Hadley's Letter to Santa

Mommy, those people at the post office were sending letters to Santa.  Do you know what letter I'm going to send to Santa?  The letter "H" because Hadley starts with H.

Kindergarten!

Thatcher headed off to Kindergarten on 29 August.  As usual, we had a flurry of activity surrounding this monumental event, so I was able to successfully make it through this transition without having a nervous breakdown.  Years (okay, let's be honest...weeks) from now, I know I will not remember the anxiety I had about letting him ride the bus with older children.  Would a fourth grade tartlet school him on sex  the first day?  Would some hardened fifth grader offer him a joint to celebrate finishing the first week of school?  Would the bus driver inadvertently teach him the "F word?"  In the end, transportation logistics--and his earnest desire to hang out with Lauren and Avery at the bus stop--won out, and I sent him off.  Even the ever nonplussed Chad couldn't believe it. 

Thankfully, kindergarten here is only a half-day program.  By half day, I mean it is only THREE HOURS long.  Thankfully, that bus ride--which tacks an extra 30 minutes onto each end of the school day--buys me a little extra time to take a shower or check my email; but it isn't much.  He's off at 7:15 and back home at 11:25.  He is really looking forward to having a full 90 minutes of Hadley-free time on the days she is at school.  If I plan my day just right (which rarely happens), I have Harrison napping when Thatcher gets home, so he can get some undivided attention.

Some Kindergarten stats for Thatcher include:

• School starts at 7:50 and ends at 10:50.  I need a work day like that.
• His backpack features Perry the Platypus from his favorite show,  "Phineas and Ferb."
• On his way to the bus on the first day, he told Hadley, "Hadley, I sure will miss you while I'm at school today." 
• The kindergartners do not eat lunch at school.  They do, however, have a "milk break."  For reasons unbeknownst to me, Thatcher usually chooses white milk, rather than chocolate or strawberry.  The first day, he told me he did it because I told him to drink the milk (and he didn't realize that meant he could have CHOCOLATE milk).  Now that he knows he can have whatever he wants, he still chooses the white.  What is wrong with him? 
•  Milk for the ENTIRE school year is $50.  That doesn't cover my monthly Starbucks habit. 

 Mom, I'm going to miss the bus!

 Walking to the bus with Lauren

 The Mill Run Court Kids

Lauren, Thatcher, Austin, and Avery

 The New Kindergartners...Ready to Conquer!

 Gran came up to see her special guy off on his big adventure.

 Thatcher and his teacher, Mrs. Thornhill

Colors

On Sunday, Hadley informed me that her hair is yellow and white, just like Teddy, Charlie, and Mom from "Good Luck Charlie."  She then told me that my hair has "just a little bit yellow to go with the brown and grey." 

I hope she enjoyed the three and a half years she was in my will.

Star Wars Continued

Granddaddy (aka "Star Commander") came to visit this past weekend.  Best of all (according to Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia), he brought "light savers" for the kids.  The entire weekend was spent playing Star Wars in the back yard, in the house, in the car, in the galaxy, you name it.  With the arrival of Star Commander, Harrison was invited to participate in the epic saga.  Leia issued a royal decree that, henceforth, he shall be known as "R-D-Do-Two." 

May the Force Be With You...

Hadley: "Thatcher, we are going to play Stah-Wahs.  I'm going to be Princess Leia.  You're going to be Luke.  Daddy is going to be Dark Bader."

Thatcher: "Hadley, we can't play Star Wars.  Darth Vader is at golf."

Harrison Update

Hadley’s “Sweet Luh-in Baby” is a child who will not be contained. If the doors aren’t locked, you can guarantee that he has escaped and is either playing in the back yard, riding a trike in the garage, or once again draining my car battery. He makes a beeline for our neighbor’s playset and fearlessly climbs to the top of the six-foot structure so he can either slide or just climb back down again. He loves to hop on Hadley’s Tinkerbell big wheel and go flying down the driveway and into the cul-de-sac. The child is fearless.

Harrison is measuring almost three feet tall and tips the scales at 29 pounds. He outweighs Hadley at least by a bag of sugar…if not more. Clearly, he still has a love affair with food and often goes into the pantry to find a snack for himself. It doesn’t count unless he has something for each hand. He has recently developed a nasty Starbucks addiction. It gets really ugly really fast f I even think about going through the drive through without ordering him a vanilla milk. The child also has a mild obsession with beer bottles – something which won’t be nearly as cute in 15 years.

When his mouth isn’t full, you’ll find Harrison calling for “That-sur,” “Ad-Eee,” “Daddy,” or “Mom-Me.” He is also quick to say “(ch)eese” for the camera. Ham.

At least the kid sleeps. So what if he only will take naps in the car? A nap is a nap. We might have to put a window A/C unit in the garage this summer, but it’s a small sacrifice for this face.

Hadley at Three

How do I begin to describe Hadley at age three? If you ask her, she will tell you she is "Hadley Cakes Davis." She will tell you that she is three years old...and that when she turns four, she will be a boy and will be able to ride "Thunder Mountain Railroad" at Disney. Ever since she watched the Royal Wedding a few weeks ago, she will tell you that the former Kate Middleton should really be called "Princess Hadley Kate." If the newly minted royal won't go for that, Hadley will tell you that you can go ahead and call HER "Princess Hadley Kate." She will also tell you that her granddaddy calls her a Jack Wagon. She insists, however, that he is, in fact, the jack wagon and that he lives in "Pamby Mamby Land." She has graduated from wanting to watch "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" and now wakes up every day asking to watch "Good Luck Charlie" while she sucks down her morning "smoovie." Despite her nudist tendencies (see below), she remains incredibly shy and self conscious. She loves to sing but will immediately stop if she thinks anyone is listening. It is not uncommon for her to verbally regurgitate the four hours worth of words she held in during school.

Hadley continues to hone her already highly developed fashion sense. By choice, her shoes are on the wrong feet at least 90% of the time. She still loves her hats but lately has taken to wanting multiple bows, headbands, etc. in her hair at the same time. It makes for some interesting hair days. If you look closely, you'll note that she has one bow, two headbands, two hair clips, and NINE ponytail holders. They ALL need to be part of the look. That's just the hair. There's a Hello Kitty necklace and bracelet in that lineup, too

Hadley also has some tendencies I can describe only as OCD. She sorted her pull-ups according to which princess adorned each one and lined them up in appropriate rows across her bathroom floor. She lines up her coloring books in a neat row on the train table in the playroom so she can examine her artwork. In the photo, you will see how she put her babies to bed the other night. She didn't like how disorderly they were just tossed in the baby bed, so she created rows of book "beds" and placed a doll on each one. Even the Disney babies are grouped together.

 

Last but not least, this is my sweet girl's sleeping MO. She is tucked into her bed, where she has her story and prayers, then says, "Can I go get in your bed now?" She has night terrors, and after three years of fighting it, she finally just wore us down. At least this way, we can all sleep at night. She sleeps on "mommy's side" of the king size bed, leaving me approximately 18 inches of sleeping space. That's when she is not sleeping horizontally across the bed. Yes, the princess boot slippers are a sleeping staple. The two headbands and necklace don't always make the bedtime wardrobe cut, but clearly they did for this photo.

( . )( . )

Friday night as I was tucking Thatcher in, he lifted his shirt and said, "Mom, what are these little bumpy things right here?" I told him they were his nipples. He seemed satisfied and then said, "Well, mom, what are those really big bumpy things you have?" As I stammered and struggled to stifle my laughter, he quickly answered his own question: "I call them boobies." Great.

Kindergarten Registration

This morning, I took Thatcher to register for kindergarten. Kindergarten in Loudoun County is only three hours long each day, which makes the prospect of sending him off in the fall much easier to bear. Registration consists of the usual - proof of identity, proof of residency, health records, etc. Kindergarten registration, however, requires a "parent input form" for parents to complete, describing their child's strengths, areas of concern, and the type of teacher with whom the parent feels the child will best perform. After consulting with Aunt Leslie (aka 2008 Cobb County Teacher of the Year), I wrote:

"Thatcher will work best with a teacher who is warm, nurturing, and welcoming. He would perform well in a structured classroom setting. He is responsible, sensitive, and responds quickly to verbal cues. Thatcher is excited about learning to read, tell time, and count money."

I felt pretty good about my input...until I caught a glimpse of what Janie's* mom put on her form: “Janie is a smart, charming, and engaging child. She will flower in any classroom setting that challenges her intellect. Any teacher will find her to be an absolute delight in the classroom.”

I don't know Janie; but I'm sure if I meet her during the course of the school year, I'll be absolutely delighted and thoroughly impressed by her intellectual prowess. Needless to say, I can't wait.

*Name has been changed to protect the prodigy.

Mani-Pedi

Dear Hadley,

Thanks so much for finding my top coat nail polish. I was looking for it last night when I was doing my nails. You obviously had better luck finding it when you gave yourself a manicure AND pedicure tonight in my bedroom before going to sleep. For a first attempt, I have to admit you did a great job...and I'm pretty hopeful I can get the love-drops of polish out of my night stand.

Thanks Again,
Your Mom

Thatcher's Vocab Lesson

"I will not 'chit-chat,' dad. That means 'talk.'"

Snack Money

Channeling equal parts June Cleaver and Martha Stewart this morning, I made the children pancakes for breakfast. Making pancakes was never an issue before having children; however, it's not easy when you're flying solo with three kids five and under, all of whom want something at the exact same time...and at just the second you need to flip the flapjacks before your house goes up in flames. Within moments of plating the three sets of pancakes--one cut with butter and syrup (Thatcher), one NOT cut with copious amounts of whipped cream (Hadley), and one cut with a fine layer of jam spread on top (Harrison)--and pouring up three drinks, Thatcher declared he was finished with his half-eaten pancakes. After much discussion, I excused him from the table with the understanding that he would not be having any snacks before lunch and, more importantly, that he was not to ASK for any snacks. To reiterate the importance of the latter, Thatcher agreed that he would pay me $1 each time he asked me for a snack before lunch. Clearly, at this point, June and Martha gave way to my inner Donald Trump.

About an hour later, I found Thatcher searching under the couch and all over the house for something. Finally, I asked what on earth he was doing. He casually replied, "I'm looking for money so I can get a snack."

ASTRO Orbiter

Thatcher: "Mom, the next time we go to Disney, can we ride the asshole orbiter?"

Sure thing, Thatcher. Sure thing.

Please Don't Bother Trying to Find Her...She's Not There

Chad: "Hadley, is that you?"
Hadley: "No. I not here."

Thatcherism

"I'm so sore I can't even move. My body is tired from holding my brain."

A Note To Harrison

Dear Harrison,

In the past thirty minutes you have managed to litter my kitchen floor with the grill baster, three dog toys, an 18-inch Christmas ornament, your favorite small pot, your second favorite medium-sized pot, a dog sweater, cooking spray, a bundt pan, and a Q-tip. Oh, let's not forget Winston and W's entire bowl of water. Just since I started typing, you've started in on the tupperware cabinet. Harrison, the cleaning ladies were here today; but I don't think your father will even be able to tell.

Love,
Your Mom

Is That a Wand in Your Pocket or Are You Just...

I am not the tooth fairy. I am the tooth fairy's helper. I'm here to fight bad guys.

Harrison at One

Harrison suffers some serious misfortunes.

1. His birthday is sandwiched between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
2. He is the third child.
3. He is the third child...and his siblings are all under the age of five.
4. Did I mention he is the third child?

His first birthday came and went without even the slightest blog entry...something that obviously NEVER happens with a firstborn. That's not to say, of course, that it was uneventful. Maybe some day I'll get around to posting the photos of Harrison--terrified--as the entire family sang "Happy Birthday" to him. Some day, too, I'll post the photos of Thatcher hacking away at the pinata he insisted Harrison have for his first birthday party. Of course, it might not be until after Harrison is in kindergarten. Posting the pictures from Christmas and our trip to San Antonio for Xandra's wedding probably won't happen until after he graduates...from college.

Rather than dwell in the past and posts long since forgotten, let's focus on today. Harrison at one (or pushing 14 months, but who's counting). Right now, he is sleeping in the car, where he invariably gets the best naps. Given that the little darling wakes up every day at 4AM, it figures that he would take his nap in the morning, usually on the way to take Thatcher and Hadley to school. When we get home, I crank up a space heater in the garage, pray that it doesn't catch the house on fire, and frantically try to knock off one item from my ever-expanding to-do list (or watch a TIVO-ed show that I didn't get to see from the night/week/month/year before because I have to go to bed at 9PM).

When not car-napping, the King divides his time between reorganizing my cabinets (see above) and honing his quarterback skills. He finds any ball he can get his hands on--preferably Winston and W's football-shaped treat balls--and works on his passing game. Guess he will never play for Georgia Tech if Paul Johnson sticks around. All bias aside, I think he actually has a pretty good arm!

He is ever the mommy's boy, quick with hugs and often affectionately pats my back as I'm holding him. It is beyond endearing. He enjoys pointing out his tormentors (siblings) and parents whenever you ask him where someone is. Yesterday, he even added "Thatcher" to his speaking repertoire, which heretofore had consisted only of "mama" and "dada."

He's a good boy, and I woudn't trade him for the world. The 4AM wakeup calls on the other hand...

Sleeping with Monsters

Today is the new year's first day of school! With Harrison sleeping soundly in the car, the only sound I hear is that of my fingers on the keyboard. Bliss! Better still, Thatcher and Hadley will now be going to school three days a week!!! I'm already hatching schemes for what I can do with an extra four hours on my hands. Somehow, though, I am confident Harrison has his own ideas about how we will occupy our Thursday mornings.

We rang in the new year in San Antonio, celebrating Xandra's wedding. We toured the Alamo, visited the zoo, dined on the River Walk, were serenaded by Mariachis, danced and danced and danced some more at the reception, and trekked out to Floresville for a post-wedding Menudo brunch at Xandra's parents' home. The kids are now officially half-Mexican. With mom and Cecil joining us for the trip, we shared two rooms at the El Tropicano. Thatcher slept in his own bed; Harrison didn't sleep at all; and Hadley slept...with a monster. After our first night in the hotel, Hadley, who was sharing a room with mom and Cecil, started growling at breakfast. It was a dead-on impersonation of Karl Childers from Sling Blade. When mom asked her what she was doing, she replied, "I heard that sound in my room last night. It was a monster." Maybe now Papa Cecil will believe he snores.