My sweet, littlest O,
Eating with you is always an adventure. You're one of our best eaters, but that doesn't mean you're the most conventional. For instance, you're a nibbler. You eat at a decent pace until you're near finished. At that point, you start taking the teeniest, tiniest bites. Microscopic morsels. When you're not delicately nibbling, you're stuffing your face. And, by this, I don't mean that you're eating a ton... No. You're literally stuffing your face into the food on your plate to eat like a puppy. No hands. While standing. You bend forward while on your feet, place your face in your food, and take a bite. Of course, the other littles think that this is hilarious. And I'll admit, I find it a bit entertaining, too. Tonight, after dinner was over, you topped off your dining spectacle by licking your sippy cup clean of food remnants. Oh, little O.
Love,
Mom
18 June 2016
Little B,
For the past year or so, I've affectionately called you Boos. I had originally wanted to nickname you Benj, but it never stuck. Boos has. Until now. Your dad jokingly called you by a name an uncle dubbed you when you were just a wee thing. So today, when I asked if you were my Boos, you replied, "No. No Boos. I'm Blobby B." Lovely...
Love,
Mom
For the past year or so, I've affectionately called you Boos. I had originally wanted to nickname you Benj, but it never stuck. Boos has. Until now. Your dad jokingly called you by a name an uncle dubbed you when you were just a wee thing. So today, when I asked if you were my Boos, you replied, "No. No Boos. I'm Blobby B." Lovely...
Love,
Mom
13 June 2016
To all of my littles,
There are SIX of you now. Has been for almost a year and a half. You know what that means? That means that I have totally dropped the ball on documenting the hilarious things that you do. I've missed a lot. But that's okay; I can continue forward and make sure that I am consistent, since I doubt you guys will ever leave me with a lack of silly doings. You're kids; it's who you are. So I am hereby reviving this blog. There will be updates. There will be changes. But I promise to write down the little things that bring a smile to my face in this crazy adventure called life.
Love,
Mom
There are SIX of you now. Has been for almost a year and a half. You know what that means? That means that I have totally dropped the ball on documenting the hilarious things that you do. I've missed a lot. But that's okay; I can continue forward and make sure that I am consistent, since I doubt you guys will ever leave me with a lack of silly doings. You're kids; it's who you are. So I am hereby reviving this blog. There will be updates. There will be changes. But I promise to write down the little things that bring a smile to my face in this crazy adventure called life.
Love,
Mom
02 October 2014
To my L,
While we were at the park the other week, we had a quick lesson on anatomy. The park backs up to horse property and one of the horses was at the gate. You and D had been calling it a "daddy horse", to which I replied, "I'm not sure if it's a 'daddy horse'. You'd have to check the anatomy." You asked what anatomy meant. I did my best to answer. You were confused at first, but when I used anatomically correct terms for body parts, you understood immediately. Off you ran to visit the horse while I returned my focus to a conversation with my friend. Next thing I know, you are yelling. "MOM! MOM!" I look over. "MOM, IT'S NOT A DADDY HORSE BECAUSE IT DOESNT HAVE A PEN*S." You said it as plain as day. As another mother with her handful of young little ones was within earshot. And anyone else within a 100 yard radius... It was a mortifying, yet hilarious moment. While I am glad that you are using correct terms for body parts, maybe we should have a little discussion on when it is appropriate to yell them across the park. Which would be never.
Love,
Mommy
While we were at the park the other week, we had a quick lesson on anatomy. The park backs up to horse property and one of the horses was at the gate. You and D had been calling it a "daddy horse", to which I replied, "I'm not sure if it's a 'daddy horse'. You'd have to check the anatomy." You asked what anatomy meant. I did my best to answer. You were confused at first, but when I used anatomically correct terms for body parts, you understood immediately. Off you ran to visit the horse while I returned my focus to a conversation with my friend. Next thing I know, you are yelling. "MOM! MOM!" I look over. "MOM, IT'S NOT A DADDY HORSE BECAUSE IT DOESNT HAVE A PEN*S." You said it as plain as day. As another mother with her handful of young little ones was within earshot. And anyone else within a 100 yard radius... It was a mortifying, yet hilarious moment. While I am glad that you are using correct terms for body parts, maybe we should have a little discussion on when it is appropriate to yell them across the park. Which would be never.
Love,
Mommy
20 August 2014
Dear sweet little N,
Not so much a silly story here, rather some things Mommy wanted to write down about your most recent adventure. I guess you were trying to bite L the other night. He retaliated by shoving you. You flew across the bed and your face smacked into the metal bed frame. Essentially, you broke your nose (cartilage, not bone we later found out). Mimi and Papa immediately came over to make sure a visit to the ER wasn't necessary. You clung to me for dear life - that is until I tried to applied ice. Then you clung to Mimi until SHE applied ice - at which point you wanted Papa. You eventually calmed down and slept with me in my bed. Notice I said that YOU slept. I did not. I was kicked all night by a certain someone... In the morning, I took you to see the doctor. You were amazing. So brave and strong. While we were at the imaging center to x-Ray your nose, you danced around the lobby like a crazy ballerina with some break dancing moves thrown in. It was slightly hilarious. If it weren't for your purple and green face, people might not have realized anything was amiss. To top off the whole experience, you fell off the table the following day and received a racquetball-sized goose egg on your forehead. N, I may need to put you in a bubble to keep you from any more head injuries.
Love,
Mommy
Not so much a silly story here, rather some things Mommy wanted to write down about your most recent adventure. I guess you were trying to bite L the other night. He retaliated by shoving you. You flew across the bed and your face smacked into the metal bed frame. Essentially, you broke your nose (cartilage, not bone we later found out). Mimi and Papa immediately came over to make sure a visit to the ER wasn't necessary. You clung to me for dear life - that is until I tried to applied ice. Then you clung to Mimi until SHE applied ice - at which point you wanted Papa. You eventually calmed down and slept with me in my bed. Notice I said that YOU slept. I did not. I was kicked all night by a certain someone... In the morning, I took you to see the doctor. You were amazing. So brave and strong. While we were at the imaging center to x-Ray your nose, you danced around the lobby like a crazy ballerina with some break dancing moves thrown in. It was slightly hilarious. If it weren't for your purple and green face, people might not have realized anything was amiss. To top off the whole experience, you fell off the table the following day and received a racquetball-sized goose egg on your forehead. N, I may need to put you in a bubble to keep you from any more head injuries.
Love,
Mommy
