Letters from the elementary school across the street arrived in today's mail for Medium and Small Fries.
My babies are going to kindergarten in three weeks.
I can hardly believe it.
They are in the same class, which I specifically requested, since I know they're probably not ready to be separated at school yet.
I don't know that I'm ready for them to go to school.
If you don't mind, I'm going to go sit over there until I get this huge speck of sentiment out of my eyes....
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Saturday, August 4, 2012
3-Day Single Mom Recap
Nighttime accident requiring washing of sheets/blankets just washed a few days ago? Check.
Sick child? Check.
Child who stuck finger in a running fan? Check.
Child who is pursuing a doctorate in tattling? Check.
Company for two nights? Check. (Good to have you, Mitzy!)
Brand-new wasp house in my mailbox today that wasn't there yesterday? Check.
Sick child? Check.
Child who stuck finger in a running fan? Check.
Child who is pursuing a doctorate in tattling? Check.
Company for two nights? Check. (Good to have you, Mitzy!)
Brand-new wasp house in my mailbox today that wasn't there yesterday? Check.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Today's Adventures
At quarter of six this morning, Hubby woke me up just before he left the house on his trip...to tell me that Medium had had an accident during the night, and he'd gotten her cleaned up but hadn't stripped the bed. So Medium climbed into bed wearing just panties and we both went back to sleep.
It was obvious when Small joined us in bed that she was still running a pretty hefty fever, so I mentally penciled in a visit to the walk-in clinic.
The normally staid PA that we saw there was the most animated I've ever seen him. It was comical. The man should have gone into pediatrics; he was that good with Small, who was NOT happy about the throat swab to run a rapid strep test (negative, which was both good and bad...good, because who wants strep, and bad, because that meant it was viral, which increased the likelihood that the other two would get this and I'd be having all kinds of fun). I've never seen him smile that much. When he saw us at the check-out, where the Fries were all getting stickers, they giggled over his gruff-yet-humorous, "Why are you still here?"
I enforced naptime after lunch. I managed a bit of one myself, even after texting back and forth with Mitzy about her arrival time tonight and what our plans were after the girls were in bed.
Made a quick run to the pharmacy after I got dinner in the oven, where the kids amused themselves with asking a zillion questions, and I found myself dumbing down the process of photosynthesis and oxygen release to explain to Medium that trees didn't breath for us, but because they take bad stuff out and release good stuff, they help us breathe.
Dinner was thankfully a hit, and Jester & Mitzy's arrival was even more of a hit.
The kids are in bed, and the three of us are watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
Not a bad day, I suppose.
"Oh, look. More desert."
It was obvious when Small joined us in bed that she was still running a pretty hefty fever, so I mentally penciled in a visit to the walk-in clinic.
The normally staid PA that we saw there was the most animated I've ever seen him. It was comical. The man should have gone into pediatrics; he was that good with Small, who was NOT happy about the throat swab to run a rapid strep test (negative, which was both good and bad...good, because who wants strep, and bad, because that meant it was viral, which increased the likelihood that the other two would get this and I'd be having all kinds of fun). I've never seen him smile that much. When he saw us at the check-out, where the Fries were all getting stickers, they giggled over his gruff-yet-humorous, "Why are you still here?"
I enforced naptime after lunch. I managed a bit of one myself, even after texting back and forth with Mitzy about her arrival time tonight and what our plans were after the girls were in bed.
Made a quick run to the pharmacy after I got dinner in the oven, where the kids amused themselves with asking a zillion questions, and I found myself dumbing down the process of photosynthesis and oxygen release to explain to Medium that trees didn't breath for us, but because they take bad stuff out and release good stuff, they help us breathe.
Dinner was thankfully a hit, and Jester & Mitzy's arrival was even more of a hit.
The kids are in bed, and the three of us are watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
Not a bad day, I suppose.
"Oh, look. More desert."
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Another thing I never thought I'd say...
"Why is there jelly in your eye?"
To Medium, who was in the kitchen, and who shouted the obvious complaint.
To Medium, who was in the kitchen, and who shouted the obvious complaint.
If you'll excuse me...
I'm going to go over there, sit in the corner, and whimper.
I have a raging headache, Medium Fry is pretending to mew like Mika while she and Large Fry hunt him down (poor Mika), and Small Fry just made the thermometer beep at 100.8.
And my brother has decided he wants to complicate matters.
I'd go scream, but it will hurt my head.
I'll mainline Dr Pepper and take a migraine pill instead.
I have a raging headache, Medium Fry is pretending to mew like Mika while she and Large Fry hunt him down (poor Mika), and Small Fry just made the thermometer beep at 100.8.
And my brother has decided he wants to complicate matters.
I'd go scream, but it will hurt my head.
I'll mainline Dr Pepper and take a migraine pill instead.
I am not going to survive.
Hubby leaves at the crack of ugly early tomorrow and will be gone for three days on a beach retreat with the teens.
If today's behavior is the way the Fries are going to behave for the next three days, there's going to be massive losses in privileges, and probably a second Sunday in a row of being stuck in bed with a migraine.
Mitzy, are you sure you have to go to this school stuff? You can't just hang out with me for three days?
If today's behavior is the way the Fries are going to behave for the next three days, there's going to be massive losses in privileges, and probably a second Sunday in a row of being stuck in bed with a migraine.
Mitzy, are you sure you have to go to this school stuff? You can't just hang out with me for three days?
There I was...
I had innocently gone upstairs to get a bandaid for a small cut on my thumb...and found the girls playing dress-up...
...and found myself pressed into service as wedding photographer. Which was kind of odd, since I'd heard Large Fry say something to her sisters about getting a baby for the anniversary (it's been on their minds ever since our wedding anniversary last week), but these are my kids, and oddity is really unsurprising.
So.
"Mommy, take our pictewre! We'wre at da wedding!" Small enthused.
Small Fry was wearing a dress we'd gotten as a hand-me-down several years ago, when it was ridiculously big on any of the girls but Large had thought it was so pretty that we took it anyway for the expressed purpose of playing dress-up. (It's still too big for any of them to wear it for anything other than dress-up.)
Medium Fry wasn't wearing anything extra, but she was helping Large Fry "get dressed." Large had pulled on a stretchy lace child's full slip, which was probably too small for her when she was half her current size (no idea how she didn't rip it when she put it on). It barely reached Large's hips. Medium had just thrown the Batman cape, which we'd gotten from Hubby's sister-in-law two Thanksgivings ago (Medium had fallen in love with it), over Large Fry's head and was tugging it down to her waist to serve as a train. Large's pink doll blanket that Gramma had made for last Christmas was tucked in front as the skirt.
It appeared that Medium was to be the FOTB, Large the bride, and Small the MOTB.
My stomach quietly griped that it was still waiting on Cheerios or something (the kids had already had breakfast), and Medium was still fussing over Large's ensemble.
Finally, I insisted that, if they really wanted me to play photographer, they all needed to come out into the hall, in the sunlight through the skylight, and let me take their pictures so that I could go eat.
They trooped out and Medium arranged everyone to her satisfaction, giving Small Fry the bean-filled pillowy princess backpack to wear and positioning Large in the middle between her "parents." And they called out various phrases to smile to as I snapped several pictures with my cell phone's camera.
"Now can we do silly pictewres!" Small was really not asking a question there. I dutifully took a silly-face picture.
As I headed downstairs, promising my stomach some food, and toot sweet, I heard this:
Small: Awre dese my nippewls?
Medium: No, dat's youwr fowrwawrd-facing backpack.
Small [disappointed]: Oh. I wanted dem to be my nippewls.
...and found myself pressed into service as wedding photographer. Which was kind of odd, since I'd heard Large Fry say something to her sisters about getting a baby for the anniversary (it's been on their minds ever since our wedding anniversary last week), but these are my kids, and oddity is really unsurprising.
So.
"Mommy, take our pictewre! We'wre at da wedding!" Small enthused.
Small Fry was wearing a dress we'd gotten as a hand-me-down several years ago, when it was ridiculously big on any of the girls but Large had thought it was so pretty that we took it anyway for the expressed purpose of playing dress-up. (It's still too big for any of them to wear it for anything other than dress-up.)
Medium Fry wasn't wearing anything extra, but she was helping Large Fry "get dressed." Large had pulled on a stretchy lace child's full slip, which was probably too small for her when she was half her current size (no idea how she didn't rip it when she put it on). It barely reached Large's hips. Medium had just thrown the Batman cape, which we'd gotten from Hubby's sister-in-law two Thanksgivings ago (Medium had fallen in love with it), over Large Fry's head and was tugging it down to her waist to serve as a train. Large's pink doll blanket that Gramma had made for last Christmas was tucked in front as the skirt.
It appeared that Medium was to be the FOTB, Large the bride, and Small the MOTB.
My stomach quietly griped that it was still waiting on Cheerios or something (the kids had already had breakfast), and Medium was still fussing over Large's ensemble.
Finally, I insisted that, if they really wanted me to play photographer, they all needed to come out into the hall, in the sunlight through the skylight, and let me take their pictures so that I could go eat.
They trooped out and Medium arranged everyone to her satisfaction, giving Small Fry the bean-filled pillowy princess backpack to wear and positioning Large in the middle between her "parents." And they called out various phrases to smile to as I snapped several pictures with my cell phone's camera.
 |
| Medium (FOTB), Large (Bride), Small (MOTB) |
"Now can we do silly pictewres!" Small was really not asking a question there. I dutifully took a silly-face picture.
As I headed downstairs, promising my stomach some food, and toot sweet, I heard this:
Small: Awre dese my nippewls?
Medium: No, dat's youwr fowrwawrd-facing backpack.
Small [disappointed]: Oh. I wanted dem to be my nippewls.
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