Two Wheels...

Every mile stone that my Little Man hits, I am reminded that it's our last...it's the last time one of our children will take their first steps, it's the last time one of our children will say their first word.  I had Dan actually take a picture of me with the last breast milk bottle I pumped for my Littlest Man.  The lasts just keep coming...and unfortunately there is no pause button.


On Saturday, I went out grocery shopping by myself while Dan kept the kids entertained at home. I wasn't gone for that long...nor did I expect a last first to happen while I was away.

When I came home, my Littlest Man was on two wheels. His training wheels were tossed to the side. My Littlest Man is little for his age, but I could have sworn that he grew a couple inches while I was away. I was so excited for him, and frankly, I was thrilled that now I won't have him lagging behind on bike rides...bikes are much faster without those training wheels! It did however, remind me that we will be hitting another big, huge milestone in just a few months...my Littlest Man is going off to kindergarten in the fall...but for now, I like sitting in the driveway and watching him speed around on his two wheeled bike, his little bony legs peddling so fast, asking me to watch him...and I do because, afterall, there is no pause button.

The Question

Last night, the house was quiet.  All the children were snug in their beds and Dan and I were getting ready to watch The Deadliest Catch together.  I was summoned in to Kait's room.  She was wide awake and ready to chat.

My sister is due to have her fourth boy.  There's been a lot of talk about it around here.  Kait has been asking every morning and every night for the past few days if Aunt Calist has had her baby yet.  I guess it got her thinking.

I walked in to her room and she asked if Aunt Calist was in labor.  I told her that it didn't look like there was going to be a baby tonight.  I could see the wheels turning...and I braced for the question.  I didn't know exactly what question it would be, but I knew what direction this conversation was going:

"Mama, where do babies come out of exactly?"

It was in that instant, that her life flashed before my eyes.  In that split second, I imagined my little Kait, not even an hour old, wide eyed and curious, looking around at the big world...I imagined the nights walking her around the house to get her to sleep...I imagined her strong willed little spunk before she could even talk, her obsession with elmo, her saying her first words, taking her first steps, going off to school.  Where have the years gone?

I now have an almost eight year old asking me questions that I have to answer with words like, "vagina", "uterus", "placenta", "dilate", "hormones", and "hysterectomy"...yes, it was a pretty in depth conversation and she had a whole lot of questions...and some of my answers caused her eyes to get as big as saucers.  Never once did she get embarrassed.  Never once did she act uncomfortable.  It was as if we were talking about the weather or her day at school.

So when our conversation came to an end (it was way past her bed time and Daddy was getting a little antsy), I made sure to tell her that what we just talked about was something so special and private...not to be talked about with friends or joked about.  I let her know that she can come to me with any questions that she has and I will always be willing to sit down with her and talk about anything.  She looked at me with her big brown eyes...the same big eyes that I stared in to after she made her entrance in to this world...she had a big smile on her face and she said, "Do you think that tomorrow night we can talk about more stuff like this?  I have a few more questions."  And so, I made a date with my little girl, who is becoming not so little anymore, to talk about things that I can't believe I am talking about with her already.

I turned off her light, told her I loved her so much, and I fought back tears as I walked out of her room.  She's growing up...and there's not much I can do about it.  The thing is, people have warned me about this kinda thing...that they grow up way to quickly...and I don't know why it shocks me still.

Tonight, I am fully prepared for the question, "Mama, now that I know how babies come out, how exactly do they get in there?"

We've Ruined Her

...depending on how you look at it.

Back in March, when we went to Florida, the kids all spent a week sleeping on the floor in their sleeping bags.  They enjoyed it.  I assumed that they all missed their beds and would resume sleeping in them once we got home.

I was wrong.

Every night, but one, since then, Kaitlyn has made herself a bed on the floor.  After three weeks of sleeping on the floor, she informed me that I could sell her bed...she didn't need it anymore.

Maybe I have readied her for a third world country.

Or, maybe I have ruined her to a life of back problems and sleeping separately from her husband.

I really don't know.

But, I do know that last night she really freaked me out.

I was coming out of our bathroom and looked in the hall way to find this:

It reminded me a bit of a scene from a certain movie that gave me nightmares as a child.  Can you take a guess?  All that is missing is the house and the ruby red slippers, but you get the idea.

I am stumped.  I don't know how on earth this could be more comfortable than a bed, but whatever floats her boat. 

Collinisms (Funny things Little Man says)

My Middle Man stayed home from school today.  While I was waiting for the pediatrician's office to call me back to tell me when they would be able to fit us in, the boys were having a nice time playing together.  For the most part, they get along great.  My Little Man runs the show, while my Middle Man follows his lead, but makes suggestions along the way.  It's funny to sit back and listen to their conversations.  Little Man always has his head in the clouds...he's a dreamer...marches to the beat of a different drum...almost always his own.  Middle Man, however, is a thinker...he's a realist...a bit of a pessimist...a black and white sort of guy.

Middle Man was talking to Little Man about the Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit)...a topic that is way over any four year olds head.  It was a cute conversation and Middle Man was trying so hard to explain it.  Little Man has had a bit of an obsession with talking about Satan lately, so the conversation automatically turned to how bad Satan is and how we should not follow him or pray to him.  Middle Man confirmed what Little Man was saying and told him that, indeed, we should only pray to Jesus.  I heard a bit of a gasp escape from Little Man and he quickly said, "Awww, you know what?  Aunt S is not being good.  She always tells us to pray to ourselves!  We should never pray to ourselves.  That's so bad, right?"  Which then turned in to a conversation about what "Praying to yourself" means and how it's not at all wrong.

****

On the way to the pediatrician's office, Little Man kept insisting that we were going the wrong way.  It's been a good winter and the kids have hardly been sick at all...it's nice that he has forgotten the way to the doctor.  I kept telling him that I knew where I was going and that he could just sit back and relax and before long he would be able to see that I knew what I was talking about.  Not long after that, it clicked for him that we were headed in the right direction and he burst out, "Mama, you are a genius!  You do know the way!"