The Dancing Conspiracy

I miss soccer.

Okay, so maybe I do not miss it during this ridiculously rainy spring, but I miss the simplicity of the sport.  As I parent, I know that I will pay for a uniform and shoes, pay for the season, and eventually throw some money in for a gift for the volunteer coach.

Dance, on the other hand, is a whole other story. 

We paid for the dance class in December, when Nick bought Abby the package for Christmas.  He also bought an outfit, tights, and shoes.  Great.  Not too bad.

Then I realized how short of a time that money got us.  Before I knew it, it was payment time again.  I could not believe the amount they expected for five hours.  And of course my energetic daughter went through two pairs of tights at that point. 

I love that Target sells them a lot cheaper than the dance studio.

Once Abby was officially hooked and looking forward to her recital in the summer, I found out that we had to buy her costume.  And it was not cheap. 

We were finally in the home stretch, knowing one more big payment was coming up, when I began to hear rumors of ticket sales for the recital (or, as they call it, The Showcase).

Seriously?  I have to buy tickets to watch my daughter dance for three minutes?  I never had to pay extra to watch a soccer game.

Oh, and this is my favorite part.  In order to purchase the tickets, the balance for the rest of the year had to be paid in full.  So, I had to pay money so that I would be allowed to pay more money.  Sure.

There cannot be more, right?  Wrong.

Every girl has to have her hair done the same way and have on the same make-up.  They have little bags of supplies at the front desk-for a price.  Thankfully, the make-up they are using is Mary Kay, which I sell.  Ha-ha!  Got you dance studio!  You will not receive my $3 for the sample make-up kit!

My favorite sentence to come out of Abby's mouth this past week?  "I like dance, but I am ready for a break and want to play soccer in the fall."

Bless you child.

Noah Update

I have no idea what is going on with this kid, but Noah is taking off like crazy.

It all started when he began sitting up before he was six months old.  Like, barely falling over, just sitting there, happily playing.

Okay, that is super nice for me so I accepted this change.

However, now this guy thinks he can go anywhere he wants to.  My computer cord is way across the room?  No problem.  He just rolls over and over again until he gets it.  His favorite toy behind him?  He just crawls backwards.

Okay, so the crawling backwards thing is rather amusing.  He gets up on all fours, rocks back and forth, desperately trying to go forward, then eventually pushes himself backwards across the room.  Hilarious.

If this child sees something he wants, he will find a way to get there.  Suddenly, his little area of safe play is not good enough.  The rest of my non-child-proof home is calling out to him.

Oh, and for an added bonus, he started pulling himself up on things.  Yep. That would be him getting up on his knees, trying to reach for more toys.  I love the look he gives me-"Who, me?"

Noah also finds absolutely everything hysterical.  I do not remember my first two babies smiling this much.  I am super grateful he is so happy and hope it lasts forever.

All I am waiting for now is the rain to stop so we can get out and take adventures together while the other two are at school.  Come on, sun, I know you exist.  Please bring some warm weather our way so that Noah can meet the bike trail that we will take lovely walks on.

Other People's Children

This is for you, Kacie.  My sweet, camp friend who reads my blog to procrastinate on studying for her college finals.

I usually write about the witty things that my children say or do, but this time, I have two fun things from other families.  Yes, other families are funny, too.

-One of the doctors that I used to work for had this amusing story to share.  His son, who was recently potty trained, was missing some underwear.  Not from his drawer, but from his body.  When his dad asked him where his underwear was, he suddenly remembered that he had an accident at the neighbor's house and that he had left his wet underwear there.

Embarrassing enough, yet?  Oh, it gets better.

When his dad asked him where in the house the underwear was, he replied, "Don't worry, Dad, I hid them real good!"

The neighbors have yet to find the underwear.

-While at Caleb's preschool Easter party, one of the girls in his class was hovering over Noah.  She is African American and her parents had a baby boy shortly after Noah was born.  While she was cooing over Noah, I said, "You have a baby brother just like this, don't you?"

She looked at me and said, "Yeah, but he's not white!" 

Whoops.  My bad, Kamari.

Kids are fun.

Where Is My Little Girl?

I do not know exactly when it happened, but suddenly my baby girl is no longer little.

I am not referring to her actual size, which has also grown.  Many people cannot believe she is only in kindergarten.  Looks like she will be taking after me.   Hopefully the boys do, too.  Nick has this fear that Abby will tower over him, while the boys will be short.  In all honestly, I think he married me in hopes that he would have tall, athletic sons.

But, I digress.

Little Abby has gone from a cute, little girl to a kid.  Her days of being a toddler are way in the past.  But, I have still been holding on to my little preschooler who played with toys and watched Noggin.  That girl no longer exists. 

My daughter now reads chapter books by herself and no longer needs me to read to her.  Her bookshelves are filled with American Girl books, her Bibles and my old collection of Little House on the Prairie books.  Her Dora, Olivia, and Berenstein Bears books are now on Caleb's shelf or traded in to Half Price Books. 

She no longer wants to flip to Noggin or PBS Kids, but comes home asking about Hannah Montana (which I still have refused to let come into our house, considering who that role model is today).  The other day, she mentioned how her friends at school consider Clifford to be a baby show and now she agrees.  True, the girl has not watched it or read those books in awhile, but I wonder if she were to still enjoy it if not for the peer pressure.

My little girl has been known for changing her clothes in front of everyone, no matter where she is.  Just ask anyone in our family or circle of friends.  She has always dropped her drawers and run around.  Now, she is suddenly aware of needing privacy and cautiously locks her bedroom door to keep out her brother.

Okay, so I am thankful for that part of growing up.

Her movie picks are Anne of Green Gables (love that), Annie and the latest kid movies to come out.  She picks colors and patterns for her clothes instead of Disney characters.  Her princess dress up clothes have been passed on to her younger friend.  She willingly parted with many toys for the latest yard sale because "those are baby toys" and she "doesn't play those kinds of things anymore."

Sniff, sniff.

I know this is part of life.  It just feels like it took forever for her to get to this age and all of a sudden, I am aware of how quickly the rest of our time with her is going to go.  I am suddenly seeing her first kiss, driving, prom, graduation, college, moving out, marriage...

She is only six.  She is only six.  She is only six.

While I watch Miss Abigail grow up way too quickly, I will enjoy every moment that I can.

Six Months

I just had Noah, right?  Seriously, it was just 10-10-10 and I was in a very quick, yet very painful labor.

Oh wait, that was six months ago.  My goodness.

Well, this boy is growing like crazy.  He started sitting up a couple of weeks ago.  And, as every mother knows, that spells FREEDOM!!!  He can now play with toys and not require me to sit at his side, staring at him.

(Okay, so I am typing this while sitting next to him as he plays because he still likes to cry every time I leave the room.  This is just a phase.  This is just a phase.  This is just a phase.)

He is also on the move.  He rolls around, which is fun during the waking hours, but not fun when he does it in his crib and gets stuck.  Amazing how he can move from his belly to his back so quickly when he wants to, but in the middle of his nap...not so much.

Noah is eating everything in sight, forever drooling, and now stinking up the house.  And he still has this one random piece of hair that curls.  I have no idea what to do with it-it just kind of hangs to the side, looking goofy. 

Do you know what is so cute?  When a baby blows raspberries.  Do you know what is not cute?  When a baby blows raspberries while eating.

He is also sharing a room with his big brother and surprisingly, that is going well.  They are both great sleepers and do not keep each other up at night.  Caleb literally fell out of the bed the other night, let out a huge cry and Noah did not budge. 

Love this kid.

Well, Noah is now grabbing my arm with his fingernails (I swear, they grow an inch every night), reminding me that it is almost his morning nap time.  I will gladly oblige to his demand. 

Crepes

Caleb, in his attempt to get a glass of juice before bed, came up with a great reason for his request.

Caleb-"I really need some juice in case I get the crepes again."
Us-"The what?"
Caleb-"You know, the crepes."
Us-"Oh, you mean croup?"
Caleb-"Yes, the croups.  I need juice in case I get the croups again."

We could not stop laughing.  As a huge fan of crepes, I do not think I can ever eat them again without thinking of Caleb and his "croups."

The Transition

It has been six months and I am still noticing a transition time in our family with the arrival of Noah. 

I have heard friends say that it is harder to go from one to two kids than it is to go from two to three.  I would have to disagree-strongly.

Maybe it is because of the four year gap since babyhood, but I find that I am constantly running around to help each kid with their particular needs, while failing miserably at every one.

Let us take the hour of everyone getting ready for school in the morning.  It consists of Abby helping get breakfast for her and Caleb, while I feed Noah.  Then it is Abby getting herself dressed while I dress Noah and usually Caleb, who suddenly finds himself incapable of dressing himself.  If I spend too much time fixing Abby's hair, Noah gets mad and Caleb absolutely decides that he cannot do a thing to get himself ready.  If I spend all of my time with Caleb, Noah again gets mad and I suddenly realize that I have not said one word to Abby since "Good morning." 

And this is all after I have been up for an hour before anyone else, laying out breakfast, pouring juice, putting the vitamins out, packing lunches and snacks, making sure folders, permission slips and share items are in the backpacks, and laying out clothes.

I try to have quality time with Caleb when he gets home from school, but after I make lunch for him and Noah, feed Noah, clean up the mess that is Noah, and attempt to clean up from lunch (which usually does not happen because Noah is under the opinion that he deserves 100% of my focus when he is awake), it is almost nap time and I have missed those moments that Caleb needs.

Naptime is over (i.e. I catch up on all of the stuff that I did not get done while Noah was awake), and again, instead of having some quality time with Caleb before his sister gets home, I have to spend that time feeding Noah.  As I am cleaning him up, on cue, Abby walks in the door.  Then it is homework and making dinner, and holding a fussy baby who likes to be a crab between the hours of four and seven.  Suddenly, it is bath and bed time, and I have yet to sit and read a book with Caleb.  Or Abby.  The 4th grade reading level girl reads chapter books to herself, but I know we both miss the times of reading together.

Each child deserves 100% of me, but I can only give them a third of that.  No, correction-a fourth of that.  I do have a husband who needs me, too.  And how often he gets forgotten in that equation. 

I have no idea how people with more children do it.  God must give them super powers so that they can split themselves into multiple beings who can be the perfect parents to each child.

In the meantime, this imperfect parent will continue to strive to be there for my kids and their individual needs.  Someday they will appreciate it. 

You know, when they have their own kids.