A Public Service Announcement

As a public service, I am giving you a list of what a CRAZY 16 month old can do in under one minute.  For those considering having one of these anytime soon, this is your warning.

*Scale a changing table in search of a binky with toes clinging to the top ledge, hanging on for dear life.
* Open bathroom closet, find and use TONS of Q tips, leaving them scattered around the house
* Get into the bathroom, climb up on the step, reach hand sanitizer and wipe it all over their hands (at least they'll be germ free.)
* Fill the toilet up with unused diapers
* Do acrobatic tricks on the couch
* Climb up on sister's bed and jump
* Climb the oven (really, this shouldn't be possible.  But somehow they can squeeze their toes into the part where the drawer pulls out on the bottom and then hold onto the handle of the oven and pull up...THANK GOODNESS the oven didn't open)
* Turn on Daddy's Xbox
* Change the TV to speak in French (which you will have no idea was even possible until it happens, leaving you unsure of how to fix it.)
* Climb onto kitchen table, get pencil/crayon/marker/pen left behind and go crazy coloring on things such as: table, chairs, walls, shelves, doors, window sills, face, books.  (And no, you can't hide the pencils/crayons/markers/pens, the 16 month old WILL find them.)
* Empty the dog food bowl
* Open and remove DVD's from their cases
* Run full speed with blankets over their faces so they can't see where they're going

* And lastly.....

Ta Da!

Consider yourself warned!

(P.S. 16 month olds also know how to get you so wrapped around their finger that you don't care about all the chaos they create, their slobbery kisses, sticky hugs and screams of excitement somehow outweigh it...in case you still think you want one.)

She's Here to Help!

So, you know Claire, that crazy red-headed 3 (almost 4) year old we have living in our house that always has very important things to say?  

Well she is here to help all those people that are pregnant in the world with naming their babies.

After pondering the complexities of life - as she often does - she had some questions regarding the name of one of her boy cousins.

"Why did *Bob and Sally choose to name their boy *Bobbie when they could have named him something better, like Marty?  Was it the only boy name they knew?" 

(*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.)

I explained to her that Bobbie was named after some family members.

Claire's response:  "Well...I still like the name Marty, because it's the best name in the whole world for a boy!  That or dad, but you can't name a baby 'dad'.  That's the PROBLEM!"

And she's right, that IS the problem.  It would sure save a lot of confusion if we just named babies "mom" and "dad" so that kids didn't have to first learn those and THEN learn their parents had OTHER names that OTHER people call them, and then have to figure out why THEY can't call their parent's by the OTHER names.  Do you get my drift?

But since that isn't happening, I got Claire to give us a list to help with naming babies since "dad" and "mom" aren't options.

Bad names for boys:

Pinkalicious

Rapunzel

Bubble Puppy

Juice Box

Booger

Kitchen

Felicia

Unicorn

Camille

Good names for boys:

Marty

Dad (even though you can't name a baby dad)

Reagan

Erik

Bouncy Ball

Bad names for girls:

Marty

Ken

Acorn

Bad Guy

Archen

Scooter Ike

Capen

Gomen

Plate

Cookie

Shirt

Good names for girls:

Madi

Ashley

Princess

Shanna

Rapunzel

Princess Peacock Princess

Great Style Girl

Dance

Lady Gaga

Felicia

Musical Unicorn

Taylor Swift

Barbie

Hannah Montana

Isn't she thoughtful to make it all so simple?

You're Welcome!

A Mother's Concerns

Addison has met physical milestones right on track.  Rolling, sitting, crawling, standing, walking, climbing, running and small motor skills have all been moving right along.

The one place I have concern is with her speech.

After a LONG winter with a TON of ear infections, Addison got tubes in her ears a couple weeks ago...which could be a blog post in its own.  But let's just say the surgery went well...coming out of anesthesia was about as smooth as her coming out of the womb...meaning she came out kicking, screaming bloody murder and inconsolable...it was super awesome, especially since there were multiple people in the recovery room coming out of surgery.  Nothing like coming out of anesthesia to a baby screaming like a mad person.

ANYWAY...the doctor said there was SO much thick gunk in her ears that they wouldn't be surprised if she could hardly hear before, and that she should definitely have a huge improvement, which in turn should help her speech.  

So I know the tubes weren't going to be an instant fix, and she wouldn't come home speaking in full sentences, but the worry of her speech is still there.  And the thing that makes me worry more is when I do the one thing I've always tried so hard not to do....compare her to other babies.

Why do we do that!  Why do we compare them with others? 

YES, Addison says some words:  Hi, bye, mom, dad, thank you, uh-oh, wow, that, Cuh (for Claire), Iz (for Lizzy) - And Brielle is also referred to as Cuh.  

She seems to be babbling more and mimicking sounds more as well. Her screaming has decreased since getting the tubes, which is nice, but as silly as it sounds, I guess I was hoping for a quicker move into trying out some words.  Why am I being so ridiculous?

I know I need to stop focusing on her speech and look at what a happy, healthy, beautiful baby girl she is.  

I am SO blessed and lucky to have her.

Besides...maybe I'll regret wanting her to talk more when she does and won't stop.

So maybe her not talking more is a blessing in disguise...right?  Right?

I'll start looking at it that way.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

(Who knew St. Patrick's Day brought out the crazy in everyone?)

We hope everyone has a very LUCKY St. Patrick's Day.

Now, THAT'S Quality Parenting - Loose Tooth Saga's.

So, apparently we're in the business of torturing our children. 

Brielle has had her second loose tooth just barely dangling on for a long time now.  You could just about turn it 180 degrees...really it was ready to be out.

She has fought us and whined night after night while we've tried to convince her to let us pull it out, which usually resulted in lots of tears - she was pretty upset as well.

We've tried every bribe/pleading/threat in the book:

"If you let us pull it, you can choose what we have for dinner!" 

"If you let us pull it, you can go get an ice cream cone!"

"If you let us pull it, the tooth fairy can come!"

"I think the tooth fairy stopped by last night and was dissapointed you hadn't gotten that tooth out."

"If you don't let us pull it, we'll have to bring out the pliers."

"If you don't let us pull it, we'll have to go to the dentist and pay lots of money and then you won't get any birthday presents or any food or clothes because we'll be too poor."

Okay, maybe we didn't go that far...but there were moments that our bargaining got a little ridiculous.

Finally tonight we convinced her to try the old doorknob yanking - even though the video seems to prove otherwise.  Yes, she's crying, and yes you may feel bad.  But she was crying because we had been trying to pull it out and she was scared.  

And she's her mother's child and cries about everything.

(Just ask my family.)

And just FYI, she wanted me to record it so she could see...in case you think I'm heartless for recording this while she's crying.

Did the doorknob yanking work, or do we have even MORE trouble (and apparently torture) on our hands?

(P.S. Please ignore the mess behind her.  She wanted to use the playroom door for some reason, and the kitchen is totally my fault...but hey, I had torturing to do, much more important than cleaning.)

What, you think if you skip the video I'll give you the answer?  

Pshh.....as if.

Okay, yes it worked...and she is VERY happy and excited for the tooth fairy to come tonight.  And because we actually do have hearts and feel bad about the torture, I think the tooth fairy may be a little more generous this time around.

Musical Nostalgia

*This is a very nostalgic post, mostly for my own personal reflection.  Feel free to disregard and skip this one.*

Today my sister sent me a text message asking if I had any way of recording me playing the piano and sending it to her so she could use it during her labor...she's a planner and isn't due for a few months, but that's not the point here.  

I was really touched that she would want ME playing the piano while she is having her baby.  I mean technically she could get piano music really easily from a WIDE array of pianists and artists, but she said it would help her have a lot of happy memories to think about.  So hopefully I can figure out a way to make that happen.  I do have an electric piano that claims to have hookups for a computer...I think I will put Marty in charge of figuring out the technical stuff.

After her text it got me thinking about what an AWESOME role music - particularly the piano - has played in my life.  So I got a little nostalgic thinking of all the times the girls in my family would gather around the piano and belt out Sandi Patti, or prepare for one of the millions of musical numbers we were constantly doing.  Or how my friends would come over and we would practice choir music and end up singing and playing for hours.  

I remember grumbling every time my mom would say "oh, we were asked to do a musical number for _________" and wonder WHY does she always say yes? 

But now that we live in Washington and nobody has any idea I play the piano, I miss using it!  It kind of defined who I was for so long, and it feels kind of weird and like it's a secret.  Not because I want it to be, but just because I haven't had an opportunity to use it and I'm not one to jump up in a room and say "I can play the piano!  Pick me!"   

The thing that is so awesome about the piano, is that even though I may not have "accomplished" as much as other people have done, playing the piano has afforded me some AMAZING opportunities that I will never forget.  Things like:

- Accompanying the Madrigals during graduation at Abravanel Hall, I mean really...how many average Jo's or Jane's like myself can say they got to play the piano in the symphony hall??  I am NO concert pianist, so don't take me reminiscing about this the wrong way, it was just such an AWESOME experience.

- Spending  a week in New York to "perform" for other schools...but mostly we got to just sight see.  Although singing on stage at Radio City Music Hall with the choir (during a tour...not a concert), and singing The Star Spangled Banner at Ground Zero (we went just 8 months after 9/11) are what I remember most about that trip.

- Playing keyboard in the "orchestra pit" for the musical Hello Dolly


- Having an elderly gentleman come up to me after a musical number at an assisted living home to thank me and tell me the origin of the hymn I had played.  It is now my very favorite hymn arrangement to play.

It's funny what memories stick with you the most.

There's nothing more rewarding than sharing what you love the most with people around you, but for some reason I haven't used the piano at all for quite a while.  And that makes me sad.

I'm not posting this to "brag" or say "look at what I did", but mostly because I was sitting here and realized that this portion of my life is lacking and I need to get it back!  

The piano is the very best therapist out there.  

And I think it's about time I paid a visit.

Addison - Trouble - Davis

Being home with three little kids brings a lot of noise and chaos.  

And as much as I wish I could revel in the rare quiet moments, we all know what quiet in a house really means.

Trouble.

 I think we made a terrible mistake in giving Addison the middle name of Belle...I'm pretty sure Trouble would have been a much better fit.  Mischief would be a close second.

Now before you worry that the quiet was because the older girls had put Addison in the kennel, this was all her own doing.  She crawled in, shut the door behind her and took up home on Lizzy's bed...all the while sucking on markers.

My questions are, how did she: 

1. Get Lizzy to stay in there with her.  

2. Get the door shut.

3. Get ahold of markers.

4. Do all this without anyone noticing.

I have no idea.  

She's crafty that one.

You know what else I LOVE (emphasis on being sarcastic) about Addison?  

Bath time.

Every bath night me and Marty start the bargaining.  "If you bathe Addison, I'll bathe the other two girls and put all THREE of the kids to bed!" or "If you bathe Addison, I'll do all the dishes, clean up the family room, take out the trash, bathe the other two girls, put all the kids to bed, give you a foot rub, and go to Dairy Queen to get you a blizzard."

Yes, bathing her is that bad.  Not because she hates her bath, but because she loves it so much and believes she is an Olympic gold medalist in diving/water polo. 

She LITERALLY floods the bathroom floor from all her jumping and splashing no matter how hard we try to contain her or put very little water in the tub.

So last night, we decided to try a little bubble bath.

In a more contained environment.

And it worked GREAT...until the bubbles didn't keep her attention and she realized there was water under the bubbles to splash in.

Life with Addison is most definitely NEVER dull.