This Is My Favorite Part

"Do I get to pack my lunch?"

2011-01-31T13:51:00.004-05:00

Big changes ahead for Connor...

Steve and I will be meeting this week with representatives from Hixson Elementary School to discuss placing him in Kindergarten within the next few weeks! We will be working to design an individual education plan for him, allowing him to socialize with his age peers and simultaneously work at an academic level that challenges him! He will stand to complete Kindergarten with the rest of his class, but be given the opportunity to do much higher level work at his pace. This is an answer to prayer!

What a far cry from five months ago are we! I am so proud of my little boy. Admittedly, I'm also a little nostalgic, since suddenly (albeit unconventionally) I find us standing at the front doors of a new chapter in childhood. I thought I had a little more time to cuddle him at home, a few months at best, but I am absolutely certain that this is best for him. He has been ready for a while now. Mommy has to let go. If Connor can handle this, so can I! Mia will also have to adjust to less playtime with her best friend. It's going to rock her little world, but in a good way. Next year, she'll be in pre-k. I know she can expect the same wonderful learning environment at HPC Preschool that has nurtured Connor to this point.

Pray for us all as we turn this page! It's exciting!

More information to come!

It's no secret.

2010-12-20T11:36:00.005-05:00

A friend of mine recently posted something on Facebook which got me going emotionally, about how increasingly impossible it is to keep the media (and the entertainment industry) from "sexing up" the minds of our children at an increasingly younger age.

My thoughts turned to our very recent family trip to Hamilton Place Mall; specifically, an incident which involved a pass by the local Victoria's Secret shop, whose "halls" were "decked" with what I can only describe as a disturbing mix of pink puppy cuteness and virtual pornography, two stories high. My kids started asking questions. I decided I needed to say something, whether my words will ever be considered by executives or no. My email follows:

I felt compelled to inform you that after years of enjoying your products, I have made the decision not to patronize Victoria's Secret anymore. My choice was largely influenced by the declining quality of product. Bras and panties I have purchased from your company have come unraveled after several washes, and I am disappointed in your methods of assembly, which obviously involve more glue than stitching. I have had to throw out several bras made by Victoria's Secret because they actually hurt to wear them; the adhesive used to put them together is considerably abrasive to skin. Lingerie I have purchased elsewhere (at MUCH more reasonable prices) has lasted me twice as long as your product. My second motivation for terminating my patronage is more personal and involves a recent conversation I was forced to have with my three-year-old after a trip to see Santa at our local mall incorporated a pass by a giant VS display. First drawn in by pink polka-dotted puppy dogs, she quickly noticed the cinema-screen sized displays of oiled-up models in jingle-bell thongs and garter belts. I understand that your primary objective is to sell lingerie, which is, by its nature, sexy. However, using TOYS as advertising material is little more than a thinly veiled ploy to lure younger and younger patrons. I am not surprised to see girls as young as twelve sporting pants at school with "PINK" printed across the buttocks. I cannot raise my daughter to accept that this is ok, so I will begin by attempting to be a better example to her. I will no longer patronize your company. I would encourage you to consider alternate forms of advertising as well as higher standards of manufacture.

Sincerely,
Amanda Medlin

Spiders.

2010-11-02T16:29:00.000-04:00

Connor's journal entries

2010-09-27T12:36:00.006-04:00

I've had multiple family requests for Connor's "blog" (his illustrated journal) to be posted here. So here you go, two fresh entries! The latter, on volcanoes, was composed just today.

We learned about two kinds of lava, one called "Pahoehoe" and another called "aa." Connor cracked up. He's been saying "aa" all day. He was fairly amused that the Romans had separate gods for everything. I think he found the concept rather excessive. I happened to have a miniature statue of Vulcan from the Birmingham attraction. Connor laughed at his bare butt. Apparently, volcanoes and Roman gods are hilarious. They really are.

Homeschool cool

2010-09-21T16:27:00.005-04:00

Some good stuff about Connor:

"Pre-homeschool" is going great. We have signed up with an online program called time4learning.com, which offers a fantastic curriculum of basic subjects (math, science, language arts, and something they refer to as "language arts extension," which is basically everything else, with loose connections to reading and grammar.). Connor spends literally hours on it if I allow him to. I've even had to cut him off and tell him no when he asks to do it on Sat. and Sun. I love how organized the whole thing is; it tracks his lessons, logs the time he spends on each subject, records his quiz scores, and even takes attendance. He's pretty much self-propelled on the whole thing, although I require that he check with me before he moves on to a new lesson, and he's not allowed to take a quiz without me there. He has access to three levels, essentially. His determined grade level (right now it's 2nd grade), the one below and the one above. I can "promote" him whenever I feel he's ready. I'd like to move him up in Language Arts, but I'm not going to do that until he's more confident with his math.

The past few days (really since we started the online curriculum) have yielded fewer tantrums, fewer wetting accidents, and better concentration at school. I won't say we're a perfect score. I won't even say it's a permanent improvement. I will say that he's trying. We had a long chat last week after a particularly hard day and he revealed to me how frustrated he was with school. He's basically been enduring the same curriculum (with minor adjustments at each level) for the past three years. He's had it. "Mom, I want to be learning about volcanoes and amphibians and weather and stuff," he said. Knowing he'd probably develop this opinion was my main objection to having him repeat pre-k. So we went in search of a happy compromise. It looks like we may have found it. I am seeing improvements in his concentration (he's been dutifully working away at a complex paint-by-numbers project I gave him over the weekend) and task-completion efforts (preschool take-home papers have all come home finished so far this week! And today at home he wrote his first "essay" on tornadoes!).

We have a long journey ahead of us still. I'm aware of that. But I am encouraged. Further testing is scheduled, and maybe that'll give us an even deeper understanding. More to come.

Now I need to get busy blogging about Miss Mimi the Magnificent! What's she up to these days? Among other things, she's my model for my "line" of boutique hairbows. I'm going to see if these things sell, and maybe I'll start a second blog, just for boutique nonsense! Oh now I'm just getting crazy.

B is for Badditude

2010-08-26T16:16:00.008-04:00

It's been a trying day in the Medlin household. Our oldest lives for show-and-tell day. His class is working its way thru the alphabet one week at a time and this week it's "B." Bring something to class on Thursday that starts with the letter B. Connor informed me on Thursday of LAST WEEK that he was going to bring Boba Fett from his Star Wars collection. I mean he was excited. Last night I made sure Mr. Fett was sitting on our kitchen table, waiting for his ride to preschool stardom. This morning, he wasn't there. I don't know what happened in the hours between, but I'm pretty sure the story involves a young man who was so bloomin' excited to bring Boba Fett on B day, he couldn't help but carry him around a little more before bedtime. At this point, we were more than a little late for school; I offered him several alternatives which only made him wail a little louder each time. We went to school empty-handed. A very sad day.

Apparently, frustration continued to follow my child after I dropped him off, because upon my return I was informed that he'd refused to participate in show-and-tell at all. Fine. Kinda saw that coming. Then at clean-up time, he'd thrown a pair of scissors and narrowly missed a classmate. Whoa. He'd been angry because he was told it was time to clean up. If this had been the first time he's exhibited behavior like this, I'd have been irritated but consolable. It's not, though. This isn't even the first time this week he's exhibited behavior like this. It's not the second time this week. In fact, this is the third tantrum that's been reported to me by a teacher of his since Sunday. Yesterday he threw a chair instead of scissors.

Just two weeks ago, as the school year began, I worried. I worried as I dropped him off in his preschool classroom, that I was doing him a terrible disservice by retaining him in pre-k while the rest of his peers of comparable age go off to Kindergarten. Academically, he is functioning several grades ahead of where he should be. Why would I want to widen that gap even further by waiting another year to put him in elementary school? Steve and I had a very meaningful and detailed meeting last winter with his teachers to discuss the best plan for him in the coming school year, and at the time, we decided he'd best benefit from another year of maturation before "big kid school" began. We opted to place him back in preschool, knowing we'd meet with a certain level of controversy from some well-meaning friends and family members. We heard "Well, it's obvious he's just bored in school. He's not being challenged enough; there's the boy's problem!" Some of what I saw reflected that, granted, but was it the only problem? And entire summer has passed. he's since had a birthday. Steve and I saw a bit of improvement, fewer tantrums, better cooperation at bedtimes...baby steps, but improvement. Then school started back. Suddenly we found ourselves back at Square One. He's back to the same antics of lashing out when he's angry, digging his heels in at bedtime, and screaming at us. All summer long, he picked out his own clothes and dressed himself in the mornings and at night. Now I pretty much have to sit on him to get him to do it. He can't even remember to stay seated and finish a meal. The words "attention deficit" have flashed in my mind, but I refuse to entertain that. Not at this point.

Still, a five-year-old should have a better hold on his impulses than he does. He only participates in class activities when he's in the mood, he hardly ever completes an assignment, and he has a terrible time transitioning from one activity to the next...There's such a gap between his intellectual acuity and his emotional maturity, it's hindering his ability to function, both at home and at school, and even at church. He's now the oldest in his class and yet he remains the most immature. Two weeks later, my worry swings in the opposite direction: will a year be enough to cultivate self-discipline in him?

Kick me in the pants

2010-08-14T17:18:00.009-04:00

Geez.

I am not worthy to call myself a blogger. What has happened to my drive to write drivel? By now my readers must be starved for a bit of my wit and wisdom. How torturous. I can only imagine.

Ok, really.

Let's start simply. My babies are growing up. I don't like it. Case in point:

2007

2010

I will never again photo both my dumplings on this wall. It's their last year at preschool together. Kindergarten next fall or bust. I mean that. Yipes.

I submit Item Two for your consideration:

BEFORE:

AFTER:

The nerve of my baby. For the first time since beginning our parenting journey in May 2005, there are no cribs in use at the Medlin house. Mia's now lies in forlorn pieces, ready to be stored in the garage. Connor's now belongs to this guy:

Who is that guy? He's Teagan, the new Medlin grandbaby. Shame on him for being so cuddly and warm and small and adorable. But don't try and pull anything over on him. He may be the new guy, but he wasn't born yesterday. He was born the day before that.

Disney vacation memories

2010-06-15T16:42:00.002-04:00

Disney vacation vids completed! Six chapters for your utter enjoyment. Feast on!

What will he know in a year?

2010-05-24T16:41:00.004-04:00

ONE YEAR AGO:

Things Connor Learned When He Was Three:

to buckle his own seat belt

to bowl

to pedal a tricycle

to poke his own straw into his juice box and open his snack

to jump on one foot

vowels, syllables, long and short sounds

addition and subtraction

to pick out his own clothes

to button and snap

to make his bed

to brush his teeth

to read “big kid books” like Tiger Can't Sleep without help

to build a castle in a sandbox

to count to thirty, unassisted. To one hundred with help on the tens

that a skinned knee is not a mortal wound

to bravely try new foods, like olives

that live theatre can be even better than a movie

that planting a seed is an exercise in patience

that the dentist isn't scary

that every patch of grass is not a potty

that sometimes people we love die

That Mommy and Daddy love him, even when they're furious

that earthworms poop, just like everyone else

that he shouldn't write the word “poop” on his schoolwork

that toothpaste makes excellent fingerpaint, but it's controversial

that cartoons are make-believe

that not everything we eat is healthy

that God sees us, even though we can't see Him

that it's a good idea to wait until your sister is napping to build a block tower

that sometimes, pointing out how someone is different can hurt their feelings

that sleeping is virtually impossible when you're expecting a visit from Santa Claus

that girls love getting flowers

that grown-ups cry when they're happy and when they're sad

that peanut butter and jelly is the balm that soothes all evil

that occasionally, the best part of a football game is getting ice cream with Daddy afterwards

that nobody really knows where Heaven is

that green beans turn to liquid when they're held in your mouth for thirty minutes

that caterpillars don't bite

that box turtles don't bite either, but they pee

that God loves him more than Mommy and Daddy do. And that's a LOT

TODAY:

Things Connor Learned When He Was Four

Counting by two's and tens

Major systems in the human body (nervous, digestive, circulatory, etc)

Blood cells—type/function (the coolest stuff ever!)

How to draw a model of a DNA double-helix. And label it!

Names of planets and other spacy facts

To count to one hundred, unassisted

To add simple numbers in his head

That Darth Vader is the most awesome villain in existence.

That Mickey Mouse is a lot bigger in person

That super-fast rides at theme parks, especially ones that drop you, are best left to the seasoned thrill-seekers.

That having your own bike is the next best thing to owning a driver's license.

That a joke stops being funny when you tell it nine times in a row.

That watching a person have their blood drawn is really cool, but when it's you under that needle...well...it's possible to lose consciousness for a second or two.

That even things we can't appreciate—like mosquitoes and germs—are wonders of God. And He doesn't make mistakes.

That video games are amazing, but not as much fun as an actual light saber battle.

That Dad really is just about the coolest guy alive.

That sleeping in a makeshift hammock is far superior to sleeping in an actual bed, even if said hammock is suspended just three inches from the lower mattress of aforementioned bed.

That boys need to stick together.

That girls need protecting. Especially Moms and sisters.

That girls enjoy being told how pretty they look.

That girls will take any carefully constructed carpet battle scene and turn it into a tea party in seconds flat. And not comprehend your fury.

That most things you see in movies are fake.

That a love for chocolate does not diminish with age.

That sometimes the hardest thing is the thing you have to do.

That even grownups have to be obedient to someone.

That baby teeth don't begin to fall out until you're five or six. Shoot.

That Jesus loves Connor enough to die for him.

That no matter how big we grow, cuddles are important.

That head-wounds bleed more than they probably should, and that Mom should probably wait to examine the wound after it's been stitched up.

That underwear needs changing daily. Even if you can't tell it's dirty.

That taking time to aim before you use the toilet saves Mom a lot of yelling.

That “table manners” are really just a bunch of random rules adults made up to zap every bit of the fun out of a meal.

That dogs aren't always cooperative, but it's nice to have a friend who's willing to sleep under your bed when it's dark.

That popsicles taste better when they come from the ice cream truck.

That snowmen are not as easy to build as you'd think

Permission to board the Mother Ship?

2010-04-29T15:27:00.004-04:00

Did I mention we leave for Disney World in just THREE DAYS?????

Technically, two and a half. Not that I'm counting.

I've been going absolutely OBSESSIVE making goodies for the kids, and some may call me a nutjob, but honestly, how often are they this age at Disney? It's likely the next time we scrape up the funds to re-create this experience, they'll be taller, more jaded, and a lot harder to wrestle into outfits of my choosing...so...I totally went bananas for this trip. Just ask my husband. Actually, don't. Please.

All of these items were designed and created by yours truly, with the exception of the adorable pillowcase dress (Mia's) and birthday tee (Connor's), both of which were Etsy purchases. Am I crazy? Prolly.

Without further ado, I present to you...my Disney crafting madness:

Anticipation

2010-04-04T20:29:00.002-04:00

Four more weeks...

Beaux

2010-03-26T13:35:00.005-04:00

After scoring a sweet little blue-and-white gingham dress on Ebay for Mia to wear Easter Sunday (already monogrammed with a capital "M!"), I set to work designing her a hairbow to match. I've been lusting after those gorgeous, fat, boutique-style bows lately (lots of loops and layers!), so I popped onto YouTube and gave myself a tutorial. How did we get along before the internet?

Here's my first attempt at a "boutique bow." After attaching the clippy, I thought it needed a little something to tie the whole thing together, so I rummaged in my jewelry box and found just the thing--my sapphire cross! It's secured with needle/thread as well as a dollop of hot glue, so I feel fairly confident the thing's not gonna fall off. I can always detach it if I want to wear the cross again...but I think it will look better in my little girl's hair!

Stay tuned...I've been getting super creative in anticipation of our MONSTER family vacay to a certain resort that starts with a "D," coming up in May...

Aw, Sissy

2010-03-23T21:35:00.004-04:00

It was brought to my attention recently by a very precocious fellow blogger who shall remain nameless (she's got blue hair and a penchant for combat boots) that I haven't posted a single entry since the danged Christmas candy outfit. Ok, she's right. Convicted. What's up with me? Blogging is a little like attending church. You fall out of the habit, it's tough to get back into. Did I just get a little too honest? It's sadly true.

I'll ease myself back into the saddle with a delightful moment I experienced just moments ago, while tucking my oldest into bed. I've been pitifully ill these past few days, and being bedridden is starting to get to me. Let me preface with this: Connor is our "toaster baby;" he pops back up at least four or five times before he's fully settled in bed at night. We're used to it. So I was totally prepared to dismiss him another time when he appeared in my bedroom doorway, resembling a Precious Moments figurine in his oversized pajamas and giant, pleading eyes. "Mommy, can I read to you?" I couldn't stand it. So up Mommy got, in her grubby sleepwear she's been wearing all day, and trudged to Connor's bedside, where I plopped onto a beanbag chair and watched my little professor enchant me with not one, but TWO chapters of Frog and Toad Together. Hearing him chirp these sweet, simple stories just makes me warm inside. Chapter two was about Toad's dream that he was onstage performing many tricks, and after each one, Frog would shrink a little, until he disappeared, at which point Toad awoke, relieved and overjoyed to find his friend by his bedside. I asked Connor if he had a special friend like that, and he said "Mia." I was not expecting that! "If I had that dream, I'd be so glad to see her standing there when I woke up too." Wow. I think she'd say the same. They really are dear friends. I watched them play today, chasing each other up and down the hall...I watched as Connor carefully helped his sister into her Cinderella costume, and then shared his blocks with her. I hope they're always this kindred.

Now I guess I better do something about that "Happy New Year" wallpaper on my blogsite, huh.

Makin' stuff again.

2009-12-08T15:10:00.013-05:00

A couple of things I've been working on this week.

Mia's super duper Christmas Candy outfit! Sucker was a lot more work than I expected. She loves it, though, which is all I care about. Any opportunity to bring out her Cindy-Lou Who-ness, I'm on it.

This necklace is for the kids' favorite babysitter, "Miss Sara." She leads worship on Sunday mornings at our church, and she sings like an angel. We are also making her a very sloppy card to go with it.

Mind vomit.

2009-11-16T15:42:00.010-05:00

SO MUCH on my mind lately, I can barely settle down to blog about a fraction of it. I'm just going to throw it all out there. Hang onto your hiney.

On the home front, Mia's finally showing some strides with her potty training. We were doing so well for a while, and then we started regressing when preschool started. The kids' school has a policy that you can't bring your child in underpants until they are close to accident-free, and that meant we were having to switch back and forth between undies at home and Pull-Ups at school. She's no slow-wit; she's well aware that Pull-Ups are really just expensive diapers. When you're wearing your own toilet, why bother using the potty at all? So last week her teacher and I chatted and she gave me the green light to just bring her in undies. After a rocky start, she's doing really well these days. Still reluctant to deposit #2...is this a girl thing?

Connor continues to have good days and bad days in Pre-K. Things got really bad a couple weeks ago when his teacher pulled me aside after class to chat about his progress. He's having fewer emotional outbursts (he and this kid Dylan continue to tango, but they really provoke each other. I'm not going to chastise my son for retaliating if the boy throws a rock at his head. I'm just not.), but she's having difficulty getting Connor to "engage" in class. He only participates in activities that interest him, and then he checks out and starts entertaining himself at random. She cited "rug time" as an example: the rest of the class sat and listened and he felt compelled to run circles around the activity table. I suspect a great deal of this behavior is boredom. Still, he has got to learn that participation is not elective. He is a compulsive "doodler" (Golly Moses, this was ME as a kid) and often decides he'd rather "illustrate" the back of his paper instead of practice writing lowercase "M" on the reverse. Getting his attention is a challenge--he has "selective hearing..." She said she caught him urinating on the playground once a couple weeks ago, and when she caught him, he could not understand what the big deal was. "I went behind the playhouse so nobody could see me!" he reasoned. She was even recommending professional evaluation, perhaps by a pediatrician. Not because he peed on the playground, but because he can't seem to focus with the rest of the class. She suggested blood sugar issues and this has been noted in the past, because he does have dramatic mood swings and has to pee a LOT. I may consider that. I'm starting to think maybe we just have a massively bored kid on our hands who also has a maturity issue in that he hasn't learned self-control yet. In the weeks following our conference, Connor's shown more of an effort to complete his handwriting practice pages, and he's had more good report days than bad. As for the public urination, he's four. And he's a boy. And little boys love peeing outside. Why else would they be such big fans of camping?

Still praying and considering what to do about Kindergarten next year for Connor. Number one on my list right now is Chattanooga Christian. I'm in love with their curriculum, their education policy, even their website. The real question...where the heck are we going to find the tuition?? Open House is Thursday. We're going to do some investigation. I want to feel PEACE about a decision soon!

Christmas looming. Mia is so excited about seeing Santa, she can't sit down. I'm trying to convince her to enjoy Thanksgiving first. Wants to put in her request for "Strawberry Shortcake doll." She's also been memorizing the American Girl catalogue. Oh my. She wants to trick out her "Bitty Baby" that she inherited from my cousin. Points to every item and declares she "needs dat." Boy, are we in trouble. Connor has already gotten half his Christmas present from us (I'm getting to that), but from Santa he wants a microscope. This kid is so into science and geography, it's ridiculous. Today he drew (free-handed) a disturbingly accurate map of the continental US and placed the state of Tennessee on it, then marked where the capital city is located. As far as the microscope goes, he loves cellular biology. Loves it. Especially blood cells and their functions. I told him if he wanted to see blood cells under the microscope, he'd have to draw blood...which isn't fun, and makes him faint (really. He did. Right after his flu shot. It was awesome...). We'll see what happens. More than likely, Mom or Dad will become guinea pigs. Anything in the name of education, right?

Beignet. It's no longer just a delicious New Orleans breakfast. It's our new puppy. Connor's Christmas present. She's adorable. However, I am now potty training two individuals in our house. We're going thru a lot of paper towels. And I am attempting to control three willful spirits and keep them from completely destroying the house. I think I'll just build a bunker in the basement and let them have it.

MORE TO COME.

Hallo-whine.

2009-10-29T09:51:00.002-04:00

I'm afraid I've fallen out of the blogging habit. Much like falling out of the exercise habit, which I've also done. This week I got back at it with a vengeance, and now my body feels exactly as though vengeance has been wreaked upon it. It literally hurts to take a deep breath. I suppose I deserve this.

The forecast is threatening rain for Saturday's tricks and treats. I dare say the kids won't miss a beat whether we go door to door or not. In similar fashion, I would welcome an excuse NOT to go for another walk this weekend...

Check out that wig.

Mimi's ordeal

2009-08-29T20:15:00.005-04:00

I remember growing up with asthma, and I remember it was unpleasant--scary at times. But I never experienced it from the perspective that my mom must have...until now.

God bless my sweet little princess. What a trooper. She went from THIS (see above) to THIS:

All within the space of just a few hours. Can you imagine? Here's the email I sent out to our church:

Mia's been at Children's Hospital Chattanooga since Monday afternoon, in respiratory distress. On our last day at the beach, she developed a bit of a runny nose which progressed into a cough, and over the course of a few hours had seized her lungs. By the time I pulled into our driveway Monday afternoon, she was grayish, barely responsive, and struggling a great deal to draw breath, so I rushed her to her pediatrician, who after examining her, determined that she needed to be hospitalized immediately. They had to call us an ambulance to transport her to Children's. The hospital has been administering steroids, IV fluids, albuterol treatments, and oxygen, and she's been slowly improving. Our hope is that we get to take her home tomorrow, if her oxygen saturation levels remain high overnight. We will be meeting with her doctors to discuss a long-term maintenance plan for her asthma so that she doesn't end up back in the hospital any time soon. Pray for our little girl!

We were blessed to be at Children's Hospital. Every doctor and nurse treated her with such TLC (as she began to feel better, she was nicknamed "the chatterbox" by a few of the staff!), and we could not have asked for more. Cinderella came to visit her, as well as a therapy dog or two! We're so relieved to have her home, and although we're grateful for the loving care she received while in the hospital, it's my hope that we never have to see those folks again. I said that in April. I still mean it.

My gratitude goes out to all of you who prayed for my sweet girl. She's doing great today, and we are managing at home with new meds. Hopefully, the maintenance drugs will keep us out of the hospital from now on.

His first work of fiction

2009-08-18T15:14:00.009-04:00

Today, Connor came bouncing home from preschool as usual, just bursting with new information.
"Guess what, Mom? A person who writes words is an author and a person who draws pictures is an illustrator!" I told him that was right on, and then asked him if he'd like to try his hand at authorship and illustration. Here is his first creation, destined to become a bestseller:

EDEN AND SARAH
by J. Connor Medlin, age 4

Once there was a cat named Eden.

She lived in a house that was right so close to a fire station.

She put on all her stuff and she liked to get in the fire truck. One day, the fire alarm went off. Eden hurried to the fire truck. The truck hurried to a house that was on fire.

The fire fighters went inside and started fighting the fire. Eden ran up the stairs and found a little girl named Sarah hiding under her bunk bed.

Sarah followed Eden out of the house. And they were happy because Sarah was saved.

THE END.

At the peak of ripe-ness

2009-08-06T13:40:00.011-04:00

I can't stand it any longer. I have to photograph those little chocolate sprinkles on my boy before they're gone with the summer breeze. Somebody gimme a spoon.

The young artist at work:

This face? That's all Mommy:

Now...this one? Unmistakeably Daddy:

Oh, World. Are you in trouble.

Mommy's Nail Salon

2009-07-27T21:05:00.003-04:00

It's a mani/pedi sort of day.

I'm A Big Kid Now

2009-07-20T10:06:00.005-04:00

Gosh, but we love our Little Mermaid underpants.

And our goofy big brother, who occasionally shares things like snacks and toys. And occasionally doesn't.

Connor's Initiation and Mommy's Return To the Stage

2009-07-17T23:28:00.013-04:00

I haven't been the most faithful blogger of late. It seems I'd rather fall into bed, exhausted.

I had to post this evening, though. Tonight, Connor came to see his mommy perform in a play. This was the first time he's seen me acting. Oh, sure, he's seen me do this and that for VBS at church, and he's more than aware of my capacity for silly antics. But I had to wonder how he'd respond to a fully-fleshed theatrical performance, complete with lights and sound. To add spice to our scenario, I was to play a rather nasty villain this evening: the White Witch of Narnia. I have to commit murder onstage. Now, Connor adores the Narnia story. But. He has a bit of a love/hate relationship with villains these days. He hides in his bedroom until the beginning scene in Finding Nemo (where the barracuda eats Nemo's mom) is over with. He outright refuses to watch Snow White. Even the scene in Ratatouille where the little old lady chases Remy with a shotgun unnerves him. I wondered if he'd forget himself entirely and burst out upon my entrance--"HI MOMMY! DON'T DO THE WITCH PART." Steve was poised to take hold of him, just in case.

I could hear him in the house, talking to Steve before curtain, and I was worried he'd talk out loud during the play. He was silent thru the whole thing, though. I approached him after the house lights came up, and asked him what his favorite part was. "Oh, the WITCH, Mommy!" he said. I was surprised--and relieved I hadn't scared the pants off him. "Wow," I said. "Really?" "Yes! It was AWESOME!" he said. Used those words. Then he got a tour of the set and backstage, got so excited about it he had to call his Neeni and tell her everything, and finally he decided he just had to act out his own play right there on the stage. So he did. For about fifteen minutes! He hooked Mommy into playing opposite him as he pantomimed the wardrobe, the mountain-climbing scene, and Edmund and Lucy wandering thru Narnia. It was hilarious. My co-star, our stage manager, the lighting designer and Steve were a very patient audience...he was reluctant to end his performance. Only the promise of going to visit his grandmother lured him away. We took a great big bow together. He's out of town with his daddy until Sunday evening but I think I'm going to buy him tickets to see both shows next weekend...

And on a side note, I am absolutely giddy with being a part of this sweet little show. I can't decide if it's the delightful allure of playing an evil character like the Witch, or the joy of acting like an eight-year-old and subsequently leading audience members to the marvelous conclusion that I couldn't be any older than 22. Two shows so far, and that's been the question on the table: What's your actual age? When I tell them "thirty-one," their jaws hit the floor. God bless 'em.

The Great Outdoors

2009-06-22T15:51:00.009-04:00

Last weekend we went to DeSoto State Park to attend the Knox family reunion. Mom was a Knox before she married, and boy, are those genes strong. Every one of us is a nutjob. ;-) But we are darn adorable. Poppie's jovial presence was palpably absent, but I like to think he was observing us all. I could almost picture him there, chatting and cutting up and telling all those well-worn stories everyone's heard at least a dozen times. We used to laugh every time.

Steve and I decided to add extra spice to our experience by attempting our first tent-camp Saturday night. I had a tiny bit of anxiety about how it would play out, but things really went fairly smoothly. The kids adored their breezy accomodations, and Connor was overjoyed over having full license to pee in the grass whenever he felt the urge. We ate wild blackberries, we hiked trails (bunnies!), we visited the Nature Center and observed all the stuffed creatures. The scenery was breathtaking. Maintenance of two wandering wee ones made things a little less relaxing than the ideal, but we would attempt another excursion in a minute.

H2Obstinate

2009-06-03T13:57:00.006-04:00

Most folks would describe me as fairly hardheaded. I have had this adjective attached to my name since my tender years, and I never realized what grief it caused the majority of my family until my son came along. The male version of ME. Poor, poor Connor.

Somewhere along the time he turned two, Connor began developing anxiety around water. He's just fine in the bathtub (unless you attempt to shampoo his hair), but get him within twenty feet of a larger body of water, and his little hiney cheeks clench. Drag him into the water and he becomes an octopus, wrapping himself multiple times around the nearest adult and howling until they take him out. It's ridiculous, really. Previous attempts to acclimate him to the pool have ended in mutual frustration, lots of tears, and no fun. Picture me at age four, and you've got an idea of the source from whence this behavior was inherited. I can't explain it. I was just plumb terrified of drowning, and I didn't trust a soul to keep me afloat. Consequently, Connor will not be convinced that we have his safety in mind. I don't think I've projected any latent fears onto him, though. I did eventually learn to swim, and I try my best to show Connor that it's fun. He won't be moved.

Well, two can play the stubborn game. I arose this morning, and whether it was by sheer determination or gluttony for misery, made the decision to carry both my children to the YMCA pool by myself. We stopped at Kmart to purchase a float suit for the wee one and a Spider Man kickboard for the big boy. I really hoped that would serve as incentive.

We arrived at the pool, everyone hopped into their suits, and I yanked Mia's float suit out of the box and cringed. It required a manual pump to inflate. What the??? Well, after a thorough inquiry at the front desk (surely they've got one, right? Don't they have to blow up basketballs and junk? This is the Y, for cripes sake), there was no pump to be found. I gritted my teeth and dug a fingernail into the valve to release the pin, wrapped my mouth around it tightly, and blew until I turned purple. Success. Enough to keep her afloat, anyway.

We marched back thru the dressing rooms, I flung open the door to the pool room, and Connor froze. The next 45 minutes was all about me coaxing and dragging a flailing four-year-old into the water while I balanced an ecstatic toddler on my hip. Oh yeah. Mia loves the water. A picture of contrast, she's a regular little goldfish. Splash, splash, jump to Mama, dunk under and swim to the surface...this child will be dog-paddling by summer's end, mark my words. Now back to Captain Hydrophobe. The fact that he was wearing water wings and clinging to a kickboard made no difference to him. He was convinced he was drowning. I tried everything to get him to relax. No go. Finally, he announced he had to pee. I told him I'd take him, but by golly, we were not leaving until he started enjoying himself. He gave me one of his famous "growly faces." We trooped out of the pool, took care of business, and made our way back. As an afterthought, I suggested Connor snag a couple "funnoodles" from the bin for himself and his sister. He did. Tucked one under his armpits and cautiously waded into the pool. This time it only took him about thirty seconds--he sailed out past the steps and paddled around in a circle, astonished that he was upright. "Mommy! Am I swimming?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"Yup, Baby! Is it fun?"

"Yes! Look! Watch me! I can do it!!"

It was the first time he's let go voluntarily. Ever. We spent another hour in that pool, until our toes were white and pruny and our stomachs were growling. Connor kept motorboating around in the shallow end, triumphant and radiant. He didn't want to stop. I hated to end it. Then Mia caught sight of a large man with b-cup breasts and about six teeth (the heated pool attracts the elderly like flies to a bug-zapper), and started pointing and asking questions. Clearly, our time was up. What fun, though!

And on the way home, Connor asked when we would go back. Sweet progress. We are going to take it slow, but I am hopeful. I am not giving up on this child. We're cut from the same cloth.

A look back a year...and 58 more.

2009-06-02T16:20:00.007-04:00

I guess coming up on milestones in our household automatically makes me yearn to archive. I'll do it every which way I can: scrapbooking, journaling (hello Blogger.com!), photography, digital scrapbooking...It's truly a love (one of these days I'll take another stab at logging our family tree online. Last time I had a few hundred names/dates compiled, and my computer crashed. It was too sickening to think about for a while). Well, I'm way behind on Mia's stuff, since I've been concentrating on C's latest accomplishments. Now it's Sister's turn. Here's footage from her first birthday celebration, which was almost a year ago. Wow. Those chubby cheeks and hands. Baby, baby.

And just for fun, here's a picture of my mom in October of 1951 when she turned one. Oops, I just broadcast her real age:

There aren't any pictures of me at my first birthday, because nobody loved me enough to photograph the occasion.

Ok, I'm kidding. Mom's got my baby book in Alabama.

Connor's Fourth Birthday--crafty fun!

2009-05-29T14:24:00.026-04:00

THE VIDEO

I already posted this on Facebook, but just in case you missed it, here's the video of Connor's fourth birthday celebration. It was super fun, and I hope it'll remain in his memory a long time. I know I remember my fourth birthday party with surprising clarity, so it's my hope that his will be something he looks back on just as fondly.

THE DETAILS

A couple folks have requested details on the creative aspects of the party. Here's all the fun stuff we did. Please accept my full permission to copycat anything you see that you like! All craft items were purchased at Hobby Lobby:

It all started with the invitation. Just cardstock and parchment, some "ivy" stickers, and I used some leftover feathers from the hat and arrow projects you'll see below.

Archer's caps for the boys, made of craft foam and adorned with a red feather each:

Super easy to make! Simply cut your foam in the above flat shape, bend, wrap, and staple. Chin strap optional.

Boys also received "Merry Men Tunics." I took a stack of green tee shirts, cut out the necks and tattered the sleeves. The boys put them on right over their clothes:

Little girls came already dressed in their favorite "princess" costume from home. I have discovered that nearly every female child over the age of 19 months and under the age of twelve owns one, no questions asked. When they arrived, I fitted them with "Maid Marian crowns," made with more craft foam and a dash of gauzy tulle stapled to the top. The girls decorated them with flower stickers:

Very very sweet.

Now that everyone was looking festive, it was time to carry out the theme with decorations.

Rustic road signs:
Prince John's "Treasury":

Sherwood Forest indoors (it started out rainy that day):

And target practice everywhere! You can get a package of 10 rifle targets from Wal Mart's Sporting Goods department. The beauty of bows and arrows is that most young kids aren't going to be able to fire them off, much less aim them correctly. It's harder than it looks. Nobody gets hurt!

We finished off with a viewing of the Disney animated version of the movie, ie. the inspiration for this whole blessed affair. The boys were especially rapt:

Each young guest departed with a small gift from Robin Hood himself, a "treasure bag," filled with plastic coins (I did some research on the chocolate ones and found that most are of questionable quality/origin. We decided cupcakes were sweets enough for everyone.), plastic "jewels," and a rubber bouncy ball. These came enclosed in a faux leather pouch, which was just a little craft felt and some twine to cinch it, and tied on were two "genuine" Robin Hood arrows. Remember when I started making those? They're wooden dowels wrapped with florist tape and adorned with feathers. I stuck craft foam "arrowheads" on the ends to up the safety factor and those bad boys were good to go:

Now, there are countless ways to jazz an affair like this up to the hilt. Connor and his friends are still developing standard attention spans, so we didn't bother with games, but you can always add in events like "jousting" with funnoodles, "target practice" with beanbags, or an obstacle course in which contestants "rob from the rich to feed the poor" by carrying water balloons from one location to another. We didn't know anyone who was willing to dress up as Robin Hood and display his marksman skill, but if you know someone who can, it's a classy touch.

And that's it, in a nutshell. Our proudest moments came when reports started rolling in of little boys who slept in their costumes that night. Next year, though...I'm thinking Chuck E Cheese. I need a vacation.

Reflecting on a year...

2009-05-28T16:06:00.002-04:00

Things Connor Learned When He Was Three:

to buckle his own seat belt

to bowl

to pedal a tricycle

to poke his own straw into his juice box and open his snack

to jump on one foot

to kick a soccer ball and fasten his shin-guards

vowels, syllables, long and short sounds

addition and subtraction

to pick out his own clothes

to button and snap

to make his bed

to brush his teeth

to read “big kid books” like Tiger Can't Sleep without help

to build a castle in a sandbox

to count to thirty, unassisted. To one hundred with help on the tens

that a skinned knee is not a mortal wound

to bravely try new foods, like olives

that live theatre can be even better than a movie

that planting a seed is an exercise in patience

that the dentist isn't scary

that every patch of grass is not a potty

that sometimes people we love die

That Mommy and Daddy love him, even when they're furious

that earthworms poop, just like everyone else

that he shouldn't write the word “poop” on his schoolwork

that toothpaste makes excellent fingerpaint, but it's controversial

that cartoons are make-believe

that not everything we eat is healthy

that God sees us, even though we can't see Him

that it's a good idea to wait until your sister is napping to build a block tower

that sometimes, pointing out how someone is different can hurt their feelings

that sleeping is virtually impossible when you're expecting a visit from Santa Claus

that girls love getting flowers

that grown-ups cry when they're happy and when they're sad

that peanut butter and jelly is the balm that soothes all evil

that occasionally, the best part of a football game is getting ice cream with Daddy afterwards

that nobody really knows where Heaven is

that green beans turn to liquid when they're held in your mouth for thirty minutes

that caterpillars don't bite

that box turtles don't bite either, but they pee

that God loves him more than Mommy and Daddy do. And that's a LOT

Cracking good toast!

2009-05-16T21:30:00.007-04:00

Connor's birthday present is complete. I put the finishing touches on this little fella tonight:

Ten points go to you if you can name this little guy correctly.

Time's up. This is Gromit. Isn't he cute-ums? If you haven't heard of Wallace and Gromit... they're a series of animated films starring a goofy bald dude named Wallace (he's British and he loves cheese) and his mute dog who is clearly the brains of the outfit. The entire catalogue of films includes three shorts and a feature-length (one more feature-length has just been released in Britain, entitled Wallace and Gromit: A Matter of Loaf and Death...it's set in a bakery. Expect highbrow humor, obviously). My love affair with these little guys began in high school. I've passed it on to my kids. Ask Connor and he'll tell you, they're his favorite movies. We own every DVD and he's about worn them ragged.

He's nuts for the little dog, Gromit. Problem is, it's darn near impossible (and fairly expensive) to locate any memorabilia promoting the characters. The only stuffed "Gromit" I was able to dig up was a tiny stiff miniature one. Not ideal for snuggling, which I know he'll want to do at night. And it was unavailable at the time. So I decided I'd make one. Believe me, this has been an exercise in experimentation...but hooray--Mommy's Gromit is plushy, snuggly, entirely hand-stitched (with luuuuv!), and measures an ample 18"! Maybe not something Toys R Us would want to mass-produce, but in our household, he's sure to be loved thoroughly.

My personal favorite touch is his little leather collar, complete with engraved license:

I've totally got dibs if Connor decides he's not interested. Is it his birthday yet?????

Videos!

2009-05-14T17:01:00.009-04:00

I finally got the videos to load!!!!!

You're getting a double feature this afternoon. The first is the footage I promised back before Christmas of Connor reading from the Bible. The second is hot off the presses from last night's Little Promises Preschool Choir performance. Apparently my son is under the impression that we belong to a Pentecostal church...

OPTIMISM...

2009-05-12T13:50:00.009-04:00

Days on end of rain make us Medlins downright melancholy...

Even a bit insecure...

But it makes for marvelous puddles in the garden...

And sometimes it helps us meet new friends...

And it certainly makes things delightfully green...

The best policy is to just grin and bear it...

Isn't that better?

Birth and Birthdays

2009-05-01T21:14:00.007-04:00

Everybody and their Aunt Tilly is having babies lately! I've been busy cranking out cards. Here are a couple I put together. Connor scrawled "Welcome Baby" inside. That's the best part.

Can I admit to being positively giddy with planning Connor's big Fourth birthday party (FOURTH? Gak! Where did the year go?)? His chosen theme this year is "Robin Hood." I went to Hobby Lobby today and started experimenting with materials to enhance the theme. I cranked these out today. They're just thin wooden dowels (2 dollars for a bag of 30 at Hob Lob!) outfitted with red feathers and florist tape. They'll eventually be fitted with foam tips.

Am I really going to outfit a bunch of preschoolers with primitive weaponry?

You bet.

Just not until they're headed home.

Patterpillow!

2009-04-21T13:32:00.004-04:00

Peekie Boo.

2009-04-06T17:33:00.001-04:00

Inconvenience

2009-04-01T09:15:00.001-04:00

It's been more than a decade since I was last plagued with stinkin' migraine headaches, but...yesterday I was struck with the third migraine I have had in two weeks. I've never had three in succession like this, and it is SO irritating to know you're about to be down for the count for several hours...This one was by far the worst of the three, and lasted the rest of the day until I went to bed and slept it off. Yesterday morning I woke up feeling "not quite right" after a restless night of very little sleep. Shortly after lunch, as I was putting the children down for naps, I started having the familiar visual disturbances that herald an oncoming headache. I called Steve (again), took some ibuprofen and crawled under a blanket. Pretty much stayed there until bedtime. I feel twenty times better this morning. My plan is to do a "coffee detox" and stay away from caffeine for a while, just in case that's triggering something. I don't drink but one to one and one-half cups a day, but it could be that I've got an extreme sensitivity to it. To be honest, I don't know what's causing the headaches. I've read studies that link just about everything possible to migraines, from changes in weather, sleep patterns, caffeine, milk, juice, meats, vegetables, processed foods, spicy foods, bright lights, stress, happiness (okay, maybe not that last one). Good golly, do they think water causes it? Bottom line is, nobody knows. I'm going to call my doctor for advice and hopefully an Imitrex prescription. In the meantime, if you could just pray that this problem goes away, I'd be super grateful. It pretty much grinds my day to a halt when I get a migraine, since I can't see to do anything.

Rainbows in the Rain

2009-03-23T10:03:00.017-04:00

Holy macaroni. What a weekend. How is it possible that the past 48 hours have included sunburn, a migraine headache, a chipped windshield (thanks I65. Love ya.), a flat tire (thanks, hwy 59. Love you.), a mischievous disaster*, and a 3am trip to the E.R.**, yet I still enjoyed myself in good old Alabammer?

Good friends are usually worth it.

*I'd love to know Connor's motivation for emptying the contents of a full can of spray sunblock all over the interior of my vehicle. I really would. So would he. He claims "I just wasn't thinkin'."

**I'm going to spare you the gross details of this story. Let's just say it began like a stomach virus and ended up like one of the Egyptian plagues. I'm still not entirely better. I'm going to see a regular doctor tomorrow to find out what the heck happened.

Boing.

2009-03-17T16:20:00.002-04:00

The other day, at lunch:

Connor: "Don't cut up my grapes, Mom! My teeth need to bounce on them."

Going Buggy

2009-03-09T14:57:00.015-04:00

Who can stay inside with all that gorgeous sunshine floating around?

I opened all the windows this morning to let in some fresh air, the Mini-Medlins and I went to run some errands, and when we got home, Connor's room was filled with red wasps! I shut the window (most of them were clinging to the screen) and trapped the majority between the window and the screen (yep, they're still there), then I went on a killing spree and I think I got the free-range ones. No idea how they got in--there must be a gap someplace in the screen. I yanked down his window blinds in my rampage; I'll fix that after we're sure we have found their point of entry. Connor's going to nap in our bed this afternoon.

This weekend we had our first family hiking excursion, at the state park in Guntersville! It was a wonderful day for it. Connor was so excited he couldn't sleep the night before, and when we got there, he was ecstatic, running up and down the trail and gathering sticks. Both the wee ones were troopers, really.
We did end up carrying them both a good bit (we didn't have a backpack carrier for Mia so I threw together a sling and hauled her on my hip, no prob), but they had fun, and I was relieved to discover that we don't have whiny "indoor kids." We have a camping trip scheduled for early July, around the weekend of Mia's birthday. I think they'll be into it.

Time "March"-es on.

2009-03-03T14:49:00.007-05:00

I gave up Facebook for Lent. What was I thinking?

Actually, it's been fairly liberating. All these weeks I've been wondering where the time goes in my day... suddenly I've got time to fold laundry, do dishes, read to the kids, make more infernal to-do lists...it's like I have two extra hours every day! And since I'm no longer feverishly refreshing my FB homepage to gobble status updates and peruse photos, leave comments, scrawl on people's "walls," (resist, resist. Go outside and take a deep breath, Manders.), perhaps I'll squeeze in a couple extra blog entries. Not that anyone reads this goop.

As Spring creeps around the corner (I am told it's coming. It'd better hurry up if it knows what's good for it), I find myself waxing nostalgic, knowing my babies are approaching their birthdays. Connor has a smidge more than two months left to be a three-year-old. Soon enough, he'll be waist-deep in big-kid pursuits, anticipating the big troop-off to Kindergarten, whispering to his friends instead of begging me to listen to his jokes. In photos taken just last year, he still had that exquisite toddler pot-belly. Now his legs have gotten lean and his face has lost that cherub roundness. Already this year, we've had some doozy conversations, about outer space, death, God, respect and love. He's already looking forward to four. Not because he's planning a party. He's been told he'll be able to ride a scooter. "And when I'm five," he says, "we're going to Disney World!!" It's nice to have goals.

And my really really baby, the youngest of our household, is buzzing toward "two" with tremendous speed herself. 20 months old yesterday. She's never considered herself "the baby." I'll warrant when she's old enough to express it, she'll demand we never call her that. She is every bit as grown as Brother in her estimation, and entitled to all the rights and privileges thereunto affixed. I absolutely love this age. She is so entertaining. She dances, she sings, she tries so admirably to communicate verbally, and we just never know what she's going to say. I've kept a journal of both the kids' "baby babbles" so I can taunt them in later years. Here's a handful of some of the things we've overheard Miss Mimi say this week:

“Wook! I did it! I buckle!”

“Uh-ohh, fall down *cookie.” (*or insert dropped object here)

“Meeka” Mickey Mouse. As in Meeska Mooska.

“Tickle me. Tickle toes, tickle foot.”

“I'm sticky.”

“Beers, Udder Beers, and Money” = Bear, Other Bear, and Bunny (her loveys! I adore those nicknames!!)

“How do you do, Bubber?”

“Cah gah go?” Where'd Connor go?

“Hi, Daddy! I eatin' seawall (cereal)!”

“Dankoowelcome.” Thank you/welcome. This is one word.

When she's mad, she'll kick her feet and say “keek!.” This is usually accompanied by a prone position, her little nose in the carpet, and a giant wail. She doesn't lose her temper excessively, but it happens. Usually when she's denied a treat.

She's very creative about naming her toys. She received a stuffed dog as a Valentine gift and named it “Silly.” Her favorite baby doll (which she got for Christmas) is named “Circle.” Cracks me up.

Bitten by the theatre bug.

2009-02-22T18:45:00.010-05:00

I remember the very first time I went to see a live play. I was five. It was The Wizard of Oz. From the magical moment the house lights dimmed and the overture began, it was as if something inside me awakened and wanted to burst out. My eyes never left the stage, my ears drank every word uttered by those green little community theatre players, and my heart danced whenever they did. "Hooked" doesn't begin to describe my state of mind. After the play, the cast assembled in the lobby and endulged the audience with autographs and small talk. When the cute little fourteen-year-old girl playing Dorothy shook my hand, I thought I'd pass out. This shy little wallflower had suddenly found her muse. I wanted to be just like her.

Wednesday I was perusing the Chattanooga Theatre Center's website, intending to scan for audition notices, to check and see if they'd announced next year's season, etc. Instead I found myself examining the performance schedule for the youth theatre's current production of Go Dog, Go. In my head, I weighed the possible scenarios for my three-year-old's behavior, which ran the gamut from "polite young man" to "Ma'am, please follow us to the exit." Finally, I decided to risk it. After all, the book upon which the play is based has been one of his favorites since infancy. It was one of the first he was able to read by himself. He loves every silly illustration, and knows the whole book by heart.

Friday night Connor and I piled into the family van and drove downtown, just the two of us, for a bona fide date. He was fairly trembling with anticipation. For two days we had reviewed the rules of theatre etiquette and read and re-read the dog book, all in preparation. He had been so excited that afternoon, he hadn't been able to nap (this alone could have counted as a strike against a decent evening...). Inside the little black box performance space, the first four or five rows of seats weren't seats at all. They were carpet squares. Connor wasn't quite confident enough to nab a ringside rug, but chose a spot about five feet from the action. I settled down next to him and waited to gauge his reaction.

The house lights faded and the pianist began plinking out a tune reminiscent of the silent film era. Onto the stage strode a boy of about seventeen or eighteen, dressed in a clownish ensemble that included a waggly tail and a painter's hat adorned with floppy brown ears. He launched into a slapstick routine, juggling unsuccessfully and wobbling around on roller skates. I looked over at my son. He was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. From that moment on, I barely glanced at the actors (sorry, guys.). My eyes were trained on my son, who I could tell was fairly falling in love. Connor hardly gave me a glance in return, although he occasionally scooted up close to my side, cupped his hand around my ear and whispered "this is just like in my book!" When it was all over, he begged to be allowed to go onto the stage and look around it. The cast hung around in the lobby to greet the audience, and Connor had his picture made with a few of them. He didn't want to leave. All the way home, he chattered about the play, detailing his favorite parts, favorite dogs, and insisting that I make him a hat with ears. He had already determined which color he wanted and which color his sister was going to wear. He planned to teach her her part before bed that night. We're already making plans to attend the next children's production.

The joy that filled my heart that night when I was five has swelled a hundred-fold.

Coats off!

2009-02-07T12:42:00.007-05:00

How delightful is that first warm day after a blustery winter? The sunshine has begun tickling our noses. Here are my favorites from yesterday's playtime:

Getting back into life...and scrapbooking

2009-01-30T16:09:00.013-05:00

I think pretty much all my readers (all 3?) are aware that our family experienced a death a couple weeks ago. I plan to blog about that when I can get my thoughts together.

In the meantime...

This week I burned thru my Hobby Lobby gift cards from Christmas! I was able to complete six pages for Connor's baby book and just last night, two for Mia's. I am overjoyed to be able to finally utilize all the little doodads I've been saving from the hospital (am I nuts for keeping the kids' cord clamps? Maybe. Am I nuts for keeping Mia's little dried umbilical stump in a Ziploc bag? Probably. Gross. Oh well. It's goin' in there.).

Enjoy the layouts. Click the images to enlarge.

Performing Arts, or Self-Torture?

2009-01-12T14:10:00.010-05:00

Perhaps I'm writing this so I won't chicken out.

It's been *insert embarrassingly lengthy time span here* since my last confession--er--audition. And I'm thinking of doing one. Oh Lord. Why?

Most days I'm perfectly content doing what I do with my evenings, tucking in wee ones and parking my rear on the couch beside the Hubby to watch DiscoveryHD in my slipper socks. Quiet time in our household is cherished. Relished. Anticipated. During the week, my daylight hours are filled with appointments, trips to the gym, to preschool and play dates, housecleaning, sibling mediation, meal preps...and then, blissfully...nothing after ten PM. Steve and I--we just quietly allow ourselves to zone out (I know, most of you thought our night life was spicier...) until our eyelids won't stay parted. Why would I want to disrupt such a beautiful system and commit myself to a possible three months of obligation from 7-11 pm? I'm not sure. Also, I think maybe there's a little demon inside me whose sole pleasure is watching me turn white with terror.

CTC's doing Company in March (Ah, Sondheim!), and auditions are in a week. I just...I think...oh, criminy. I'm picturing something along the lines of that scene in The Little Mermaid, when Scuttle picks up the snarfblatt and blows into it, expecting beautiful music. Instead, a load of sea sludge and kelp bubbles out. Me? I'm the snarfblatt. It's been a while.

LEFT PHOTO: In my youth and channeling Carol Burnett.

RIGHT PHOTO: Taken this morning, before I'd had my coffee and OsteoBiFlex.

I'll borrow a line from my son when he first saw me acting, in a skit for Vacation Bible School:
"Mommy, don't get up on that stage again."

Dinner conversation

2009-01-07T23:13:00.004-05:00

Me: Connor, tell your daddy what you learned today. What kind of letters are A,E,I,O, and U?

Connor: Vowels!

Me: Right on, Son! And what are the other ones called?

Connor: Coincidence!

Photo peeks

2009-01-06T17:46:00.012-05:00

We're all quarantined with the post-Holidays crud virus (except Lucky Steve), so just thought I'd post a few more pics from Christmas. Back when everyone was rosy with health. Get your eyes full of my youngest fully clothed. This week she's learned to undress herself, and nothing will do her but to run around half-clad, icy fingers and toes growing ever more frost-prone. I suppose she'd accept dress if she got cold enough...

This sweet pic just tells a story, doesn't it? I love her little upside-down rabbit.

They're at Mom's house here. Mia's trying to get those britches down in this picture. We found a bug bite on her bottom (how the heck?) she was probably trying to get at, but I still think she just wanted to be naked. My little girl is a nudist.

Watching for Santa? Hardly. The neighbor across the street had to call a tow truck and it was THE entertainment pinnacle of our trip to Alabama.

Auld Lang Syne

2009-01-05T13:24:00.007-05:00

Ever get the post-holiday blues? I can't settle on why I'm a touch melancholy this afternoon...maybe it's the gloomy skies and our soggy backyard...maybe I'm experiencing sympathy pangs along with my poor little invalid son--bless him--he hasn't budged from his little blanket cocoon since I piled him on the couch this morning, feverish and bubbling from the lungs and nostrils. A simple virus, but he just looks pitiful. I think we all have a touch of the Christmas Decompression Sickness.

We are finally back from our travels and settling into nice, normal life. In a way, I'm glad the Holidays are over for another year, although it was simply magical experiencing it through the eyes of my children this time. Connor got just what he wanted this Christmas--games and art supplies. And Mia is now the proud "Mommy" of about nine new baby dolls, as well as the owner of a passel of supplies to keep them happy: bottles, bath set, stroller, diaper bags. I won't rattle off the complete list of their treasures, but suffice it to say nobody's going to be bored in our household for quite some time. With few exceptions, both sides of our family remain well and content, and we got to spend time with nearly everyone. A true blessing.

Our most recent and final Holiday stop was to visit Mom and my grandparents. There, we rung in the new year. We did our best to brighten my 90-year-old Poppie's spirits at his hospital bedside in Montgomery, AL. Although I fought impending anarchy as the children quickly became bored and restless, I knew it was as important for them to be there as it was for me. After some coaxing, Connor agreed to read an adaptation of Luke chapter 2 (the story of Christ's birth) for everyone. Poppie was proud as could be of his great-grandson. The two of them have always shared a special friendship. Our prayers for Poppie are ongoing.

Now at home, I'm left with the wonderful job of packing up the decorations, washing up travel duds and finding places for all the new STUFF (After cleaning out the basement and hauling a van-load of donations to the thrift store last week, I certainly hope we won't have trouble in that department!).

If I can get the bloomin' video to load properly, I'll post Connor's Bible reading. It touches my heart like nothing else.

Hot Chocolate

2008-12-29T16:07:00.003-05:00

Captain BrownBeard, fierce pirate of the Cocoa Seas.

And then apparently he wiped half of it on my living room furniture.

Wordless Wednesday

2008-12-17T14:07:00.002-05:00

Off-Season Humor

2008-12-16T15:34:00.002-05:00

"What happened to my treats that I trickered?" ---Connor, upon discovering his empty Halloween bucket in a closet.

Mia's First Haircut

2008-12-15T13:11:00.004-05:00

I just couldn't take the mullet a day longer.

BEFORE:

MID-TRIM:

THE STUNNING RESULTS:

Nibble, Nibble Little Mouse...

2008-12-14T18:11:00.007-05:00

"...Who's been nibbling at my house?" demanded the wicked witch.

Guess that's me.

Connor and Mia and I spent about an hour assembling a very elaborate gingerbread house night before last, as a "Welcome Home Daddy" offering (Daddy had been freezing his sugarplums off in Minneapolis, on business). "This is a centerpiece, Connor. We're not going to eat this, are we?"
"Nooo," he replied gravely.
"We want Daddy to see our beautiful work, right?"
"Right, Mommy."
Then I put him to bed.

The house was delightfully silent, not a creature was stirring. So I ventured down to the basement for my nightly email perusal and general goofing off online. I was down there maybe an hour.

I climbed the stairs and rounded the corner to the kitchen, where I beheld a suspicious sight. Someone had pulled out a chair, climbed into it, and dragged the lazy susan, complete with irresistible centerpiece, into arms' reach. They'd then bitten the roof to swiss cheese, and tried to reposition the evidence, albeit upside-down and backward. My gaze shifted to the doorway between kitchen and living room, where a trembling three-year-old stood, the remnants of gingerbread house carnage still lingering at the corner of his mouth.

I said nothing.

He said nothing, then promptly burst into tears.

I'll admit I was a little irritated, but I didn't fail to recognize the humor in the situation. That house must have looked to him like a giant bottle of Scotch to an alcoholic. He has the most ravenous sweet tooth of any kid I know. He probably held out as long as he could, poor guy.

We're keeping the gimpy gingy house on the table. I've promised Connor he can devour it from foundation to roof peak if he'll just wait a few more days and let us enjoy it. I know he's biding his time. This is one of those tales I'll surely tell for Christmases to come. What an adorable memory.

Christmas Photos, Second Attempt

2008-12-08T15:29:00.006-05:00

Well, not officially. I just thought Mia looked cute in her little red riding hood. And this may be the single photo I've achieved of her smiling since her birthday pictures.

And just for funzies, here's a picture of Connor, Christmas 2005:

Hee hee!! Could you just eat 'em like little gingerbread cookies? No? Just me? Ok, sorry.

Christmas Photos, First Attempt

2008-12-07T16:10:00.009-05:00

These were taken at our church. I popped the kids in front of a stained-glass window in our sanctuary and snapped a few test shots. The lighting was pretty awful, but a couple came out fairly nice. I'd really like to get them in their full Christmas splendor, head-to-toe (especially since my aunt was gracious enough to get them these gorgeous holiday outfits!), so I'm going to make another attempt in a different locale.

Anyone who's got tips on how to get BOTH my kids to look at the camera and smile simultaneously...fire away. I throw myself at your mercy and beg your tutelage.

Smart girl

2008-11-25T10:31:00.002-05:00

Connor's preschool was decorated for Christmas this morning. The children were fascinated. We took a moment to gaze at all the twinkly lights before I dropped Connor off in his classroom. As Mia and I were headed back to the car, we approached the exit door to the church, adorned with a large wreath. Mia's little hand flew out and she pointed enthusiastically. "Circle!" she said. I hadn't cued her.

I'm reminded of a certain tiny boy a couple years ago, who pointed from his little car seat at the "yield" sign on the street and exclaimed "Eye angle!" He was sixteen months when he did that. Just like Mia.

Critics, Man.

2008-11-22T17:29:00.000-05:00

With my newly reclaimed spare time...

2008-11-15T18:17:00.009-05:00

I have been indulging in some creative pursuits. I didn't properly document the colors/styles of paper and accessories I used to create these, but I wanted to share them anyway. Just 'cause I'm proud. Wasn't it yesterday they were both this small? Oh, my heart. I should mention this kind of pastime tends to send me into throes of nostalgia, and it does nothing to distract me from the "belly envy" I'm experiencing due to the recent impregnation of half the women I know. Thanks a lot, girls. I'm going to sit in my son's room now and stare at him until I remember that I haven't had a full night's sleep in three and a half years. That ought to nip it in the bud.

Catching up

2008-11-10T14:43:00.019-05:00

It occurred to me that I haven't blogged in about a quarter century. My head is in a fog. Where has the time gone? Is this November? Where are we?

Halloween. The kids had a blast, although we did not attempt a door-to-door after our flop experience last year (Nutshell? Our neighborhood is full of crabby old patoots). We attended no fewer than three carnivals, each replete with candy and inflatables. Connor went as Super Why and Mia was a rosebud . Those costumes got a workout. I gave Connor full license to choose what image would be carved into his pumpkin. He chose "W allace and Gromit." An obscure subject at best, just like his choice of costume. He did not care that nobody knew what he was supposed to be and everyone thought he was a ninja turtle. This is why I love him.

The Saturday following Halloween, a dear friend of mine drove all the way up from Birmingham, AL to take family portraits of us. She did a STUNNING job. I'll be posting more of those photos in the weeks to come. If you like what you see, book her online: http://www.bonneviephotography.com/ Check us out in her portfolio section! We're famous!

This weekend I actually did something nice for myself. Thanks to a stockpile of gift cards I've been holding onto since my birthday, I was able to replace my nursing bras with real, honest-to-goodness, industrial over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders. No hooks in the front, no flaps, no stretched-out elastic and frayed edges. Nope. Real bras. Nice ones. You'll recall I quit nursing when Mia turned one. Back in July. It pains me to reveal this information, since you'll now be able to calculate how long I've been wearing kaput lingerie. Let me just say that thanks to a professional fitting and some new foundation-wear, I look and feel about five pounds thinner (add that to the 11 lbs I've lost since beginning my quest to drop 30! A bit more to go but I love seeing results!). Rock on. I highly recommend a bra splurge if you haven't recently.

Anyway, the kids were impressed with my purchase.

I also achieved something MAJOR last night. At least in my own estimation. I've been working on a set of illustrations for an aspiring author in Florida for over a year now. You'd think sixteen or so measly little color drawings wouldn't be that time-intensive. I may just be a poor steward of my time. Anyway, it's done. Complete. Finished. I can't believe it. Last night after the kids were safely in their beds, I settled onto my usual spot at the end of the couch, under the lamp where the light's the best, and fought every urge to reach for my pencils. I've been at this for a year! It's been a tucked-away dream of mine to illustrate for children since I was a child myself, though, and crafting these characters and these pages has been such a delight, such a soul-feeder for me, I'm determined to do more. My head is already swimming with ideas and my hand itches to create. I'm going to beef up my portfolio. Updates to come.

Beautiful Dreamers

2008-10-25T15:09:00.005-04:00

The men in my little family seem to be cursed with a startling neurosis...they talk...nay...they become psychotic weirdos in their sleep.

I learned this truth early in my marriage, as I was awakened many a wee hour to the sight of my dear husband standing in the center of our bed, swatting furiously at the air. When pressed until he could complete a coherent sentence, Steve admitted he had been dreaming about giant spiders. This still occasionally happens.

One particular evening, I had this enlightening conversation with his subconscious:

STEVE: (waggling my arm and shoving me toward the edge of the bed) Will you just MOVE?
ME: Um, what is your problem?
STEVE: I'll tell you what my problem is. I don't know why this is so difficult for you to understand. Look. You have a potato. Okay?
ME: Okay. Wait--I have a...huh?
STEVE: You have a potato. You cut it in half. WHAT DO YOU GET????
ME: Well...
STEVE: TWO HALVES OF A POTATO!!! Now get out of the way!

I just never know. Connor has been known to order snacks from his bed at 3am ("Baloney and cheese!!") and on occasion, he has run into our room howling, claiming his sister is eating batteries or his dresser drawers are flying around in his room.

So this evening at ten till six, I awoke from peaceful slumber as I was being pummeled with elbows and arms. I believe it took me a full three minutes to gain my senses and realize I was not being murdered. Steve was having a nightmare that our daughter was in danger. I can hardly blame him for flailing. We'll give him that one.

The capper came this afternoon, when our darling son rose from his naptime, shuffled into the living room, and promptly urinated in the wastebasket beside the coffee table, as though he did that every day.

The beat goes on. Could I sleep at your house?

Smell that? It's accomplishment.

2008-10-21T14:10:00.004-04:00

This week I have been seized with a desire to scrapbook like nobody's business. And since I've been putting off starting the kids' baby scrapbooks (good gravy, I'm swiftly approaching four years' worth of material to archive!), I figured now's as good a time as any.

Never mind the mountains of laundry beginning to compost in my utility room floor.

Never mind the two Halloween costumes that beg to be completed by this Friday's Harvest Party at Connor's preschool.

Never mind that we're expecting company this weekend and our house looks like someone held it upside down and shook it like a snow globe.

This is loads more fun. I already finished Connor's four-page Infant Baptism spread, and I'm starting on Mia's.

Harvest Hijinks

2008-10-14T16:51:00.002-04:00

Connor: Mommy, what's "autumn" mean?

Mommy: It means "Fall."

Connor: Oh. Sometimes when I autumn I get real bad boo-boos.

On an un-related note, My husband's recent blog has me teary-eyed and sentimental. Did I need another reason to love that man?

The Boys and the Red Barn

2008-10-02T20:38:00.012-04:00

An outing at Heritage Park this fine fallish noontide, sunshine and scads of bees bouncing thru the grass...my rosy-cheeked son and his dearest chum...a weathered red barn fairly beckoning to be made a backdrop... Now, who do I have handy for subject matter?

Ah yes, the usual victims. These guys are so sick of me.

Any other takers?? This is Connor's dearest little pal, Keaton. Refreshingly cooperative in front of a lens. Perhaps it's because he hasn't spent enough time around obnoxious me.

Connor, are you sure you don't want in on this action?

Er...Can you give me a smile like Keaton?

A little frightening. Want to try again?
Right. Okie doke.

How about if I take a nice picture of you boys together? Would you like that? Yes? Let's try it.

You guys think you're funny, don't you?

Yep. Aw, the heck with it.

Avast!

2008-09-19T14:32:00.002-04:00

It's International "Talk Like a Pirate" Day! Shiver me timbers and such.

Am I Dead Yet?

2008-09-16T14:43:00.004-04:00

Apparently, my life just wasn't scattered and frenzied enough. Apparently, I wasn't experiencing quite enough misery on a daily basis. Something had to change, and now. So I signed myself up (along with the whole family, because let's face it, Misery loves company...) for a membership at the YMCA. We are jumping in with both feet--at least I am--with yoga, water aerobics, and weekly use of the weight room/gym (see: "torture chamber"). I've got my whole week planned out, and I'm going to exercise three times a week. Yesterday was my first yoga class, and it was actually splendid. My instructor complimented me several times during class on my balance, and even asked me if I'd ever studied dance (here I believe she was resorting to shameless flattery in order to entice her only pupil under the age of sixty. I did take a dance class in college. Intro to Dance with Cornelius Carter, former member of Alvin Ailey. I'm certain the man did not realize he was leading an introductory level course. His lighter routines left this little white girl purple and gasping like a toad. I think he took special delight in those moments.). After yesterday's class, I laced up my sneakers, trotted out to retrieve the wee ones, who'd been blissfully playing in the kiddie care room (I get to drop them off for two hours at a time! Those Y suckers...), and gathered us into the van. This getting in shape business was going to suit me fine.

Meet me, if you will, in present day.

I feel exactly as though someone has taken a baseball bat to my innards. Honestly, it was all I could do to ease out of bed this morning. It hurts to cough, to laugh, to sit on the toilet. Ladies and gentlemen, I have staged a war on my fat cells and the fat cells are retaliating with outright ambush. A steady diet of Slim-Fast and ibuprofen since Sunday... and I've gained a pound. WHAT??????

Dare you to keep a straight face.

2008-09-11T14:17:00.005-04:00

The diaper box said "17-24 lbs." Dang cheapies don't hold half that.

LOGOPHILE.

2008-09-08T12:38:00.006-04:00

What's the word for a word-lover? My son's a textbook case.
Did she say book? Where??

"Mommy, know what? There's two trips."
"Huh?"
"Two trips."
"Mmm, okay. What does that mean?"
"Go on a trip in the van or trip on the stairs. Right, Mommy?"

Yes, Son, and YOU, my Love, are a third blessed kind of trip! Will he retain any respect for his old mom when he realizes he's smarter than she is?

Her Baby Blues

2008-09-06T22:08:00.003-04:00

They make my heart melt into a puddle of chocolate syrup. She uses those sparkly little sapphires to her full advantage. Hang onto your Huggies, boys.

Happy 90th Birthday to you, Poppie!

2008-09-04T16:45:00.001-04:00

Chatty Mimi

2008-08-27T16:20:00.005-04:00

What a difference being bi-pedal will make in a person.

The Small One seems to have developed, along with newfound walking skill, an entire vocabulary overnight. Our little songbird's entire list of words consisted of "Dada," "Mama," (only used when she wants something. Learning early, I guess...), "baby" and "Woof." In the span of about a week and a half, she's suddenly blossomed into a regular chatterbox, letting loose with all sorts of delightful expressions. Amongst her numerous new terms are "brother," "snack," "bath," "down" and "stuck." I took her to the store with me yesterday morning to get her some suitable walking footwear, and when I placed them on her feet, she smiled and said "socks!" I had no idea she even knew that word, since nobody's worn socks in our house since Spring.

Of course her favorite pastime continues to be following Brother around and doing whatever he does. Connor began learning his alphabet at around her age, using the foam letter shapes he played with in the tub. With his help (and mine), she can recognize two letters already. Maybe he will teach her to read in a couple years!

SHE'S WALKING!!

2008-08-23T19:56:00.004-04:00

We have a toddler! This evening at about bedtime, Miss Mimi decided it was time to let go of the wall. About ten minutes after these shaky first steps, she began patrolling the entire house, and climbing everything. Help! Hee hee.

From the over-disciplined to the yet un-disciplined

2008-08-22T16:02:00.008-04:00

Connor's really enjoying preschool and so am I! Last week's Bible verse was "A soft answer turneth away wrath," which he and I both benefitted from memorizing. Ha! Mia STILL isn't willing to walk alone, but she and Connor have been getting along better recently (not perfectly, but I'll take what I can get). They play together a bit more these days, which is encouraging. Connor still has his contrary times, and that's when I know he needs his space. I know how it feels to have a younger sister always in your stuff. We're still dealing with power struggles with Connor, especially at mealtimes, but I'm trying some new approaches to see if we can settle things without raising our voices. If he refuses what's on the menu, he simply doesn't get a meal. Yesterday he was on a food strike all day until 8pm, when I finally threw out his dinner from the PREVIOUS night that I'd reheated about six times (it was getting petrified). He decided he'd eat meat loaf with the rest of us and ended up downing two plates. I'm not sure which of us won that battle. He's got a stubborn streak like nobody's business. We love him anyway.

In other news, I received a text message from my sister last night saying she'd been robbed at work. Nobody was hurt and the assailant wasn't armed that we know of, but as soon as she opened the cash register to ring up his waffle purchase, he leapt the counter, shoved her backward, jammed his hands in the till and made off with about $200. Becky called 911 from her cell phone. She and the thief were the only ones in the dining room; the cook was out back emptying garbage. He tried chasing the guy down but he got away. When I finally got her on the phone last night we both cried. I'm just glad she's ok. Doubtful they'll catch the guy, but I have to think he must have been pretty desperate to knock over a Waffle House.

Hooray for preschool!

2008-08-12T11:48:00.009-04:00

We had a bit of a bumpy beginning, I'll admit. I cringed this morning as I backed awkwardly out of Connor's brand new classroom, deflecting grabby little hands that clung to my pant leg and clawed at the door frame...I attempted to level my blood pressure despite howls of protest as I made my exit...Would it be like this all year? Good glory.

Well, the tides had changed by the time I came back to pick him up. He was positively radiant. He loves his teacher, his class, everything. Impressed everyone with his writing and math skills. Didn't act like a demon. I was relieved. At home he drew me a self-portrait. Most impressive. I think it's going to be a good year.

Happy Anniversary, Babe.

Nine tenths of a century...

2008-08-05T22:29:00.007-04:00

My Poppie's ninetieth birthday is coming up in a month. He is so dear to our family, and we all have such fond memories of growing up with him in our lives. He's such an unforgettable individual. I feel especially blessed to be able to watch my children, his great-grandchildren, developing a warm relationship with Poppie that reminds me of my own tender years with him. My project for him has been an 8x8 memory book, complete with sentiments from every generation descending from him. I completed the first two pages tonight, one for each of my children:

She's at it again.

2008-07-31T23:20:00.002-04:00

I'm a sucker for natural light. Our living room pours delicious rays in the morning hours. Couple that with our nice chocolate walls in there, and you've got the makings for lovely photos. After several minutes of pleading and dancing, I even succeeded in coaxing Connor, my shrinking violet, from his lens-phobic shell. Mia needed no encouragement.

Take a Letter, Please

2008-07-11T15:23:00.008-04:00

We are now learning to write in our household!

...Steve's a little behind the rest of us, but he's practicing a lot. He's hoping to master his own name by the end of the month...

One of the most miraculous and worthy investments in our playroom appears to be the revered Aqua Doodle. Connor can't get enough. It was a Christmas gift from his Uncle Jason, and on it he has drawn his first recognizable face, complete with ears and hair, and now his fledgling attempts at letters. Last night he'd write a letter and then get up and do a celebratory dance. Soon he was scrawling out simple words all by himself, like "papa," "Mia" and "poop" (Thanks a lot, Daddy, for that last one. They're going to love my kid in preschool next month).

I raided the dollar bins at Target this morning and found Connor some Disney workbooks for practicing writing. Here's his very first solo attempt at his name in pencil:

And just so Princess Mimi doesn't feel left out after Brother's been the subject of three consecutive blogs, here's a peek at her big day. Click on the mosaic to enlarge:

Well, buckle my swash.

2008-07-09T10:48:00.004-04:00

"Arrr! I'm a pirate! I'm gonna warrrter the garrrrden!" ---Connor, while playing outside with his toy sword and watering can.

Don't make me come back there.

2008-06-23T14:40:00.005-04:00

Ever had a kid frustrate you so much you just want to scream? We're going thru a bit of a "defiance" stage with the young man presently. I believe the last time his father spanked him, he smiled and declared "I didn't even cry!" Rarrgh.

Connor's favorite store is Lowe's. He can usually convince his daddy to take him there at least once weekly, with the sole aspiration to try out every riding mower they have in stock. Their last visit was cut rather abruptly short, however, when Connor, who had already been dragged bodily from his lengthy test-drive session, and who had also been picking his nose conspicuously from his place in the shopping cart, stood and frantically shouted, "I lost my booger!" over and over. "Where's my booger?"

Our young man is a perpetual source of entertainment. Despite a harrowing week at Vacation Bible School ("Are you Connor's mommy? Well...your son is certainly...spirited!") and lots of time in his room at home for antagonizing his sister and smarting off to us (age three is turning out to be more "terrible" than two in lots of ways...sigh...), our boy always manages to redeem himself at the flip of a switch. I explain all the time that the world of little boys is new and fascinating for me, the oldest of two girls. When I was a child, even masculine playthings were unacceptable. The only mildly male toy I owned was a giant stuffed lion with a mane, and I stubbornly immasculated the poor thing, clipping barrettes onto it and tying bracelets around its paws . Now my house is filled with water pistols, miniature lawn tools, tiny cars, and wee superheroes. I used to entertain myself quietly for hours, building apartment dwellings for my Barbies. Connor is not content to play any game that does not involve a slobbery motor noise (he's even taught Mia to do it. I fear I may have to tolerate some tomboy tendencies eventually.). Every piece of furniture we own has already become a launch point. The other day I strode innocently into the kids' playroom to find that my son had pushed a dining chair up to the toy shelf, balanced a small folding chair above that, and was standing on top, straining to reach something I thought I'd cleverly placed out of his reach. I stifled a scream because I knew if I startled him, we'd be driving to the E.R. next. Someone once told me when I was pregnant with him that I should go ahead and nail all the furniture to the floor. I remember laughing then. I'm immersed in a world of grubby fingernails and bruised elbows and knees, of sweaty feet and ketchup-smeared cheeks. He is clumsy, irreverent, stubborn, loud, and sloppy. But he's wonderful. I adore the little made-up tunes he sings, often while trying to stand on his head ("I'm the very first Connorrrr...in thuh worrrllllld!"), and the impulsive way he flings himself into my lap for a snuggle. I love the little dusting of freckles that has appeared across his nose this summer. I love the way he dares me to tickle him. I love that he still lets me rock him sometimes. I love that he brings me bedraggled clover blossoms. I watch him sleeping, nearly buried in a mountain of stuffed friends he insisted on piling around him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, a tiny puddle of drool collecting on his pillow, and I KNOW I will look back on this time and MISS it. I'm going to do my best to remember that.

Mia's birthday portraits

2008-06-21T15:14:00.015-04:00

And before the scent of burnt candles has even had a chance to dissipate on the wind...it's time for Medlin Number Two's big day! My sweet baby girl will be one in a little over a week. It's hard to realize. Today I got all fancy and experimented with some "studio" shots... despite my crude efforts, the photos came out quite nice. Here she is in her party duds. She definitely loves the camera!

At TaliaBriscoe's request, a MEME.

2008-06-20T14:02:00.004-04:00

If you'd like to follow suit and copy/paste for your own fun, please comment me so I can enjoy your response.

01. First Name: Adrienne
02. Age: 30
03. Location: Hixson, TN USA
04. Occupation: Stay at Home Mom
05. Partner: Steve
06. Kids: Two; Connor (age 3) and Mia (will be a year old in a week and a half)
07. Brothers/Sisters: One sister, Becky, age 26
08. Pets: None at present.
09. List the 3-5 biggest things going on in your life: I think "raising two children" pretty much covers my one thru ten.
10. Where and for what did you go to school for? Ok, judging from the syntax of that question, I'm going out on a limb and saying the composer of this meme didn't go to school at all.
Self-righteousness out of the way, I graduated UA in 1999 with a Bachelor's in Theatre. Minor in English.
11. Parents? Mom-Anita, 57 Dad-Barry, 54 (?) Stepmom-Tina, 53(?)
12. Who are some of your closest friends? Most of them don't live nearby, oddly. My oldest and closest friends are Kristie and Chari. I've known one of them 18 years (gasp!) and the other 17.
13. What is on your bed right now? Unfolded laundry. It's also about waist-deep on my floor, if you want that mental picture.
14. What's your favourite word or phrase? "Wanna go out to dinner?"
15. What were you doing at 8am this morning? spooning yogurt into my daughter
16. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Putting my son down for his nap
17. Have you ever been to a strip club? No!
18. What is the last thing you said aloud? That looks like fun
19. What was the last thing you had to drink?lemonade
20. What are you wearing right now? Capris, a yellow tee shirt and Crocs
21. Have you bought any new clothing items this week? I got three new bras this morning! Hooray, my daughter is weaned!!
22. When was the last time you ran? No idea. It hurts when I run.
24. What's the last sporting event you watched? Golf. Yes, really. I watched Tiger Woods and Rocco battle it out at the US Open and actually got interested. What's THAT about??
25. Do you use the word 'hello' daily? Oh give me a break. Doesn't everyone?
26. Ever go camping? It's been a long time.
27. Do you have a tan? In very small, concentrated areas, yes.
28. Have you ever lost anything down a toilet? Don't think so.
29. Do you use smiley faces on the computer a lot? Occasionally.
30. Have you learned anything today? I learned that they quit selling fabric at the new "refurbished" Wal Mart, amongst countless other inventory items. And I've discovered another reason to hate that store.
31. What are you doing tomorrow? Cleaning house.
32. Look to your left, what do you see? Bookshelf and the door to the garage
33. What do you think of when you think of Australia? Koalas and kangaroos.
34. Ever ridden on a roller coaster? It's been too long since I last did. I'd like to.
35. Last person you talked to on the phone? Hubby
36. Any plans today? After the kids wake up, we're trooping to church for the final night of Vacation Bible School.
37. What do you wish you had right now? no debt
38. How many kids do you want when you're older? The jury's out on whether there will be a third Medlin kid. We'll take a look again when the baby's out of diapers and see if I've got any energy to speak of.
39. How old will you be turning on your next birthday? 31
40. Have you ever been to Six Flags? Yep. It was kind of unimpressive compared to Disney, but much more economical.
41. How did you get some of your scars? Well, the one that most immediately springs to mind was the result of two c-sections. It gives my stomach a permanent overbite and I am more than a little self-conscious about the whole thing. But the by-product of the procedure was incredible. Outside of that I've got a small place on my knee from having had three stitches as a kid.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

2008-06-15T14:12:00.004-04:00

Click on the mosaic for a larger view.

Way to go, Medlins!

2008-06-13T23:27:00.006-04:00

My blessed husband endured an evening of chaos at the Creative Discovery Museum yesterday, when I roped him into accompanying us to "Free Family Fun Night." Our parking spot was approximately one half mile away from our destination...ZZ Top was in concert on the riverside about four blocks away, hence massive throngs of half-groomed forest gnomes made our journey a challenge...and never have I seen so many sweaty children packed into one building. Still and all, both our kids had a ball. Connor was overjoyed to see the Clifford exhibit. Mia tried to climb into a water table with the ducks and boats. Nobody got dinner until nearly 9:00 and nobody complained about it. Troopers.

The video

2008-06-10T09:14:00.003-04:00

Here's the video! Youtube has thoroughly compromised the quality of the footage, but I trust you'll get the general idea. The song is by a band I've never heard of before, called Shivearee. By zen, I happened upon it. Enjoy the adorable-ness.

A Sign of the Times

2008-05-29T15:59:00.005-04:00

I've been showing Mia sign language for certain things since she was about five or six months. Last week, she started doing them herself! She's already demonstrating signs for "more," "finished," and "Mommy." I'm so excited! We never got to see Connor do any signs, although I used them with him as much as I do Mia (He decided at 8 months to just start talking outright and didn't want to bother with forming his hands into funky shapes. Let's just say he could have inherited his motor skills from either of us....sorry, Son.). I am presently working on introducing two or three more words into her signing vocabulary. We'll see what she thinks.

Baby Signing Website

Here's a photo of one of her earliest attempts at signing. It's her adaptation of "more." She taps her thumb on her highchair tray. Please forgive her pitiful expression...Princess Mimi is nursing an ear infection this week, poor monkey. She's not her smiley self at present.

Teaser

2008-05-27T15:34:00.005-04:00

Sunday was a monstrously good time! Photos and/or video coming soon.

It's Official

2008-05-23T10:53:00.002-04:00

He's three.

Oogie Boogie!

2008-05-20T14:33:00.004-04:00

We're getting ready for Connor's birthday party this Sunday. He is super excited--yesterday at Target, my typically bashful (to strangers, at least) young man enthusiastically informed our pharmacist that he was "havin' a monster birthday party!" When he's asked how old he's going to be, he will thrust out the "A-ok" sign, which is apparently easier than coaxing his index, middle and ring fingers to cooperate. Very cute.

His guest list is far healthier than the turnout we were expecting for a long weekend; I'm mighty glad Steve's parents agreed to come down for the afternoon and lend a hand. Today I bought a boatload of junk food (sorry, parents) and some table decorations. I hope it's as cute as what I'm picturing. Entertainment will feature several sprinkler toys (slip'n'slide included, naturally!), a small bounce house, a ball toss, and "make your own monster mask!" Aside from the traditional cake and ice cream, guests will have the opportunity to dine on dirt and worms and guzzle green and purple punch.

Daddy's Girl

2008-05-14T20:37:00.004-04:00

Steve's in Minneapolis until tomorrow night. His absence generally stands to complicate bedtime routines in this household, so this evening I prepared for the standoff from my two-year-old. He was uncharacteristically cooperative. Strangely, my usually compliant 10-month-old simply would not lay her head down for bed this evening. Instead she pulled herself up, stood at the crib rail, and mournfully called out for "Da-da." Frankly, I didn't expect her to notice he was missing just one night. I found my cell phone, called him, and put her ear to it. She positively lit up. "Da-da," she whispered, and reached for his picture, which pops up whenever we're connected. "Da-da-da-da!" He laughed. She laughed. He laughed. She laughed again. The two of them were having their own little conversation. This lasted several seconds. Satisfied, she popped her thumb into her mouth and clutched Pinky Bear. She looked at me as if to say "All right. Let's go to bed." Night night, Daddy. See you soon.

Rescue Efforts

2008-05-13T21:44:00.006-04:00

I have nothing but respect for most of God's creatures. I even like snakes. From a distance.

Steve would say I'm fooling myself.

Imagine my horror when I casually shuffled...barefoot...into my garage yesterday morning to behold one of the glue traps our exterminator had tucked behind the deep freeze, harboring a captive. You guessed it. The trap had magically walked itself about three feet across the garage floor and was sitting there, unapologetically. All I could see was a dark loop of body hanging from one open end of the little cardboard box. It was about as big around as my finger. That glimpse alone inspired in me what's known as the "vermin dance." If you're female, you are already doing it in your head. For the guys, it involves a lot of tiptoeing in place and vigorous shaking of both hands. Muffled noisemaking optional, but encouraged. Once I got that out of my system, I decided to examine the thing. Yep, still alive. A little black racer, a bit longer than a foot in length, had probably slithered in there after a spider and found himself utterly befudged. He'd managed to get his head and various points on his body well gummed, right onto the roof of the trap. He sat there, terrified, his tongue flicking out periodically, his sides heaving...and every time he squirmed I flinched. The little fella and I spent about an hour together right there in my driveway, as I painstakingly pried him loose with a pair of fingernail scissors. I was finally able to release him , covered in cucumber melon scented baby powder (to keep him from re-sticking as I worked), into the woods behind our house. He looked fairly traumatized, but without serious injury. I was pretty proud of myself. God speed, little guy. Stay the crap away from my garage.

Gettin' Crafty

2008-05-03T09:53:00.005-04:00

I've completed two projects this week requiring scissors and glue. Both were super fun, but one of them could have been a whole lot simpler if I hadn't gotten so carried away. Below you'll see an example of Connor's "monster" birthday party invitation (after I made the first one, I thought, "This is cute, but my hand is cramping a little..." After sixteen, I thought "I am stupid."):

The rest are before-and-after photos of my little toddler rocking chair, all spiffed up and refurbished for my sweet daughter. I found the fabric at Hobby Lobby, and it just said "Mia." I'll miss the original Holly Hobbie upholstery, but it had to go--years of storage in my grandparents' attic had rendered it musty and grayish. Years ago, my entire bedroom was tricked out in like fashion--I had the bedspread and canopy, the curtains, the dolls...everything. Those little prairie girls in the giant bonnets were apparently huge in the late seventies:

Apparently, this style of rocker was also a popular item in the seventies, since Steve has one from his babyhood that's an identical frame, with a slightly lighter finish on the wood and decidedly more boyish upholstery. It's at his mom's house, and my plan is to re-do it so the kids can have coordinating rockers. I'll post pics when that happens.

Monkey Shines

2008-04-22T15:01:00.004-04:00

Another bit about the Divine Miss M. She's now begun talking in earnest! Sunday she started calling both Steve and myself "Da-da." We weren't sure at first whether she was just babbling as usual, but it became apparent those sounds had a purpose, as she'd repeat it with gusto when she wanted to be picked up. So I'm "Da-da" for now. I'll take it. What a thrill! She tells her daddy good morning now, with a cheery "Ah, Da-da!" Who could resist her? We'll work on "Ma-ma" later.

Today at lunch I cocked my head and peeped at her across the table, and she did the same. I pattered my hands on her high chair tray and she copied me. We kept up this game a good five minutes before Big Brother couldn't stand the diversion and decided to put his dirty feet on the table. "Now laugh at me, Mommy," he said. I commenced to rib tickling my boy. I'll just eat her up when Connor's napping later.

Pulling Up and Letting Loose

2008-04-15T14:42:00.009-04:00

She did it! Mia pulled herself right up into a standing position, unassisted this morning. I don't know whether to cheer or cry. She's been fiercely intent upon practicing her walking lately, grabbing onto fingers and pulling us down the hall and around and around the living room, singing and drooling to beat all. I know it's a bizarre worry, but I sometimes wonder whether she'll take the time to crawl before she toddles. She has always detested being placed on her belly, and even refused to roll herself over for months after she discovered she could, perhaps only as an act of sheer stubbornness. The child has her own ideas about how to get about, and we can't dissuade her. I recall a similar scenario with her brother, though, wherein I thought he'd end up skipping the all fours stage, and he ended up delighting us with an abbreviated version, "commando-crawling" across the floor for a week or so, crawling outright another, and finally walking right after that. He was a crawler for about a heartbeat and a half. Enough to satisfy us. I think we may have gotten it on video. Once.

And on to legitimate concerns. Connor's teacher took me aside this morning and asked whether I had noticed how frequently he has to go to the bathroom at home. I guess he's going a lot at school and it worried her. I hadn't thought much about it until now, but he sure does go a lot, sometimes three or four times in an hour. I've just been so doggone thrilled that he's depositing all that in a toilet instead of a diaper nowadays, I haven't taken stock of just how often that is. His teacher mentioned that frequent urination, among other symptoms, can be a sign of diabetes. We already knew this--in fact, before he turned two, I remember bringing up to his pediatrician that he seemed to have odd behavioral issues that appeared to be linked to low blood sugar--but we never had him tested. His three-year checkup is coming up. I think I will revisit that topic with Dr. Jeannie.

Miz Loretta also informed me, incidentally, that my young fellow decided during outside time this morning, to take it upon himself to drop trou and relieve himself right there on the cedar chips by the swings. In front of God and everybody. I will assume fault for this one. At home, I let him pee in the yard. It's so much easier than untangling his sister from the baby swing and hauling everyone inside every ten minutes. Like I said, he goes a lot. I guess our next lesson will be "places that are appropriate to use as a toilet."

Friends and Family

2008-04-14T21:05:00.007-04:00

What an amazing weekend filled with simple pleasures. We spent the latter half of the week and the weekend too, visiting my grandparents in Montgomery and some dear friends in Calera. Below are the highlights. You can click on the mosaic to enlarge the images.

Stop, Time.

2008-04-08T10:58:00.003-04:00

It's still the beginning of April, so I can't very well post a "month-in-review" blog. I am, however, compelled to reflect on the all-too-rapid growth of my little sweet ones.

I went to drop Connor off at Mother's Day Out this morning, as I have every Tuesday since August. He handed me his backpack and juice and bounced off to join his friends, just like he always does. I watched him join right up with his little friend Keaton, the only other boy in his class, and the two of them set to work pushing little balls thru an obstacle toy, giggling every time one got away across the floor. The three girls in his class were across the room, huddled around a miniature stroller, into which they were trying to fasten a baby doll. Everyone was engaged in organized conversation and play. It dawned on me. These kids used to be babies. Last fall. Look at them now! Little people. Wow, that was fast.

In the past year, Connor has learned to socialize like a big kid, draw recognizable shapes and objects, and he's ditched the diapers (hallelujah). He's able to tell a story based on a sequence of events, and express complex thoughts and opinions. He's even trying to scrawl out letters and numbers. I sometimes miss the days when a teething toy would keep him occupied for half an hour. Still, it's so much fun to watch his personality emerge. He's really into yard tools these days. Not just his beloved lawn mowers, but leaf blowers and rakes and hoes and hedge clippers. Maybe someday he'll go into landscaping. The kid spends literally hours outside just "working on the yard," as he soberly describes it. I notice him developing empathy, as he worries about his sister when she cries (he can make her laugh again like nobody else). He can also come up with some real zinger questions. "Mommy, what's a lie? Mommy, what does hope mean?" He's so excited about his third birthday coming up. He's put in a request for a tricycle with pedals.

And at nine months, Miss Mimi is on the fast track to toddlerhood. It seems like she was just in my tummy. She watches her brother zoom around the house and I can see her yearn to chase him. Until recently, she was more than content to sit and observe the passers-by, but it's simply not enough anymore. She squirms to get off my lap, even though she can't go anywhere once she's down. She's now cruising the furniture with increasing steadiness, and grabbing at anything within her reach. She eats like a garbage disposal, anything she's offered, and she loves to cram table food into her own mouth. She's making efforts to crawl, although she can't figure out how to propel forward yet. I think she's going to be a "backward crawler" for a little while, like her brother was. If she's like him, she won't crawl long. My next project is to rearrange everything in the house that's lower than 2 feet from the floor! I love the little sounds she makes when she's content. Little singsongy, distinctly feminine gurgles. She still loves her thumb and pink bear blankie for comfort. She wore the loving out of them last week when she cut four teeth at the same time. What misery that was. Now they've all come thru, and that makes six total. It makes me nervous when I nurse her, but she hasn't nibbled me in a couple months. I'll miss her toothless smile!

Maybe the most delightful thing to watch lately is the blossoming relationship between Sister and Brother in our house. Mia's always idolized him, from the time that she could focus her eyes. Connor's usually bent on avoiding her, but increasingly, I catch the two of them actually playing together. He makes her absolutely cackle. At mealtimes, they sit across from one another and flirt. He brings her toys and even shares his own once in a while. When she wakes, he finds me to let me know, then goes to her crib to entertain her until I can get there. Once she's mobile, the two of them will be unstoppable.

Prom princess Leslie

2008-04-01T11:17:00.007-04:00

My cousin (whose diapers I have changed) went to her senior prom Saturday night. I was most honored to be able to help her with makeup and snap a few creative photos of her. She was stunning.

What am I going to do with this kid?

2008-03-25T20:53:00.002-04:00

Connor sat on my lap as I checked my email this afternoon.

"What's that spell, Mommy? G-O-O-G-L-E."

"Google."

"Oh! The 'E' is silent."

Good lord. He'll be three in late May.

HAPPY EASTER!

2008-03-22T20:01:00.002-04:00

I'll hold them a little tighter tonight.

2008-03-19T20:44:00.006-04:00

As is often the case, another blog has inspired the content of today's entry.

Monday the kids and I went to Vandergriff Park to meet up with a playgroup. Despite the weather being a touch on the chilly side at first, by the time we had crammed our cold fries and clammy McLunch down our gullets (let she whose hungry-past-reason children can allow her to drive past those Golden Arches without outcry cast the first stone), it was downright balmy. A more perfect day for a park outing there never was. Two busloads of Georgia kindergarteners thought the same. I'll admit it was crowded. Connor was a little disappointed that all the swings were occupied, even the toddler ones (how those leggy little monkeys got back out of them I'll never know. Big kids are extra bendy.), but it was a nice opportunity for a lesson in turn-taking, so he motored around the rest of the equipment, trying his best not to get trampled by the herds. Mia was Mia, just content to be observing, and there was so much to see! She just perched in her little wagon seat, craning her neck this way and that as they all buzzed by. After a few minutes I spotted a vacant baby swing, and we jetted for it. Success! We did the patented "tandem" maneuver, where I sit Connor in the front side of the swing, and then wedge Sissy behind him, facing the opposite direction (This "swing sharing" technique will very soon render itself obsolete--I don't remember it being such a tight squeeze the last time I put them in together...). Two blissful babies for an entire ten minutes until Connor decided he'd had enough. I let him out while I continued to push Miss Smiley Face. I'm a sucker for that gummy grin. A few more minutes and I noticed the little girl beside us had slowed her swing and was watching us shyly. She had a messy brown ponytail and adorable little wire-rimmed glasses. "Would you like to push her?" I asked. She nodded. I resisted the urge to resume control as she hoisted Mia a little higher than I would have liked. "Ooh, gently! She doesn't like to go too high," I told her. She pushed softly now. "I have a little baby brother," she said. "Oh really? Is he at home today or at daycare?" I smiled. "He's with another family," she replied. "We were taken away from my mommy."
Wow.
That hit me like a punch to the gut. I wanted to ask her what had happened, but I wasn't about to. I wanted to take her home with me and brush her hair and tuck her in. I realized the little girl who'd been watching my little girl so longingly probably wasn't simply hoping to push her swing. She was admiring the whole picture. Mother and child enjoying each other.

It was about that moment when one of the chaperones blew a whistle and the kindergarteners lined up to board their bus. I watched her blend in with the rest of them.

Real Mama Drama

2008-03-13T14:52:00.005-04:00

TLC has devised another delightful means of making the At-Home-Mom suffer more guilt (and they said it couldn't be done). It's a wonderful program they're calling "The Secret Life of a Soccer Mom." It's hosted by Tracey Gold (She's still working?) and its basic premise is giving the "Housewife" a taste of the life she gave up to raise her family. They take a mommy, whisk her away to re-visit her abandoned career, all the while telling Daddy and the kids that she's at a spa all week. At the end of the week, Mommy is enticed away from her drudgy home life with the offer of a full-time position. Will she take the job or go back to full-time home status? The episode I saw featured an ex-chef whose passions were rekindled successfully, but who ultimately couldn't justify shelling out most of her new paycheck in exchange for child care. Tack on a husband who's now feeling horrible because he's watched his wife have to abandon her dreams TWICE and he can't afford to quit his own job to trade out for hers. What a feel-good hour. They're all so glad they came on the show. Granted, I've seen just one episode. It's my sincere hope that the rest of them feature moms who come out of the other side of the experience with increased resolve about their original decisions to put careers on hold. After all, it's not necessary to remind a woman of what she gave up for her family's sake. Chances are she's aware of that. It's always gratifying, however, for her to be reminded of why she did. We need to steer away from this stereotype of the "Desperate Housewife." Not all of us are huddled in front of the television in our sponge rollers, straining to hear "As the World Turns" over the wailing of toddlers, waiting for our lives to change.

The bees and I are rolling in the clover

2008-03-12T15:08:00.004-04:00

Today I want to drive with the windows down and hang my arm out. Scoop and dive my outstretched hand thru that delicious warm air and just DRIVE. Blast that stereo. Beach trip, anyone?

It's apparent I've got a severe case of Spring Fever. I doubt I'm alone, since as far as I have been told, the rest of the free world has been smothered under a blanket of rampant flu for the past two months. We haven't had it that bad, but we're coming to the end of a second week of sniffles, coughs and subsequent troll-like attitudes in our household. And what was with that freak snowfall last weekend? It's March, for crying out loud. This misery has got to end soon.

I get this way every year. Steve will back me up on this. You'd not think it to look at me, a fair-skinned, freckly cave bat who spent the majority of her childhood slathered with Vapo-rub and dragging on an albuterol inhaler...but I love this time of year. Bugs, pollen and all.

I had a monumental "me" day yesterday (the last one was sometime in 2001), and left my snoozing little ones in the care of their sneezing father (or were they sneezing and he snoozing? It doesn't matter.) in search of ONE new garment to wear to a wedding on Saturday. I'm in love with this season's fashions, since they're all Empire-waisted and loose-fitting, and I am hanging onto about thirty pounds of pregnancy blubber (ok, I won't blame the kids entirely here), and the last thing I want to see when I gaze in the mirror is that Uniroyal tire around my middle, desperately trying to muscle its way right past the fabric straining to contain it. I found an adorable dress. It's even nursing-capable. I'm not mentioning what size I had to purchase, however. I resisted the urge to buy myself an entire wardrobe. Perhaps staring at creeping double digits on the garment label will be the impetus for a health overhaul in my life. Still happy I got to shop! Later that evening, I made a second escape and had a delightful dinner with girlfriends, sipping chai tea and telling stories on my two-year-old. Despite my having suffered a marathon of nights filled with broken sleep and weepy babes, I felt more energized than I have in such a long time. If we had a porch swing, I'd be on it right now.

2008-03-09T22:24:00.004-04:00

Here are four generations of Medlin: John Albert, John Paul, John Steven and John Connor. Granddad wasn't wearing his wedding ring in the photo; I hear he's also pretending he doesn't know Granny at church. Foxy.

What we do on chilly mornings

2008-02-25T16:53:00.004-05:00

All the technology-infused toys in the universe do not compare to the fun of a good old cardboard box.

Boys will be boys?

2008-02-22T14:53:00.004-05:00

One of my son's prized toys happens to be a shiny red miniature vacuum cleaner. I bought it for him when he was about thirteen months old when he began admiring mine so much. It looks exactly like a real Dirt Devil upright. When it's turned on, tiny foam pellets dance around in a little window and it makes a delightful motor sound, which is undoubtedly why Connor loves it so much. He's also quite rough on it, and that's probably what caused the handle to snap off a few days ago. Connor was troubled only briefly; he brought the mangled toy to me and quickly directed his interest elsewhere in the playroom. Neither of us thought much about it after that. Then last night, he picked up the broken handle of the vacuum, looked it over briefly, and with a flicker in his eye that could only be described as "instinct," he raised it to his cheek, leveled it, and scrutinized his vision down the shaft of the thing. "Ka POW!" he shouted. Cut to me, suppressing mild disdain. We don't allow toy guns in our house, and we're fairly selective about what we allow Connor to watch on television. Where had he picked up this notion? I asked him.

"The Incredibles, Mommy."

Score one for the little guy. We let him watch that one. Wow, that plastic handle does look a lot like a pistol. Weird. Should I take evasive action?

Christian author John Eldredge seems to be the popular subject of bloggery amongst my friends these days. If you're not familiar with his books, there are two you simply must read. The first, about the heart of a woman, is entitled Captivating, and although I have yet to read it, I am told it is amazing and insightful and reveals how women are made by God to desire to be valuable, to be sought after, and to be fought for. Incidentally, that's the same relationship we are designed to have with our Lord. Wild At Heart, which I have read, is the second book. It's a comparable look into the psyche of the male, about how he desires three things, namely, a battle to fight, an adventure to live, and a beauty to rescue. For me it was most enlightening. Here's a passage that was brought to my mind last night:

Capes and swords, camouflage, bandannas and six-shooters--these are the uniforms of boyhood. Little boys yearn to know they are powerful, they are dangerous, they are someone to be reckoned with. How many parents have tried in vain to prevent little Timmy from playing with guns? Give it up. If you do not supply a boy with weapons, he will make them from whatever materials are at hand. My boys chew their graham crackers into the shape of hand guns at the breakfast table. Every stick or fallen branch is a spear, or better, a bazooka. Despite what many modern educators would say, this is not a psychological disturbance brought on by violent television or chemical imbalance. Aggression is part of the masculine design, we are hardwired for it. If we believe that man is made in the image of God, then we would do well to remember that "the LORD is a warrior; the Lord is His name" (Exodus 15:3)...Like it or not, there is something fierce in the heart of every man.

So here we go, cannons forward, into the mouth of boyhood. Good thing I've got Connor to defend me.