"You don't have to tell me because I already know."

Currently, this is one of Emery's most-used responses to any information being relayed to her. I think it usually tends to be in response to good news from someone smaller than she, as in Anna Kimball is exclaiming there will be ice cream for dessert or that we are going to the pool.

So maybe our little know-it-all really is ready to start kindergarten next week.

Emery certainly is into seeming more grown-up than she actually is. I sometimes catch her talking to herself in bed, making up words to sound smarter. You know, just adding "tion" to the end of any word and using her very best professional, motherly voice.

Yet, the lack of inhibition or self-awareness is still there and for this I am so very grateful. This means she will still blurt out to the elderly man up the street getting his mail, "I know how to swim but not all the way!" No introductions, no formalities. Just getting to the point. It's great.

In the past few weeks sometimes Emery has been so dear and such a delight to be around that my heart just cannot bear the thought of sending her to school for 35 hours a week so someone else can watch her be who she is. And then a friend reminded me, "The world needs her little light. Send her out!"

True. And I did need to be told that, even though I already knew. 

Working on manners and bottles

This is how every single sentence Anna Kimball utters these days sounds:

"I wove your kitchen ... Mommy,"

"Daddy has a truck ... Mommy."

"Henny has a pool and I can go there ... Mommy."

"Emery has her sandals on ... Mommy!"

In case I forget who I am, to her and two others, she is faithfully there to remind me. Anna Kimball also is bordering on developing another habit that isn't quite as cute, one her sister developed at exactly the same age. The one where she interrupts me whenever I am talking to another adult and insists that I  "Stop talking Mommy!" so that she can get her very important question posed, statement uttered, or what-have-you.

So we are working on manners these days and I am seriously considering strapping my four-year-old in a high chair any minute now for I am beginning to lose track of how many times in meal she slips out of her seat, ambling on toward more interesting pursuits than finishing her half-eaten meal.

We/I also working on not getting too freaked out by Jamison's recent refusal of the bottle. Just a stage, right? He's so darn cute otherwise, but I tell you, I didn't even want to make eye contact with him yesterday after he refused two bottles in a day. I heard him laughing in his crib and all I could think was "the nerve! to laugh!" But then of course I went in there and saw him kicking his left leg like crazy and doing this new adorable thing where he sucks in his lower lip under his upper lip and somehow I forget the dreadfulness of his bottle boycott.

Yes, Anna Kimball is sitting in Emery's lap - Emery wants to mother everyone right now :).

Moments before he tried to fly out of the Bumbo. Definitely not a reliable holding spot but it'll do for about 10 seconds. 

This was taken on a walk to the neighborhood playground early the other morning. The girls were so excited and kept exclaiming "we're having so much FUN!" Guess we haven't been frequenting the playground recently ... I loved their enthusiasm over it all because really, playgrounds get old pretty fast ... but not on that magical morning. That also happened to be the day a wet bed woke them both up at 5am, Anna Kimball put herself down for nap at 11am and we sure needed a little magic to see us through a day that literally would not end.

Nocturnal comic relief

Last night was rough. Jamison was up constantly and difficult to settle back down. Icing on the cake was that Emery, who rarely wakes us up in the night, hollered out on four different occasions with four different dilemmas. One of which was that her "foot wrists" hurt.

So I guess she doesn't know the word ankle yet. Taking solace in the fact that I was able to laugh at this despite my ever increasing sleep deficit.

Dinners on the deck

The weather's getting warmer and we're rediscovering the deck at dinnertime. This evening, I commented to Matt that a year ago today, Anna Kimball could have been walking and tromping around the deck making mischief as she has been this week with Emery, but the poor thing was still scooting. And this made having fun outside more tricky. Oh, how grateful I am that that season is behind us ... and oh how I pray this baby due to make his/her arrival any day now will outpace his/her sisters when it comes to walking. If not, well, oh well, We know no other way!

Last night Anna Kimball snagged my napkin and I sort of wondered why, but got distracted. Then, minutes later she started trying to drag the heavy cast aluminum chairs across the deck and I got frustrated. But then, Matt told me to turn around because bless her heart, she was just trying to "set the table" for her and Emery to have a second dinner. Melt me.

Last week Matt mentioned we hadn't had fish much lately and I then explained my fish frustrations - we can't get good fresh fish here, the mediocre stuff is still expensive, who really looks forward to fish for dinner, what nutritional value other than a ton of protein does the cheapest fish, tilapia, really have, etc. etc. etc. 

But then I went and bought a bag of frozen tilapia at Target and lo and behold the girls love it. So as much as I loathe being trapped into "we always have 'X' to eat on such and such a night," pan-fried tilapia might become a regular rotation in the dinner diary now.

New habits

I really wouldn't call myself a "crafty mom." However, since we've been spending more time at home recently and since perhaps I might subconsciously be trying to overwhelm the girls with my "fun-ness" before I become the sleep-deprived, irrationally emotional mother of a newborn, we've been seeing quite the uptick in visual arts around here lately.

Today's mess, I mean craft, was scented microwave puffy paint. I know, kind of sounds a little weird, but it's actually so easy and the girls had a lot of fun with it. I wouldn't say they created anything that resembled anything, although Emery did crank out a few E's that survived microwaving, but the process of whisking and squeezing the paint more than made their morning. Especially since the craft was preceded by a dreaded trip to the dentist for Emery, who screamed so hard that at one point we were surrounded by three dental hygienists as well as the dentist himself, all trying to placate poor Emery.

Since I expended so much effort with the craft and dentist, I decided to take it easy on myself for dinner. Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I am coming to grips with the fact that I often put too much pressure on myself to cook complicated dinners. Not because I think anyone around here really expects complicated, but because sometimes I don't get satisfaction from making quick-and-easy chili recipes.

I'm realizing this is going to need to change some once Baby D #3 decides to make his/her appearance, so I'd better start adjusting now. Hence, turkey chili even an eight-year-old can make. This chili comes together in less time than it takes to conduct a scented microwave puffy paint project and actually has depth of flavor. If you're like me, you probably already have most of the ingredients on hand, making it an ideal finale to a day when dinner just doesn't need to be complicated.

Halloween and a getaway

For all the build-up in Emery's little mind about Halloween, I think it lived up to its fame. For weeks, even months, she was certain she would be her "blue ballerina," which is her favorite dress-up costume that she wears nearly everyday. I wasn't about to tell her that most kids get new costumes or have their moms make them something!

Handing out candy was almost as much fun, if not more, than peddling for some herself, though encounters with scary masks forced Emery to cover her eyes while still graciously offering a Kit Kat.

Then, over the weekend, Matt and I were able to get away for a night while Grammie tended to the girls. We did quite a bit of hiking and I felt quite a bit pregnant catching my breath up the hills. I also felt quite a bit pregnant when my chicken salad sandwich at lunch just wasn't good enough (I'm sure it was fine!) and I sent it back to the kitchen with no appetite for a re-do and then pouted at my lunch of french fries.

The fall colors were glorious, as was the peace and quiet and what seemed like a decadent number of extra hours to sleep, considering that we turned the clocks back on Saturday night AND traveled to the Central Time Zone! Now that's a 24-hour vacation worth repeating.

These days ...

Anna Kimball still isn't walking (20 months and nearly 30 pounds, OUCH), but is scaling everything, her favorite mountain being Emery's Tripp Trapp high chair which is particularly precarious and apparently really fun to climb. Somehow she has the good sense to mainly climb in when Emery is not around, perhaps knowing this could incite a wee bit of jealousy and "SHE'S IN MY SEAT!!" Anna Kimball is also obsessed with standing on stools. So now I have two full-time kitchen "helpers."

Emery is attending ballet class and seems to like but not love it. I almost loathe it since the whole experience is 90 minutes door-to-door on Friday afternoons in the height of traffic and I don't even get to watch her! And I'm quite certain she just stands there while all the other girls dance around ... she's not a big participator in situations like this. In the spirit of being positive, I'm sure it's been a good experience for her in some way and I'm sure we'll all be grateful to get our free Friday afternoons back in 4 weeks.

Emery loves her little co-op preschool on Wednesdays and Parent's Day Out on Thursdays. So happy I can leave her and Anna Kimball for that matter, too, in situations like these and we don't deal with separation anxiety. I think Anna Kimball enjoys a little break from her older sister, too. Though she adores her, currently all Emery has to do is look at her funny and Anna Kimball simply can. not. take. it. Commence SCREAMING. Commence me trying not to scream as well.

Lots of bread baking going on, too. I think I just like the feeling of having something tangible to show for my day, something I put my hands to and was good, sometimes even great, not just a work in progress as these girls, sweet as they are, seem to be.

A post without pictures

Yikes, it's been more than a month since I last posted. I think one reason I delay posting is because I feel that in order for it to be a worthwhile post, it must have many fantastic pictures. Which means I need to take those pictures. And harder still, find the patience to load them onto my computer, a process which always seems mind-numbingly laborious to me, probably because it reminds me of how disorganized my pictures are and how I have way too many on my phone and laptop and I really need a backup solution in case either device ever crashes ... etc. etc. etc.

As I type, Anna Kimball is screaming her head off in her crib, which is new for us. Emery never did this and we thought that was normal. Maybe now I'm beginning to realize that Anna Kimball is the normal one who occasionally and vigorously protests bedtime and Emery is from Mars.

The girls have been playing together more frequently these days and with a touch more peace and harmony. I love this development and though I sometimes feel sorry for Anna Kimball having to deal with Emery snatching her toys so often, I realize she's very fortunate to have someone to play with in the first place.

Emery starts ballet next week. I don't have grand hopes for her to adore it or for this to become her life's passion. She'll likely be reserved and spend more time watching everyone else prance around than doing the moves herself. I just can't wait to see her in a leotard, tights and slippers every week!

OK, time to console AK. Which never works, so why do I try???

And I lied. Here is an irresistible picture of our ballerina.

To Michigan and back

As usual, we headed up to Michigan for the 4th of July week. This year we drove and leaned heavily on digital entertainment for keeping the girls quiet and happy during the 10-plus hour drive. I decided that portable DVD players and iPads are like epidurals - though generations previous never had them and got along fine without, if they could do it over again, they'd take the DVD player ... and the epidural.

I'm happy to say the girls did wonderfully in the car. In fact, I think they even have been whining more at home this week than they did in the car. What's that all about? Isn't there some kind of "everything is new again and I'm going to be happy and easily entertained at home for a least a week" thing that's supposed to happen when you get home from vacation?

I guess not. Anyway, here are a few snapshots of our week:

This was taken almost as soon as we arrived - we simply moved Anna Kimball from the prison that was her carseat into an almost equally torturous lifejacket ... and she didn't mind one bit! So happy to be outside and on the water I think.

Chairs are a BIG obsession these days ...

Stopping for a sweet treat ...

On this cool, rainy afternoon I went down to the little beach Matt's parents have set up by the lake and found Emery in nothing but her underwear singing "Jesus Loves Me" to a pile of sand. Totally normal, right?

Our bottomless pit adored our favorite restaurant in Fenton, demolishing her french toast faster than you can say "We love Michigan in the summertime!"

The water table provided plenty of entertainment and also helped Anna Kimball with standing and sitting on her own.

All of us!

Other highlights of the trip included Anna Kimball learning to climb up and down the stairs, and then realizing she would rather be carried since all that climbing is too much work, finishing strong in the Fenton Firecracker 5K only to be bested by a high school freshman who sprinted past me at the end, getting an overnight with Matt at the Detroit Athletic Club, enjoying my first cronut and eating way too much ice cream. Or wait, maybe that's not possible?

We're a little delayed

 ... and not just with Anna Kimball's walking. Emery has been in a big girl bed for more than a year now. Granted it is a BIG big girl bed that takes a little care to get in and out of (i.e. climbing onto a bean bag at the end of the bed).

Still, Emery has been capable of doing so for some time now. But never once has she gotten out of bed during nap time or at night. She always waits for me to come get her.

Last night, though, her loud crying woke me up and I was puzzled as to why it was so loud. I rushed to her room only to find her right by her door, weeping that she wasn't tired and couldn't sleep.

I realize this is par for the course when it comes to having children. I only laugh that it took Emery this long to figure out her independence. And will now prepare myself for the night in the not-too-distant future that she actually makes it all the way to MY bed to announce her insomnia.

Miscellaneous

Whenever we go to Whole Foods, we try to park by the same bench that's right under a speaker. Usually there's some fairly upbeat music playing and Emery has gotten into the habit of wanting to dance on the bench while I pack the groceries into the car. I'm finding this so comical these days, especially since I know her little antics won't last forever.

Anna Kimball, well, she's been giving me a few gray hairs recently. She fell off Emery's bed a few weeks ago and it's taken her a very long time to get back on her feet again, quite literally. Just when I was about to take her in for x-rays, she started bearing weight on her left foot again, much to my great relief. She's still nowhere close to walking, so she gets her thrills in other ways ... this week, the playground swing just made her morning.

I don't have any pictures of this, but Anna Kimball is also in the stage where she points at everything. So when I go to get her from her crib in the morning or after nap, she immediately points at the door. I don't know why I find this so endearing - maybe it's because her pointing is silent, unaccompanied by whining or long-winded demands ... though let it be said, she finds plenty of other opportunities to show me her displeasure throughout the day! Maybe it's because I love realizing that she actually knows what she wants and can communicate it and that even though she still seems like a baby in so many ways, she is growing up!

Our living room has a new name

According to Emery, our living room is actually the "fairy room ballroom." She's been referring to the living room as such for a few weeks now and I can't help but laugh as I find myself quite seriously referring to it as such, too. As in "would you like to read your stories in the fairy room ballroom?" Or "go check the fairy room ballroom for (fill-in-the-blank) that is lost."

Apparently life in the fairy room ballroom is rather exhausting (as is a temper tantrum that kicked things off to a great start that morning) - Matt found her asleep like this shortly before her nap a few Saturdays ago.

Yesterday I was getting a little desperate for ways to entertain Anna Kimball, or rather ways for her to entertain herself, so I pulled out a big basket of toiletries and hoped for no peppermint oil baths on the bed, contact solution in the hair or soap in the throat. The result? No disasters and blissful baby, which makes for a very merry mama.

All I have to say about this one is ahhhh ... 

The prelude to "why?"

Emery hasn't hit the "why?"stage yet, but I'm almost wishing it would come and save us from this:

Emery - "What are you doing?"
Me - "Scrubbing the stain off this shirt."
Emery - "What are you doing with scrubbing the stain off the shirt?"
Me - "Huh?"

Emery - "What are you doing?"
Me - "Moving the stroller upstairs."
Emery - "What are you doing with moving the stroller upstairs?"
Me - "Huh?"

Emery - "What are you doing?"
Me - "Trying to fix __ (fill in the blank with whatever is broken)"
Emery - "What are you doing with _ (fill in the blank with whatever is broken)"
Me - "AHHHH!"

***

On an unrelated note, though also comical (and messy), Emery's favorite activity in the kitchen these days is to play with the garlic. She peels off all the little shreds of papery garlic peel, puts them in cups and serves them as tea, soup, you name it. Or places an entire bulb (with a small potato for good measure) in Anna Kimball's empty water cup, insisting that she bring it with her in the car.

Though I do get a bit aggravated at seeing the garlic peels everywhere I turn in the kitchen, the germaphobe in me is glad to to see that she's found a kitchen activity that doesn't contaminate our food (she never seems to make it all the way down to the actual garlic clove) and the chef in me is happy to see that she's making herself at home in the kitchen.

Anna Kimball, on the other hand, might just prefer water to garlic next time.

Emery is three!

This past week we celebrated Emery's third birthday and I made the sacrifice of all sacrifices by baking her a "banilla" cake with "banilla" frosting (banilla as in vanilla, not some combination of banana and vanilla, instead of chocolate as I would have liked). Because let's be honest - who's going to be eating the leftovers, Emery or me?

Well, to my great surprise, Emery declared the cake "too yummy" and barely made a dent in her piece, while I developed a newfound appreciation for the true flavor of vanilla unsullied by the distraction of chocolate. Not that I'm going to be requesting a banilla cake for my birthday or anything, but let's just say I have definitely enjoyed the leftovers.

See here the birthday girl digging into her turkey meatloaf and broccoli, which I guess aren't "too yummy."

Backing up a bit, our morning started with some present opening at the breakfast table and the jewelry box from her cousins was quite a hit.

As was the Cinderella carriage CD player from Henny and Papa ...

Not to mention the real Cinderella movie, her first full-length movie to sit through! It came as a nice break amid the chaos of a birthday morning ... as well as a nice way to cap off the chaos of the day itself.

                                 

Later we headed over to Volkswagen to have lunch with Daddy and Emery proudly marched through the parking lot with her new butterfly cage / purse. It's pictures like this one that remind me she will only be a little girl for a very little while!

Our valiant attempts at a decent family photo ...

Back in the car with the butterfly catcher / Emery catcher ...

The cake that was "too yummy" and definitely screams homemade, which we shared with some neighborhood friends in lieu of full-blown birthday party ...

 Ta-da! Emery is THREE!

Some comic relief

Though every day has its share of frustrations (one being the wail that is coming from Anna Kimball's room after a mere thirty-minute nap), here's what's been making me laugh recently:

• Emery has finally become brazen enough to start tossing items in the grocery cart as she sees fit. A few weeks ago we were at Fresh Market and when we had just about finished checking out I realized we had paid for smoked salmon, pine nuts and Japanese fish sauce and were about to pay for a Ritter chocolate bar. All great ideas, yes, but not in the budget. The cashier was none too amused when she had to refund us for said items. Today we returned to Fresh Market and this time I watched Emery toss in the same smoked salmon, arrived at the checkout line to find the same pine nuts in our cart, and once again, almost scored a Ritter chocolate bar. I'm not shocked that she's doing this, but what does shock and amuse me is the repetition ... so maybe her 3rd birthday dinner will/should involve these ingredients?

• Emery got a haircut a few weeks ago and for the few hours that followed, she repeatedly asked us, "Where's my haircut?" (probably because everyone kept saying to her, "Emery, did you get a haircut?") Even now, three weeks later, out of nowhere she will inquire "Where is my haircut?" When you try to explain to her that a haircut is something that happens to you, well, you don't get very far and you begin to empathize with her confusion.

• Anna Kimball, well, she doesn't need to do much to make me laugh. Black bean soup became finger paint last night, I can't get enough of how she swings and kicks her legs in crazy mad frustration when she sees Emery running off to do something potentially very fun and she's still stuck in the highchair, and experiencing the slide at the park today was none other than hair-raisingly hysterical.

A sweet day

On Valentine's Eve though all I really wanted to do was crawl under the covers as soon as the girls went to bed, I told myself it's worth it to make the day special and exciting for the little people in this house, especially Emery. So I headed out to the craziness that is the Dollar Tree on Valentine's Eve (seriously, almost all of the junk was gone! and the lines were crazy long!) and grabbed two ballons and a Valentine stamp set, knowing full well we'd have our share of sugar the next day.

As expected, the ballons and stamps at the breakfast table were a huge hit, as was the money Henny sent, with instructions to go have a treat! Off to the donut shop we went, which also had been hit by the craziness that is Valentine's Day. All that was left were a few lonely apple fritters, a handful of glazed donuts, a potentially very messy cinnamon twist and some gnarly-looking pumpkin thing. 

A girl after her daddy's heart, Emery selected the apple fritter and I secretly was thankful that it looked huge enough to share without anyone feeling like they'd been shortchanged. Anna Kimball was openly ecstatic to participate in any kind of donut/fritter eating at all.

Then we visited with a friend at a coffeeshop and she so kindly took our picture ... while the girls so sadly didn't cooperate with their best smiles.

The rest of the day was spent delivering some Valentine's treats to friends, napping, enjoying the warm weather and sun and forgetting to take pictures. BUT, the day's sweet finish did earn a picture - my Valentine got me my very favorite dark chocolate malted milk balls, also referred to as "grown-up candy that you wouldn't like very much" to inquiring toddlers.

A day without Baby Einstein,

is a good day indeed. Not that I have anything against pulling out the screen-time card when the going gets tough, but when you're going on day nine of at least one person in the house being ill and in no shape to do anything but stare at a screen, you're pretty elated when you can make it through a day without Caillou humming in the background.

I'll spare you the juicy details, but we've been through and the stomach bug, RSV and of course what would all of this be without a token ear infection ... thankfully I've managed to bleach my way out of catching any of the germs and I do not take this for granted.

Emery at a low point ...

We had a high point when Emery was recovering from RSV and Anna Kimball hadn't quite gotten the worst of it yet ... we celebrated by escaping to a coffee shop where none of our friends go so that we wouldn't be caught breaking quarantine. Considerate, I know. But we were going BANANAS cooped up at home. (and truthfully, the doctor only told us to stay away from young children and the elderly, and nary a carseat or cane did I spy at the coffee shop)

A daffodil emerging in our front yard ... maybe a symbol of health and renewal just around the corner?

Anna Kimball at a low point ...

And the requisite cake pop while we wait for our prescription to be filled ...

Here's to many more Baby Einstein-free days to come, right? We can only hope!