Claire's Last Day of Preschool

It's an overcast morning here, but when I dropped Claire off at preschool for the last time this morning, I had my sunglasses ready to go. I've had all the feels this week as we approach Claire's preschool graduation. It's hitting me hard.

I don't know why . . . I've been through this twice before. Someone suggested that it might be because it's my first girl graduating from preschool, and I wanted to punch that person in the face. Sorry - but only kind of sorry -  if it was you. I'm just about done with being polite when people imply that my girls will be my best friends forever while my boys will someday leave me and never give me a second thought. But that's an entirely different post.

I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I won't be sending her to Kindergarten while I still have a toddler and a newborn at home. Even when I was emotional about sending the boys to school, I welcomed one less person needing my attention all day. I think my emotions this week are actually the result of three preschool graduations. I don't think I ever really had the time or emotional space when the boys graduated to feel it all. The last 6 years are catching up with me, I suppose.

Claire's Last Day of Preschool - May 2017

 I also know what comes next. I know that she'll be gone 7 hours a day. I know that we'll have tired, grumpy afternoons 4 out of 5 school days. I know that she'll pick up mysterious phrases and attitudes that she never would have picked up from 2.5 hours of preschool, or here at home. I know that the attachment we have will be a little less. I know that soon she'll stop holding my hand. I know that she will make friends whose parents I don't know. I know that our crazy summer schedule will end about two days before she goes back to school, leaving little time for family vacations. I know that it's harder to miss a day of school once you reach the elementary age. I didn't know all of this when Jack graduated from preschool, and I only knew a little bit of it when Bennett did.

Bennett's Last Day of Preschool - May 2015

Jack's Last Day of Preschool - May 2012

For the next 3 years it'll just be me and Hattie. She'll go to preschool two mornings a week next year, and will probably have a babysitter a couple of days. I'll have to stay up fewer late nights getting my jobs done, because I'll have more available time during the day. So those are all good things.

Hattie will get way more attention during these years than any of her siblings, because there will be no one else fighting for it. That's a good thing, but it leaves me feeling incredibly guilty for not being able to give that to the others. They've all been more than ready for Kindergarten when they graduated from preschool, but I'm still left wondering if I've done enough while I've had them at home.

No more babies at our house.

All week I've been thinking about how I'll never have regular afternoons with Claire again. When I was home, it was just her and I while Hattie napped. I'm feeling all the guilt about the times I sat her in front of the tv so I could be productive. I'm feeling so sad that we won't get to take advantage of empty open skating afternoons anymore or just lay in bed and giggle about the crazy stories she makes up. And let me tell you: She makes up some doozies. At parent-teacher conferences, we were presented with a list of stories she told to her teachers. . . were you aware that I knit her clothes for her before she goes to school each morning? And that her dad found our dog that we thought had died up in the attic of our house? I could go on . . . but I won't.

I remember when Jack was born, having this overwhelming feeling of "How on earth will I be able to give him everything that he deserves?" I don't think that feeling will ever really go away. Sometimes I joke about it, but I really don't want my kids to stop growing or to slow down. So today, I'm going to try and push some of my own sadness aside and be thankful for healthy, thriving kids, doing what they're meant to do: Grow.

My phone just buzzed, reminding me that it's almost time to go sit in that pick up line and wait to see my sweet Claire skip hand-in-hand with her teacher one last time. She's growing up. They all are. Thank you, Jesus.

Lukes are Best Friends

I'm almost sure that at my funeral someday, this is the memory that my kids will laugh about: "Remember how after we fought, Mom used to make us say, 'I love you' and 'Lukes are best friends'?" 

I'm okay with that.

I make no secret of the fact that one of my main parenting goals is to keep them close . . . perhaps to a fault. I make sure they know that even when they're married and have kids of their own, they need to touch base with their siblings . . . all of them . . . at least once a week.

They might not have chosen each other, but they'll always be the friends who have known them the longest. I want them to confide in each other. I don't even care if they help each other keep secrets from us (kind of). When one of my kids tattles on another, I often say, "Remember . . . you're all on the same team."

Maybe they'll all grow apart and lose touch when they get older. But it won't go down without a fight from their Mama.

On Jack . . .

Jack is enjoying Kindergarten, though he asks to stay home quite a bit.  I don't think it has as much to do with Kindergarten as much as it does him missing being at home and wondering what his brother and sister are doing without him.  His printing has improved drastically over the last month and every so often he'll talk about something else he did at school, but other than that we don't get much information from him about how things are going.  In one email, his teacher indicated he's doing well.  I'd love to know more and to ask questions about him in class, but I don't want to be THAT parent.  I'm still trying to navigate this whole "parent of elementary school student" thing.

He started soccer this month.  He had only 10 minutes of his first practice/game (in pouring rain) before it thundered and it was cancelled.  Last week he actually go to play.  I really enjoy watching him play and he seems to enjoy playing.

Jack has become really crafty.  Don't leave a cardboard box, scrap paper, string or anything else lying around.  It will become something new.  Ipads, checker boards, helicopters and other weird hovering vehicles . . . he has created more contraptions than I can name.  He loves to come and sit at the work table in my office and just cut things and create things.  I like to think he got that from me, though while I think that I'm creative, I don't think I'm very crafty.  He probably takes after my mom and my aunts in that area more than he does me.

His school pictures are today and he insisted wearing his Superman shirt.  Kyle and I were encouraging him to wear something else but finally gave in.  We don't plan on doing anything with these pictures, other than throwing them in his Kindergarten memories folder, so who cares?  And now forever, we'll remember how obsessed with superheroes when he was in Kindergarten. I did make him promise that he'd wear whatever I ask when I take them out for photos soon.  I'm so trying to let him make as many of his own choices as I can, and only stepping in on the big things.  That's so hard for me to do.

A few weeks ago, he was really upset with me about something and flung himself onto his bed exclaiming, "I don't want to be your son anymore!"  I was sitting next to Ben on his bed and said to him, "Well, Ben.  I guess that just leaves you and me."  I was, of course, joking.  We moved on with our bedtime routine.  A few minutes later, Jack still had his head buried in his pillow and I heard little sobs coming from his bed.  I went over and sat with him and didn't say anything.  He just looked up and said, "I said something that I feel so, so bad about."  He apologized and told me that he does, in fact, want to remain my son.  I apologized for joking about it and told him that he didn't need to worry because there was nothing he could say or do to change that.  It was a sour moment turned sweet.

The top three things I love most about Jack during this stage:  His helpfulness, his creativity and his sensitivity.

The first day

Jack made it through his first day and was excited to go back this morning!  The chaos of drop off and the stress of having a newly potty trained two-year-old really distracted me from being emotional, though when we were back on the road leaving, I did shed a few tears.  But just a few.

The things that broke my heart:

• His little cluster of desks where he sits includes him and three girls.  He asked each of the three girls if they could be friends.  They all said no.
• He really liked recess, but didn't have anyone to play with.

The things that encouraged me:

• He did say that he made one new friend that he really liked.
• He said that everything they did in class was fun.
• He really likes his teacher.
• He ate lunch with a friend from preschool, even though he's in a different class than he is.
• He seemed really excited that he saw Jasmine, Hailey and Samantha at recess.
• He informed us that we no longer need to pack a lunch because THERE IS PIZZA AT SCHOOL!  We informed him that we'll probably still be packing a lunch most days, but maybe once in a while he could get pizza.
• He chose white milk instead of chocolate at snack because he thought it would be healthier choice to only have chocolate once a week (we had previously discussed this with him, but we weren't sure if he'd really do it . . . but he did).
• He LOVED gym class.
• He has a doodle book to draw in during their rest time and that was right up his alley.

I'm sure there were more things that he told us, but I can't remember them all.  He was so funny when he told me that he can't wait until next year so that he can do a first day of school all over again!  I'm just glad to have the first day over with.

I love this kid so much.

Edited to add:  Printable signs now available here.

Enough

I've spent the last few weeks fighting the urge to impart last bits of wisdom to Jack about anything and everything that I can think of.  You know . . . thoughts on making friends, resisting peer pressure and not dating a girl who doesn’t consider modesty a virtue.

You know . . . the real kindergarten essentials.

I know it’s only Kindergarten, but this stage . . . this pre-school stage . . . it’s over.  I never thought that I’d be THAT parent . . . the one that stresses over Kindergarten.  I so badly want my kids to be independent and confident, and I didn't think I'd approach Jack's first year of school fighting the urge to not let him get out of the car tomorrow.

I cannot believe that I’ve been a mom for five years.  I cannot believe that I’m sending a child to Kindergarten.  I cannot believe that one of my children will spend so much time away from me every day.  I’ve found myself reconsidering homeschooling.  I’ve wondered if we should wait a year.


I've spent much of the last two months hoping that we've done enough and getting down on myself for the games of Candyland I said "no" to and the books I didn't read.

I know, I know . . . drama, drama, drama. 

Tonight, I was talking with him about what he was most excited about for tomorrow.  I asked him if he was scared at all.  He replied, "No. But I know there are probably other kids who are."  As we talked about the kids who are nervous (and I suspect he is a little too, but won't admit it), I was struck by his ability to see outside himself.  I love how compassionate and kind he is.

Then it hit me: We did that.  Well, not totally.  Some of it is surely innate.  But Kyle and I are also responsible for who this incredible little boy has become . . . and I think we've done a good job.  Have we done enough?  I don't know.  I do know, however, that the grace of God has filled in where we've fallen short.  We're really good parents.

As I've reflected on all of these things, I became thankful for my job's flexibility that has allowed me to spend so much time with him.  The late nights and early mornings of work suddenly seem like a small price to pay to have been there for so much of his time at home.  I'm thankful for the incredible babysitters we've had to fill in the other times.  I'm thankful for a husband who loves his kids so well and takes as much responsibility with the kids as I do, never just assuming that their care is "my job."

Jack starts Kindergarten tomorrow and Ben starts preschool next week.  My babies are growing up.

Dear Jack, Month 60

Dear Jack,

You are five years old.  I'm not sure how that happened so quickly, but it did.  When you were born, people always said things like, "This time flies by" and "Don't blink or you'll miss it."  I politely smiled and nodded, not really understanding what they meant.

But you're five now, and I get it.  I've written 52 monthly letters in your 60 months of life (hey . . . no one's perfect) and I still remember writing your first.  It feels like yesterday.  In it, I wrote about how full your dad and I felt after you were born.  Not necessarily complete.  We already felt complete.  The only word I could think of to describe it was "full."

Full of love and of awe . . . and of fear.  And we still feel that way today.  We love you more than you can know.  We're in awe of what an amazing little boy you're becoming . . . on some days because of us and on others, in spite of us. We also realize that we're only 5 years in and we still have many, many years ahead of us . . . uncharted territory.  We fear that a little.

This is going to be the last monthly letter I write to you here in this forum.  It's not because I don't have anything left to tell you.  I still have a lot to say.  It's because so many of the things I want to write to you about are private.  You're getting older and making friends.  And some of those friends have parents who read this blog.  And some of those friends might even find this blog themselves someday.  Some of the things Dad and I will be teaching you in the years to come are things that you might prefer not be broadcast across the Internet, and I get it.  I might still write you open letters every now and then, when appropriate.  They won't be monthly, though.  But for the most part, what I write to you will be kept private.

I know that I embarrass you sometimes . . . you're five now and you told me last week that sometimes I still treat you like you're 4 1/2.  My apologies.  I've become good at being a mom to babies, toddlers and preschoolers, but I'm still learning about this next stage.  Be patient with me.



You are the best five-year-old I know.  And I'm not just saying that because I'm your mom.  You're so funny and other people love to be around you.  Being your mom is a privilege.

If I had to wrap everything from my last 52 letters up into the three most important things I want you to know, it would be these:

1.  We love you so much.
2.  You are so capable.
3.  I don't care nearly as much about your future happiness or success as much as I care about what kind of person you're becoming.

I love you.  Have I mentioned that before?

Mom

What we've been doing . . .

You know how sometimes people are unaware of their own injuries and trauma because of the adrenaline pumping through their system after an accident?   But then after a little while, the evidence of the trauma is more obvious and they lose consciousness after the adrenaline wanes?

Wait, is that even true?  Or did I see it on Grey's Anatomy?  Everything I know about medicine is thanks to Ellen Pompeo and Sandra Oh. 

Anyway, I just sat down in Panera for a few minutes while Jack is at a pirate art class and that kind of happened to me.  I was feeling ready to get some work done, but about 5 minutes after getting here, I was nodding off.  Just sitting here at my computer, with my  fingers in the ready position and my eyes closed.  I've been running on adrenaline.

This is our first week of camps, after two weeks of pretty intense staff training.  It's going well, but it's hard. Juggling that schedule, the schedules of three kids, all while maintaining sanity is proving to be more difficult this year than ever before.  Maybe we're getting too old to keep up.  Maybe it's having three kids.  I don't know for sure, but I'm exhausted.

Jack's in Adventure Day Camp this year and I have to physically restrain myself from going over and asking him how he's doing and making sure he's wearing sunscreen every time I see him.  Kyle and I trained the counselors . . . we know that they're awesome . . . we have no doubts . . . so what is my problem?

I saw Jack walking with a group of friends on Monday and he waved.  I waved back and blew him a kiss and instantly wished I could take it back as I saw him smirk and his face turn red.  He looked away, embarrassed that I would show any sort of affection toward him IN FRONT OF HIS FRIENDS.  But as they walked away, he stayed in the back of the group and turned around and blew one back so that no one could see him doing it.  He'll love his mom no matter how old he gets . . . he tells me this on a regular basis.

Bennett really likes being at camp but is TIRED and isn't napping well.  He is go-go-go all day and I think has a hard time falling asleep when he's not in his own bedroom.  I'd dare say that he's the cutest 2-year-old I've ever seen or heard.  I love talking to him, because he has such an adult vocabulary and way of putting sentences together, but still talks like he's a 2-year-old.  I can't help but smile every time we talk.  It warms my heart just typing about it.  He loves his balance bike and scoots around on that thing faster than I think he would with pedals!

And Claire . . . sweet Claire.  I've never seen a baby as happy as she is.  It's so funny when people look at her and she smiles at them and they say, "Oh my goodness . . . she smiled at me!"  I hate to burst their bubble and say, "She'd smile at a wet rag if you held it in front of her" so I just say, "She must really like you."  She's getting playful and loves to pull the burp cloth off of her head for games of "peek a boo."  I'm thinking I'll start her on solid foods this week . . . if I find the time.  I gave her a sippy cup with water today and she liked gnawing on it.  She pushes herself in circles, but isn't really close to crawling yet.  Ben and Jack were both crawling and pulling themselves up by 6 months, so it's nice to have things move a little more slowly.  But I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a tiny bit guilty about the fact that she rarely has tummy time.  I don't think she's any worse off for it, though.

Life is good and I don't want to wish away the summer.  But sitting here at Panera right now, I'm thinking about how lovely September will be.

The Batmobile

Jack got this batmobile pool for his birthday and was thrilled when we had a chance to take it out this morning.  I told the boys to get in and strike their best "superhero post."

I guess I should have been more specific with Ben . . .

Five years

I've been flipping through pictures of the day Jack was born . . . five years ago today.  I felt a lot of things as I was looking through them, but the biggest realization to wash over me was "we had no idea what we were doing."

We really didn't.

I had read dozens of books.  I trawled websites and asked questions.  Still, on June 2, 2007, we were in totally over our heads.  I was looking at a photo of Jack laying in his crib for the first time on the day we brought him home.  I remember that moment.  I remember looking at him there and thinking, "What have we gotten ourselves into." 

But, thanks to Jesus and google, we've kept him alive and happy for five whole years.  We've officially been married with kids longer than we were married without kids. Our house is louder and messier, and I haven't had free time since . . . well, I can't even remember.  But I wouldn't have it any other way.



I love this picture.  It's not the best picture of the two of us, but it was at that very moment that my capacity to love was stretched beyond what I knew was possible.  I had already been his mother for 41 weeks already, but at that point, I actually felt like his mom.

Happy birthday, Jackson William!  I'm so grateful for you!

Happy (belated) Easter

Jack wrote an Easter book back in April . . . complete with binding made out of Cars stickers.  It was really cool, because he did it all on his own, without prompting or asking us for help.  I was proud.








He explained that the black crayon was supposed to show that it got dark when Jesus died.




This is Jesus walking out of the tomb (apparently, this is the "behind the scenes" version of the resurrection story).




And this is Jesus going up to heaven.

Makeshift ipad

Back in April, Jack was banned from the ipad for a few days . . . I don't even remember why.  If I had to guess, he and his brother were fighting over it.

Anyway, that ban inspired some creativity and he made his own.  And I think he did pretty well.

First s'mores of the year

Thank you, unseasonably warm weather.

Pop-tart Art

The boys were "eating" their pop-tarts into shapes and then making the other guess what they were. Totally something my sister and I would have done.

Only we would have done it with fig newtons. My mom didn't let us have pop-tarts very often.

How Hobart joined our family

Here's a story from back in January that I forgot to share . . .

The kids' well visits to the doctor have always been some of my favorite days . . . especially Claire's. Kyle and I always go together and normally have a babysitter for the boys. It's the closest thing to a date we get these days. Their doctor's office is 45 minutes away in Chelsea so we get at least 1 1/2 hours to just talk and sometimes we even stop for breakfast. It's glorious.

At Claire's 2-week check up, we made her 1 month appointment and I was counting down the days until January 26. On the night before I was giddy with excitement. I know it sounds crazy, but I was 4-weeks postpartum and had been stuck in the house with 3 kids, one of whom was a newborn, for the entire time.

That night was rough with Claire, so that morning, I let Kyle sleep and I was up with all three. I thought about waking him up when I sat down to nurse Claire, but figured that the boys were playing quietly, so I wouldn't bother him.

About an hour later, I was trying to get the boys dressed and Jack said, "I have something in my nose!" He'd been congested for a day or two, so I got some tissue and told him to just keep blowing until it all came out.

He blew his nose a few times and then started freaking. out. So I sent him to his room, thinking he was just being dramatic. After hearing him in there still crying five minutes later, I went in and said, "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" Not my finest parenting moment.

And he replied, "I TOLD YOU I HAVE SOMETHING IN MY NOSE."

Wait, what now?

I thought he was referring to snot. You know . . . something in his nose causing congestion. I was so, so wrong.

"I put a lego in my nose."

Awesome.

Let me back up and say that a week earlier, Ben had put a peanut in his nose. All the way up there. But with enough blowing and coaxing we finally got him to sneeze it out.

Side note: When I later asked Jack WHY he put a lego up his nose, he replied, "Because I was trying to smell it. It did not smell good."

I tried to look up Jack's nose, but at this point he was freaking out so much I had to call for Kyle. We had him blow and sneeze and did everything we could. We finally decided he needed to visit the ER.

This is about the time I started throwing my temper tantrum. The disappointment over missing our "date" was overwhelming. I just sat down and cried. Ridiculous, I know . . . but well, postpartum hormones don't always allow rational thought to prevail.

Kyle headed to the ER in Chelsea with Jack while I waited for the babysitter to come to stay with Ben. Then I left . . . alone . . . to take Claire to her check-up. Which was also in Chelsea. Two cars making the 45 minute drive separately. Not quite the "morning date" I had hoped for.

They tried to get the lego out, but the 5 people holding Jack down couldn't keep him still enough. So, they decided anesthesia was necessary. I'm so glad I wasn't there . . . I probably would have lost it at that point.

While they were waiting for the anesthesia, the nurse kept working with Jack, trying to get him to sneeze and blow it out. Jack had been crying so hard that his nose was running and she thought that might start to loosen things up.

She was right! Just before they were going to administer the anesthesia he blew his nose real hard and . . . viola! There it was. I received this photo while I was at Claire's check up with her:


Can you see the lego? No? That's because it's smaller than any toy labeled "Ages 3 and older" should be. Needless to say, we "lost" that lego set soon after this incident.

During all of the commotion, one of the nurses brought Jack a teddy bear, thinking it might bring him comfort. It did not. But it did provide a great show and tell item for the following week, during which Jack gave his speech on how to get a free teddy bear.

Aren't you glad your child isn't in his preschool class?

Jack's take . . .

ON GETTING OLDER.

Jack: How old are you?

Rose: Really, really old.

Jack: But how old is that?

Rose: I'm 35.

Jack: No way . . . you have way too many wrinkles to be 35.

ON VEGGIES.

Dan: Are you eating your vegetables?

Jack: No. I'm eating carrots.

Dan: Carrots are vegetables.

Jack: No, they're fruits.

Dan: Let's take a vote . . . who here says carrots are vegetables?

*All adults raise their hands*

Jack: Hmm . . . I think we should pray about this.


ON HIS BIRTHDAY PARTY.

"Hey mom, can my birthday theme be "Superheroes saving animals from bad guys.""

"Hmmm . . . how about just Superheroes?"

"Yeah, but I don't think they're very super if they're not saving anything."

Christmas 2011

I realized tonight that I didn't post any photos from Christmas . . . probably because I gave birth 24 hours after I took these pictures and life hasn't really slowed down yet.

OK, first things first . . . the boys have a little Christmas tree for their room and they actually managed to decorate it together without fighting. Doing anything together without fighting doesn't happen that often.

And yes, Jack is wearing a Burger King crown . . . he wore it for 2 or 3 days straight in December.

We also baked and "decorated" cookies. There was way more frosting-eating than decorating, but whatever. They had fun.

And finally . . . Christmas Day!

I'm mildly embarrassed that we bought this for Ben. It's not normally the kind of toy that we'd buy, but he LOVED it every time we passed it at Target, and his excitement when he opened it was totally worth it.

Jack begged for Superheroes, so he got Spiderman and Captain America action figures. There was definitely staring in Toys R Us as I stood there for 10 minutes, pressing the button to make sure I heard every "wisecrack" Spiderman had to make sure there wasn't anything inappropriate.

It was pretty laid back and fun. It really was my favorite Christmas morning ever!

After opening many, many presents that he could have been playing with, Bennett and Kyle did this for a good 30 minutes. I love that boy.

Christmas Day from Sara on Vimeo.

The first week

Even without a newborn, the week after Christmas tends to be a stressful time. The number of toys with tiny little pieces seems to increase by a multiple of 12 and there's no routine whatsoever. It drives me nuts. In Claire's birth story, I mentioned that when we left for my parents house on Christmas day, we left everything spread all over the house. I told Kyle that the boys and I would work on sorting and putting away on Monday morning when he went in to work. My intention was to take down Christmas decorations that day, too. But we all know that it didn't happen quite that way. So, we came home with Claire on Tuesday to a disaster of a house, with laundry piled up and toys spread everywhere.

On top of that, I was dealing with the whole "healing from childbirth" thing that was much more difficult this time around than it was with either of the boys. The pain medication was great, but caused other issues that caused me to cut it out earlier than I would have liked. There were health issues that caused me to have to do things that will never be spoken of again, or will at least remain secret until Claire is one day complaining that I don't love her or have never done anything for her. And then I'll proceed to outline how much I love her in every painful detail.

On top of that, I'm crying over everything. Every day. I got an Old Navy maternity ad and cried about never needing maternity clothes again. I was folding laundry and folded the clothes I was wearing when my water broke and broke down into tears. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and cry about the fact that I'll probably look pregnant until Claire's first birthday. Silly things, really. I think about my kids and I cry. I think about how tired I am and I cry. I'm not sad about these things . . . just emotional.

Also, breastfeeding has been a lot more painful this time than it was with either of the boys and Claire's had a more difficult time latching on. I told myself I was going to give it until this last Monday and quit if it hadn't gotten any better. It didn't get any better, but other circumstances did, which made the breastfeeding issue less stressful. It still hurts, and I may not make it as long as I did with the boys, but I'm going to stick with it a while longer.

Jack hasn't really seemed to change much or need to adjust to anything much. I think he wants more time with me. And he still refuses to nap . . . he hasn't napped in months, yet we still try to get him to, so that's more our fault than it is his. He loves his sister and does really well with her.

Bennett has really acted out quite a bit since Claire was born. He's much more defiant and ornery. I think he's just testing his limits. He's really good with Claire too. Lots of hugs and kisses for "Baby Tare." He's very inquisitive about breastfeeding, much like Jack was when Ben was born. Just yesterday was the first time I saw any jealously come out with Ben . . . I was nursing her and he kept nudging her and saying "Sit on mama's lap!" I let him climb up as soon as I was done and that seemed to satisfy him.

Both of the boys seem more tantrum prone over the last week, but I don't know if that's had as much to do with a new baby as much as it has the lack of routine, less sleep and junk food that came over the holidays. They've also watched more television over the last week than usual, and that sometimes causes a little more disobedience.

Kyle is incredible. Like that's a shock to anyone. Last week, he took over all household responsibilities, including dealing with the boys. On top of that, he changes Claire most times she wakes up and brings her to me to nurse. I know he's frustrated by the boys' antics, and tired, because he gets about as much sleep as I do at night, and by child #3, there are no naps during the day. Plus, he has to deal with me and the emotional mess I've become.

I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining . . . I know that this is all a part of the first few weeks with a newborn and I'm so thankful for three healthy kids. Overall, so far, I think the adjustment to having Claire has been easier it was when I had Ben. Well, maybe not easier, but less of a shock. Last Wednesday and Friday were probably the two low points of the first week home. My mom made a comment about just taking it one week at a time. She reminded me that in a week, things would be a lot better (and they were) and in a week after that, things would be better still. It's been a helpful way to look at things.

Dear Jack, Months 52, 53 & 54

Dear Jack,

Keeping up with you is such a challenge. You are growing and developing faster than I can handle. The level of conversation you can have is well beyond your years, and your wit is incredible. When we're all in the car together, you often say things that cause your dad and I to just give each other wide eyed stares that communicate, "Did your 4-YEAR-OLD really just say that?!" As we sit there in silence, you often say, "What? Did you HEAR ME?!" as we work to snap out of it and respond. From commentary and analysis of the Revolutionary War (not even kidding) to your take on the lyrics of Christmas songs and how they don't really line up with what Christmas is all about . . . you keep us on our toes. I can't tell you how many times you've asked why Christmas songs are sung about decking the halls when Christmas is really about "the love of Jesus' birth." Oy. Nonetheless, for Christmas you've asked for a bike, superheroes, a watch . . . and a few other miscellaneous things.

You've really become quite the artist, and I love it that I can actually tell what you're drawing. Your drawings of dinosaurs are definitely the best. You also love stickers and painting. You write us notes and cards and your letters and spelling have come such a long way. As I stare at your little sister bulging out of my belly, I can't even believe that you were once there. You're so grown up.

You also like to build and play with legos and anything else that you can eventually knock down . . . that is, if Ben doesn't knock it down first. Ben can be a nuisance to you sometimes, I know, but he only does the things he does because he loves you and wants your attention. And lets be honest . . . you're not always super easy for him to deal with either. You two fight quite a bit, but you also play quite a bit, too. I know that you love each other and I hope that you're friends for life.

I'm so proud of you, Jack. I love you so much.

Mom

Say cheese.

Does this kid have the cheesiest picture face, or what?

How can you look at this and not smile?

Halloween 2011

We did it. We wrestled Ben into his costume. It took lots of coaxing and bribery, but my boys were both dressed up for Halloween. And I managed to get photos.

That might end up being our biggest accomplishment of the week!

Jack had a fever on Saturday and I was sure he'd have to miss school and trick or treating, but it never came back. He still has a raspy voice and a little bit of congestion, so we didn't stay out long.

We only went to the fire station and they got treat bags from grandma, so each of the boys ended up with about 1 0 pieces of candy . . . which is a good number for kids their age. However, they'll totally notice if a piece goes missing. That bums me out.

We had a fun night, although Ben self-imposed a time out at one point. I'm not sure why. He just sat on the step and kept saying "Mime out!"

As Jack was getting ready for school this morning, he said, "If there's ever a fire at school, we go out the emergency door and to the building across the parking lot. But if there's a fire today, they'll be SO lucky I'm there!" I love it.

We had a good time and when we got home, Kyle and the boys popped pop corn and watched The Great Pumpkin.