Band-Aid

So much for this new box of band-aids...

Sibling Rivalry

Yesterday we finally taught Oskar to tie his shoes.  Once he learned, Annika was determined to learn so today *she*m learned how to tie her shoes.  That's sibling rivalry for you.

Entropy

Oskar just informed me that he doesn't want to be outside "because of entropy".

Edit 3:20pm

As I mentioned on Facebook, he was explaining to me that entropy causes your cells to die and clearly he didn't want that. He also had concerns about Blackbody Radiation.

We just got home from soccer, where we were, and I told him that I was going to look up Blackbody Radiation in his Physics book. He said, "Look under "Hot Stuff". Sure enough - here they are entropy and blackbody radiation.

Breakfast Convo with Osk

Oskar: Mom, where should I live when I grow up?

Me: Close to me.

Oskar: I was thinking close to the Natural History Museum.

[pause]

If I have kids, I could take them to the Natural History Museum. And I was thinking you could come with us.  I'll call you up, and then you can come meet us, and we'll go to the Natural History Museum."

I've Got the Travelin' Bug

Yesterday my brother jokingly - or perhaps not so jokingly - called me a "babysitter whore".  (Though I would argue that I'm actually more of a babysitter pimp...just sayin'.) But I'll tell you what, I totally feel like that's true. And frankly, it's no laughing matter.  I think this has been the hardest thing for me about motherhood for me - the constancy of it.  I know that probably sounds ridiculous and maybe my situation is a little extreme (with four young children and all) but truly, I wasn't prepared for how trapped I would feel.  I mean, I love my kids, I think you all know that.  And I love doing stuff with them...and taking pictures of it.  But there's so much MORE that I want to do (and used to be able to do).   

This seems like a good time to acknowledge a few saints in my life.  First there's my very kind sister-in-law who comes over and watches our children several times a month so that my husband and I can spend a little time together doing SOMETHING.  I appreciate it so much.  It's a luxury we would not otherwise be able to afford. I try so hard to not additionally take advantage of her, because it already feels like so much.  And I do try to let her know how much we appreciate it but the fact that she does this for us, without even having children and understanding how desperately I long for time to myself...well...like I said, she's a saint.  That's all there is to be said.

The other person who deserves a public thank you is my next door neighbor.  She has five children of her own so she totally understands why I don't relish dragging my troop to doctor appointments or shopping or oil changes or whatever it might be.  Many a time I've called her up for a favor, "Can so and so (or more typically, several of them) come over while I run and do XYZ".  She's a really good sport about it and I'm pretty sure I owe her about a week's worth of solid babysitting.

But contrary to the experience those two have had with me, it's actually really hard for me to ask for help. I hate to be a bother.  And neither of them are really able to help me scratch my traveling itch anyway (though not for lack of willingness on either of their parts, I have no doubt). My mom was such an awesome help when the kids were younger but then she moved out of the area (hopefully not just to get away from my perpetual requests for help!!).  At least once Mom came back and watched all four kids for a long weekend but quite frankly, I think she found it a little overwhelming. It'd probably be easier now that the kids are a little older and more independent, but still, it's a lot.  I have another sister-in-law who would no doubt be very willing but again, she has a job and plenty of responsibilities of her own.

So yeah, traveling is tricky these days.

Why don't we travel with the kids?!  Ha!  I'll tell you why.  One thing that I hadn't considered before we suddenly found ourselves the parents of four children was how expensive everything would be.  I would love to take them out west for a ski trip or plan a family cruise but plain and simple, WE CAN'T AFFORD IT!! 

*sigh*  Becoming a parent has forced me to plant my feet on the ground much more solidly than I ever intended too.  Instead of making plans for the near future, I daydream about the distant future.  (And anyone who knows me well probably also knows that patience is not one of my fortés.) So who knows when I'll actually be able to start traveling again but it WILL happen, I promise you that.  Someday...someday.

First Day of School

Oskar and I were both up bright and early for the morning bus.  Afterwards, several of us gathered at a neighbor's house for a little back-to-school celebration. (I was the only slacker who showed up empty-handed. Oops!)

Waiting for the "afternoon" bus (which arrives at 11 in the morning).

The kids got home from their first day of school and Annika was immediately telling me all about her new friends and the things they did and who invited her for a playdate and so on and so forth.  Eventually I was able to ask Oskar how his day was and he responded, "Average" and quickly added with a whine, "But it's too long."

Assistant

The other day Kardynn was being particularly clingy.  I was trying to get the house cleaned up and it was challenging with a child attached at the hip (literally).  So I tried to think of ways to distract her.  I thought maybe I could get her to "help" me.  We proceeded to have a conversation that went something like this:

Me: Would you like to be Mommy's assistant?
Kardynn: I not She-shen, I Kardynn.
Me: No, not Kiersten, A-SSIS-TANT. Do you want to me by A-SSIS-TANT?
Kardynn: Sheshen's downstairs. I Kardynn Engen.
Me: An assistant is someone who helps someone else. You can be my assistant.
Kardynn: No, I Kar-dynn.

And on it went.  Eventually I gave up and continued to carry her around on my hip.  For the record, typically she doesn't even call Kiersten "She-shen" anymore.  She's moved on to calling her Kir-sten.