When The Cat's Away...

...the mice will play.

Chip went to Orlando a little over a week ago for a conference. The kids (especially Abby) had a hard time saying goodbye. To take their minds off his absence, I tried to be a little more "fun" and do things a little out of the ordinary.

Like an early morning breakfast at McDonald's, complete with a little playing at the indoor playground, of course.

 

 

After breakfast the kids went to school, and Abby happily said, "This is the best day ever ... except for taking Daddy to the airport."

 

About two weeks ago, Chip set up a tent in the back yard, with the intent of camping overnight with the kids. For whatever reason, it never panned out. So I came up with the "fun" idea of taking the kids - all three of them - back yard camping myself.

 

I wanted to make this as exciting as possible, so I decided to pop some popcorn and have us eat it on the porch before retiring for the evening.



Abby, using her "telescope."

At this point it was 8:30 and about 51 degrees. I was chilly, but the kids were too excited to notice. Despite my best efforts to delay bedtime (because I knew once we were in the tent, I was there to stay), Abby and William were ready to go to bed. So we piled in the tent.

You can't really tell, but there were LAYERS of blankets on these kids.

Mommy's spot was on the far left.
 

"This isn't so bad," I thought, 30 minutes into our adventure. By this point, Abby and William were asleep. Miraculous! Maddie took a little longer. After about an hour of tossing and turning and possibly wondering what in the world was going on, our littlest camper dozed off.

It was almost 10. My nose was frozen. I checked my phone, and it said the temp was 49. After checking on all three kids for the umpteenth time, I decided they were probably warm enough, but one more blanket wouldn't hurt.

Trying not to wake the kids, I quietly unzipped only the lower portion of the tent and (quite literally) slithered out through the small slit. I laughed out loud at the sight it must have been. Oh well. This'll give the neighbors even more to talk about, I snickered.

On my way in the house, I noticed a strange odor. After a little investigating (i.e. sniffing myself), I noticed the odor was on me. I smelled of urine. Then it dawned on me that during my sleeping bag allocation, I somehow overlooked the fact that I had allotted William's sleeping bag as mine. The bag, I might add, that he sleeps in at night when he comes into my bedroom. The bag that he has pee-peed in on more than one occasion...

I added a comforter to the mounting pile of bedding, and despite its large size, it didn't quite reach Mommy's side of the tent. I made the most of it, and snuggled extra close to Maddie.

I must have dozed off, because the next time I checked my phone, it was 11:15. Forty-eight degrees. Hmph. I was cold. My head hurt. I was wide awake. And I smelled of pee.

So I lie there shivering. And then this happened:

Maddie, wide awake, at midnight.

There was no getting Maddie to go back to sleep. When she started messing with Abby, I knew it was time to throw in the towel. Begrudgingly (and somewhat relieved), I woke William and Abby and told them it was time to go inside.

After LOTS of tears (theirs, not mine), I finally got everyone in bed. I think I fell asleep about 2 a.m.

We certainly wished Daddy could have been there to join in the fun. But before he returned, we decided to do something nice for Chip. We washed his car...

 

Poor Chip. That'll teach him to leave town, won't it?

Celebrating Like a Champ

Like a national champ, that is.

I decided to try my hand at making Chip's birthday cake this year, and I settled on an Alabama theme. Chip seemed to appreciate my effort, especially since I'm an Auburn fan...

Papa Hartin was here to help us celebrate, which made the day quite special.

Here's to at least 35 more years, Chip!

Silly Maddie

Maddie is 21 months old now. (Yes, I had to stop and count, because by child number three, you sorta lose track of those kinda things). I've enjoyed seeing her little personality come out here and there. So far she reminds me a lot of William -- comical, independent and very go-with-the-flow. She's also got a sweet servant's heart, as she's always the first to help out. It's so cute to watch her after the kids' gymnastics practice. Maddie eagerly retrieves Abby and William's shoes, without even being asked. Here are some recent silly shots of my silly little girl.



"Why, yes. I DO look like Elton John as a Viking."



"Reading" in her under-the-island cabinet.



Let me tell you, this girl knows how to do laundry.



Forget baby sign language. This is how she tells me she's done.



Holding your cup with your hands is for babies.



Mismatched gold-toned high heels are so in right now.



"Maybe one day mama will remember to keep the cookie box out of arm's reach. Until then, I'll have one more."

Masterpiece

Abby LOVES to draw. And she's pretty good at it. I'll catch her drawing in her room late at night; she's always got a story to go along with each creation.

Here's one of my favorites, which just so happens to have adorned our driveway a few weeks ago.

 

I think it's funny that she always labels Madeline as "baby."

 

It's Official!

Dr. Hartin has an office. What's more, he has his name ON THE SIGN.

We are so proud of you, Chip!



Of course the kids loved the kitchen...

Books, Castles, and Bears ... Oh, My!

Abby took a field trip at the end of August to the Upcountry History Museum. To see Smokey the Bear. Yeah.

She loved the Smokey exhibit SO much that she talked me into taking the kids back the next day. So I did. It was Saturday, and NO ONE was at the museum. The kids and I spent almost a good hour just playing and goofing off at the cool campsite exhibit. And to top it off, we met Smokey.

 

 

After the museum we strolled next door to the library. (We lived it up that Saturday, let me tell you!)

 



School Boy

I caught this shot one day after preschool. Where is my little boy?

 



Children's Museum Fun

Slow Down, Baby Girl

Slow down, baby girl.

The world will be yours soon enough.

Until then, play with your dolls. Roll in the grass. Laugh until it hurts. Cry without apology. Sing loudly and dance wildly. Play pretend. Soak up the sun. Run in the rain. Slide down slides and swing on swings. Smile at others. Be kind. Color the sidewalk. Paint your nails. Take naps. Memorize Scripture. Make messes. Read. Dream.

Slow down, baby girl.

The world will be yours soon enough.

This picture captures the dichotomy of Abby. Her high-heeled feet don't reach the ground, but she so badly wants to be a grown-up.

Wring It Dry

There are days when my head hits the pillow a pang of guilt hits my heart.

You see, I don't always soak up every precious moment of the day. I don't stop and take the time to really see behind the kids' tears or to really listen or to just STOP and enjoy the moment.

I liken it to hanging up a towel at the end of the day. Too often my towel was still soaking wet; I wasn't wringing it dry of all my husband, kids, and most importantly, God, had to offer me.

More than that, I wasn't offering all I had either. Things were left unsaid, lessons unshared, and kindness unspoken.

In pursuit of wringing my days dry, I'm slowing down and being more involved in the present moment. Dinner can wait an extra 10 minutes, and the grass can go another day without being cut. But I can't get these blink-once-and-the-kids-are-grown days back.

While being "tickle-tortured" by the two older kids, I looked down and noticed Maddie was wearing William's shoes. This is the shot I got as she was pulling them off. I'm glad I took the time to slow down and have a little fun.

The Tooth Fairy is a Cry Baby

I cried in the car line at school this afternoon.

Really.

When Ab saw my car, she sheepishly grinned and waved. Then, when the teacher escorted her to our car, I noticed a baggie with a white box in it. I knew what had happened.

Her snaggle-toothed smile confirmed it.

It turns out that Ab asked her teacher to pull her tooth at recess.

My princess. With a missing tooth.

Yes, I cried.

It's Just Strange

I've not quite gotten the rhythm of school yet.

William goes three days a week for half the day. I pick him up right after his lunch, head home to plop Maddie down for a quick nap, and then head back to school to pick up Ab.

The other two days are more relaxed. Like yesterday.

I wanted to get out of the house, so I thought I'd take advantage of the sunshine, having William home, and my newly purchased zoo membership.

"William, let's get ready and go to the zoo this morning, OK?" I said, perhaps over-excitedly.

He replied, "But we can't go to the zoo without Abby!"

I know, son. It's strange.

First Day (and the Second)

The kids were SO excited about school that we left the house at 7:30 because they just couldn't stand to wait any longer. School doesn't start 'til 8:15... They both had a blast, and they both were utterly exhausted.

First day of K3!

Maddie celebrated the first day with some yogurt.

I knew this morning, the second morning of school, would be a little less smooth. As anticipated, Abby started in with all the reasons why she didn't want to go to school today.

Drop-off time was a little hard. I ran into one of the moms I met yesterday at a moms' first-day "social." I told her what was going on and she said she'd say a prayer for us. Ah...lovin' private school already. :)

But, of course, Abby had a GREAT second day. She was even the prayer leader today, as in she led the prayers for snack time, lunch and after Bible. Wow. So proud of her.

Tonight at bedtime Ab said, "I'm so excited about going to school tomorrow!"

Praying it sticks 'til morning.

View from the Cul-de-sac

I've been melancholy the past few days. And rather than try to sum my feelings up as a neat little Facebook status, I figured I'd dust off the summer sand, exercise my tippety-tap typing fingers, and share a little bit here.

I can hear the applause. Thank you; it's good to be back.

To start, I love our house. I especially love the long (really long) driveway. It's the perfect spot for the kids to ride their bikes, draw with sidewalk chalk, and run races. Yesterday I laughed when our neighbor told me about all the times she's out in her back yard and she hears William riding his Big Wheel up and down and up and down.

We are located in a cul-de-sac, which is great for the kids' safety. It's also good for people-watching. Right after we moved in, I found myself glued to the front window trying to see who all our neighbors were. Yes, I'm that neighbor...

What struck me right away was the different life stages of each of the families. Some have teenagers, some have middle schoolers, some have grown children, and some don't have any kids at all.

But it was the across-the-street neighbors who were first to share a smile and a wave, even inviting us to their church. It was also the across-the-street neighbors who I watched yesterday.

I watched as they loaded the car. I watched as their daughter and son posed on the front porch one "last" time. And I watched the emotion-etched faces of the mother and father as they chauffeured their daughter off to college.

And there I was, out in the front yard, with my three little kids playing ball and ridin' Big Wheels. The juxtaposition of the life stages was poignant, and I couldn't help but wipe a tear from my cheek.

Another of our neighbors said that at least the college-bound girl wouldn't be moving far from home.

It's so much more than just distance.

It's the sobering realization that time marches on. Time passes. Too quickly.

William and Abby start school tomorrow. And I am NOT ready. I'm not ready for what a new school year represents. But here I am, being whooshed along in the crashing waves of time, edging ever closer to the rocks that lie ahead.

I'll end with a short story that was shared in our Sunday school class last week. It's worth reading.

The Green, Green Grass of Home

by Erma Bombeck
 

When Mike was 2, he wanted a sandbox, and his father said: “There goes the yard. We’ll have kids over here day and night, and they’ll throw sand into the flower beds, and cats will make a mess in it, and it’ll kill the grass for sure.”
 

And Mike’s mother said, “It’ll come back.” 
 

When Mike was 5, he wanted a jungle gym set with swings that would take his breath away and bars to take him to the summit, and his father said: “Good grief, I’ve seen those things in back yards, and do you know what they look like? Mud holes in a pasture. Kids digging their gym shoes in the ground. It’ll kill the grass.”
 

And Mike’s mother said, “It’ll come back.” 
 

Between breaths, when Daddy was blowing up the plastic swimming pool, he warned: “You know what they’re going to do to this place? They’re going to condemn it and use it for a missile site. I hope you know what you’re doing. They’ll track water everywhere and have a million water fights, and you won’t be able to take out the garbage without stepping in mud up to your neck. When we take this down, we’ll have the only brown lawn on the block.” 
 

“It’ll come back,” Mike’s mother said. 
 

When Mike was 12, he volunteered his yard for a camp out. As they hoisted the tents and drove in the spikes, his father stood at the window and observed, “Why don’t I just put the grass seed out in cereal bowls for the birds and save myself the trouble of spreading it around? You know for a fact that those tents and all those big feet are going to trample down every single blade of grass, don’t you. Don’t bother to answer. I know what you’re going to say. 
 

“‘It’ll come back.’” 
 

The basketball hoop on the side of the garage attracted more crowds than the Olympics. And a small patch of lawn that started out with a barren spot the size of a garbage can lid soon drew to encompass the entire side yard. 
 

Just when it looked as if the new seed might take root, the winter came and the sled runners beat it into ridges. Mike’s father shook his head and said, “I never asked for much in this life – only a patch of grass.” 
 

And his wife smiled and said, “It’ll come back.”
 

The lawn this fall was beautiful. It was green and alive and rolled out like a sponge carpet along the drive where gym shoes had trod … along the garage where bicycles used to fall … and around the flower beds where little boys used to dig with iced-tea spoons.
 

But Mike’s father never saw it. He anxiously looked beyond the yard and asked with a catch in his voice, “He will come back, won’t he?”

Winding Down in the Heat

Eleven more days. 'Til then, we will continue to enjoy our favorite parks. Early in the morning to beat the heat, that is. Very early in the morning.

 



The First and Last

First Day of Kindergarten
Smallwood Elementary
September 5, 2012
Buffalo, NY

Last Day of Kindergarten
Roberts Elementary
June 6, 2013
Houston, TX

Flippin' Out

Abby's gymnastics class showed off their skills last week during an end-of-semester performance. Each child took turns doing their best cartwheel, and then they rotated around the gym doing routines on the balance beam, vault and parallel bars. She has certainly grown, both in confidence and in strength, since last September.

Here's my little athlete...