"i wanna mow the grass."

Being a toddler is hard. Very hard. Very, very, very hard. Throw a toy lawnmower into the mix and all hell breaks loose. Seriously.

I could expand upon the previous paragraph, but it makes me tired to even think about it. Please enjoy the smiles you see here (preschool yesterday). This is NOT always the case.

I'm going to blame my poor blogging on Adam going to bed at 9:30 and me not having access to the 'puter. Both the girls are down for naps at the moment, so I have a free moment, but the urge to go crash out along with them is too overwhelming. I will cave. And I will enjoy it.

Sleep and I are still not getting along very well, especially at night. It makes my brain hurt and keeps my words trapped in my head.


Above are Charlie Ann, Walker, and Gracen on their big hayride last week. We had a preschool field trip to Ganyard Hill farms, where they got to play with little animals, climb a hay mountain, go through corn and hay mazes and pick their own pumpkin. The daddyman took off of work to go play with us. I'm so happy fall is here!

We just got back from playfightgroup. The three aforepictured sweetnesses are learning social skills these days (very slowly I might add). Again, it's very hard to be a toddler.

Above is the Roo passed out on the Papa at Walker's 3rd birthday celebration. See, she IS still little!!

shat.

I forgot to knock on wood after my last post. Figures.
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When Amy brought Gracen back from preschool this afternoon, I was most impressed to see that the Boo was still wearing the same pair of pants. This would mean, of course, that we had no potty-related accidents.
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Prenap talk:

M: I'm so proud of you for going pee and poop in the potty at school!!

G: I no poop in the potty.

M: Oh, you didn't poop today at school?

G: (giggling) I poop in the grass.
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Another conversation right down the road from our house:

Amy: Walker, you stepped in dog poo.

Walker: That's not dog poop, that's Gracen's!
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Are you kidding me with this, kids?!?!
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I sent an email to the teacher, apologizing profusely and offering to go hunt down the pile. She called this evening, trying to contain her laughter. She had been most perplexed trying to figure out how a dog made it on to the playground. Walker wasn't the only casualty. Great. I'm not quite as amused as the rest of the world!!
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The photograph above is taken from their classroom blog, which is updated daily so the parents get a peek into what happened during the day. I haven't checked today's for fear of something like, "Walker and Archie play with lawnmowers while Gracen takes a dump under the old apple tree." She's going to hate me for this post in about 15 years, but seriously kid. YOU SHAT ON THE PLAYGROUND AFTER I VERY SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU NOT TO!!! Have I mentioned that I hate pottytraining?!

Avery is officially laughing her head off and can blow raspberries. She's a genius. I know.

Wyatt.

Welcome out, Wyatt. We're so happy you're here! And thank you for giving your Mama an easy time on your grand entrance. We love you all!!! I'm thinking we may not be able to wait until spring for a Colorado visit. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have obviously returned to my former blogslacker ways. Sorry for the pause. I could write a grand list of valid excuses, but they can best be summed up as: Gracen and Avery. I think we've finally hit our groove in this family of four business. We may have our moments of chaos, but they're generally shortlived, and we're able to wade through it relatively unscathed. Miss Avery is officially sleeping in her crib these days (okay, we're only on day five and she's sneaked into my bed already tonight, but she had shots today, and I'm feeling sorry for her). I nurse her to sleep, put her in there, and then put her in bed with me when I go to sleep (and yes, I still sleep in her room). I'm a sucker for co-sleeping and the family bed. I believe in it and the security and attachment it fosters. I also believe my sleep is important, and if I actually took the time to get out of bed and nurse her twice a night, I'd lose at least an hour. And considering I don't go to bed until 1-ish and I wake at 7-ish, that hour means a lot. Let me be the first to say that I realize it's incredibly stupid to go to bed that late, especially since Aves goes down at 7:30 and the G at 8:00. Oh, and Adam at 10:00. But frequently I don't get my runs in until after 9:00, so I'm wired on whatever it is that wires one who runs too damn late at night. And also, it's the only time of the day that belongs to me, and only me. I need that time. Often it's spent washing dishes or clothes or scraping an unidentifiable substance from the couch, but it's still my time where nobody needs anything from me. I kinda dig it.

Avery went for her 4 month check today. She was 14 lbs 9.5 oz (75%) and 26 1/2 inches (>97%). She and Gracen are actually pretty close to the same size at this age, which is crazy considering their starting weights (A:9-13 vs. G:7-7). She's rolling all over the place, officially laughing, and just being hopelessly adorable. The girls are constantly interacting now, which is awesome to watch. I think Gracen is beginning to get annoyed with the hair pulling and nose pinching, but she's remaining kind and calm in the face of mild torture. I'm sure she'll be this way when she's 13 as well... Gracen is loving her school more and more. She comes home singing songs we don't know, playing games we had forgotten about, saying hundreds of new words and talking in full conversation. Her teacher Beth has recently become our babysitter as well, which is beyond awesome. After spending time with the G at home and realizing that she really is potty trained at the house, Beth wanted us to start sending her to school sans diaper!! So far so good, though she did drop the pantalones on the playground for a quick pee. What can you say? At least she didn't poop. At this point we're only wearing diapers to sleep, which is very exciting!

Yesterday's chat on the front porch after nap time:

Gracen: Mommy, what's that? (pointing at the ground)

Mama: That's a wood roach.

G: What that mean? Is it a bug?

M: Yes, it's a bug and it likes to irritate your mother along with all his little friends.

G: What it doing?

M: (kicking it) Humm, it looks like it's dead.

G: What dead mean, Mommy?

M: (slightly freaking out and wishing Adam were home) Dead is like it goes to sleep for a long time.

G: Oh, Dacie go to sleep for a h(l)ong time too!

M: Well, this is a different kind of sleep because it doesn't wake back up.

G: Oh, it take a weeew(real) hong nap. It go nite-nite in daytime and Dacie go nite-nite at 8 o'clock. (Diego just discussed nocturnal on his show)

M: Okay. (not sure of where to go from here)

G: (poking it) Why it not wake up. Open da eyes bug. Open da eyes.

M: It can't wake up because it dead. It's little body is there, but what makes him move around is gone now.

G: Huh? What mean, Mommy?

M: Umm, I think it's gone to little bug Heaven to play with other little wood roaches?

G: No, dat's silly. It wake up in a h(l)ittle bit. I give it some water. (and she pours the dogs' water on the poor dead creature)

And then I kicked it off the porch to avoid further questioning. How do you explain death to a 2 year old?! Seriously, I need some advice. I'm pretty sure "little bug heaven" doesn't quite cut it.

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One of our dear friends, Scott Nurkin, is an artist. He and Adam became friends on their first day of kindergarten when their older brothers forced them to fight each other at the bus stop. They've been friends ever since. If you live in the triangle, you're sure to have seen his work, even if you didn't realize it. From restaurants, to building walls, to malls, his murals are everywhere. The man is a genius, and we love him. Recently, I commissioned a portrait of my late father, Ronny McDaniel. All I can say is: Amazing. Simply, amazing. Daddy is hanging by the back(front)door between the kitchen and dining room. While it doesn't actually seem like the best spot to hang a fine piece of art, I find that it's perfect. I see him every time I leave the house and every time I cook, do the laundry, take a dish to the kitchen. It's as if he's returned to my life somehow. And now Gracen, and soon Avery, knows her Grandpa. When we walk out the door, she'll blow him a kiss and say, "Bye Grandpa." It's an awesome thing. Both of my grandfathers passed away before I was born, both of massive heart attacks like my father, and they were always so distant and unreal to me. Thankfully, we now have a daily reminder of this man I love and miss so very much. Thank you, Scott, for giving me my Papa again.