Little Miss Sunshine

Last week Molly stayed at school for Lunch Bunch, or "Lunch Box" as she calls it, for the first time.  When I went to pick her up, she seemed older.  Bigger.  It was strange.  I don't know if it was just because she had just done something that "big" kids do, and had lunch at school, or what, but my little girl climbed into my car different that afternoon. 

She was so proud that she had stayed at school and had lunch and played with Mrs. Harrison, the Lunch Bunch teacher.  She couldn't stop talking the whole way home about what they had done.  And I was proud, that she was proud. 

It had been super easy that morning to convince her that she'd have a great time that day at school.  Anything that Jane does she wants to do too.  Jane has lunch at school, so of course Molly wanted to stay at school and have lunch.  Jane does ballet, Molly loves to do ballet too.  Jane did cheerleading, Molly cannot wait until she is old enough.  Last week when it seemed that she was starting to get bored in gymnastics class, I asked her if she wanted to stop for a little while.  Then I asked if she still liked ballet.  She said, "I just want to do cheerleading."  I said she could do it when she turned 5.  So she said, "I like ballet with Miss Glinda." Of which, her name is Miss Linda, but she's been calling her Miss Glinda since she went to princess ballet camp over the summer.  I had corrected her in the summer, but she still kept saying Glinda.  Now I'll just be sad the day she stops calling her that.

I often find myself asking her questions like this:

Me: "Molly, do you want a cheesestick?" 

Molly: (no answer)

Me:  "or no?"

Well, she's driving Brian crazy because now this is what Molly does:

Molly: "Do you want to sit and read this book with me, or no?"

Daddy: "Or not."

Molly: "or not.  Do you want to read this, or no?"

Daddy: "OR NOT"

 

Molly: "Does Jane have ballet, or no?"

Daddy: "or not"

 

Molly: "Do you want to tickle me, or no?"

 

Molly: "Are we picking Jane up now, or no?"

 

hahaha.  repeat this over and over.

 

 

The girl loves her books.  They are probably her favorite things.  Even more so than toys.  She carries them around the house, room to room.  In the morning when she wakes up, she brings a little stack downstairs with her.  She reads them on the couch.  Then she'll bring them into the playroom, and either sit on that couch and read them, or put them in her stroller.  Sometimes she'll put other toys on top.  Then push the books around.  I find books everywhere.  She occasionally gets a hold of a book that she will not put down.  She carries it everywhere, like a blankie.  In the car, in her bed, outside.  She carries it around until the pages are falling out and the cover is torn.  She likes to "read" her own story.  She's heard the stories before, so she half retells what she remembers, half makes it up.  At naptime she does not want me to read to her.  She "reads" to me.  I love how much she loves books.  I hope one day she's like I was as a child.  I loved to get lost in chapter books.  My favorite store was a bookstore.  I had so many books.  I'd stay up past bedtime and sneak my books out to read.  I'd be okay with that!

 

 Molly is definitely our little ball of sunshine.  She's so happy, loves to have fun all the time.  She eats up any one on one time we give her.  Which actually really makes me sad.  When I'm home with her when Jane is at school, I really want to give her all my attention.  Or what I can when I'm not giving it to Owen.  Or trying to get things done around the house.  I feel like I can never give enough.  Sometimes after she's gone to bed at night, I just want to go in there and cuddle her.  Give her all of me.  Give her what she wanted but had been too busy to do earlier.  But she's asleep.  And my presence wouldn't be known.  So then I make sure to give her lots of cuddles when we wake up.  I gather her little body up and plop her in my lap.  I nuzzle her neck and kiss her cheek until she asks,  "Do you want to read my book with me, or no?" 

Owen was having fun in the leaves too, so he's going to sneak his way into this post!

 

 

November

November has come like a breath of fresh air.

 

Maybe it's my old age,

but the things I used to detest about November

no longer seem so bad.

I am welcoming the chilly air,

as it is an excuse for us to stay cozy indoors.

And the darkness that settles in now at 5 in the evening

begs for the glow of candles and the warmth of dim lights

as we read and play and watch our reflections in the black windows.

 

 

 

November looks like expressing our gratitude,

as each evening before dinner we share what we are thankful for.

I love little voices sharing their thankfulness for

"Owen and mommy and daddy and Jane and mommy".

 

November looks like raking and burning leaves.

Happy little girls jumping in leaf piles

and the smell of fire.

 

November looks like some baking,

maybe getting crafty and completing some of those Pinterest projects,

bundling up for a hike or two,

and a lot of evenings that look a lot like this...

 

 

 



Owen Turns One!

My sweet boy is one. 
And sweet he is.
He's just the love of my life and always always just makes me smile.
A mama's boy through and through.
He finds me in the kitchen and hugs onto my leg.
In my arms, he's learned how much I love when he rests he head on my chest or shoulder.
He loves to please me so he'll cuddle against me, seeking my adoration.
He also knows how much I love when he claps, so when he does it, he looks at me and I smile so big for him, and he's happy, too.
When he can't find me, he goes to the gate at the steps and cries, knowing I'll come to him.
In a room of strangers, he's content just sitting on my lap, his little hand often grasping onto my shirt, saying "don't let me go, mama".
And yet my favorite moments are probably those when he is just waking up in the morning or from a nap when I am laying there beside him.
He looks over at me and just smiles, and I spend the next few minutes smothering him with kisses as he squeals with delight.

Even his sisters are awestruck by him.
Now that he's more on their level with walking and playing, they can't get enough either.
Constant, "aww, you're so cute" and "come here, Owen" just melts my heart.
And their nonstop kisses. 
I just die every time.
He adores those girls.
He's so content playing when they are around.
He's also quite taken by their wrestling games.
If they are lying on the ground, it's so much fun to climb over them.
And he never wants to be left out of the rough housing with daddy.
He gets right in there, crawling and climbing all over him, being hung upside down, and tossed over daddy's shoulder.
He loves it!

His favorite toy is a ball.
As it's also the one true word that he says.
The other night he and Molly were rolling the ball back and forth, and I was amazed.
He also has taken to rolling himself over balls, and he squeals all the while, loving it.
And last week at church I was shocked when he picked up a ball and took it to the basketball net and put it in.  (how'd he know how to do that??)

And this little peanut, is just that.
Little.
10th percentile for height (28.5 inches), 5th for weight (18.5 lbs)
He gained a pound and a half since his nine month appointment but hadn't grown any taller.
I'm pretty open to letting him try most foods as long as it's not too hard since he still only has his 6 teeth.
But he's proving to be a true Rush kid with his pickiness.
He's still a better eater than them, just not an eater. 
If that makes sense!
He really likes blueberries and strawberries.
And if Brian is eating a whole apple, he grunts and fusses until daddy lets him have a bite, too.
He's unfortunately also a freak about juiceboxes.
When he sees one, he goes crazy until he gets it. 
And if he doesn't get it, he lets out some serious cries.
And the boy never cries!

As sad as I am that my baby is basically a toddler now,
I'm excited to watch his personality bloom.
It's been an amazing year.
My heart just explodes with joy being in his presence.
He's truly a blessing, and I am so so happy to be his mama.