what have I done?

I haven't been posting for a while, and here's the reason why...

More detailsto come, but that's what's news...

most certainly NOT at a snails pace

Change of topic here away from Rosebud and onto someone else...Abby!

Abby has become mobile over the last month or so...yes, it was a month ago that I took these pictures, but at least they eventually made them here.

She currently has two little bottom teeth, but since these pictures are from a month ago, they aren't there yet. 

I've officially entered into that stage where someone, somewhere needs to have an eye on her almost all the time.  It's not that she's discontent to play by herself - far from it!  I can stick her in room on the floor with a basket of toys and she's all smiles...until she pulls herself up on a chair and can't get down.

Yes, I said she pulls herself up on the chair and I try to remind her that she not even seven months old, she can slow down her developmental milestones.   There's no need to act like a seventh-grader, Abby.  

You just take it easy there on the floor, girl...don't rush this growing up thing.  

Who needs to stand up anyway?

the many adventures of rosebud the snail

You may have been wondering how our household pet has been faring lately...oh, you haven't?  =)

The truth is, Rosebud, our dear little snail friend, has been dead for many days.

The story of her demise is a tragic one, though accentuated by brief bits of creativity.  If you have to die, you might as well go down in a blaze of creative glory.

As I recall, it was Saturday afternoon and I was preparing a plate of cornstarch so that the girls and I could play a little get-to-know-you-game of sorts with the snail.

This article I had read online said that if you put a snail in a plate of smoothed out cornstarch, their footprints will be left on the cornstarch as they glide around. Apparently - did YOU know this? - that snails have hundreds of tiny little feet?  Well, it seems that they do...it's just that we don't know that because all we usually see is that big, disgusting blob.

After placing Rosebud carefully on the plate - actually Samantha had to do it because (ewww!) I still didn't want to touch her - we watched.

She didn't move.  At all.

It was almost as if the cornstarch had paralyed her.

I called the experiment off and left her out of her cage so the girls could watch her more easily.  She seemed perfectly happy, stretching out her fascinatingly long antennae, lugging that big ol' shell around, flaunting her newly painted digs (yes, we applied some purple-sparkly nail polish.  The girl needed some style.).

So she played for a while, and then went back into her little cagey-home thing.  I assumed all was fine.  Later that day, when she retreated into her shell for some introvert-time, I thought nothing of it.

But the next morning, she still hadn't come out.  I still wasn't too alarmed, but that evening when she hadn't come out, I was starting to get worried.  Don't laugh at me for being worried about the snail.  Please.

Upon further inspection (cough, two days later, cough), I realized that a significant amount of cornstarch had gotten inside Rosebud's shell...and then when we put her back into her little house, there are parts of it that have water.

My guess is that the water and cornstarch mixed together, creating a little paste.  While she was sleeping, the paste dried up, firmed up, caked up, whatever you want to call it...thereby - in more or less words - burying Rosebud alive.

And all because I wanted to try a little experiment.  

We did release her into the wild, just in case there was some small sliver of hope that our breed of snails actually hibernate and will wake up at some point.  I guess if we ever see a purple-shiny snail crawling in the grass outside, there will be a happy reunion...

rites of passage and tears from mom

The unthinkable has happened.  

No, America has not been attacked.

But Samantha has started preschool.

I wish it could have been prevented, but her excitement was growing by the day.  She wanted to go.  No amount of my pretend-crying could dissuade her.  She especially loved getting a new backpack, which she so proudly wears.  I swear, it makes her look like she's 10 years old.  

Ok, maybe not ten, but certainly not the "just-barely-three" that she actually is.  

She's way too young to be so excited to leave her mama.

But, since it's only three mornings a week...and only for three hours each time...I gave in.  I knew it would be good for her.  I knew she would make friends and her language ability would take off.  I took the plunge and paid the money and got the backpack.  

She started about two weeks after Emma did.  She was so happy the first day of school:

She also made it in time for morning exercises her first day...she's a little hard to see in the picture (because I was hiding inside and didn't want to reveal my location by getting closer) but she's wearing a yellow shirt with pink shorts...there, do you see her now?) 

She didn't particularly enjoy morning exercises the first day, and just kinda stood there with her hands to her side...but now, she and emma pretend to do morning exercises at home and crack themselves up while they do it.  They seriously do.  
All those things I said about making friends and learning language and all that...well, yeah, it's true.  Samantha has her own little friends that love her - "Samantha's here!" they all yell when she arrives.  Samantha has her own little boy that pesters her and gets added to her nighttime prayer list.  Samantha is speaking asianese with courage and accuracy.  It has been good for her. 

And, maybe, it's been good for me too.  It helps me treasure the times when they are home.  It helps me get motivated to plan fun stuff for them to do when we're all together.  It gives me a little time by myself, to play with abby, run errands, and blog.  (Oh, and shower.  I've got to start working showers into a normal part of my day.)

I know my kids won't stay with me forever.  Letting them go, bit by bit, is just a natural part of growing up.  But I feel that my hesitancy to let them go reminds me and forces me to depend more and more on the Lord and trust in His care and watchfulness over them.  

first day of school

Because my other alias is "slacker-blogger", I'm just now posting these pictures from Emma's first day of school that was.....um, let me check, here....oh, sheesh....one month ago.  

Anyway, she chose her new "rainbow dress" as the outfit of choice, and double braids for the hair.  It's hard work being a four-year-old, and you need to look nice whenever possible.  :)

Inside her class, everyone was lining up to get ready for morning exercises outside.  Morning exercises are the highlight of her day, and (if I happen to be watching) are usually the highlight of mine.  
Why are they the highlight of my day, you ask?
Well, it's because you get to see grown women doing strange little aerobic things for four-year-olds to imitate, while the loudspeakers are playing things that belt out: "Good morning, sally!  Good morning, henry! How are you? I am fine!" in heavily accented voices.  

Trust me.  It would be the highlight of your day too.  
We are so thankful for this school.  I feel like we've found a great environment with teachers who really care about our girls, a principal who understands our opinions, and where our kids really like to be.  Sure, there are issues - is there anywhere or anyone who doesn't have issues?  But, after some of the stuff we've seen, we can deal with these issues!

Can you see Emma in her rainbow dress in the picture above?  This was her first day doing morning exercises...and now she's a pro!  She comes home and shows me the moves - and that really makes my day!

an afternoon with mom

I had planned a special surprise for my girls, but they had no idea it was even coming.  

The surprise involved a lot of preplanning on my part, and required the gathering of several important items.   Several of those items were purchased at a local dog market, and a few were purchased online.  Yes, this special surprise might have involved fur, four legs, and the usual amounts of poo and pee.

My heart was ready.  

The day arrived when we would make the purchase and bring the surprise home.  

But - as is so often the case in this country - things didn't quite work out the way I thought.

The dog market was closed due to a massive sanitation campaign (I guess it was too dirty?)  The breed we had wanted to buy no longer existed in our city.  Other comparable breeds were being sold for WAY more than we wanted to pay for them.  It was not to be.  

But I had planned NOTHING for this particular day, thinking the activities would likely be centered around the new, furry-ish creature who would be running around our house. 

So I had to think fast. In the absence of one surprise, give another.  

I took the girls to a nail salon.  They thought it was a fabulous surprise.  

There was a mind-boggling array of selections and designs.  Of course, not all of them would fit on the tiny nails of the girls I brought with me.  

They each carefully made their choice and sat down to get fancied up.  

Emma chose pink with black and white dots:
Mantha opted for blue with white hawaiian flowers:
They took their places just like the other big girls did.  They watched everything with intent fascination. 
Emma was done first and was thrilled with the result.
So thrilled was she, in fact, that she went to nearly every single person in the mall...showing and telling them about her beautiful nails.  I love the ladies laughing in this picture.
She even woke up this grandfather who was sleeping to show him her nails.  
...and the ladies at the makeup counter were not left out.  
When samantha was finally done (a few of hers had to be repainted due to her wiggliness), she was inspired by emma's friendliness...
...and found the eyeshadow artists...
...and some other customers.  
It was a really fun outing, and even though it wasn't a four-legged creature, the girls and I had a great time.  I enjoyed being with them and doing something new together.  After they were beautified, we went to a park down the street and burned off whatever energy might have been left in their bodies.  

goodbye, summer...

Last week, I took my kids to the park in tank tops and shorts.  Not only were we reprimanded (to be expected) but they were right: it was cold.  

I drug out all the trunks and brought out all the fall/winter clothes.  Put away all the summer clothes.  

The air conditioner has been off for 6 days.  

I found $5 in the pocket of some jeans that had been stored in the back of the closet.  

Yep.  Goodbye, summer.

Goodbye, sunny and carefree days.

Goodbye, playing outside til 8pm.
Goodbye, tank tops and dresses.  

But...

hello, new clothes!  (That would be a 5T for emma! How did that happen?)

hello, fall breezes and after-dinner walks!

hello, changing leaves and light jackets!

hello, being gently warmed by the sun...not roasted!

hello, sweet cinnamon pumpkin candles!

And, in honor of the change of time, I'll be the first one to say that I'm glad last week is over.  Last week brought unusual trials and frustrations.  But, today is Monday.  I'm mentally starting over.  His mercies are new every morning, so my attitude should be too!  My to-do list is out, my house helper is in, and today is a new day.  

Hope yours is good, too.

oh, em...

My eldest daughter has the unique ability to exasperate me and entrance me.  

The exasperating times I will keep private, but I was entranced this week when, after Emma was told to go make her bed, happily trotted in there.  From the corner of the couch, I could see into her room.  I watched as she got all her things together, lined them up one by one, and then after folding her blanket and putting it its spot, she whispered, "Perfect".  Then she trotted out, off for a day of play.  

This personality trait of organization and diligence has come out more and more recently.  I've watched her sit and work hard, for long periods of time, to achieve an exact goal or an exact look.  I've watched her develop routines for the way she does things, like how she makes her bed, or gets dressed in the mornings.   It makes me smile, and I love learning new things about her.  

Today, I snuck into her room while she was eating lunch to take a picture of her perfectly-made bed, the one that looks the same every single day.  I wanted to document this level of organization.  From left to right, she's got sheep pillow, pink-cow pillow, green bunny, Christin the polar bear (or pola-bear, as she calls it) and a cute bear that she lifted from Abby's room several weeks ago.  Always in this order.  Never out of order.  

She saw me in there and asked what I was doing.  I told her I thought she did a great job making her bed and I wanted to take a picture of it.  She smiled a little bashful smile, and looked down to study her work.  Her face wrinkled into a frown, and she reached down for her blanket (that I had laid on her bed, for purposes of the picture).  

"Blanket is in the wrong spot.  Blanket is supposed to sit on this blue flower right here."  She put blanket down in exactly the same spot he's in every morning.  Who ever would have guessed I'd have a detail-oriented daughter?

Then tonight, she found a business card for California Pizza Kitchen.  She read it quickly, then handed it to josh and said, "Daddy, when we go to California, you need to give this to someone."

Oh, Em.  How I do love you!

a new set of wheels

We've borrowed a little walker from our friends John and Rachel; we have like a baby-gear community here.  It's cool.

Who loves this walker?  Abby.  Abby loves it more than anything else except snuggles and milk. 

She loves the freedom, the feel of the wind in her face, the sound of the wheels across the floor...well, I'm not sure about the wind and wheels part, but for sure the freedom part.  

She has used the walker to inflict terror on every member of the family - daddy's toes, mommy's paranoia with touching the trash can, Emma's tower of asianese characters, Samantha's arrangement of the dollhouse...yes, no stone has been left unturned and terror has been inflicted in an equal-opportunity way.  

Do you see the delight on this face?  She's got wheels and isn't afraid to use them.  

One day, we were studying about vowels and had pulled out some floor letter puzzles.  The first task was to arrange all the letters in the alphabet together, and then we'd start figuring out who were the vowels.  
Then Abby rolls on over to scope out what is going on:
She gives an innocent yet slightly sinister grin:
...and manages to sent puzzles and flashcards flying all over the place.  We were in the middle of a game that I hastily made up, called "Put the Vowel on the Towel".  Yeah, no one is paying me big bucks to come up with names like that, it just happens naturally.  Heh, heh, heh...

We regathered the consonants, put the vowels back on the towel, and the girls got lots of extra practice, thanks to Abby's new wheels.  

no better ideas

Some days, I don't have any good ideas.  

The problem with not having any good ideas is that I still have children.  Children who like good ideas.  

When I don't have any better ideas, I bust out the paint.  Everyone loves "Free Paint".  Not because the paint is free, but because mommy isn't telling you what we're supposed to be painting.  

I also always do this activity individually; Emma was in the bedroom playing Leapster while Samantha painted.  Roles changed when Samantha was done.  I find that the atmosphere is much more free and creative and relaxed when only one is painting.  There's no back-and-forth about I'm-painting-a-bear-and-you-can-too, or stuff like that.   Plus, it's much easier to take pictures.  I really like taking pictures of people painting.  

I think Samantha is beautiful, have I ever mentioned that?

I really liked using my new lens and playing around with what I wanted to focus on - Samantha in the next two, and the painting in the third one:




She was hard at work the whole time...working quietly, but very exact.
In the end, she was happy with her work, and I was happy with my pictures.  
Sometimes, having no idea is a good idea.