F for failure.

I took all of the kids to the grocery store by myself yesterday. We went to a small-town small store. How hard could this be?

Setting myself up for failure, I know.

Right about the time I thought I was doing all right, I heard a voice. Loud and getting louder, Ruby was in a panic. Two aisles over. Perfect. I’d lost a kid and didn’t even know she was missing.

I thought maybe it would cure her of her new habit of wandering off. It didn’t. But at least it cured me of not watching her every second. We didn’t get very many groceries after that.

The joys of the English language. So confusing.

My kids love playing with old gift cards, etc. Sterling has a Subway card – and fond memories of the pepperoni sandwich he ate, purchased with said card. He brought it to me yesterday and asked if we could use it again and go to Subway. I told him we could not; there wasn’t any money on it anymore.

Today he brought me the Subway card. His thumb was holding a penny on the top of it. “Now can we go to Subway? There’s money on the card now.”

Oh, my dear, literal boy.

Lumpy cereal: apology necessary or intentional mis-cooking?

As I’m apologizing to my children for this morning’s lumpy cream of wheat after trying to make it while nursing Pierce and finding the inability to stir and pour at the same time produced some massive lumps, I was met with a strange chorus.

They love the lumps.

Well, then. I did that on purpose, children. Enjoy.

It’s the Baby Bug.

We went to the farm show today. An older gentleman and younger gentleman stood looking at me for several seconds. Pierce was in the sling, I was pushing a stroller with three kids in it, and two more were walking beside it. Blaine had headed off to look at a tool booth.

“Look at that.” – Older gentleman

“Wow. Okay, it’s time to go.” – Younger gentleman

The older gentleman turned to me. “He’s afraid it’s contagious.”

6 days old.

Shhh…

Being a baby

in a busy house

is a lot of work.

Where I come from…

Ruby was waiting for her lunch, playing with her fork.

“Just don’t comb your hair with your fork after you put it in your food,” I told her.

Blaine started laughing. “What some people would assume was a given…”

“Nothing can be assumed with Ruby,” I said.

“The funny part of that statement is that you didn’t tell her not to comb her hair with her fork. Just not to comb her hair with her fork after it was dirty. We’re so civilized.”

Yup.

Pierce Allan

This little guy:

made this little girl:
a big sister.
And this big brother:

is the happiest brother in the world.

Introducing Pierce Allan. 9lbs, 0 oz., 22 1/4 inches long, born October 1st, just before 7pm. He beat the midwife here, Daddy caught him, and it was perfect – and perfectly unbelievable. Birth story to follow, posted up with the others on the top right, as soon as I digest it all.

P.s. The older girls are thrilled too. But Ruby’s slightly peeved – but only slightly - she thinks she doesn’t have enough female playmates. Silliness.