The Good Times

This is why I like us all being home.

I’m making lunch and packing up to go visit Jacob this afternoon.

Lucy is practicing violin, working between piano, YouTube videos, and her metronome to get it “just right.”

I walked by the art room, and Samantha (who could not, would not read this time last year) is reading one of my childhood favorite books, Happy Birthday Moon, to Isaac (in Batman outfit) and Clare (caring for a baby bear).

These are the good times.  Lord, help me remember that!

Archery Practice

The Scene:
Isaac is playing with a (purple) bow. Of the bow-and-arrow, not hair decoration, variety. The arrows (mercifully) are missing.
Samantha: “No, Isaac! You can’t shoot people.” Pause. “UNLESS they’re sleep darts. I’m OK with sleep darts.”
Anyone know where I could get some of those?

A lot of name for her size

Samantha can write her name now…kind of.  She writes “Samo”.  Don’t ask me where the “o” came from.  But lately she’s added an extra circle to the end as a period.  So now she signs her name “Samoo”.

But she has requested not to be called that.

Nor, sadly, Samwise Gamgee.

It’s been two years, give or take

I was noticing as I got out the winter clothes a couple of weeks ago, that Clare now fits (although barely!) in the dress I bought for Samantha for Dad’s funeral.  It’s funny the way time works, and the things that remind us.

Ah, Clare

Regarding a diaperless Clare…

Lucy: “That is a pretty big bottom.  I’d like to keep looking at it.  ‘Cause it’s pretty big.”

To Clare playing in the living room…

Samantha, in her sweetest cajoling mommy voice: “I appreciate you doing good.  Thank you.”

There were never such devoted sisters…

I was innocently, or at least unsuspectingly washing dishes.  The girls were playing outside.  Lucy came in to finish preparing the “tea” for her tea party in the back yard, and she calmly announced that Samantha was on the truck.

“On top of the truck?”  I asked, sure she must mean something like “tricycle”.  “The one we drive around in?”


I blinked in disbelief, and headed for the door.  Sure enough, as I walked out, Samantha was sliding down the windshield.  She didn’t make a fuss, just slid down off the truck like she had done it every day of her life.

I wasn’t sure how she could get up there in the first place, since she is only as tall as the tire.  So I asked.  Did she climb the wheel or the front bumper?  Wheel.  Wasn’t it high?  Yes, she couldn’t do it on her own.  So how did she get up there?

“Lucy helped me.”

So much for my faith in the common sense of almost-five-year-olds.

“Lucy, how did you help her get up there?”

“She couldn’t do it, so I gave her a push on the bottom so she could get up.”

I’m seriously starting to be worried about being outnumbered by these three.  Clare is about to start crawling, and then there will be no stopping them.

At least I won’t have to spend much time teaching them about cooperation.

Would you prefer peas?

Me: Would you like some broccoli?

Samantha:  I don’t like broccoli.

Me: What do you like?  Besides cookies and candy.

Samantha: I like ice cream and cake.  And icing on cake.

My mom claims she gets it from her, and that she got it from her mother.  I think it’s time to start making some “nutritional” cookies.  😉 (= sneaky mommy face)

But I Nana!

That was Samantha’s explanation.  Now for the story.

I was next door at Bob and Mary Lou’s house, with Clare.  I thought that Ben and Helen (Craig’s parents) were at the store, and Lucy and Samantha were swimming with Uncle Sean.  When I came back, I found that Ben and Helen were back and Samantha was in trouble.  Apparently after they had finished swimming, she had put on a pair of Nana’s shoes, which meant she was Nana, with all the rights and privileges accompanying that.  So she unlocked the back door, went out and got herself a beer out of the mini-fridge by the pool, because, as she said, “I thirsty.”

(Fortunately, she’s not as good at opening cans as she is at unlocking doors.)

Christmas 2010

I only have a couple of pictures, but here are some of the Christmas festivities.  A couple of weeks ahead of time, Craig made a gingerbread house.  It never did get decorated!

Christmas was two days after I got out of the hospital from the original bleeding episode, so no pics of me!  But here are the girls, dressed and ready for mass.

We had Christmas morning at our house, and the Craig’s family came over later since I couldn’t go out.  Mom and John had planned to be with us, which worked out great since they were also able to watch Lucy and Samantha most of the time we were in the hospital.  And that was pretty much it.  I was just really glad to be home and not in the hospital.