Thanks a lot

Just a few turkey day pictures. It was a very quiet affair this year. Kiddos and me, parents, Matt and Mace. The food was to die for and so was the company. Lots of time to just chat, relax and reflect. Missed one VIP who will remain unnamed.

HEN IS TEN!

Read it and weep peeps. Double digits. Closer to teenager than toddler. Getting smarter every day(smart mouthed as well as just smart). I almost fit into his tennies. He is up to my shoulder. Still a push over with his sisters. He and Max have developed a love/hate sort of thing. Has a really fun group of friends. Wants to look like uncle Mike when he grows up to be an engineer. Talks my ear off, still. Is a math wiz. Super artistic. Genuinely funny, tad bit sarcastic(where did that come from?) Sleep walking champ. Skinny as a beanpole. Conscientious. Thoughtful. My right hand man these days. Love him, my first born. Couldn't imagine my life without him in it. Makes me want to be a better mother and better human being. A true gift.

One a dem days

So I had one of those days. You know, the one that starts with a 5a.m. feeding and then a 5:30a.m. feeding and then a 6:07a.m. feeding, then one at 6:38a.m. just to prove a point. Then a 2 year old who's voice is constantly set to megaphone, bright eyed and whiny at 6:43. Then I realize FAR to late that the closest roll of toilet paper to me is in the garage. Then the boys wake-up and the house goes into full-fledged fight club mode, pre-breakfast time, pre-bus time, pre-get-the-H-to school time. So before I am even awake I have lost all patience and care. Then the DVD player decides to go on the fritz right as I calm the 2 year old down with the promise of Dora-mermaid. Boys head to school, dress and feed the rest of us and baby decides to channel the exorcist and explodo-vomits all over the only thing I have to wear at this point in my chubby existence that doesn't make me want to cry. Then the day really starts as I KSL my existence away and get no less than 2 phone calls every 3 minutes for the rest of the day. Have to mail some packages and so spend close to 3 hours prepping, taping, re-taping, re-packaging, re-leasing swear words into my head. Get into Van Helsing(my Honda) to a smell that can only be described as death. Play twenty questions with my self about it's origin; Animal? Vegetable? Definitely not a mineral. Fully unwrap scenty tree hoping to mask smell.(I really don't have time to take care of it now) Head to post office where I cruelly judge postal woman for her Bumpits hair piece and feel true shame. Spend a small fortune to send the goods. Go see mama in hospital, and want to cry. Woman is in so much pain and so hopped up on pain meds. Not used to seeing her this way. She is the woman who actually mopped her floor when she had pneumonia, because, "it needed it". Nothing gets her down. Feel like I am five and useless and wish I were a better daughter. Run home to kiddos. Need to clean the whole house before tomorrow, realtor coming. Have been de-junking and organizing house so it literally looks like WWIII. 2 year old and baby decide at the same moment that they NEED me. One to be fed one to be cuddled. House languishes in filth. Make a quick, quasi-nutritious, quasi-edible dinner. Baby decides to have an explodo-diaper that only a warm bath will fix. Eat, clean, clean, feed baby(so messy, that baby cereal), clean baby, jammies, scriptures, prayer, talk to hubby on phone, 2 year old decides she is "too scary" to sleep and proceeds to mess up recently cleaned room. 10 year old "can't fall asleep" and wants to figure out were Boston is on the map. Freak out a bit which quiets all children. Breathe deep for the first time all day. Blog. What? Holy Banana, what a day.

Mornings

Millie loves her sissy. Eleanor loves hers too. The other morning I woke to find this little party going on.Millie made sure to give Ella her binky and the two were having a grand ole time.

Then there is this.

Pulled out the bouncer and while I made breakfast the gals had a hey day.

Millie has not mastered the "natural smile" It is all "cheese" with this girl

Millie had Eleanor going. Amazing!

"You are my sister and you are awesome!"

Seriously? Edible!

Joy was just a thing that we were raised on.

The title of this post is a line from a John Denver song. You know that singer-guy that I am twins with? It seems to perfectly express how I feel when I look at my babes. They bring me such joy and silliness and just plain everything.

The Tornado

Eleanor needs to eat. It is a simple fact of life. It turns out that she is like all the rest of my babies. Breast milk it is, and only breast milk. Now feeding this baby is not something I can do while moving. So when it is time to eat I am stuck on the couch or chair or whateves. On this day Millie was in her room while said activity was happening. I could hear her singing and I heard something else, something that sounded like her playing with blocks. Maybe cooking a fab meal in her kitchen. This, never entered my mind.
So I say(all calm-like, because I am turning over a new leaf, which is a very heavy leaf)"What are you doing, sis?"
She replies, "Oh just singing a sawn and rippin out my books."
Me, "What song, baby?"
Her, "A sawn about a girl and a pony and a hippo."
Again me, "Honey, why did you rip out all of your books? That is messy. You need to clean this up, mommy will help you."
She, "Sorry(as in I'd love to but I have better things to do)"
So I start cleaning up the books hoping to inspire her to help and she says, "Mommy, you need to clean up this mess. It makes my room so scabby."
And then she gives me one of those perfect Millie smiles and we giggle and giggle in her scabby room.

All Hallows Eve

We spent halloween at my parents trunk-or-treat this year. Henry decided that this was the year he went off on his own. So he and a buddy went around our neighborhood with his friend's dad. Max and Millie just enjoyed themselves and got some serious candy. After the big party I took them to a few houses to "Treat or Treat". It always amazes me what candy does to a child. It is like speed. The energy that they had was nothing short of amazing. The crash wasn't to shabby either.

Eleanor @ 4 months

Here she is at 4 months. Still an absolute joy. She weighs in at 14 and 1/2 pounds and is 25 inches. Millie was 20 lbs at a year. She goos and drools and smiles with her whole person. Love her. Fo sho

Falling

This is what fall looks like at the Bake house.
Took the kiddos to a little fall fair. May have been geared to the younger crowd.

"Seriously, a petting zoo?" were the exact words said with complete disgust by Henry

Eleanor loved it.

Max and Mills were not at all disgusted by the petting zoo.

Aren't they a cute bunch.

Did the fall tradition of going to the Red Barn and picking out our pumpkins. Made the mistake of going on a Saturday with out any adult supervision. Needless to say it was a little harder than it could have been.
Carved and painted pumpkins. Love this part.

She's an angel straight from heaven

Because baby girl is so mellow she may be a tad neglected. She only cries if she is hungry, tired, or messy. So she is content to hang out on the floor or in her bouncy chair or in her bumbo. She seems to always be waiting for someone to look at her so she can smile. She has no problem talking to her toys or whatever else is in her line of sight. On this day I had put her down while I was taking care of her big sis and this is what I found when I was done, little sleeping angel. Man, lucky me.

Who in their right mind?

Who invented mini candy bars? Because whoever they are I am going to kick their bum, hard. Let's take a moment and discuss. Now they are cute and they are just the right size to pass out to trick-or-treaters. They fit oh-so sweetly in your diaper bag, purse, pocket, hand, etc. They come in every flavor under the sun(except Whatchamacallit, which may actually be a blessing). The problem is they play psychological mind games on me. If the truth be told, a couple of minis equal a regular, but my mind isn't buying it. In my head they are babies, and babies don't hurt people(except that accidental head-butting crap). Thus, 12 minis is nothing. I just snarf away. Snarf people, that's right, I said snarf. Now this wouldn't be bad if I was Henry, who has the metabolism of a humming bird, or Liz, who has the work-out ethic of an Olympian. I have neither. I just have the desire to polish off a whole bag of mini Kit-Kats, lay on the couch and watch trashy sitcoms. Is there a twelve step program, cuz my extra 50(that's right 5-0) pounds of baby weight is going no where fast. Plus I may or may not have lapsed into a mini-induced sugar coma earlier today. Will somebody, somebody, somebody, somebody. Will anybody find me.......some willpower to love? For Reals.

Big girl bed

We have done it! Made the transition from crib to bed. We set up the bed and made a huge fuss about what a big girl Millie is(which is a bald-face lie)First night she climbed in hunkered down in her covers and drifted into dreamland. Second night she was up and out of there several times but eventually succumbed. Third night, perfection. I almost want to weep at her growing up but I also love the evolution and development of her little self. I think I have said it before, but.....This gal is one in a million and I LOVE her.