So Big

C turned three last May.

In March, I switched out her 2T clothes for her 3T. She was then measuring a little smaller than her big sister E did at almost-three, and didn't need her 3T's as soon as E had needed them.

By August, her shirts barely covered her belly button. Her long pants high-watered. And although she finally potty trained over the summer (thank God!) and was wearing underwear instead of bulky diapers, the waistbands on her pants were pinching.

So, I broke out the 4T's.

4T clothes, people. In five months, the girl had grown an entire clothing size!!!

!

I know!

I ended up supplementing her winter wardrobe by buying her some new jeans in a size 4, not 4T. At the beginning of September, those size 4 jeans needed to be rolled up two inches at the hems.

Now? At the end of October? Those same size 4 jeans don't need to be rolled up at all!

C is so big! Too big! The middle child we thought would be our shorty?

Well, guess again!

Wordless Wednesday--Glow

**********

For more Wordless Wednesday, visit 5 Minutes for Mom.

Squished

Ah ha!

I squished the last one this morning.

Victory is mine!

It's the small things, people; the small things.

Bugged

I am irritated with,

frustrated by,

plagued with,

bugged by

fruit flies.

They are everywhere!

Seriously! Where do these little buggers come from? (I mean, obviously, they come from fruit.) But how can my house be clear, my fruit be freshly bought and washed, and two days later, there are swarms?

And as much as I dislike fruit flies, in my kitchen I can at least tolerate them. To a point. I expect them to be in my kitchen. That's natural. That's where my fruit is.

But fruit flies in my bathroom? Gross.

Why, oh why do the fruit flies like my bathroom? I could understand it if I saw them in the sinks or in the shower. Swarming around a source of water would at least make sense.

But the fruit flies in my house? Must be narcissistic or something. Because in my bathroom I see them

on the mirror,

flying in front of the mirror,

walking on the mirror.

And while they are much easier to squish on the mirror, um, gross.

So, yeah. I'm feeling bugged today. How are you feeling?

Wordless Wednesday--Reflection

For more Wordless Wednesday, visit 5 Minutes for Mom.

Wordless Wednesday--Splash

Oktoberfest 2010

We've decided to make visiting Leavenworth an October tradition in our family.

Straight out of the camera. Unedited. I swear! Look at those trees changing colors!

Yes, we know it's Oktoberfest. No, we don't go for the beer.

But we would, if we didn't insist on bringing our kids with us.

Which we do. So we don't.

We walked and walked and walked. And somewhere along a trail, the girls managed to find walking sticks.

And somehow, M never even noticed. That's how excited he was with all of his unexpected, longed-for, outdoor freedom.

He usually gets carried/worn a lot. He tends to wander.

E in the baby swing. What a goof! And yes, that is yet another missing tooth. That makes seven total. With one more loose.

Good grief!

Let's all just pause here and revel in my son's cuteness. Go ahead. He's cute, I know (and dirty, but that's beside the point). But you can tell me again, if you want to.

And just because I'm not convinced you really stopped to gaze adoringly at him long enough, here's another one:

You're welcome. :)

We stopped to throw rocks in the river.

And by "we" I mean C and M.

We climbed rocks and logs down by the river.

And by "we" I mean E and C.

I love this last photo. He's just a boy being a boy.

Oktoberfest 2011, here we come!

Fog

I miss normal.

I miss my old life.

I feel like I'm living in a haze, a fog that has crept in on little cat feet, slowly, catching me unawares. I wake up each day, realizing something is different, something is not quite right.

My life has been shrouded, covered, and I want it back.

I want my mom to be okay.

I want to stop being constantly annoyed by my children.

I want to want to tackle responsibilities rather than escape them.

I want to feel in control, well-rested, and healthy.

I want an actual conversation with my husband, not just a one-sided run-down of the day's happenings. I want to spend time with my husband, not just pass by each other between one meeting or event and another.

I want the fog to lift, to reveal my life again.

I know everything will look different, be different, but still I want to see it, to know it's there, safe and secure.

Even if "normal" is now changed, altered.

At least that way I'd feel grounded, clear-sighted, purposeful.

At least I'd feel like me again.