Painting Fish

The other day at dinner, my 3-y-o went into a dissertation about fish, and as we were eating stated the following:

Mommy, when you have fish, first, when it's on a plate, they have to cut off the tail, and then the head with the smile on it and then they paint the inside orange.

-Really? Why do ...they paint it orange?

-Well, first they have to cut off the head with the smile on it. I don't want it to smile at me. And then it's painted orange on the inside.

-Why do they paint it orange though? (we tried to coax it out of her, but she just wanted to get to the point of not having it smile at her, because that's gross).

-Oh, it's just painted orange after they cut the tail and the head off.

Just like big sister

My girls do lots of things together. I only say lots because big sister went to first grade this year and left little sisters behind. Middle-most sister isn't really behind though because she is reading along with the best of them. At nearly 5 years old, she reads on a beginning kindergarten level. she smart enough to be in K this year, but we decided that she's not emotionally ready for it. I'm so proud of her that she reads so well already.
Biggest sister got 12/10 on her spelling test last week. Why are first graders given words like "behavior" and "cooperate" anyway? I never learned those even as a bonus, until about the 3rd grade.

The June Reference

I really have no other title, but hey...here it is. I was going to write something else, but abandoned it because it wasn't something I thought I should write here. I have been jabbed at by some of my friends that I haven't updated anything lately. C'mon! It's only been a month!
I still work in retail grocery. Nothing new there: biggest sister got her first week of summer vacation done with and the next Monday waltzed into my bedroom at 6:45am and proudly proclaimed that she was "going to school today". We bantered back and forth for 2 hours about it while I convinced her that she really wasn't going to school, and that she had at least 2 more months of play time. I think she is just really anxious for the first grade:
Middlemost sister has some, well, okay a lot of left-over 2-year-old syndrome and whines so very much. I am still learning that the best discipline for her (and littlest sister too) is to scoop her up and hold her while she is pulling a tantrum. I realize that's not what I really want to be doing, when all I really want to do is throw her outside to play in the back yard, but it will only create a sadder, whinier little girl. It is, however, just what she needs. I have had more cuddle time doing this, and we end in more hugs and giggles than there would be otherwise.
Littlest sister is a mumbler. I just want to run and hide from her, but the human side of me yells in hopes that she will hear me being loud so that she will be louder. I know this is wrong, and have made enemies at times with her. She too, I scoop up and cuddle as she is tantruming. It happened just the other morning. Daddy was making pancakes for breakfast and she wanted her favorite, special plate, but it was in the dishwasher. Dirty. As much as we kept telling her that it was dirty, she kept trying to get it out and open and whine and boob about it. We kept telling her that we were going to send her back to bed and this and that, but nothing worked. In a huge rage, I took about 7 quite large, loud steps to the dishwasher, where she was sitting on the floor and I scooped her up and hugged her and we walked to my bedroom, sat on my bed and rocked back and forth as I patted her back. She eventually calmed down and we agreed that she could have a glass plate, instead of her favorite black plastic one.
Baby has learned to really crawl. He never army crawled, he would dig his toes into the floor and push at the same time he used his arms to gain forward momentum. He'd fall on his face this way but would reward us with a giant toothless smile, as if to say "look at what I just did". He's growing way too fast.
Hubby has one class left and then an internship. Please pray that he gets the right one. I don't know what to do for him, except pray. He is doing so well in school and I am so proud of him. We even think he will be able to work at the local university in the fall and teach 3 classes. (He is, after all, buddy buddy with the adjunct professor hiring guy). We hope this works out. I hope this works out. His birthday is this month. This week, actually. He will be XX. It works out for me, because I am XX. I married myself a young'in. It works out for the mortality rate, to be exact. Men tend not to last as long as women do.

Mixed Nuts and Mending the Past

Stop me if I'm wrong, but I think I have created a few enemies in my life. I would be lying if I didn't admit to it. I know I have done wrong to some and hurt some feelings. "I'm only human" right? It sounds like such a scape-goat. Sometimes I think that's exactly what I need. After all, the ancient Jews had a scape-goat. The red-haired goat they would lead up the mountain for sacrifice had to be completely red-haired. If there was even one white, brown, black hair on its entire body, they would cancel the sacrifice and the goat would get to "escape". I'm pretty sure that's how it goes.
Anyway, I'd like a scape-goat right now. I'd like to escape from all the sour things I've ever said, mean things I've ever done and bad things I've ever thought of doing.
I learn this from my children. They are wonderful. The sisters love to dress M. up in headbands, barrettes and flowers. Please...let's let the boy have a chance. But I can't get mad at them because they are having fun and M. isn't old enough to know any better. We'll just have to make him a prince costume or knight costume or something. Maybe...Invader Zim.
I learned today and yesterday, from the whining littlest sisters that to pick them up and hold them through their tantrum isn't really what I want to do, but exactly what they need their mommy to do.
I'm trying to right my wrongs and it's not really working out in my favor. Just over one year ago, we moved out of my mom/dad's house. We went stealth and left while they were away. Things were going south and doing that made them go farther south. But, I will spare details, because I was pregnant and don't remember them, or choose not to remember them. 6 weeks after we left mom/dad's house, I had a real relationship with my mother. It wasn't back to normal, but it was so much better. I hope she can say the same thing. I know I hurt my dad's feelings too, but as far as I can tell, we have mended. I'd like to have a wonderful relationship with the rest of my family, but I can't. We are spread out way too far away for my taste, and it makes getting together really hard. When my mom drove from Virginia back to my home state with my and my two older girls, after hubby got out of the military, we stopped at my older brother home in XXXX. We stayed the night and he and I stayed up until 5am shooting the breeze about nothing. It was FANTASTIC! As tired as I was when I got up 4 hours later, I would do it all over again.

I think my family is nuts, and that is why I love them.

Family. We Grow and Learn....Sometimes.

Sometimes I think I know it all. Other times, I know I don't. Wanna know why? The brain cells come out with the breast milk. I said that last night at work and one of the little girls I work with thought I was serious.

I can't count. It's been proven by testing. I was a music major in college. I failed the chapter on counting and rhythm miserably. Just ask Kara. She is a supervisor in the grocery store I work in. She has the dubious task of checking my till when I'm done counting down and then saying to me, "sara, where is the rest of your money. count your till again." last night, I found 35 still in it, but the tape really did say 200. I promise.
I can't count.
In high school, I learned rhythm in the musical "Into the Woods". It was such a great play. Sondheim is a killer to play though.
Doesn't mean I can count.

Littlest sister is potty training. She had two accidents this week. The first, her diaper leaked because I just didn't change her enough. The second, she smacked her fingers in the door and creased her knuckles when it shut, 3 minutes after I told her to go potty. In the middle of her crying, her little body relaxed and she pooped in her unders. I'm pretty sure this is about the 4th pair we've thrown away. I just can't bring myself to clean cloth underwear of poo. She certainly is a cute little girl though. Her potty chart sure is filling up. Not as fast as we'd like it to, but she's doing very well.

Middle-most sister is doing all the things that biggest sister is doing, but at a slightly slower pace. after all, she is only 4 years old. We forget that she is only 4. Her verbal skills are of a 6 year old. We could technically test her into kindergarten and she would fit right in perfectly. I so wish we could get her into dance class

Biggest sister is about to embark upon her very first field trip. The kindergarten is going to the petting zoo. I'm jealous. I can't go because there is no room for younger siblings. Oh well. I sure hope I can get much done while she is gone for the extra two-and-a-half hours.

My hubby is trying to line up his internship and another job. interning and working at the same place just doesn't jive with his place of employment. It's a conflict of interest. He's on some serious good terms with the person who hires adjunct faculty at the local small university. He told him to call in the end of summer for fall semester. Here's to luck. Of the good kind.

Baby M. is growing so fast. I don't want him to stop, but at the same time, I think he's too big. He won't roll over, but gets frustrated when he ends up on his side arching his back to see what's going on above his head. He'll roll front to back, just not back to front. He gets along quite well in his stander. It carries him all over tthe kitchen and dining room. He loves it. You know what else he loves? Baby food from a jar. That's so much fun to watch him. He gets so worked up about it and then yells at me for putting the spoon down to feed myself, at the same time, so I can only manage one bite at a time. Being my fourth child, I have mastered feeding babies from my lap. I do this so when baby sneezes, I don't end up with a face full of mush, like my sister-in-law. It's just one of those things you gotta learn. The high chair is a thing you use when they can feed themselves.

I enjoy watching my children play with each other and learning from one another and loving each other. I truly am blessed by the love my little family shares with one another, even though we raise our voices a lot.

Most Things Considered.

So I made a new blog. I gave it a better name, and the web address was already taken, so I had to modify it. I'm not as clever at naming things as I thought I once was and moved ALLLLL my posts from the other one to here just now. Since I live in a house full of girls, one boy and a husband, I thought it would be more fitting.
That being said, lets get started.

My husband is in graduate school and it terrifies me. His program requires an internship and he may have to quit his job. I'm scared of that because I make only enough for a single person to be impoverished by, let alone a family of 6. And I don't even get my whole paycheck because of the regular deductions and on top of that, health insurance. We still have to wait to see how things will go, but I have every right to be nervous. Hubby says that we'll just have to wait and see how things pan out and not to worry yet...Come on! I'm female. Women worry for everything. Baby M is teething and I worry about that too.

Biggest sister has been losing teeth now. She is 6 years old and has two holes in her smile. I had the tooth fairy leave 50cents for each one. She was so stinkin' excited. My children are so grown up, and the oldest is only 6. I am ready for them to stop. Not because I am dreading the sassy teen stage, but because they are perfect the way they are right now. I met a woman last night at the grocery store where I work, who's teenagers were really irritating her. She said to me, "don't have children".
"I have four". I said with a smile on my face.
"bury them before they get to be teenagers". She said with a crooked smile on her face that was just really creepy. I felt sorry for her. I love my children and I can't wait for them to be teenagers and pray that we will get along and like each other when they are.

Middlemost sister is 4 and she loves to dance. And take care of Baby M. And be the mom. And change babys diapers. "Make sure you point him down", I remind her as she is fastening it. I wish we could get her into ballet right now. I just fear that when we are able to afford it, she will be too old. (Like six is too old to dance, but it's a good fear).

Littlest sister is a challenge. She thinks she is up to all thing s the bigger sisters can do, but she forgets that most days she should take a nap. Most days, she truly needs a nap. And most days, I deal with it. I scoop her up and hold her while she cries and boobs. Then we start all over. She is so funny. I need a nap too, most days. But I forfeit the nap to work out.

I have lost 10 lbs since Baby M was born. My new pants are pretty loose now. I wouldn't have bought new pants, but the old ones have a hole in the crotch area that can't be fixed. I've sewn all my life and I can't figure out how to fix this one. And there is a giant bleach splatter on the rear, so people always knew it was me. Back to the weight. I'm working every day for this goal, and it seems impossible. Except for yesterday. I'll just put it out there. Yesterday, I weighed 166lbs. I'm pretty pleased with myself, that I can lose it. My hubby thinks that realistically I can lose 30 more, but I don't know that I want to go that low. 20 seems fine enough. But in my mind, I'm comfortable with who I am and the shape I have. Most of the time.
Now that I think about it, truthfully, I'd like to lose the belly. I think a little belly in front is okay, but I have just too much. I think when I lose the weight, because I've had 4 kids, it won't all go away. My sister had a tummy tuck, but I don't think that I could do that. My last was born by c-section in which I nearly died, (Which I will post about later), and that--I believe--is not helpful for the loss of shape.
Anyway, I don't remember where I was going with this because I have been tending to the needs of the wee ones as I type. They are good kids, and helpful too. I love them dearly.

Now I need to read that book about feeding husbands, because I think mine is malnourished.