the terrible twos threes

I have never had much trouble from my two year olds -- it seems like they are just cute and fun to be around, curious about the world and learning new things every day.  I actually really like three year olds, too, there is just one three year old in particular who is causing all manner of distress around here and I am fairly certain that it has more to do with a certain plump baby than an age, but we don't want anyone carrying around that heavy burden of guilt, so we'll lay the blame at the feet of normal developmental stages.  I really had it better than I deserved, with Phin often playing for hours with his trains or legos, or just bopping around whatever I was doing, but then his world was turned upside down and a mere two weeks later all of his playmates went to school. It seems like he never quite recovered and we've had a bit of a rough autumn as I get used to my new boy while he figures out his place in the universe.  Last week while I was nursing the baby, it was very quiet for quite some time.  I hoped for the best and decided not to worry about what was going on, but the best was not to be.  When I went to Phin's room he had gotten into a lip gloss that I had given to Lucy only the day before and squished it out liberally all around the room -- on bedspreads, clothes, and of course, his endearing little face.  Well, it wasn't endearing enough because I got mad!  Really mad.  Far more than it deserved (although it didn't come out of the fabric items, so it was fairly serious, right?).  There were tears on both sides and I felt terrible.  I hate when I lose my temper!!!  What is my problem?!?  Deep breath.  So the very next day I had to feed the baby again.  A few times even.  And you'll never guess what happened -- almost the exact same thing!  This time he had stacked a stool on a chair (he had to work harder since I had given the girls a lecture on keeping their things out of his reach) and gotten into a cute little make-up kit that Ibby had gotten for her birthday.  It was even more exciting because there were several fun colors involved, including a lovely bright blue.  Well, I got angry again and while I was stomping around trying to clean up the mess I kept thinking to myself, and probably vocalizing a smidgen with some nice low muttering, "Why oh why doesn't he ever learn?  Doesn't he remember that he got into trouble yesterday (and lots of other times recently)?  Why is he having the same reaction (making a mess) to the same stimulus (tempting bright, gooey things) even though I have made myself more than perfectly clear that that is not okay?!  Didn't the bad feelings of being punished make any headway into his consciousness?"  And then I completely stopped in my tracks as I had an epiphany, as it were.   I realized that I never learn either.  For years I have been getting mad at my kids about stupid things and then feeling terrible afterward.  Why haven't those pangs of regret and remorse changed me into more of the person that I want to be?  The kind, long-suffering, ever patient, yet fun-loving, madonna?  I don't know!  I do think I am better than I used to be, but I still understood, for that moment anyway, that I can't expect a mischievous, slightly bored and very displaced, little boy to learn all of those lessons and be more mature than his mother, can I?  So I am determined to do better and over the past couple of days since we've gotten out the Christmas things and he has undone vignettes, relieved nutcrackers of their swords, smashed glass ornaments, and shattered a snow globe, you'll be happy to hear that I didn't even bat an eye -- they're just twitching a tiny bit.

photo up(over)load

I've been remiss in posting pictures of our little Archie so I'll try to catch up a little bit here. 
::t - 5 days; 41 weeks pregnant

 ::not the best picture, but you can see that he is tongue tied

 ::four days old

 ::seven days old

 ::eleven days old

 ::two weeks old

 ::three weeks old

 ::he's always thought he was big enough to hold his head -- from the first day!

 ::four weeks old

 ::blessing day

 ::five weeks old

 ::six weeks old

 ::seven weeks old; matching boys -- I bought the tiny one at goodwill and my friend said she had a matching shirt Phin's size in her closet -- perfect!

 ::I love how Phin is still trying to smile even though the baby's crying is stressing him out!

He sleeps a lot and still makes the cute newborn purring sounds.  He is super sweet!

boys will be boys

I have a baby who likes to be held all the time.  It makes it difficult to do the important things like get on facebook and write in my blog, let alone the more trivial tasks like laundry, dishes, and brushing my teeth.  Right now he is cozied up on the boppy on my lap.  Let's hope he doesn't roll off.


I know this is my last baby (that I want anyway) so I have been going crazy buying cute baby stuff!  I'm trying to control myself, but my friend Internet knows I have a baby and keeps sending me wonderful offers that are hard to refuse.  And Internet makes it so easy to purchase the amazing deals -- usually all I have to do is press a virtual button and in a few days it shows up on my doorstep.  I didn't even have to go anywhere!  Which is good since baby doesn't really like the car because I can't hold him for a few moments -- truly nightmarish in his opinion.


I did leave the house a couple of weeks ago to add to my fluffy diaper stash.  There is a local shop in someone's house so I went over to round things out.  I was enjoying talking to the owner when another customer came in with her little boy.  He was a few months younger than Phin and was acting like what he is -- a male preschooler, but she was on his case the entire time.  She pretty much kept her mouth running the whole time she was there so I just sat down in a rocking chair to watch and wait it out.  "So I'm having a baby and I want a few newborn things.  My son won't let the baby wear his diapers so I need some more things.  Precious!  Precious boy, don't jump.  Don't jump!  We don't jump.  I was thinking of some bamboo or hemp doublers.  Coleman!  Coleman Joseph!  We don't do that. (Looking at me)  Does your son like to jump?  I'm always telling him not to jump.  I bought some of those diapers, but that is because my daughter wanted those, but they are kind of expensive so can I return them?"  Blah, blah, blah.  Okay, you can't hear her voice which is a shame because when she called her son "precious boy" it was high-pitched and very grating, but perhaps you can see that on the one hand she's allowing her children to be very controlling by even caring whether the little boy wants the baby to use his old diapers and giving into her 5 year olds daughter's wishes for buying a really expensive diaper.  On the other hand, she was being overly strict with her little boy and thought that him wanting to jump down one step was way beyond the pale.  When she asked me if Phin jumps, I managed to fit in that yes, he jumps all the time, before she went prattling on again.  After observing her unrealistic expectations with her son for a moment I asked her if she knew the gender of her next baby and she said that it is a boy.  Heaven help her poor sons!  Hopefully she'll mellow out. 


It made me wonder if I'm too lenient, but for the most part I think it's okay to let boys climb, jump off things, run their little hearts out, bat sticks at one another...  Of course, I don't like guns at all -- not even water or bubble guns -- because then they walk around talking about killing people which is really not okay with me.  Charles would improvise by bending a barbie in half and shooting with her legs and Phin mostly uses his fingers and sometimes the bike pump, so I'm still being shot at on a daily basis, but at least I'm not condoning or encouraging it, which is worth something I imagine.  Hopefully it is the super fun sound effects which drives their behavior rather than a latent desire to be rid of me.

the boysss

::Phin with his big bro

::in his bouncy seat

brotherly love

::2 weeks old

Hello Again

I was getting too depressed to write for a while. There was nothing to say or do or think beyond still being pregnant. Now we are doing much better. The baby is so sweet! His skin is impossibly soft and he has the sweetest rosebud lips. The smell of Tucks takes me back to when my other babies were born and I now realize it reminds me of falling in love. The recovery has been going smoothly, mostly because my mom is here to help. She has been doing everything and it has been wonderful to have her here. I don't remember being so tired and sore in the past, but then the first week of all of my children's lives is a blur. I hope that someday we can go back and watch the video of them as babies. It goes much too quickly!

Matthew has left for Iowa for a music festival. All of these things sound great when they are in the distant future, but then when the day arrives you realize how insane it was to plan an event for so soon after the birth of a baby. He has been practicing today, but I don't think he really feels ready. The biggest problem from our point of view here at home is that we only have one car, it is a very little car, and Charles and Ella both have places to be at the same time, I still don't know how we are going to work it, but I have very nice friends whose boys are on Charlie's team so I think it will involve them somehow.