"When I turn into Emery ... "

"I'm going to go to preschool, too!" Anna Kimball has had this revelation a number of times recently. School is certainly on the brain with more talk of kindergarten in the fall for Emery popping up in our daily conversation. But we're not going talk too much about that yet ... I'm still in denial that things really are going to change that much around here come August 13.

We have this book called "Watch Out Kindergarten, Here I Come." I'll admit, sometimes it gets me a little choked up. Without fail, if Emery asks me to read it to her, and then asks for another story after, I always wind up saying yes. I think to myself, "how could I not read her another story right now? This time next year she won't even be here trying to stall before nap time." If Emery were really clever she would work this strategy to her advantage every afternoon ... and I'd probably fall for it every time.

Our incoming kindergartener's latest obsession is parties. She usually plans a party a day, sometimes more and there's always a list involved. It's convenient that it's almost always one of the baby doll or stuffed animal's birthdays, hence a perfect excuse for a party. But these aren't always birthdays we are celebrating. No, today I caught her with a ruler making a list for a measuring party. And right now, as Matt is tucking the girls in, I can hear Anna Kimball exclaiming, "I want to go to your party, too!" According to Matt, this measuring party is an all-day affair and Anna Kimball is going to get dressed up. You would, too, right? I mean it's a measuring party after all. We always wear our finest to those.

Now that Jamison is one, he is eager to assert his independence in most situations. He can climb a flight of stairs faster than you can say "We need to make a list for my candy party." Spoon feeding? No thank you. Jamison insists on forking much of his food and if you have the audacity to put the food on the fork for him, he'll just take it right off and try again himself. With limited success.

The milestone birthdays of March

Whew. The past week or so has been a blizzard of birthday anticipating, birthday celebrating, birthday birthday decompressing ... and repeat. First, Jamison turned one. One! How can it be? I spent much of the day tearing up, then exhaling a sigh of relief to have the rigors of the first year behind us, then tearing up ... and repeat.

Naturally the girls hijacked the day and my emotional imbalances and worked it to their advantage to open Jamison's presents, try out his toys, have Chick fil A for lunch (ice cream cones included of course), screen time, pizza for dinner, cake for dessert etc. etc. etc.

At one, Jamison is far more mobile than his sisters were. He loves to be outside and can say "vroom vroom" (well, it sounds more like "broom broom") when playing with cars. He adores Emery and Anna Kimball so much so that I often will let him into their room even before their appointed wake-up time. You would too if you had already been entertaining a 12-month-old in the wee dark hours of the morning for going on two hours and wouldn't mind a few moments of solitude before morning part II officially begins.

At this stage I would probably give him a C- when it comes to wake-up time and nap durations but even so, his smile and general adorableness can cover over a multitude of sleep-related sins.

Yesterday, Emery finally turned five. She's probably been talking about and anticipating this birthday for at least seven months now. In lieu of a party we loaded up the day with a ton of fun activities and treats and I think we thoroughly exhausted her to the point of her not even being too sad that the birthday was over at the end of the day.

The picture above is the only decent one I got of her all day. Every time I tell her to smile for the camera she does this smirk/smile thing which isn't exactly becoming. Sigh.

At five, Emery still has such a sweet spirit, which I know sounds vague and something nice mothers say about their daughters ... but she really does! There is something gentle and dear about her. If Anna Kimball is playful like a golden retriever, well, Emery is playful like a butterfly. She flutters, rather than romps, around the house. Emery adores being read to and would literally listen to me read the phone book I think, if there still were such a thing.

This past year it has been so fun to see her artistic side develop. I love that she isn't afraid to draw something like a giraffe,  for instance, even if she doesn't "know how to." Knowing that she loves to draw is becoming a pretty awesome ticket to have in my pocket when it's clear that she is bored and fluttering around the house with nothing to do.

What Emery wanted most for her birthday was a fish. So she woke up on her birthday to a red, male fish we named Cinco (get it, Spanish for five? :))

Well, today Cinco died. Talk about a birthday letdown.

But, it turns out this everything is actually ok. Apparently Emery really wanted a blue, female fish. Maybe we will name her Cinderella. And pray she doesn't croak when the clock strikes midnight.

Happy birthday Jamison and Emery! We love you!

Anna Kimball is three

Somewhere in the middle of a two-week stretch in which we all passed around a nasty cold and our house resembled a snowstorm of Kleenex, Anna Kimball turned three. (I'm beginning to think we should start celebrating her half-birthday in a bigger way since maybe then she would have enough healthy friends to have a real birthday party. January is the worst!) Mercifully her birthday fell on a day that wasn't quite as snotty or miserable as the rest and we all enjoyed celebrating her life immensely.

It's funny to look back on Emery when she turned 3 and realize how different these two girls are. When Emery turned three she had already established a passion for Cinderella. Anna Kimball could give a hoot about Cinderella, or any other princess for that matter. She knows she's "supposed" to like Snow White since Emery has already claimed Cinderella, but in truth she really has a thing for Arthur.

Here she is modeling her new Arthur "pack-back."

Emery was quick to point out that it is a "boy"color, but judging from the smile on her face, I don't think Anna Kimball minds a bit.

We kept the day simple, but full of fun surprises like trip to Target where the girls got to pick something out from the dollar section and lunch and ice cream at Chick-fil-A.

Of course there was also plenty of playtime at our neighbor's house, from whom Anna Kimball also received her gigantic three balloon.

I wish I could convey accurately in words just how silly and special Anna Kimball is. There's just something about her that's particularly fun and light-hearted. One friend has compared her to a Muppet and commented that she just seems game for anything. Just watching her putter around the house all day, terribly busy with her play kitchen and tending to her baby dolls is enough to give me the giggles. Anna Kimball adores and looks up to Emery, but when Emery is at preschool, I don't think she misses her a bit. (this gives me some relief as we anticipate kindergarten for Emery in the fall.)

There's a lot I could learn from Anna Kimball. She doesn't seem to think too hard about anything, is quick to share with her older sister and is seemingly unperturbed about her failures (i.e. doesn't mind a lick when she has yet another pee accident all over the floor). Anna Kimball, you are a bright ray of sunshine in our house and we don't know what we'd do without you. Not laugh as much, that's for sure. Happy birthday sweet Anna Kimball, we love you!

I think it's a spring flicker

Last night the girls and I walked up to our neighbor's house for a quick visit. It was raining lightly and when Emery noticed the water hitting her cheeks she wondered aloud, "What is that hitting my face?" I told her it was sprinkling but she quickly corrected me, letting me know that it was a spring flicker hitting her face.

Of course. Sometimes I just don't know what to do with her outfit choices other than laugh. They are part ridiculous and part perfectly appropriate for a lively almost five-year-old little girl. Who knew when we went shoe shopping last week that the pair she selected would coordinate so well with her outfit?

In other news, Anna Kimball is mastering the art of potty training. I'm writing this down here so that I won't be discouraged when it comes time to train Jamison -- the first day and a half is dreadful, awful, beyond frustrating, but then it will click. It will.

On day two she took her show on the road to our neighbor's house (does it sound like we go there a lot? We do.) This pic will definitely be making into her rehearsal dinner slideshow one day.

As for Jamison, he's still lapping the house on all fours, most often in search of me. I try to treasure the first hour or so he is awake in the morning, even if it's before 6am, because it is only then that he is truly and utterly content with anything and anyone.

I can't believe we will be celebrating his first birthday in two months. Whoever coined the phrase "The days are long, but the years are short," hit it spot on. This year has been no exception, although when I think back to last March it seems a lifetime ago. Jamison loves to clap his hands, observe his sisters' antics, not play with any of his toys but eat all manner of refuse on the floor and attempt to snatch my iPhone wherever I might have laid it down.

Sometimes I just want to eat his face -- I love the girls but I don't think I ever had quite the appetite for their cheeks as I do for his.

'Tis the season for ...

Winter weddings. Emery was a flower girl in our neighbor's daughter's wedding last week and she handled herself, and her jingle-bell pompadour oh-so-gracefully. For a four-year-old that is ... she had to stand up front with the bridesmaids for the whole ceremony and was only somewhat distracting as she tried to decide what exactly to do with her pompadour. Should it be a purse or maybe a baby in her arms? Maybe she should turn around and see what the bridesmaids are up to? There were nearly 400 guests at the wedding but that didn't seem to bother her - there is so much to love about the lack of self-conscience young children have. I know I will cry the day that changes.

Minor surgery. This was a simple procedure we knew Jamison would need soon after he was born. I just dreaded actually going through with it mainly because I knew he would have to fast before anesthesia and, well, what baby wants to do that? I have to say, though, that once we got through that part, and really it wasn't that bad since Matt took care of distracting Jamison from his favorite food source, it turned out to be one of the best days I've had in a while. I got to sit in a private waiting room alone and listen to podcasts alone, read alone and just BE alone. It was heavenly. No, wait, here's what was heavenly - finally getting to feed Jamison and then holding him in my arms while he slept and literally COOED for a very long time.

Christmas windows. We took the girls on a mystery ride the other night to see the Christmas windows downtown. Left Jamison cooing in his crib with a sitter. The displays this year didn't seem quite as magical or enticing to children as they have in the past but we still managed to get a few "wide-eyed wonder" photo opps.

Red overalls. This boy just keeps melting me. He is motoring around the house on all fours faster everyday. I think he set a record today because usually he just crawls around whatever room he is in. Today he finally realized he could find me when I left the room and I think he did several laps around the house as a result. So now we can bid farewell to the awfulness that is him screaming every time I leave the room? One can only hope ...

Haircuts and chocolate

This morning the girls were playing in their room with the door closed. This isn't unusual these days, but it doesn't mean they're just sitting on their beds reading books. (Although actually it did the other day when they were pretending to "nap.") Still, it was so nice to have a little peace and quiet that I tried not to wonder what was going on in there.

Anna Kimball eventually wandered into the living room and said something about how she didn't want a haircut. To which I said, "No, honey, that's ok. You don't need a haircut." Didn't think much of it until I went to check on Emery a few minutes later ...

She was in a corner, kneeled over with her head on the ground, silent. And then I saw the scissors. And the hair. And the deeply ashamed look on her face.

Funny thing is she sort of gave herself bangs and it doesn't look terrible. But I do believe she feels pretty terrible because every time I have mentioned it today the ashamed look comes back on her face and she quickly murmurs "Sorry."

Emery tends to be a model firstborn who plays by the rules and I kind of didn't think we'd go through this rite of passage. On the other hand, she has been begging me for a haircut the past few weeks. I guess she got tired of waiting. :) So we're getting a proper one tomorrow.

Tonight I told Matt that for much of the day I feel like crying and stuffing my face with chocolate. Just so he knows. And he does. It's that hard here in this house with three kids under 5, including one boy who shall remain nameless but is a terrible napper and frequently cannot tolerate it when I leave the room or when he is plopped on the kitchen floor over and over and over again. We are at that stage with him that we just have to keep handing him plastic to play with, any kind of plastic, anything that seems safe and interesting. And so the house is an utter disaster between all of his gizmos that don't really entertain him that much and all of the imagination explosions the girls concoct, which I love love love but dread dread dread supervising the clean up process for.

For the record, though, I did not cry today. And I kept the chocolate intake to one salted dark chocolate caramel and a small handful of chocolate chips. If that's not victory than what is?

Lately

"Water doesn't taste like anything. I'm tired of water," said Emery at dinner the other night.

What she isn't tired of is jumping. The girl is a crazy jumping bean these days. Every time I turn around she's jumping up and down as if I just announced we were going to live at the ice cream store. It took her a long long long time to learn how to jump, so I guess she is just making up for lost time.

Halloween came and went and naturally there were a fair amount of emotional displays from Anna Kimball regarding "more candies!" In fact, I even caught her licking away on a second lollipop after I told her she could only have one. Par for the course, I know, but seeing as how Emery is a first-born rule follower to the letter, I simply have no template for this kind of misdemeanor ... other than to throw that lollipop in the garbage and keep my eye on this one a little closer now. Oh and try not to start worrying about teenage rebellion yet.

I'm thankful the girls aren't really aware that many moms buy or make expensive and/or elaborate costumes for Halloween. That is just not my scene, at least right now. We were able to keep it simple with a borrowed Raggedy Ann suit for Anna Kimball and a few random items from the dress-up bin for Emery.

For Jamison, well, he got about four minutes in the spotlight. His average bedtime is 5:15 so he had already begun his night by the time the festivities started. I did manage to get him into our signature baby giraffe costume for a few minutes so that he could snag a little candy from our dear neighbor.

One big pumpkin ... one little boy!

At dinner tonight Emery prayed and the end of her prayer went something like this, "And I don't want to do anything. I just want to wash dishes and help Mommy in the kitchen when she is cooking. Amen."

Well, Emery, lots of times I don't want to do anything either. If you can manage to feed this family of five and keep the kitchen spic-and-span, have at it!