For the second time in recorded history, our family ate out! All of us. The kids earned free meals at Jason’s Deli through the library summer reading program and for some crazy reason we decided to go with the whole gang. (The last time we tried this it was when Chipotle gave out free burritoes during their canned food fundraiser. It went pretty well but Bennett was trying to run away so we ended up packing up and finishing the meal at home.) Jason’s & Chipotle are both very kid friendly so we’re not crazy enough to try an actual sit down, nice restaurant. Baby steps, maybe someday we’ll do that. In like five years…

I was honestly stunned at how well it went. Bennett and Mo sat in booster seats and Bennett (the one I most worried about) was too busy stuffing his face to make any sort of fuss. I wish I had a camera numerous times - when Bennett was scooping ice cream into his ice cream cone and then double fisting the cones (Christopher gave Bennett his) or when Emy was flirting with everyone in eyesight. Moira was content with my strawberries and some pizza (though Christopher loudly announced that Aunt Rebecca’s pizza is better.) Christopher gave himself brain freeze on his second serving of ice cream, that was funny. Then declined more ice cream - weird. He also didn’t want a refill on the soda (a huge treat around here, we don’t normally do soda) so I was very impressed with his restraint. Or maybe he was just that stuffed. A song came on the kids’ recognized and they all started bobbing and dancing, including Emy. Kit and I were actually able to EAT, the kids were so well behaved.

It was such a pleasant experience, the kids were so polite and cooperative. I’m telling you, this level of calm and peace is feeling a bit eery… Not that we’re complaining.

Christopher, I want to remember how you handle things with such grace. It’s reflexive for you to say “Please” and “No, thank you,” and “If you would be so kind.” You are a gentleman in the body of a five year old. You are a delightful guest and are constantly praised for your manners and thoughtfulness and how you watch out for little ones around you - not just your siblings but all little kids.

Moira, I want to remember how you do this song and dance when you’re proud of yourself. You shake your little bottom and punch your fists in the air and say, “Awight, I did it, go Mo-ha, awight!” Or cheering yourself on, you say, “Do yuh beh, Mo-ha!” And when you count down from 10 to zero, you announce, “Ih-nih-hin.” (Ignition.) As much as I hate to see you struggling with your speech, the way you mispronounce things is ADORABLE!

Bennett, I want to remember how when your Daddy leaves for work, you stand at the window sobbing and when you reach up to rub your eyes you rub your glasses. And when I remind you, “Daddy will come home!” you respond through your tears, “Awight, awight,” as if assuring yourself.

Emiline, I want to remember how you work so hard to get yourself to a standing position without pulling up or pushing off of anything - and then you’re so proud of yourself for being upright that you start bobbing and dancing in place and fall down. And your squeal, this squeak that is so loud that you startle yourself - I love that.

Several times this week Kit and I have looked up from whatever we’re focusing on and realized we’re alone in the room. We go to check on the kids and find the four of them playing off in their rooms, sometimes all together or sometimes in various rooms. FOUR IN ONE ROOM. And there is no screaming or fighting or yelling. They’re just sitting there playing… it’s a little eery.

Kit and I have both caught ourselves counting kids and asking the other parent where the missing child is - only to realize we have all four kids with us. We have them all, right there, things are under control and calm and we assume that means at least one child is missing because it can’t be this easy to keep four happy and safe.

And I’ve been leaving the house without Kit lately, with all our kids. Four kids and me. And I’ve not lost any of them yet. No injuries, no significant property damage, we’ve actually had fun.

Which means life is getting calm. We’re getting really good at the four kids thing. The skill level is increasing as the complications and speed pick up and we’re not floundering as much. Figuring out the parenting game.. hmm… so this means life is going to suddenly get MUCH more complicated, right?

But for the record - I want to remember that with four kids 5 years old and under, I’m really, really loving this.

Bennett’s current relationship with food reminds me of myself while pregnant. Not the first trimester pregnant when the very smell of food can cause me to gag, nor the third trimester during which I’m hungry but my stomach is somewhere up in my lungs and has no space to expand so I’m stuffed all the time. But in the second trimester, when I’ve gotten my appetite back after 12 weeks of vomiting and food is this glorious adventure again and EVERYTHING sounds good. Plus my blood sugar is so unstable that when it crashes I get violent if not fed within about 8 seconds and I’ve been known to threaten people if they get between me and my access to food. THAT stage, that seems to be where Bennett is ALL THE TIME these days.

We made bratwurst for dinner. I cut his up into little slices and was putting mustard on mine and before I sat down he was holding out his bowl asking for more - cheeks packed like a chipmunk. He eats breakfast early with Kit but by the time I get up he’s acting starved and I have to ask Kit if he really did feed Bennett. We now have two complete lunches a day because he’s hungry at 11am and starving again by 1pm. Plus snacks. He eats ALL DAY LONG. After the bratwurst we offered him noodles or sausage-rice-scramble and he said noodle and then was double fisting it into his mouth! It’s bizarre!

But Emy seems to be the same way. We were at friends’ this morning to play and in the three hours there Emy nursed THREE times. Plus solid snacks! We gave up on the Nutren boost (she got sick from it) but we’re trying to pack solids in her so I can slowly wean the boob dependency and it’s not working. When we don’t let her have something in particular (I ate a chocolate peanut butter bar while holding her) she reaches for it and has developed this high pitched shriek of anger - she flaps and smacks and yells and sobs, trying to get to the food.

And she’s getting very good at yanking on my clothes & trying to nurse - I was holding her at church trying to take care of some stuff for Relief Society, printing things off in the clerks’ office, etc. Emy started yelling, then pulling my shirt collar down! I asked if she wanted to nurse and she nods frantically so I start walking to the mothers’ lounge and the whole way there she’s yelling and pulling my shirt and trying to suck on my collar bone! We passed some friends and they burst out laughing and asked if she was hungry.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE that our kids have these healthy appetites. After Christopher’s weight loss at a year and Mo’s lack of appetite and pickiness (sorry, “selectiveness” - good labels) with eating and Ben’s almost failure to thrive and the battle to put weight on him, then the whole thrush/mastitis/bad latch saga with Emy - thrilled does not being to describe my feelings about our kids eating. I’m very thankful. I’m just incredibly amused and perplexed by this ferociousness about food.

Well, they are my kids, right?

Christopher wants to build a lemonade stand. We were discussing supplies and thought this was a good chance to teach him about starting a business, capital loans, expenses and net profit, etc. He didn’t know how much money he would need to purchase supplies - or how he was going to get them. He asked if we could give him a budget, like for his birthday (we told him for his next party he’ll get a budget and we’ll write up supplies and he’ll have to decide what his priorities are. He’s already planning, it’s been fun to see him get creative with one area in order to save money for a higher priority.)

Anyway, I told him he’ll have to come up with his own budget and earn the money somehow - he asked if he can make a proposal to Daddy. Christopher will do some of Daddy’s chores in exchange for pay. The one he mentioned was taking out the trash, though the outside can is way over his head so not sure if that will work. But at least he’s brainstorming!

Then we discussed price - he asked if $5 was too much for a glass of lemonade and I said probably, so he suggested a quarter (more like it.)

So, supplies. I told him a good way to start is write up a list of supplies needed so he can estimate cost. He started to list them, and I’m expecting him to say lemons, sugar, ice, etc. Nope, Christopher’s list was, “Wood to build the stand, and power tools, and some metal…” I don’t know what he said after that, I was laughing too hard that “power tools” was on his list of needs for a lemonade stand.

We’ve been correcting ourselves lately when we refer to Bennett & Emiline has “the babies” because we didn’t mean to lump them together as “the big kids” and “the babies” - Bennett’s not a baby. But here they are right after diaper changes:

Now “baby” really doesn’t apply to either of them - Emiline is making it abundantly clear that she is NOT a baby. Just since Monday she now walks more than crawls. She squats and recovers, she turns corners, she stands around looking at us like, “What? I’ve been doing this FOREVER, people!” She’s just one of the big kids:

She’s not about to give up nursing but she chugged down a sippy cup of Bennett’s Nutren Jr. tonight - that’s promising, if it stays down and the 30 calorie jet fuel doesn’t make her sick. But Ben refuses it so I’m debating letting her have bits of it. And she’s eating everything she can get her hands on, we have to pull stuff out of her mouth to chop it up so it’s not a choking hazard (while she screams impatiently at us.)

And she throws temper tantrums, complete with screaming and flailing and throwing herself to the floor - and yet if she gets what she wants, the screaming stops like a switch was flipped. Hmmm… this is not good. Tonight she was shrieking and attacking because I took the remote away from her. Tantrums? From our not yet 11 month old baby?? It’s not like she’s old enough to be reasoned with (though I’m happy to report Bennett is getting almost old enough to reason with) - so with Emy’s fits we’re going with the distract and redirect method. Because we all know how easy it is to distract OUR kids, right? The children with impressive memory skills that have opinions about everything and unrivaled persistence in going for their goals? (Like how I’m using positive labels? I’ve gotten a lot of practice.)

I’m thrilled to see her toddling around all bow legged and chattering and playing and laughing with the big kids. But it makes me sad, too! Where did my baby go??

Side note - this is the longest we’ve ever gone without being pregnant or trying to get pregnant after our babies. When Christopher was this age I was 2 months pregnant with Mo, when Mo was this age we had been trying almost 5 months to get pregnant and when Bennett was this age, we had just found out I was pregnant with Emiline. So this is a whole new world, to have a brand new toddler and no baby on the way. My babies turn into toddlers and I start getting baby hungry. And no, that’s not an announcement.

Driving past the Pumpkin Patch and I pointed it out to the kids. Christopher asked where the pumpkins were and I said they don’t put them out until October. He comes back with, “I don’t call a pumpkin patch a pumpkin patch if there are no pumpkins.” (Long pause.) “I call it a field.”

Searching for rhymes in the backseat, Christopher asks, “Can you think of a rhyme for aardwolf?” Kit and I look at each other and both mouth, “Aardwolf??” Our son assures us it’s a real animal, “It’s a predator of termites! And do you know how many ants an anteater can eat in ONE day? 30,000!! I learned it on Zoboomafoo!”

This morning we found roses for sale and I let Moira pick some out - she chose these enormous red ones. When we came home I was cutting them to put in the vase and she starts screaming, “No, Mommy, those are my roses for my wedding! Roses like you and Daddy had!”

I had completely forgotten Moira wants red roses for her bouquet, like Mommy’s bouquet but in red. I assured her that was fine but these particular roses were NOT going to last another twenty years so we needed to enjoy them now. I promised we would get her some more later.

My sister is visiting and brought the newest cousin, Max - the baby that showed up at 10 POUNDS 2 OUNCES! Here he is next to Emiline. She’s 9 months older than him and he’s only an inch shorter than her. Max & Emy:

It use to be when you bought diapers at Sams you would get a free sampler cd of classical music. It was a nice bonus. Now we discovered with each case of diapers you get a bonus baby!

And last but not least - Emiline expresses her views of bathtime:

Today was Bennett’s annual assessment with Early Childhood Intervention. He’s just under 30 months actual age so 26 months adjusted. And yes, I’m still adjusting and I’ll keep adjusting his age until I decide it’s no longer relevant to his development. That whole “catch up by two” thing is ridiculous and we don’t believe in it and his doctor doesn’t so we’re going with the year per month early - he was 4 months early, so until he’s 4 years old and/or caught up, those 4 months are adjusted.

We found that he’s at 24 months for self help - they said he’s lost points for not toilet training, in all other ways he’s fine with self help. And come ON, 24 months old for a boy to potty train? Whatever, I’ll discuss it with him when he’s 3 years old. We’re talking about a child that can get his own snack AND clean up after himself, I’m not worried about his self help skills - I’m worried about his independence! He’s 26 months for social-emotional (the extreme attachment to us I think altered that - but we’re cutting slack for trauma there. And he’s still perfect for adjusted age.) 25 months for speech - that sounds about right. Knowing all the phonics isn’t enough, since he’s not asking questions, putting together enough phrases, etc. His receptive is great, his articulation is great, he’s just not expressive enough yet. He’s 32 months for gross & fine motor skills - no surprise there, they said most points were for his freakishly (my word, not theirs) amazing writing and fine motor skills. The only thing they mentioned was scissors - can he use them properly. Again, WHO came up with these tests? Scissors for a two year old? And as one therapist said, we really don’t want to see what happens when Bennett gets ahold of scissors. We’re okay with settling for 32 months on that skill. And 33 months for cognitive. Because he’s brilliant. I think that high score was because of the counting, knowing shapes, knowing the whole alphabet, writing some letters, knowing phonics, etc.

We are going to do a sensory profile on him and he’s maintaining all services are they are (vision, speech, occupational.) But I’m laughing as I type this because he doesn’t need OT, not by any stretch. He doesn’t have sensory processing disorder, he’s fine, but they were trying to think of something that would qualify him so we’re going to “assess” the sensory thing. Oh, and the self help and social are behind. So technically he qualifies, I don’t mean to imply they were fudging anything. But they are keeping him on because they like us and we appreciate their input and ideas and Bennett loves them.

Our ECI program covers a really large area and his speech & OT both have caseloads in other parts of the county - nothing near us. When one therapist came back from maternity leave they took Bennett off her caseload because he’s the only one she serves in this area and it takes a lot of time for her to drive out of her way to come see us. We protested, SHE protested, and she’s back. This is the same therapist we had for the older two kids, we love her! We can’t lose her. But just this week his other therapist told us she was told since Ben’s her only kid in this area they wanted to pull him off her caseload, too, and she said no. That made us happy, to know they like to come see us.

Bennett will start the transition to the school district for services this fall and will move over in January. I’m sure he won’t qualify for OT there but since Mo’s OT has already been asking after Bennett and had us bring him in to play so she could meet him, I know she’ll think of a reason to work with him if we ask. And we really like Mo’s speech therapist, too. His vision teacher said she’s happy to keep coming to our home (instead of the school) to work with him after he turns 3. And she reassured us again today that she’s talked with her manager and they know we’re homeschooling and they still plan to provide all services to him even when he’s school age. Which they don’t HAVE to do, they could refuse and we could have to appeal and fight it. But they are wonderful.

Emy was W-sitting (not good for muscle tone, Mo default sits like that and we’ve corrected her a lot) and the OT teased us about letting her sit like that and rearranged her - legs in front. They were having her practice walking between them and getting her to babble and happily said, “You may have a child that doesn’t need us!” What a wonderful thought… we LOVE our ECI therapists, they are like family. But not needing them would be so nice.

This morning I opened my eyes to Emy standing next to me on the bed. I was squinting at her, bleary eyed, and she thought I was making faces (we play that game) and she scrunched up her face in response and started laughing. It was 6:30am. And she was standing on the bed. Good balance, I was impressed. I would be even MORE impressed if she would sleep in until 8:30am and then stand! Hint, hint…

On Monday something seemed to click for Emy - I wonder if she was motivated by the hordes of kids at our co-op? But she now walks as much as she crawls. Every time I turned around at our meeting she was walking off somewhere - tentatively, she still tumbles a lot. As we were leaving a friend opened the front door while I reached to pick up some stuff and when I stood back up Emy had walked through the foyer and was heading out the front door when my friends grabbed her. I think I counted 8 steps in a row and she’s turned around a couple times and she’s stooped and straightened. I’m impressed. She walked over to Bennett’s OT yesterday and hugged her during therapy.

Last night we were in bed and Emy had just finished nursing and we heard Bennett wake up. Normally I’m asleep when he wakes up in the night and Kit gets up with him. If the kids are nursing, I get up with them - “get up” meaning “lift up my shirt so they can latch on then everyone goes back to sleep.” Once they are weaned, Kit gets up with them and handles sippy cups and rocking and soothing and medicine and sick kids and diapers. Well, he does that when I’m nursing, too. I just handle the boob and he does the rest. And yes, every single day I say a prayer of gratitude that this man was willing to marry me. For many reasons, beyond the fact that he takes care of all the kids all night long with a smile and the next morning lets me sleep in.

So Bennett woke up and I heard so I told Kit I would get him - I found Ben standing in the hallway looking confused (no glasses, of course) and I picked him up and he snuggled his head against my shoulder. Kit brought us a sippy cup of water (since I have no clue what Ben’s nighttime routine is, Kit was telling me what they normally do.) Then I walked back to lay Ben in bed and he pulled up his comforter and rolled to his tummy and settled in… I was laying between the boys on their bed, Christopher’s feet in my back and Bennett tucked up against me. He fell right back asleep and I was listening to both of them breathing and when I realized what I was hearing, what I was doing, I started crying. I was listening to my boys breathing. Normal, healthy, non-oxygen assisted breathing.

These are the moments I dreamt of and prayed and begged for and desperately hoped for - for so long. Back after our first miscarriage when I didn’t know if we were going to have a baby, during the bedrest and at the hospital with Christopher when I was just 19 weeks along and they were telling us it was too early and there was nothing they could do if we couldn’t stop the contractions. (That’s why we cancelled our trip to Europe, 4 days before we were suppose to fly. I was in the hospital contracting - so Christopher, you owe me a trip to Europe, kiddo! You wanted to go back to Germany for Kinder Eggs, and we’ve taken you twice so next time I’ll let you treat. Though until this morning, I did not know I could order them here in the States! Hmm, maybe a birthday surprise for Christopher?? They’re expensive but cheaper than another set of plane tickets to Europe. Sigh… I want to go back to Germany.)

Bennett’s pregnancy overshadowed that a bit but way back with Christopher we faced that - being told it was too early to save him. Thankfully we were able to get the contractions to slow down. All those months on bedrest with Bennett and then for hours and days and weeks and months - holding Bennett against my chest, hearing the alarms and being careful to not move so I didn’t dislodge the tube shoved into his mouth that was breathing for him, then the months at home hearing the oxygen concentrator loudly whirring in the background, navigating around tubing and monitors so I could hold my baby. Through that time, this is what I wanted - to snuggle my kids and watch them sleep and stroke their hair and hear them breathing. So quiet and peaceful and easy, just breathing, all on their own. I love it.

I found a quote I wrote down from Christopher and I don’t think I posted it. Moira has taken to saying she doesn’t like us or love us when she doesn’t like our answers/requests/whatever. She was mad at Kit and threw out some statement like that and Christopher says, “He makes you dinner but you say you don’t love him??”

I’m craving peanut butter cups and have none, so I had to improvise with chocolate chips and Reeses Pieces. (It works in a pinch, handful of each.) Of course, it only works if you have a 3 lbs bag of Reeses Pieces in the house (they are cheaper per ounce than chocolate chips at Sams) and a 3 lbs bag of chocolates. Yes, I have both of those.

So Bennett saw and wanted a chocolate chip and I held it up and teasing him said, “Say Mama!” He said, “Please!” I kept repeating myself, “Come on, say ‘MAMA!’ What’s my name?” Bennett responds with a big grin, “MY NAME!” “No, Bennett, what’s Mommy’s name?”

What does this little stinker do? He says, “H” and starts drawing the letter H in the air. Fine, I’ll settle for Heidi. “Say Heidi!” Nope, won’t say it.

“Okay, Bennett, say chocolate.” “Doh-dic.”

I don’t usually give him a hard time about this, I know he’s capable of saying it and I don’t want him to refuse to say it from the pressure. But this child will say chocolate, and elephant, and “my name” (and giggle, clearly teasing me) and he’ll say “Der you go, baby!” and he’ll say please and thank you and NO, thanks. “Uh-oh, Daddy go!” He counts, he knows the numbers 1 through 10, he knows the entire alphabet AND the phonics.

BUT HE WON’T SAY MOMMY! It’s making me bonkers.

A friend highly recommended I read “The Read Aloud Handbook” - she said she’s on her third reading of it. I very much trust this friend’s opinion on so many subjects that I ran out and found a copy. (She’s a former kindergarden teacher, mother, and all around incredibly wise and creative and insightful person - if she says read a book, it’s worth reading.)

READ THIS BOOK. And if you’re not taking me seriously and you’re not going to read this book, then at least READ TO YOUR CHILDREN EVERY SINGLE DAY! SERIOUSLY! I don’t care how old they are, go read to them. READ, READ, READ!

I was trying to sneak in a few minutes of reading the handbook and I was letting Bennett watch tv, Mo was starting to fall asleep on the floor and Christopher was looking at a different book. Realizing the irony of this, I put my book down and turned off the tv. Bennett’s screaming at me “QUACK, QUACK!” and flailing about like an angry duck (and for those of you Wiggle fans/hostages - sing with me! “Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”) Well, Bennett saw me sit down with the book and ran to plop in my lap and we started reading. He was squealing and laughing and telling me all the letters and Moira hops up and comes to sit by us and then Christopher abandons his book and comes to listen…

I’m not done reading the handbook yet but so far - wow. Not an extreme idea, we all KNOW we should be reading to our kids, but the book is still fascinating and full of stories, ideas, suggestions, reminders, and a list of books to read aloud divided by age level.

Kit reads aloud to the older three very night but I’m NOT good about reading aloud to them - from now on I will be, including Emy.

I’m sure your library has a copy of it, GO READ THIS BOOK and be inspired.

I am a Harry Potter fan. And for you fellow fans, you know that at 12:01 last night, the FINAL BOOK was released. I pre-ordered it on Amazon (guaranteed lowest price!) but didn’t feel like paying the guaranteed shipping (promising it would be here by 7pm tonight) so I probably won’t get my copy before Monday. But that is good, we’ve thought this through - today is full. This morning the kids went to play frisbee golf with Kit, we ran errands, we need to hit the library and I’ve got stuff to prep for Sunday and this afternoon we have a big birthday party with friends.

But let me tell you, when we walked into Sams and saw this ENORMOUS stack of the book sitting there… okay, so it was more than what I paid (by a $1) and today is NOT a good day for me to abandon my family to read… The last two books I read the day they came out and finished in 14 hours (I had to stop to eat and reassure my children that I had not abandoned them. Kit brought me the baby to nurse every couple hours and I would read and nurse, then hand the baby back. The 5th book came out right after Mo was born and the 6th book came out when Bennett was fresh home. This will be the first year I don’t have a newborn! I can hide in the closet and read and read! Well, except Emy wants to nurse.)

Anyway, it took every ounce of willpower I have to not pick up the book and run go hide with it and start reading. Or at least read the last page - I do that. I don’t like surprises. I read reviews before watching movies, even if they contain spoilers, because I want to know it’s worth my time to watch. I don’t normally skip to the end of the book first but this time, I was tempted. I just want to know who dies! How does it end??

And if you know, don’t tell me. I’m trying to work on that self control and patience. I can wait until a better time to read… sigh….

EDIT: IT’S HERE! IT’S BEEN SITTING IN MY MAILBOX!! But we didn’t bother to check mail because I assumed it wouldn’t be here. We’re back from the birthday party and it’s here! Though a sweet friend already finished reading it and offered me her copy, now I can read all night long! WOO-HOO! But Kit begged me to please wait until the kids are in bed before I start…

And I posted some adorable pictures from earlier this week, frisbee golf, and the incredibly fun bounce house birthday party from today. Since I suspect the hostess will be posting more pictures on her blog, you can check those out here. (No pressure, Katie! :))

EDIT II: I finished it! 1:12am, I think this is my record for fastest reading, I started it around 7pm (Kit said it was okay if I started before the kids were asleep) but helped put them down and I did stop for a snack but nursed Emy 3 times and I’m done! I must have skimmed a LOT or something because I have no idea how I read it this fast… and as soon as I set it down, Kit picked it up but I’m exhausted so now off to bed…