Love, Mom.

                 
I started to notice that raising a boy would be an interesting experience, a few years ago, when I walked out of the house and found Sam jamming our fresh garden carrots into the front grill of our minivan..

 That is when I knew.   I was dealing with one weird little kid.  

 Take last Sunday for example.  We were enjoying a lovely dinner with a couple of the in-laws.  The weather had turned fresh and the wind was cold.   Thankfully though, we were all safe and warm inside, visiting over piping hot bowls of Soup.  That is when we all looked out the window at the same moment and saw Sam.  Riding his bike to the neighbors house.   In the snow.    In nothing but shorts and slippers. 
And a Frog costume.  

Because bothering the neighbors on Sunday isn't embarrasing enough, he's got to dress up for the event!

Dear Sam: 

I am glad that you like all the neighborhood kids, but you must tell us when you plan to leave the house. 

    Oh and, please lose the Frog suit.

It is a bit much.

Love,   Mom

aka: your legal guardian. (not that you'd care) 

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Not to be out done though- his older sister certainly has her moments.   She doesn't come close to being the handful Sam is, but I'm not about to tell HER that.  She'd just consider it a challenge!  

On Wednesday there was no school, due to a blessed spring snow storm.   (There is nothing better then an unexpected snow day.)   Anyways, after breakfast I told Abby to go practice piano so that she could be done with it for the day.   This evoked a plethura of dramatic statements, the jest of them being, "No other kid in the WORLD has to practice on a holiday."     I responded by telling her that technically it was a "snow day" not a holiday,   but YES other kids do in fact have to practice on snow days as well.  Even "ava and mya."    I thought adding her cousins in as examples would be enough to persuade her. 

I thought that was the end of it.

Three minutes later though,  I walked by my bedroom and saw Abby talking on the phone.   With Ava and Mya's Mom.    Apparantly, Abby had a difficult time believing what I'd told her, and was determined to prove me wrong.    Thankfully,   Aunt Jewel sided with me.  At least I'm pretty sure she sided with me.  All I know is that I heard Abby say,   "Uh huh.  Ok.  Yup.  Bye."   Then she hung up the phone, walked to the piano and started practicing.   

That was the end of it.   

And I was left wondering HOW!     "How does  Auntie Jewel get my kids to do ANYTHING she asks,  yet they don't listen to a WORD I say?"

Dear Abby:

Please understand that everything I ask you to do, is for your own good.    

Would you believe me if I said, "Auntie Jewel says so?"

Love, Your mother. 

aka:  The one who grew you in her womb, and brought you to this earth.  (Not that you'd care)

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I've been trying to potty train Jessica this week.  Neither her or I are enjoying the process very much.   However,  she is over three and I've been buying two sizes of diapers for long enough.

It's time. 

I think she is starting to grasp the idea.  She went potty on the toilet a couple of times in the last few days.   The problem is though, that every single time, she would walk out of the bathroom soaking wet!   I couldn't figure out how she could be going potty where she was supposed to be going, but STILL getting so wet in the process.    After following her suspiciously for a few hours,  I have since figured out where things are going wrong.

Dear Jessica: 

I am glad that you are beginning to figure this out.   But in the future PLEASE remove your pants before sitting on the potty.  K?

It will make ALL the difference!

Love, Mom

aka: the one who is sick of all the laundry  (not that you'd care)

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Sometimes, late at night when the other 3 kids are in bed, John and I cuddle up to our youngest child Nate, and cover him with smooches.   We both stare at him,  and admire what a delightfully happy boy he is.   He is a DREAM baby.     He is starting to really roll around a room and is also enjoying any bit of food we allow him to get his hands on.  He is growing way WAY too fast. 

Dear Nate:

You are such a good little boy, and so far, you seem to be turning out alright. 

We have every reason to hope that you just might be the normal child in the family.

Then again.   Perhaps it's just too soon to tell. 

"Normal" is such an objective term anyways.

Love, 

Mom