bike as if it were my fault that gravity is a thing. Eventually I told her that bike riding time was over and then I went inside and told Daddy that we'll be looking into training wheels.

He swears that it's possible to learn how to ride a bike without them. I think he's failing to calculate the possibility that [she inherited my complete lack of coordination] into that equation.



She wants to ride and she just can't. In fact, she's never successfully pedaled a bicycle in her life. That little pink tricycle between Rachel and Benjamin? That was a gift from her Auntie Kelli (slash a hand-me-down from her twin cousins) for her third birthday.

Rachel never pedaled it. Even though her feet reached the pedals she'd always just sit on it and walk it along with her feet.

This bike that Benjamin's trying out?



We picked it up from craigslist super cheap. Rachel can pedal it now that she's six but she looks a little ridiculous on it. She rode it for a bit at three and four and five but never well. Not at all. But the fact that she can ride it now is encouraging. It makes me think that if we just popped some training wheels on her bike she'd at least have mobility—and when the neighbourhood kids are out riding their bikes and scooters on the street she could actually join in the fun.



Miriam's not great at biking either, but this fact is made less embarrassing by the simple trait of being three. She can pedal backward (fortunately this bike doesn't have brakes so pedaling backward makes the bike move backward instead of stopping it) but really struggles going forward. She doesn't even care yet because the four-year-old across the street is still stuck on a tricycle, too.

I don't think I should be the one to teach my kids how to ride a bike. I'm sure one day they'll get it but I don't think it will be under my tutelage. Rachel wants to learn so bad but she's just plain awful at. She doesn't even have to be on the bike to fall off of it. She just has to look at it wrong and it will knock her over and jump on top of her. She falls over all the time. This makes her grumpy and it makes me grumpy and grumpy people simply don't learn well (I'm pretty sure that's been scientifically proven).

To her credit, Rachel keeps on trying. With her tenacity, I'm sure one day things will click. But until that day comes she might be rocking a new set of training wheels.