March 20My daughter is a collector of little pieces of paper. Ryan and I are afraid she's going to end up on Hoarders one day. Here is a sample of what is in her "bag" at any given time. Of course, there's Googie's business card from her previous real estate company, a tag I cut out of her dress, a price tag, and play money.
A couple of days ago, she had a purse full of tiny cut up pieces of paper. As we were getting back into the car at Wal-Mart, several pieces of the paper fell out, some of them blowing away. She squealed in horror, "My papers!" I was ridiculously trying to save as many of these pieces of trash as I could.
This is a picture of one of her cubbies in her room. Cards she has made, little coloring sheets, index cards, stickers, scribbled on church prayer request forms, the cardboard that comes with sticker pages - and one of her favorite things: the subscription forms that fall out of magazines. If she sees one, her hand reaches out as quick as possible to snatch that little treasure.
One of her babysitters was here the other day, helping us hang up laundry, and she pulled a price tag off one of her new dresses. Sis immediately latched onto it. "Can I have that?" - and put it with the rest of her "things."
Sissy made a floating vase with the dandelion flowers she picked for me.
May 22This is the thing I DO NOT understand about my youngest son. There are moments he comes to me with his head hanging down, "I did something you're not going to like." or "I'm sorry; I didn't something really bad." He's remorseful and asks "if I'm mad at him." Examples of these times: spilling water on the floor, accidentally getting a hole in his pants - or like this time, sneaking paint out of the house and painting an old tire and parts of their "clubhouse" they had been working on. (You know, things that I'm not mad about at all.)
I have NO IDEA why these accidents and moments of silly childhood fun cause him to care about punishment or disappointing me. Because the talking back, the fighting with his siblings, the running from me - you know, the things I really do care about...these things don't seem to register with him.
This was the clubhouse area with our shiny black painted tire.
Look out. Ornery meets Ax.
Speaking of "ornery," as we were leaving my parents' house, Dash informed me he had put this thorny branch in the driveway so that it would poke a hole in Papaw's tires. Typically, his orneriness is not mean-spirited, and I really don't think he meant this as such. It was just an example of the curiosity, clever, and jokester within him melding together.
Dash and Sissy used this old dog bowl they found outside to make, what they called "mud pies." I caught them trying to put it in the oven. I did let them put it in the oven, but I obviously did not give in to their pleas to really cook it. I really hope I made it clear that 1) Plastic (and also dirt, for that matter) is not meant to be cooked in the oven. And 2) They are, under no circumstances allowed to start the oven on their own for any reason.
Big work day outside. I happened to look out the side window to see Dash trying every which way to unattach his coat sleeve from the bird feeder. Not sure how that happened. Daddy soon came to the rescue.
March 26After another day of working outside, this is the game that my little ones created. We heard and saw them running around the house, chasing each other, and squealing for the longest time. We finally realized they would go to the outside faucet, fill their mouths with water, and play chase. Then, they would end up spraying their mouthfuls of water at each other.