Four Year Check-Up

Stats: Height of just over 39 inches, weight of just over 41lbs, both of which place her squarely in the 50th-55th percentile. I just love my adorable little average baby girl.

Did you know that the four year check-up is the one where they start putting babies in little miniature hospital gowns?

Sorry, we took a lot of pictures during the appointment because we got bored while waiting for the nurse to come back in to administer the flu shot to Caitlin and three vaccines + flu shot for Brigid. Although...we were only bored up until the point when I started getting Brigid set up for her shots, and we realized that her night-night was not, in fact, in the diaper bag where it had been when we got out of the car. And the nurse went to retrace our steps to see if she could find it. And the doctor called the front desk to see if someone had turned a blue blanket in to them. And I ran out to the car to see if it had fallen out before we went into the office.

And the answer to all of these things was no.

I'm not going to lie, I was INCREDIBLY panicked at the thought that I'd lost Brigid's favorite thing in the whole entire world, but I stopped off at the front desk to double check that it wasn't there on my way back in from the car, and they actually DID have it. It's just...well, it's not exactly blue anymore. And it's an old sleep sack, not a blanket. So they had absolutely no idea what we were talking about when we'd called up to them in the first place.

Anyway, Caitlin screamed through her flu shot, but Brigid sang Rock A Bye Baby to her while it was happening, to comfort her, and it was the absolute sweetest thing in the entire world. Brigid is just such a wonderful big sister, I can't even believe how lucky we are in that regard. Of course, I then repaid her by holding her down while she got four shots of her own, so she might think twice before being that sweet again. But she perked up pretty quickly when I promised her we'd stop to get ice cream on the way home, and the nurse gave her some Sofia stickers, and she got a lollipop on the way out of the office, and by the time we made it to the car, it was like the shots had never even happened.

So maybe she won't hold that against me, after all.

Stuck. Again.

I will never not find this funny.

The Picking of the Pumpkins

My kids always look at me like I have three heads or something, every time I try to get them to smile for a picture.

We took them to the pumpkin patch last weekend! We bought them pumpkins, and pumpkin loaf, and pumpkin bread, and a sparkly spider! You'd think I'd be able to get at least one, small smile from them, right?

Better. Thank you.

We now have some pumpkins on our front step, and sadly, that's the extent of the Halloween decorations we've managed to get up this year. First we couldn't decorate because the house was on the market, and now we're so busy trying to pack up all of our stuff, we still haven't had time to put any decorations out, and I'm a little bummed about it. We are just so darn good at decorating for Halloween that it's a shame we're moving from the neighborhood (knock on wood that everything goes smoothly. I feel like we need all of the good karma we can get with everything we've dealt with so far in this process...) without leaving so much as a rogue zombie or jumping spider in our wake.

But! I need to focus on the bigger picture, right? This time, next year, we'll (hopefully) be settled into a new house, with Halloween decorations in every crack and corner of the place. And we'll only be a half an hour from places like this:

I just need to keep reminding myself that it will all be worth it in the end.

Hey-O!!

I can't look at this picture without laughing, because COME ON.

Who is this goofy little thing? Where did she come from? Because I'm telling you right now, I could SWEAR I was just pregnant with her last month. But now, all of a sudden, she's all, I don't know...excited about things or something. 

'Hey you guuuuys! I'm outside! There's water over there! I'm hanging out with my dad! Look! LOOK AT ME! THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE!'

I'm pretty sure, if I'd kept taking pictures, the jazz hands were coming out next...

Family Pictures

In today's news of parental laziness, I have a confession to make: I am a terrible taker of pictures in that I never take any pictures of anything on anything other than my phone.

I mean, we have a nice camera that I could use to document our family outings, if I ever wanted to take it with me. But it never does quite seem to make the trip because, honestly, I just don't like the process of taking pictures. I hate lugging the camera around. I hate trying to get everyone in position to take the actual picture. I hate uploading hundreds of pictures onto the computer at a later date. I hate sorting through those hundreds of pictures to find just FIVE pictures where everyone looks like I want them to look.

So I don't do it. And most of the time, I DON'T HAVE TO!!

Because, you see, my brother-in-law likes to do all of those things I hate to do. And not only does he like doing those things, he goes one step further and EDITS all of the pictures when he's finished with the lugging and taking and uploading and sorting. So I don't have to do any of it.

See how happy I look?

  

(Although, I could have used this impromptu photo shoot a few days earlier, when Brigid's preschool teacher requested a family photo for an art activity they're doing this week. My pickings for that request were...slim. I think the picture I finally found to send with her included Brigid wandering out of the frame and the back of Caitlin's head, as she's buried in my shoulder while I was trying to calm her down from a crying fit. That should make a lovely finished project, whatever it is...)

Bubbles!

Someday, I'm going to look back at all of the pictures I've taken of Brigid over the years, and I'm going to wonder why I never invested $2 in something as simple as buying a hairbrush.

Second Child Syndrome

As Caitlin closes in on her first birthday, I've started thinking back to where we were with Brigid at the same time, and even though it seemed like THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD when it was happening, I can't even begin to tell you what milestones we were and weren't supposed to be marking off at this point in her young life. Lucky for us, I spent hours and hours of my time documenting just those very (tiny) details about life, so at least I have a reference for where I'm failing my darling second daughter.

Because sometimes, I feel like I'm doing it all wrong with Caitlin. She doesn't pull herself up into a standing position, yet. She doesn't come close to trying to walk. Honestly, she doesn't even CRAWL at this point, either. She doesn't wave hi or bye, she's not a giggler, she doesn't dance.

She, uh, does have more teeth than Brigid, though? So that counts for something? And I didn't fight the transition to adult food nearly as much this time around, although that was mostly more about me being lazy than anything else, but I think I can still mark it as a win for this round. And even though she doesn't crawl, it hasn't stopped her from being completely mobile in her own way, which is bad news for us in that the dogs' water bowl has developed some weird sort of magnetic pull for her, and I now have to move the stupid thing outside when she's on the move unless I want the entire bowl emptied all over my kitchen floor and the rotten little 10-month old that occupies that floor.

I don't read to her as much as I read to Brigid, I don't think there are as many toys out and within her reach as what Brigid had, I don't think we've made her work on developing her skills as much as we did with Brigid. And I know it's ridiculous to compare the two of them, because all kids are different, but the fact of the matter is that when Caitlin doesn't do things at the same rate at which Brigid did them, I feel like it's my fault.

And I kind of feel like I'm about to channel all of this parental concern into the upcoming end-of-formula-times that are upon us. At age one, Brigid was done with formula and done with bottles, and it was my favorite of all of the milestones (Seriously, I might have enjoyed this time even more than the first time she said mama.). IT WAS A BIG DEAL, AND I WILL NOT LET CAITLIN FALL BEHIND ON THIS MILESTONE.

Start practicing, kid...

The Pink Party

Between work, Caitlin, and the stress of trying to sell our house/buy a new one, I feel like I kind of mailed in Brigid's birthday party this year. For her earlier parties (you know, the ones she didn't even CARE about because she was just a baby...), I started planning months in advance. I'd Pinterest the heck out of whatever theme I'd decided on for the event, and we'd lay out elaborate plans for decorations and menu options.

Case in point: I still have an entire stack of Krystal cups in my pantry from Brigid's second birthday party, when Steve decided we should do a hot dog bar. We picked up so many hot dogs and buns from the place, they outfitted us with enough dinnerware to last us two years, apparently. All of this, for a party of about 10 people. 

This year? I was tired. When Brigid told me she wanted a 'pink' themed party, I figured it could plan itself. And then I almost forgot to call and book a place to have it, which would have ruined everything, obviously. BUT! Someone was watching out for me, because when I called this place to ask them if the location five minutes away from my house had anything, at any time, in the weekend less than two weeks from that date, I could hear the suppressed laughter in the voice of the lady I was talking to, which was immediately followed by complete surprise when she did, in fact, have an opening in that weekend.

We went to Party City on Friday to buy everything pink that they had. Steve made the cake on Saturday. We picked up pizzas and snacks on Sunday on the way to the party. And that was that.

Brigid had a great time running around with some of her friends for an hour and a half, I didn't have to clean my house before or after having people over, and I got to reuse the pink banner I'd bought for Brigid's birthday last year, because I am a genius for not just throwing it out after the ballerina princess party of age three.

(Brigid would not stop talking about how excited she was to get on the balance beam at this place. She'd been 'practicing' for weeks on the raised part of our fireplace. She's got good form, that kid. I may have to look into gymnastics lessons for her sometime soon...)

(OH! And when she blew out her candles, she wished, again, that mommy could stay home with her every day forever and ever. So. I need to keep working on that.)

Mother of the Year

Any mother who tells you that she DOESN'T grab the camera in moments like this before she goes to rescue her child is either a much, MUCH better mother than I am, or else she's probably lying to you. Because come on...

That's a Kodak moment right there, I swear.

Well, that didn't go quite as planned...

Steve decided earlier this year that Brigid was finally old enough to appreciate a trip to Disney World, and he's been planning the big vacation in secret (from her, anyway...that is way too much for him to plan in secret from me) ever since. And, he (well, he/we) decided that we'd make the big announcement about the upcoming trip to Brigid on her birthday.

So. We took Brigid out to a special birthday dinner at the restaurant of her choice (it's not my fault that the restaurant of her choice happened to be the same one we eat at about once a week), let her open a small range of Disney themed presents, then set her up for the surprise.

'Brigid, you know how we've been talking about taking a trip to Disney World sometime soon? Well, for your birthday, WE'RE TAKING YOU TO DISNEY IN A FEW WEEKS!!'

Nothing.

'Brigid. Disney? You get to meet all of the princesses? Are you excited?'

Nothing. And then...

'Are there any more presents for me to open?'

And the moral of the story is? Brigid won't be on a Disney commercial celebrating her upcoming trip anytime soon, because if it's not something she can unwrap, it's not really a gift that she can fully grasp, apparently.

(Also? She's four. I am not surprised, in the least.)

Four

In four short years, we've gone from this...

...to this...

...to this...

...to this...

...to this.

This kid. She is rotten and overly dramatic and sassy as hell. She fights with me when I ask her to do something that she doesn't want to do. She tells me she doesn't want to clean up her messes because it will be 'too hard' for her to do by herself, even though she had no problem making the mess all on her own. She asks for things over and over again, even after I tell her no. 'Trust me, mommy, I really want a treat!' she'll tell me, not quite getting that I don't doubt she wants whatever it is that she's asking for, but this still doesn't mean she's going to get it. She won't share her toys with her sister. 'This is really super tiny, mommy, I should probably keep it away from Baby Caitlin,' she'll say sweetly, completely disregarding the fact that she was playing with the exact same toy at the exact same age, no matter what I've told her. She ends up in more time-outs than I'd care to admit, following complete meltdowns after I've told her something as mean as 'no, you CAN'T have dinner right now because I haven't made dinner, yet, so you'll have to wait until it is finished. Also, it is only 4PM. Why didn't you eat lunch, you fool?'

I am really very terrible, obviously.

But she also tells me she loves me, completely unprompted. She throws herself into my arms when she's incredibly excited to see me and gives me the biggest bear-hug she can muster. She's named her scooter 'Pasta' because that's what she was eating at the time she was trying to name it. 'I'm going to go ride Pasta, ok mommy?' She gets the biggest, brightest smile on her face when she sees her baby sister in the morning. She talks about all of her friends from school, about the 'new Mia' in her class, which is a different Mia than the 'Mia from her old class'. She loves the new Mia, apparently. She also loves her next-door neighbor Bennett, but for the record, she doesn't want to move in with him anymore because she would miss her mommy and daddy.

She likes to feed the dogs, and help me empty out the dishwasher, and pair her clean socks to be put away. She wants to read to her sister before bed. She loves to find leaves when she's outside to bring back into the house to give to Steve and I. I have a plastic bracelet that I wear every day because she told me to put it on and 'keep it forever and ever.' Who am I to argue with that?

She helps me pick out my lipstick in the morning when I'm getting ready for work. Her preference runs along the pink and shiny side of the spectrum, but I can get a little red out of her every once in awhile.

She is smart and sweet and thoughtful and stubborn and funny and better than anything I could have ever imagined having in my life. She is my Brigid, my favorite Brigid in the whole wide world, and I love her with all of my heart, and then some.

Happy birthday, sweet pea. Thank you for being you.

I need to stop asking her to smile for pictures...

This kid is going to be four tomorrow.

I don't even know how this happened, and I DO NOT APPROVE OF IT AT ALL.

However, whether I approve or not, you're all invited to the party I've decided to throw for her at Bath and Body Works next weekend.

She, uh, has a thing for smelling things, see? She has a thing for smelling EVERYTHING.

And when I changed out the hand soap scent this week? She reacted with a level of excitement I've only ever reserved for Christmas morning. 'Mommy, I touched the toilet seat! I have to wash my hands! I CAN'T WAIT TO USE THE NEW SOAP!!!'

So, I'm going to save myself a couple of hundred dollars on renting a place out where she can have a party with all of her friends, and I'm just going to take her to the mall and let her smell candles and lotions for an hour. She's happy, I'm happy, everyone is happy!

This is going to be the easiest birthday party, EVER.

Climbing Trees

My sweet, goofy little monkeys.

Alternate Title: WHEN DID BRIGID GET SO FREAKING BIG?!?!?!?

(Side Note: Apparently, while we were at the playground Saturday morning, Brigid thought it would be a good idea to climb along the top of a set of curved monkey bars, before losing her balance and falling to the ground. This is not a part of parenthood I want to be a part of, ok? Where can I send them until they start making good decisions for themselves? I need to find that place...)