Ella's 5th Birthday

It’s June 25th, the day she’s been waiting on for at least 6 months, her birthday. The party happened over the weekend, but today is the day that she is actually 5 years old. I wonder what all she imagines that to mean?

Ella has become such a responsible, self-sufficient kid. So much so that I sometimes forget that she is just 5, not 12. I have to remember that just because she isn't demanding my time like she did when she was younger (like her brother does now), doesn't mean she does not need me to spend the time. She still loves to be read to, she can sit in her room and play Barbies or Fairies or Little Princesses for hours at a time. She still teaches her imaginary classes – school sometimes, but mostly gymnastics and dance these days.

She and Luke have started playing more and more games together. Her increasing patience with him and her willingness to accommodate his lingering toddler-ness amaze me. Now, instead of being mad when he is melting down in the evening, she makes comments like, “He’s having a rough night, isn’t he?” She tries to distract him or make him feel better when he’s upset. It’s a beautiful thing.

She seems to have set a few goals for herself for this summer, and she’s been working hard on all of them.

1. Learn to swim. We signed her up for lessons, which she loved, and she hasn't used floaties since her lessons ended. She's not strong enough yet to pass a swim test, but she's getting there quickly - especially if we just leave her alone and let her practice without instruction.

2. Learn to read. She often selects books that are way too young for her because she wants to study the words as we read, not the story. She has started recognizing printed words that she learned to spell aloud. I first realized this when she told me the binder that the gymnastics coach carries around says “love”. When we talked about how she knew that and that she was starting to read, she started listing off the other words she knows – a lot of them from her chore charts that she looks at every day. I've also been finding her using the VTech V.Reader a lot lately, and even playing the word games that go with the stories.

3. Practice writing. I made some lined paper like you get out of a writing tablet and put a stack of it in her school drawer (that’s where she keeps her teaching supplies), and she frequently gets a piece and practices her letters and numbers. The numbers are the trickiest, so she’s been working on them a lot, but she likes to write people’s names, too.

She is tired of gymnastics, but she still loves soccer and plans to play again in the fall.

A friend suggested we take her to eat lunch at the school this summer so she can get accustomed to the lunchroom, so Grandmother has been taking them a few days a week. Ella has declared the school lunch to be “the best food ever”. I would take that personally, but I know she’s excited about eating lunch at school like a big kid. Unfortunately, the elementary school is under construction for the summer, so they have to eat at the high school, but she’s still getting the lunch line, food tray, serve yourself, open your own milk carton and ketchup packet experience. And she has learned about the noise, and the fact that not every food service establishment has ranch dressing for your every whim. Also, she has decided that she will not be taking her lunch to school next year, so, whoop! She’s been drinking cow’s milk, too. I think that might be the best part about the whole deal for her. The only drink choice is cow’s milk. She loves it so much and she hasn’t really gotten to drink it since she was two. I told her she could try it for a while and see how it goes, and so far she hasn’t had any extra snot or eczema so I'm hoping she's outgrowing that allergy.

We pray with her every night and I've recently been caught off guard by the thoughtfulness of some of her requests.

Of all of us, she has put the most things in our Good Things Jar.

When I first imagined myself with children, I couldn’t think past the baby stage. I was truly nervous about having kids – not babies, but actual kids. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to relate to them, or that I just wouldn’t like them as much as I liked babies. I just couldn’t think past the first couple of years to figure out how the kid thing would work. Do you know what happened? She changed from a baby to a kid before my very eyes without me even realizing it was happening, and she’s a pretty cool kid. She’s a kid I want read to and talk to and cuddle up on the couch with. She makes me laugh and she makes me think, and I’m so thankful that God put such an amazing person in my care. I am humbled by the beautiful person she is becoming.

Cake and ice cream for breakfast.

Closing a Chapter

Ella's preschool graduation was tonight. Ironically, I paid for preschool graduation and registered for kindergarten in the same week of April. I bought her a dress, sent in a baby picture for the slideshow, made sure she was dressed for cap and gown pictures, and until this week, it's just been a list of things to handle so that she had everything she needed when she needed it. But this week, her teacher's daily Ask Me emails changed into things like, "Friday is graduation! I hope that all of your children will still be joining us for school on Monday and Tuesday of next week. If your child will not be returning for those days, please let me know ASAP so that I can make sure I have everything ready for them on their last day. :)"

Yes, that got me. Because it's not just her last day of the year; it will be her last day at preschool. Ever. Then I started thinking about how much fun she's had there, and about the friends that she won't get to see every day anymore, and about how exciting and sad graduation can be. I started paying attention to her solemn but excited attitude when we talked about it, and I realized that this might be her first, truly bittersweet experience - the first crossroads in her life where there is no where to go but forward, and what's ahead is exciting, but leaving what's behind is sad. And all of that is what made me need to cry about preschool graduation, more than the fact that she seems more grown up each day. Ear piercings and fifth birthdays and kindergarten are big milestones, but realizing that you are telling your friends "goodbye" instead of "see you tomorrow" is, I think, more impactful. She does realize this, and I am humbled by her graceful handling of it. She is not the baby I sent there three years ago.




Tonight, I watched her sing her heart out in the serious way that she always performs, I watched her get her certificate, and I watched a slideshow of pictures of all the kids from all their years at Concord and I let the tears run down my cheeks for all the fun, and all the learning, and all the growing up she did there. At the end of it, I handed her the orange roses I bought for her - orange because we read a book once that had picture of a lady in her cap and gown with roses in her arms and Ella told me then that she wanted orange roses when she graduated. She couldn't believe they were for her, and that they were real, and that there were other presents from Grandma and Pop the Pop, and Aunt Becca, and Grandmother and Papa.

She still has two days of school, and I'm glad for that because now that graduation is over, I know that they will be two days full of play with her friends. I hope she has a blast. I hope the last two days are as good as tonight, because she really loved tonight.

I'm pretty sure this is a peek into the future.



P.S. Guess what else? There was vomit. Is any Roper event complete without it? I think not.

Freshly Pierced

We didn't have Ella's ears pierced as a baby because I wanted to wait until she asked for it. I wanted it to be a big deal for her. She started talking about it a couple of years ago, and I've always told her, honestly, that it would hurt a little. She always decided to wait a little longer.

Last weekend, she started talking about it again in earnest, inlcuding a private conversation in her room where I had to talk through the whole procedure and how it would hurt again. That was Friday night, and she decided she wasn't ready. Sunday morning, as I was getting ready for church, I heard her talking to Luke.

"Luke, do you want to know a secret? I'm going to get my ears pierced so I can wear real earrings. Don't you think that will be pretty?" He did, of course. I think it's awesome that he was the first person she told about her decision.

Then, she started hounding me about when she could get it done. She wanted to go Saturday. I told her to chill because I needed to talk to Dave about it and find a place that would pierce a kid. A place that doesn't use a piercing gun.

I had already done my reading on the subject and decided that, when she was ready, I wanted to take her to a professional piercer. I just wasn't comfortable with the gun, and having had piercings done both ways, I believed the needle route would be a better fit for Ella. I thought she would be more comfortable in the privacy of a piercing room than sitting in the middle of a store where everyone could watch, I thought the gun would freak her out, and I liked the sterility of the individually wrapped needles.

The challenge was finding a place that would do it. Some doctors offices offer it, but that would mean taking time off work. I was looking for a tattoo studio. On my third phone call, I found a place that would do it. I called again the next day to talk to the owner, and he was totally nonchalant about it. He had pierced his own daughter's ears when she was three, and from the things he said, I gather he's pierced lots of kids. He told me what kind of earrings to buy and to just stop by when we were ready. He was going to be out of town over the weekend, so we decided to go last night on the way home after gymnastics. Dave met us there so he could witness this milestone, too.

When we got there, we met the owner's five year old daughter and she talked and talked to Ella about her earrings. I handed over the earrings and he checked them out and said they would work perfectly, then he went to set up. He came back to the lobby a few minutes later and led us back to a room that looked very much like a procedure room in a doctor's office except for the occasional sign with profanity or poster of scantily clad, tattooed, and pierced women. In fact when the piercing was over and Ella got down from the chair, Luke piped up to tell the man, "It's my turn. My tummy hurts." He thought we were at a doctor's office.

Little kids amaze me with their acceptance of people. I had already talked to Ella about the fact that we would see lots of tattoos and different kinds of piercings, to which she responded, "Okay." She hasn't said a word about anything she saw there, including the man who did the piercing, who had several tattoos and piercings of his own. Luke hasn't said anything either. Neither of them seem the least bit affected by it.

Ella was a trooper. She made it through both piercings before she cried, just a little, and by the time we got home, she was fine. This morning, she was very happy watching the light bounce off the little gold hearts in her ears while she was getting dressed in front of her mirror.

Freshly Pierced Ears

Time flies and all that...

I registered Ella for kindergarten this morning.

I can't say I was unprepared for this day because I was not unprepared. Just ask Dave; he picked up the blue form from the pediatrician's office a month ago and watched it hang on the fridge for three weeks before he finally asked me the actual date for kindergarten registration. I've been prepared.

I knew it was coming. She's 4.75 years old. She turns 5 on June 25th. She's planning a ballerina birthday party, though she has until April 15th to change her mind on the theme.

I have some misgivings, mostly about how to change our morning routine and what to do about the full-time school week and extracurricular activities, but she's even reassured me about those things. She has decided to quit gymnastics after the spring session is finished; that will remove one of her extracurricular activities. Over the weekend, she asked me when she can have her own alarm clock; that partially answers my other uncertainty.

Mostly, I'm excited for her. Really excited, because she is going to love kindergarten. She is definitely ready - in all kinds of ways. And so am I, really.

But sometimes - sometimes, I have to flip through the pictures, re-read the blog posts, and remember when she was like this.

When she fit into the Johnny Jump.

When clapping was new.

When she still had to hold on to stand.

When her hair was barely long enough for a ponytail.

Because it's bittersweet - the passage of time, the business of life, the mothering and fathering of children. It's bittersweet.

When Ella was Lost

It took 4.75 years for me to lose one of them, but I finally did. It was quite a feat, considering that the one I lost is the one I would have voted Most Likely to Never Be Separated from Mommy.

Luke? He'd be easy to lose. Unleashing that child requires constant vigilance. Ella? Well, let's just say there's a reason I recently spilled hot tea on her head, and it's not because I'm careless in the kitchen. She is the Moon to my Earth. Blessedly, the gravitational pull has relaxed quite a bit over the last couple of years, but I still don't have to worry about her wandering too far ahead of me in public places. Half the time I have to force the child to go into the bathroom stall without me while I stand directly on the other side and wait for her. She just doesn't wander freely in public. Blessedly.

We went on a play date to the zoo over the weekend with another mom and her little girls. The other girls went into the lorikeet exhibit to feed the birds, and Ella decided to try it, too. She followed them in and their mom helped her by holding a bird on her hand while it drank out of Ella's nectar cup. Luke accompanied us to the zoo, but he could not abide any lorikeets that day. I had to take him out of there, so I told Ella to stay with her friends' mom because I was going to take Luke outside to wait. She agreed and I left through the Exit door, on the opposite side of the exhibit.

Luke and I waited and watched, and we finally saw the mom and two girls come out to wash their hands, but no Ella. I asked where she was and the mom told me that she got scared when one of the birds landed on her and she decided to leave the exhibit.

Immediately, I knew that she had gone back in the Entrance door and into the little store, and that she must be freaking out because she didn't find me there. I hurried Luke around the building as quickly as one can hurry a meandering toddler, and poked my head in the door just as one of zoo employees was telling another employee, "This is Ella and her mom is lost." I said, "I'm Ella's mom!" The employee asked Ella if I was, and let her come to me when she confirmed. She was very upset.

We stepped to the side and I knelt down in front of her to hug her and let her cry. When she calmed down I said, "A bird landed on you and you got scared." She nodded. "You went back inside and couldn't find me." She nodded. "You thought I was lost and told the lady who works here." She nodded. "You were really scared." She nodded. I hugged her harder and promised her I had not left her; I was just waiting at the other door. She took a deep breath, a drink of water, and she was ready to continue her play date.

As I was telling Dave about it later, I realized how very proud I was of her handling of the situation. She and I talked about it again that evening and she told me that when she realized I wasn't in the store, she found the lady who worked there and told her her name and that she had lost her mom. She said the lady told her her name, too. I reiterated that she did exactly what she was supposed to do in that kind of situation and that I was very proud of her. 

She was never really lost, but she absolutely thought she was and for a few brief moments between realizing what had happened and seeing her with my own eyes, I had The Fear. I'm so glad she remembered all of the instructions we've given her in case she gets separated from us.

Chore Charts are Changing Our Lives

Ella has been helping me with chores around the house since she was about 18 months old, but in the last year she's become really capable of doing some things without assistance. She can clean up her room, make her bed, sort her dirty laundry, put away the clean laundry, get herself dressed, brush her own teeth, use the bathroom, clear her plate from the table, etc. As she's become more capable, my expectations of her pulling her weight in our family have increased. I believe that every member of our family should contribute to the work that keeps our house neat and peaceful. Once they become able to pick up their socks off the floor and put them in the laundry basket, it's no longer my job. I still help them with these things as they are learning, of course, but I fully expect that they will do these things themselves as they get older. As members of our family, they have a responsibility to contribute to the upkeep of our house.

Ella is usually very willing to do things herself and quite helpful around the house. However, the morning rush to get her out the door had become very tedious, regularly breaking down into negative interactions for both of us. The Barbie mess on her bedroom floor had gotten completely out of control. The amount of nagging I've been doing lately is ridiculous, and she doesn't respond well to it (does anyone?). She doesn't like to be told what to do and I don't like stepping on Barbie junk and verbally dragging her through the morning routine. The more I tell her to put her shoes on, the longer she resists. She's just like her parents in that way. 

I stewed over how to solve this problem in a way that works for both of us. I need her to get up and dressed in the mornings without me nagging. I need her to straighten her room so that we can walk in there (and make it more inviting to be in there, or even have the door open). She needs autonomy - specifically, space and time to do the things that are expected of her without me hovering.

I had a chat with her so that we could problem solve together. We agreed that I would wake her up more gently by lying down and talking to her for a few minutes while she wakes up, and she would pick out her clothes the night before so they are ready and waiting to be put on in the mornings. That improved things quite a bit, but it didn't address the messy room.

After sending her in to clean up her room, then sending her in to try again, I locked her out of the room Sunday afternoon and cleaned it myself. I realized that the mess had become overwhelming for her. She really didn't know where to start cleaning it up. She had done most of what I asked, but the Barbie's were still partying all over the place - making it feel so much messier than it actually was. While I cleaned, I thought. (Because what else is there to do while you clean?) Then the solution hit me. She needed a list.

Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake, ya'll. She'd been telling me she needs a list since the one time I made her one when I needed her to do some things on the weekend and I didn't want her to stop playing to do it right then. She told me last week when she was so proud of herself for filling up her sticker chart at school because she did all of her jobs without being told. She needed a list of jobs at home.

I finished cleaning her room and I made two lists for her and taped them on her bedroom wall. (How do you make a list for a kid that can't read? With pictures. Her lists have the words and the pictures because I intend for them to stay on the wall for a while and she's learning to read.) I didn't say anything to her about them, I just waited until she found them. When she did, I explained that they are her lists of jobs to do each morning when she gets up and each evening before bed. I read them to her so she would know what they said (and be able to translate my pitiful drawing).

The child was so stinking excited about her lists that she has already made me amend them to add additional tasks. The lists have been up for three days now, and life has been so much easier. The room has stayed cleaner, she's getting up without a fight, and getting ready before it's time to leave. While I fully expect that some days will be better than others and sometimes I'll revert back to nagging her through the morning routine, I'm hoping that we can make this a lasting change in our house.

These are Ella's lists.

Morning Jobs
1. Make your bed.
2. Get dressed.
3. Put on your socks and shoes.
4. Use the potty.
5. Brush your hair. (her addition)

Bedtime Jobs
1. Put your shoes in the rack.
2. Put away the Barbies and their stuff.
3. Put away other toys and books.
4. Take your dirty clothes to the laundry room.
5. Pick out your clothes for tomorrow.
6. Take your medicine. (her addition)
7. Brush your teeth and potty. (her addition)

Will it work for Luke? I have no idea, but he is very interested in her lists. He might demand that I make him a list, too.

Day 10 - Under

This is how I find Ella when I wake her up in the mornings. She has always loved to bury herself under the blankets. That little pink bear face belongs to Emily, the bear she built in Gatlinburg. Emily has an official title and a very important job: Bumble Bee Snapper. She protects Ella from the bumble bees that buzz her while she's sleeping.



Ella's Nest



My child has an irrational fear of bees. She also has a history of vivid, anxiety producing dreams about things getting in her bed with her. The latest is bumble bees. One night last week, she woke me up telling me, "The bumble bee buzzing sounds just distract-es me while I'm sweeping." I made her use the bathroom, because a full bladder makes the dreams even worse, and tucked her back into the bed with Emily. I told her that Emily likes to snap bumble bees and she would protect her until morning. The next morning when I asked if any more bees bothered her, she said, "No, Emily just ate them all." Now she gets tucked in beside Ella with her own special blanket every night.

You can't see her, but on the side next to the wall, the baby Maggie Beth is sleeping. She also has her own blankets to sleep in under the big blanket. Getting the three of them situated for bed every night is no quick task.

Then morning comes and we start the process of getting them out of bed. Unless it's the weekend, they don't like to get up. It's quite a process. This is the intermediate step: wallowing on the rug with Sniffy, the pink, shiny blanket (who also gets tucked into bed with her).

"I'm up!" she insists. I disagree.

Eventually, she does get dressed, usually while I'm loading up the car to leave.

And, that picture of her on the rug with Sniffy threw me into a time warp because it reminded me of this picture.

3 month-old Ella hiding from the morning light.

That's her, buried under Sniffy (pre-naming) when she was still sleeping in the co-sleeper beside my bed. She pulled the blankets over her head when I turned on the light to wake her up. She's much bigger now, but some things never change.

A Paradigm Shift

There's been a paradigm shift in my house. The child who has always been challenging is less so, and the child who has always been easy is not right now.

I was quite surprised recently when I discovered how very easy it is to have 4 year old Ella around the house when Luke isn't there. He spent the night at Grandmother's by himself for the first time ever, and Ella was home with us. It was so easy! I was so amazed that I told my sister and her response was, "Duh. I've been knowing she is the easier one right now for a while."

Of course she has. She's had the Luke-free evening experience with her a few times when Ella spent the night at her house. Until just a few weeks ago, I had not had an evening with just Ella in the house since before Luke was born. My how she's changed since then! She played by herself in her room until supper, ate, showered, read books with me, and went to bed. It was quiet. There was no yelling. She's almost entirely self-sufficient.

When did this happen?

Apparently while we've been wrangling the wild beast that is the most recent version of her brother.

Since turning two, he has fully embraced The Tantrum Phase of Independence. But you know the story, right? He wants to do everything by himself, he thinks he can do everything by himself, but he really can't yet. "No!" means no, except when it means yes - and that is often because "No!" is the default answer to everything. He wants to make his own decisions by himself, but he makes them so impulsively, they're often wrong. And who's fault is that? Mine. Because of course I should know that when he picked the Piglet cup he really wanted the Pluto one.

He's defnitely in that place where he needs lots of time and space to practice his independence. Dave and I are in the midst of a refresher course on the intricacies of toddlerhood - distractions and redirections and choices and transitions and time-ins.

He is a sweet, funny, loving, enthusiastic little spirit trapped in a frustrated toddler mind and body. It's rough on him. It's rough on us.

He wants so badly to play soccer, on the team, with the other kids. He tells me about it all the time. "I wanna play socter." He's too young; he can't play until he's 3. For a whole year, he'll be too young.

He wants to get on the balance beam and race across it by himself like the older kids. While he's physically capable of running on a 4 inch beam, he isn't mentally focused enough to do that yet.

He wants to tell us when he's feeling really mad or slighted, but he lacks the self-discipline to do that with his words.

His will is strong and his intent is generally good, but he is limited by his own development. His physical and emotional maturity will catch up with his will eventually, but until then, we have our work cut out for us. At the end of it, we'll have another confident, self-sufficient four year old. But you know what  they say about sausage - it's good, but you don't want to watch the making of it. Toddlerhood is the sausage-making of a four year old, and it's not for the faint of heart.

Riding with Ella

One morning when Ella and I were alone in the car on the way to a doctor's appointment downtown, she reminded me to stop and look at the world around me.

As we drove through the UAB campus, she asked me about the buildings and why the dragon on the signs has fire coming from his mouth. I explained that UAB is a college, like Montevallo, and that the dragon is their mascot and he breathes fire out of his mouth because they are called the UAB Blazers. Then she asked me, "Mama, do they have a real dragon in there?" I assured her, "No, they do not, but they do have a medical school and a dental school, where people go to learn to be doctors and dentists." That day, she wanted to be a doctor.

Interjection: On a different day, we saw my recently-graduated pharmacist cousin working in the pharmacy at Publix. On the way home, she asked me a bunch of questions about what my cousin does at Publix, and then she made a little moaning noise. I asked her what was wrong and she responded, "It makes me want to be a pharmacist." Right on.

Back to our trek through Southside: As we were passing by the appartments on University Boulevard where there is a mural painted on the retaining wall, we had this conversation.

Ella: Someone painted that wall, Mama!
Me: (Mistaking her excitement for indignation and preparing to explain) Yes, they did -
Ella: It's so beautiful!

Oh. Yes.

It is beautiful, with animals and children playing; color breaking up the gray of the city street. So many things are beautiful, so many things that I pass right by without even noticing. So many things that my four year old does notice. That same day, she pointed out some really pretty flowers planted alongside highway 280.

I never know what she is going to see that I would ordinarily miss. I love riding in the car and listening to her while she watches the world go by. She asks good questions and points out things that I take for granted. I learn so much.

Four year old eyes have such a fresh perspective of the world.

Ella's New Hair

For a couple of months now, Ella has been talking about getting her hair cut to shoulder length. She even picked this picture out of a magazine. I took a picture of it, mostly to appease her, and so that we'd have it in case we decided to get her hair cut.

This is the hair Ella wanted.

Dave and I talked about it and decided we weren't ready to get her hair cut yet. (Yes, we seem to have an issue with cutting our children's hair.) I talked to Ella about it and told her I wasn't ready yet and that if we cut it, we couldn't do the fun things with it that she likes to do - like pigtail balls and braids. She was okay with that but she kept talking about it anyway.

Meanwhile, I kept happening accross the picture in my phone and it struck me how very perfect the cut would be for Ella's hair. It amazes me sometimes how well the child knows herself. A couple of months passed and I started feeling okay with the haircut idea. I know all that hair is hot for soccer and gymnastics. We spend a lot of time untangling it, even with conditioner and detangling spray. I started thinking that maybe we should just let her get it cut.

Saturday morning while we were watching them play, the topic came up again when I commented that it was time for her to have a trim. I showed Dave the haircut she wanted again. He was okay with it, too, so he asked if she wanted to get it cut. Of course she did!

Her hair was past her arm pits when it was dry and about halfway down her back when wet. It varies from straight and full to ringlets, depending on the weather. This day, it was somewhere in between the two.

Before the haircut.

The lady cut about four inches off and layered it. She was quite impressed with the haircut Ella picked out.


This picture doesn't do justice to the amount of curl she has.

Despite the expression in this picture, she absolutely loves it. In addition to this being her first real haircut, it was also the first time she got really irritated at me for acting like a complete Mom and taking too many pictures. That's what you see on her sweet face. Irritation.

She was so over me taking pictures at this point.

With the weight off, her hair is even curlier now than it was before. It's spunky and sassy and it fits her perfectly. It was fun to watch her relish it all weekend. A few times I caught her lifting her face to the wind savoring the way her hair blew off her neck. She was excited to have her "new hair" washed the first time and it's been so easy to brush.

We got two important life lessons out of it.
1. On the way into church Sunday morning, neither of the men who were standing outside to greet us commented on it. As we walked to her class, she said, "They didn't understand about my new hair." I reassured her, "It's okay, most of the time boys just don't recognize when you have new hair."

2. While I cuddled her in bed Saturday night, I told her that I thought she picked out a great haircut that was perfect for her kind of hair. She said, "But I still don't have the eyes." I asked what she meant. "The eyes like the lady in the picture." I told her it didn't matter that she didn't have the lady's eyes because she has her own - the eyes God gave her that make her special. It fit perfectly with her Bible verse from last week.

"I am wonderfully made."  - Psalm 139:14

One More Artifact

I had been looking for this at Nana's house and Dave just found it in a box.

Last Thanksgiving, we had breakfast with Nana and Ella said the blessing for us. In our house, we call the blessing "the ABCs"; you can see why below. Ella learned this at preschool and taught it to Nana  that day. She was so excited about it that she wrote it down and asked Ella to write her name on the paper.

Ella's Blessing

This was during Ella's Fancy E phase. These days, she usually opts for a simple E and she usually writes from left to right.

We Are Not Vegetarians

Not that it was a secret, but Ella made it quite clear during our conversation on the way home yesterday that we are not vegetarians.

While we are driving, we point out all the things we see. Luke sees lots of big trucks and boats these days. Ella sees everything. As we passed by a yard with a donkey grazing beside the road, I pointed it out to her. She saw it and thought about it for a minute or two before she asked, "Mama, what kind of food does donkey food make?" 

It gave me pause. I tuned into my internal Preschooler Language Manual and desconstructed her question until I came up with this: "Do you mean "donkey food" like bacon comes from pigs?"

Ella: Yes.

Score! I guessed correctly.

Me: They just make donkey meat. We don't really eat donkeys.
Ella: Why not?
Me: Well, there are some animals we raise for food, like pigs and cows and chicken, and some animals that have jobs to do, like horses and donkeys that are for riding or pulling loads, and some animals we hunt for food, like deer and turkey.
Ella: Oh.
Me: I guess you could eat donkey meat if you were starving and there wasn't any other food, but generally we don't eat donkey.
Ella: But can you buy donkey at the store?
Me: No.

And thank goodness because I would probably have to learn how to cook it.

"On my birthday I'll be four. When will I be 2 again?"



4 Year Old Ella

Though she is still trying to wrap her mind around the thought that she will only get older, never younger, Ella is four years old today. My reserved, anxious, headstrong baby has grown into a socially confident little girl. She is still headstrong but she can't help it - everyone in my house is and we respect that.

For her party over the weekend, we treated our friends and family to our favorite summer pasttime: front yard swimming. (Truly, we'd love for it to be backyard swimming, but our backyard is more suitable as a parking lot, unless you prefer swimming in mud. I don't - especially when the floors are clean. One day - one day - there will be grass back there. I just know it.) She could barely contain her excitement from the time she woke up (at 7:30) until party time. She'd been planning her party for a month and a half and she was ready for everyone to be there at 8.

Four year old Ella finally sleeps through the night consistently (meaning all the time unless she's sick). This started about six months ago and she's been doing it long enough now that I've stopped expecting her to wake up during the night. It's fabulous. In addition to sleeping through the night, she often falls asleep in her own bed by herself while I'm getting Luke to sleep for the night. That just started happening in the last two months. Sometimes she's still awake and I cuddle her, but lots of times she's already asleep when I peek in there.

She has a few chores to do around the house and she gets very upset if she misses the opportunity to do them (because sometimes I forget that they are her chores now and do them first). She is in charge of feeding Georgia and Gypsy, keeping her shoes put away in her shoe rack, and clearing her plate from the table. Sometimes she gives Luke his medicine when he refuses to take it from me. If she finds me folding laundry, she asks to fold the wash rags and socks. She helps me cook and I've taught her how to use a knife (yes, a real one) to cut vegetables. We recently made homemade pizza, and she did 90% of the work, under my direction.

She is still doing gymnastics once a week and she's already talking about playing soccer again in the fall. Just as the spring season was ending, she was really gaining her confidence during the games, so I'm glad she wants to give that another try.

She loves playdates and recently went on her first one without me or Grandmother going along. Her friend from Florida was in town to visit her grandmother and they went to the local petting farm and out to lunch. While I nearly had a coronary about her going without us, she jumped at the chance to play with another little girl without her brother around.

She still loves to teach school and gymnastics and take care of babies but now she also likes to play Barbies and doctor her dolls and stuffed animals. Sometimes she works on their teeth, too. She tells us she wants be a cheerleading dentist when she grows up.

She is infinitely curious about everything from human anatomy to the reason septic tanks are smelly. I'm constantly amazed with what she observes and the questions she asks. She still loves to be read to and now she likes to spell the words that she sees (on flashcards, signs, anywhere, really). She's starting to learn basic addition, though she doesn't know that yet. She loves Sunday school and learning about God and she regularly prays or asks me to pray for our family and/or a whole list of others that she's thinking about.

She has a sweet, sweet heart and she is starting to understand that she has responsibilities as a member of our family. I am amazed at how fast she's changing and I love to watch her grow.

Edited to include a better picture.

Ella's Bad News

Backstory: Luke has taken a lovin' to riding in our red wagon. He's very cutely insistent when he decides he needs a ride, climbing into his seat and asking me, "Ready?" When he asked for a ride yesterday before Dave got home, I had to decide if I had the energy to pull them both. Ella wasn't feeling well enough to make her walk, and though she wanted to stay home by herself, I obviously couldn't do that. I decided, "What the hey? It's a good butt and thigh work out." So I loaded them up, leashed the dog to the wagon (because I make her help) and proceeded to pull 85 lbs of kids plus wagon around the neighborhood. When we'd gotten about 1/3 of the way around our route I was working too hard to carry on a conversation with Ella, and she really felt too bad to have much conversation. However, when we rolled alongside a squished, dead squirrel she immediately piped up with, "Mama, what's that?!" I huffed out a short, "Dead squirrel," and continued on.

Fast forward to this morning's drop off at Grandmother's house where this conversation happened.

Ella: Grandmother! I have some bad news.
Grandmother: You do?
Ella: Yes, we went for a walk yesterday and there was a dead squirrel.
Grandmother: There was?
Ella: But it's okay because there are more squirrels. Like one hundred.

I guess squirrels are disposable.

It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Breaks a Nose

It's not broken, but we thought it might be for a few minutes.

We were all assembled in a circle for game time in Grandmother's living room last night - criss-cross applesauce, hands in our lap, mouths closed, eyes watching, ears listening. Shoes to the side. Ella was giving instructions.

Luke was wearing her purple Tinkerbell crocs and jumping like they were jet-powered moon shoes. Over and over again. Landing hard on his butt/back every time. Ella was slightly put out that he would not follow her instructions and sit quietly.

When it was time for our water party, we needed a slide. There was some discussion of using the little plastic slide as the water slide or - we could just use Mommy. Naturally, because I was on the floor, Luke started climbing me. Immediately the game changed.

No longer were we sitting quietly in our circle. The wanted to play Mommy Mule. (That's our version of riding a horse where I try to buck them off while they count loudly and laugh hysterically. It really should be called Mommy Bull Riding.) Because I was sitting criss-cross applesauce with my hands in my lap, I wasn't prepared for giving Mule rides, so I just flipped Luke over my shoulder instead.

The game was on.

Ella lined up for her turn, climbed on my back and I flipped her.

She's too tall for that game.

She landed on her nose.

It was dramatic. I felt horrible. She cried until she managed to choke up a little vomit. I held her and tried to convince her to breathe.

When she finally calmed down a little, Aunt Becca said, "Is it turning blue?" It was. We iced it and gave her a cold rag to wipe her face - and because cold rags make everything better. It wasn't crooked or bumpy, so I knew it wasn't broken.

It was a little swollen but no longer blue when I left her at Grandmother's house to spend the night. (A plan she had already put in place before I almost broke her nose). When I came back a few minutes later to drop off her pajamas, she was running back and forth accross the living room so that Papa could catch her and trap her in his arms so she could use her super strength to break free. The nose was forgotten.

This morning, it looked fine. I was certain she would have two black eyes, but they looked normal.

We play hard around here. Sometimes we get hurt. Then we count teeth, clean up the vomit, and play some more.

Around the House

I don't have a full post in my head right now, but I have compiled a list of quotes from around our house. Some of these go back several weeks.

"I'm gonna eat lunch at Grandma's... I don't know who Aunt Tricia's people are." - Ella, in response to the news that Aunt Tricia was bringing us lunch from the Christ Table ministry at her church the day after Dave came home from the hospital. And no, we don't generally talk in terms of someone's "people," so I have no idea where that came from.

Through the baby monitor, in the middle of the night, I heard Luke saying, "No-no. No-no." I went in to check on him and found that Ella had rolled over and snaked her arms around his so that he couldn't get away. Sometimes she sleeps in his bed if she falls asleep before he does on nights when I do bedtime for both of them.

"Mommy, will you just brush my teeth for me tonight? Because I have a wedding tomorrow." - Ella, at toothbrushing time Saturday night. I guess teeth need to be Mommy Clean for weddings? We did not actually attend a wedding, so this is a good example of our combination life - half real and half Ella's alternate reality. It's hard to keep it straight sometimes.

I did bedtime for both of them last night, so we were cuddled into Luke's bed. Ella was telling me all about their trip to the zoo that afternoon with Grandma and Pop the Pop. In the middle of it, Luke leaned over me and said, "Mama. Boo. Chicks. Baaak, baaak, baaak (chicken noises)."
Me: "You went to the zoo and saw chickens?"
He smiled.
Me: What else did you see?
Luke: Baby!
Me: A baby gorilla?
He smiled again.

I love that he's participating in the conversation now.

And for fun, another photo comparison of my offspring that do not look like me.

Ella at 21 months, after her tonsil/adenoid/tube surgery.

Luke at 20 months, after his tube/adenoid surgery.

That juice cup he's holding? That was a serious situation. After fasting for 16 hours, he was thirsty. The nurse told us he woke up from the anesthesia reaching for the cup. Not a single tear, just reaching for the cup. He drank 16 ounces in the hour or so we waited to go home, and another 4 on the way. Withholding his "ju-ju" was by far the hardest part of his surgery experience.

The Sick One Speaks

Dave wrote this for us and he said it all so much better than I would have. Enjoy!

I have had many opportunities to count my blessings during the past few weeks. Strangely, I did not have to look very hard to find an overwhelming number of blessings, even while confined to a hospital, connected to various tubes and devices, recovering from surgery digesting the news that I had cancer and violently hiccupping.

I thanked God over and over and over again for the blessings as they came to mind. Among them were the many friends, relatives, church members and even a few people I did not know who visited me in the hospital. There was also my amazing wife and a new appreciation I gained for her love and devotion to me during the whole experience. I made a vow to stay with her through sickness and health eight years ago. She made the same vow to me. I learned what that meant during my hospital stay. She. Would. Not. Leave. Me. Thank God. I am extremely blessed to have such a dedicated partner and I am better for having learned of her dedication that I so very often take for granted.

Perhaps the thing I am most thankful for is that I have this cancer and not any other member of my household. I cannot imagine myself in Amanda’s role as caretaker and supporter. I had the easy part of all of this. I was told I have a disease, cut open, stitched back together and told to get lots of rest. Amanda was the one left to sit in hospital waiting rooms, call the family together, talk to the doctors, fill me in on things I missed while under the influence of heavy narcotics and sit by my side at the hospital for days on end all while worrying about our two children and wondering what the future would bring for our family. Once at home, Amanda shouldered the large majority of the household chores for several days, kept the kids fed, bathed and entertained and made sure I was properly encouraged, medicated and attended to while I laid around the house, watched television and slept. She has had the hard part of all of this and I am extremely blessed that I am the one who is “sick” because I don’t think I could have handled things if it was Amanda.

But I would have. Somehow and some way, I could have dealt with Amanda being sick. I would in no way have been the champion that she has been to me, but I would have muddled through, with much more help from family and friends than she required, and survived.

The thought I cannot imagine is that of Ella or Luke being diagnosed with cancer and forced to undergo medical treatment and hospitalization. This is the greatest blessing I have encountered through my experiences of the past four weeks. I thank God multiple times each day that I am the one with the illness and not my children. I can deal with pain, surgery, giving blood and bone marrow, taking treatments and whatever else may come my way. Let me hurt every day the rest of my life if I don’t have to see pain, hurt and fear on the faces of my two precious babies. Thank you God that they are well. I don’t know how I would make it if they were not.

But many parents do. There are many who have to experience their children being diagnosed with cancer and watch them endure the pains and fears associated with the treatments and the disease itself each and every day. And they are all much stronger than I ever want to become.

Last year we participated in a Trike-a-Thon through Ella’s school to raise money for St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. We enjoyed the experience and Ella had a great time on her tricycle. We were amazed at the generosity of our family and friends in donating to this cause. Amanda asked today if we should participate in raising money for the event again this year, considering all that we have going on in our lives right now and all of the assistance we have already received during the past month. We absolutely should and will. We have the tremendous blessing of not having to know what the families serviced by St. Jude live through on a daily basis. The least we can do is contribute to the cause. Thank you God that my kids are healthy and well. I don’t know how I would make it if they were not.

So, as we did last year, we have again set up a fundraising page for Ella’s Trike-A-Thon and would appreciate any contributions you would like to make: EGR's Trike-a-thon page. Thank you for the prayers and support you have given me during the past days. I am going to be fine. I am blessed beyond all imagination and I feel that we should do what we can to pass it along.

As always, please only give as your heart moves. If this doesn't interest you, please do not feel obligated to donate. The Trike-a-thon takes place on April 13th, so we have until then to see how much money we can raise. Thanks in advance!

Quotable Ella 2011

I have not had time to write here lately; and I'll be honest, I haven't felt very inspired either. I guess reading, revising, writing, and re-revising 800 pages of instructional documentation in 9 days time - you know, my real job - was enough to stifle me for a while. I've started a post twice this week, but I haven't written more than 3 sentences. Then I remembered that I went through all of my Facebook statuses at the end of last year and pulled out the ones with quotes from Ella with the intention of posting them here (because this is my documentation of her life, a virtual baby book, if you will). So, that's what this is, a compilation Ella's Facebook quotes for 2011. Enjoy!


"It will improve us." - Ella, in response to my comment that a little Mickey Mouse is in order. Snack and Mickey = quiet time. Amen.


This morning, while searching the fridge for breakfast, Ella told me, "But not brussel sprouts." Indeed. Not for breakfast. (Though she would probably eat them if I put them on her plate. Luke would.)

"I don't like my brother. I'm jealous of him." - Ella, 3 years old. She's also very honest.

"Roll the dough, roll the dough! Put the baby in the oven..." That's where she stopped, realizing something wasn't quite right. Happy Friday, from Katie Ella Grace.

This morning, Ella told me, "Mom, he's eating crayons!" Indeed, Luke toddled into the bathroom where I was brushing my teeth and there was orange crayon foam all over his mouth and shirt. I cleaned him up, but there were still crayon bits stuck in his front teeth.

As Ella climbed into her carseat last night, she put Luke's beaded teething ring on her head and said, "I'm a drama queen." As usual, she speaks the truth.

On the way to Chick-fil-a with the kids again this morning, Ella was telling me how much she loves chicken and that she is going to turn into a chicken because she eats so much of it. Then she said, "But I just leave the bones because I don't want to be a bone." I concur.

Tonight was one of those nights that I had to coerce Ella into brushing her teeth. I said, "Open your mouth and let me brush those shark teeth." She said, "They're realwy big. You might not want to see them." It was a nice try.

Last night, just as we were sitting down at the supper table, Ella "answered" her cell phone. I jumped right in with, "Um, no, we don't talk on the phone at the table. Please hang up now." She said goodbye and set the phone down next to her plate. Then she reached for it again, and Dave immediately said, "No texting either." I thought we were going to have to confiscate her phone. She's 3. Almost.

Every night after bath time, Ella serves me tea and cake while I nurse Luke to sleep. Every night she tells me, "I'm a mattress." She means "waitress".

After missing a day of school because of a virus, Ella made a grand entrance to her classroom yesterday with this announcement: "I'm not sick anymore - I'M BACK!" And she told me last night she does not want to have Spring Break because she will miss her friends.

Ella did not want to give away her Valentines at school today. She told me she thought she was "going to have a bad day about it." I told her to dig down deep inside and find her good day. Her response: "It's taking a nap." Well, then.

This, too, shall pass… This, too, shall pass

Today marks day 4 of Ella’s execution of Operation Sleep Deprivation, Fall 2011 Edition. Seriously, is she observing the 1 year anniversary of her brother’s newborn weeks for us?


If you have a sleepless infant, stop reading now. Seriously. This isn’t going to be encouraging for you.

She’s 3. Except for a few brief weeks when she was 3 months old, she has been a notoriously horrible sleeper. She was 2 before she started sleeping through the night at all. She was 3 before she was doing it with any sort of consistency, and by “consistency” I mean a few nights a week – not all of them.

You know what is consistent? A few things.

• Sunday nights. She is going to wake up at least twice on Sunday night. Is it because the weekend has a different routine than the weekdays? Is it because she’s had 2 days with me and she knows we go back to Grandmother’s/work on Monday? Probably both things.
• Exhaustion. The more tired she is, the worse she sleeps. It takes longer to get her to sleep and she wakes up over and over, usually with nightmares about things in her bed. It is very hard to break this cycle, and it leads to whining (which feels like it sucks the life force right out of me every time I hear that grating voice).
• Milestones. Her milestones, seen and unseen, have always been a source of nightwaking and now it seems that Luke’s milestones are also a source of nightwaking – for her. I can mark on the calendar when she’s going to have a rough couple of weeks of sleep – December and June, her birthday and half-birthday months. Sometimes, we even get some quarterly disturbance in March and October, though, blessedly, these phases have lessened as she’s gotten older.
• Change. Vacation, the start of school, new sibling, new cousin, rearranging of furniture – all of these things disrupt her sleep. When we rearranged her bedroom to fit more furniture in there for Luke, her sleep was disturbed for a week.
• Illness. This one is obvious and expected, but still, consistent.

Why am I writing this? I don’t know.

  

Maybe because I’m completely frustrated in my exhausted state because it’s been so much better lately and now we are back to a pattern that resembles that awful period when she was a teething, six-month-old and I swore I would never bring another baby into this world. It’s even harder on me when the disruption happens after a long period of magical, good sleep. It’s a hard expectation to reset, that one about getting 2 consecutive hours of uninterrupted sleep at a time.

  

Maybe because despite what everyone would have you believe about their perfect little babies sleeping through the night from day one, I know that’s not true for most people and I want you to know that you aren’t alone if you have a bad sleeper.

  

I’m telling myself again, “This, too, shall pass, this, too, shall pass.” It’s my mantra in times like this, times when I understand why sleep deprivation is a method of torture for prisoners of war. In a day or two, it will start to improve and we’ll get back on track for a while. Maybe I’ll figure out what caused this most recent disruption, you know, if she starts solving algebraic equations with her M&Ms at supper or something.

 

So, parents of non-sleepers, know that you aren’t alone and it will get better. Eventually.

Reconciliation: When You Break the Rules

I posted the other day about our rules for fighting, and then I went home that night and broke rule number 1: Be respectful.

It was bedtime. I could hardly hold my eyes open. Dave had already retired to the couch and crashed, after giving up in the middle of a reading of The Berenstein Bears Go Out to Eat. Ella was still flopping all over the bed. I tried all my usual tricks of getting her to calm down and be still, but she was persistent. I even tried just going to sleep while she wiggled, but she has an annoying habit of waiting just long enough for me to doze off and then asking for water, needing to potty, covering my mouth and nose with her hand so that I snort awake dramatically. You get the idea.

I finally lost it and snapped at her. I can’t tell you my words; I just know the tone was U.G.L.Y. What was even uglier was her reaction. She hunkered down into her pillow with her blanket up to her ears and whimpered.

Now, while quiet, still, and calm was the end I was going for, neither of us liked the means to get there.

I laid there for a few minutes, enjoying the peace, and feeling like the speck on top of chicken poo. I could feel her feeling like that, too, and I knew I had to fix it.

I leaned over and whispered, “I’m sorry I talked to you in my rough voice. I love you.”

She said, “Mommy, next time, at bed time, can you just use your regular voice?”

And, so here I am again, in this place where I publicly wander through parenthood, trying not to screw up my children, with the reminder that even when you break the rules, you can still make it right.

Conflict doesn’t have to be THE END of a relationship; it’s a crossroads where decisions are made and growth happens. Sometimes it sucks deep and wide to admit your shortcomings and apologize for something you did or said (or didn’t do or say), but it’s the next step, the thing you have to do to move forward.

And, you know what else? Following those rules takes practice. Lots of it, especially with those who really know how to push all the right buttons and raise your blood pressure – you know, the people you love most. But they are the most important ones, see? Love for someone isn’t a free pass for behaving like a donkey’s behind and then pretending like it never happened. Just because that person will probably forgive you in their next breath, doesn’t mean you don’t owe them some follow through - an acknowledgement of your bad behavior and an apology.

So, despite the fact that – no, because she’s an adult-in-training, I apologized for my bad behavior. She needs to see me mess up, and she needs to see me make it right. How else will she learn?