Blue

Happy Birthday Son

Today is a blessed and wonderful day in our house. Alexander has just turned eight. True to his determined character and the precise nature of his observations, he would not let anyone wish him a 'Happy Birthday' until 5:45 pm, the exact time he was born. We counted down the minutes - the board in the picture above is ready to greet him as he gets home from school. Usually I list the kids' chores and activities on the chalkboard, which they dutifully check off one by one, but as you see today was a "no chore" day. It's snowing now as I post this. Looks like the kids will get to sled in the morning.

I have big thick ribeyes to grill, a fire is crackling, sparkling cider is flowing, and it's time to open presents. Oh to be eight again, and have that sense of wondrous anticipation! I spent nearly three hours in Target with Alex this week, slowly checking out the various toys and Lego sets. I sat down on the floor with him and we inspected the big boxes, reading the details of what figures were included and what land speeder and turbo lasers came with the one 'big thing' he wanted.

I think it was my favorite few hours this week. The girls bounced around looking at the various toys, each coming by every 30 seconds with some new treasure they wanted to get for their brother. Alex and I sat studying the fine print on the boxes and discussing what was cooler, what was a better deal, what would be the most fun to play with.

He brought me over to one box and said in his clear, calm voice that he thought this was something that Santa Claus would have to 'maybe' bring him, since it was such a big present. I nodded and agreed that it was indeed expensive and that it probably would be something we would have to write to Santa about next December.

But I pulled it off the shelf and we sat on the floor and inspected the stats, admired the design and discussed the merits of what was included. I then set the box back on the shelf, stood up, ruffled his hair and we all walked out. Everyone was chattering about what they saw.

I dropped the kids off at my moms so I could go play soccer, then drove back up the highway to the Super Target and got the one thing he most wanted.

Sister & Brother

We come to a milestone this week and it's hard to believe how quickly the months fly by. I remember a time when I used to measure my children's ages by weeks ~ and now I note them by years.

My youngest beasties are nearly inseparable. Inside, outside, reading, drawing, playing imaginary games, eating, brushing teeth, it doesn't matter what the activity: at all times they are to be found together.

It is like there is an invisible cord that stretches between them, and it doesn't allow one to get too far from the other. I honestly do not know how they survive the school day, separated by half a school of bricks and mortar. But once they're back on the bus they are back together, and when they walk in the front door after school they are side by side.

I am very proud that they are so close - I have insisted that all three show kindness, love and respect for each other. I tell them over and over that they will never have best friends as dear and close and loyal and protective as their brothers and sisters.

That also means I don't put up with whining,complaining, nagging, tale-telling, or any of the other normal sibling grousing - I set the bar very high when it comes to their behaviour. While this oftentimes casts me in the role of the 'bad guy' as I clamp down on infractions, or harp over and over on the way we should diplomatically solve problems, or how we nicely ask for things, or have conversations like:

Older girl to boy in horrified voice: "No don't touch that!"

Me to girl, "Is there any possible way in the world that your brother could harm that toy?"

Two second pause while girl considers how to explain her instant aversion to having anything belonging to her touched by her brother under any circumstances, but also appease dad's insistence on sharing everything, factoring in the fact that the toy in question is a 50 cent Beanz thing that could probably be rolled over by a tank and survive intact. 

"Yes," she blinks at me seriously. "He could drop it on the granite counter and it could break."

My eyes grow wide in amusement and half-serious consternation. "In which case I'll buy you another packet of Beanz for three bucks."

Slightly defeated: "Okay."

Boy reaches for toy again with lightning speed. "And you must *ask* first." His hand hovers just over the toy. "Nicely," I add with emphasis.

"Can I please see your green guy?"

"And give it back after a reasonable time or when she asks." I look to her and add, "Nicely."

Even though I sometimes feel like I'm saying the same things over and over and insisting on decorum every fifteen seconds - it pays off in the long run. There is peace in the house, and they really are quite remarkably nice to each other.

I just go a little crazy in the process.

Pink

My little one was thrilled when I finally finished the last round of sanding and lacquering her shelves. All her treasured things have made their way out of the boxes and baskets. All her dolls are proudly displayed in the doll cabinet and all the stuffed animals have a home on the shelves. Her desk is full of etch-a-sketch tablets, a cash register, Mazie Mouse, Elmo, a treasure box, puzzle clock, and her sketch books. 

Doll beds are tucked under the desk, and a secondary desk slides out to give her more room to keep puzzles going when she's not quite finished, or to have a tea party.

The doll cabinet was once used by her mother and has been refurbished and painted a deeper glossy shade of pink to go with the pink ceiling, walls. It is lit from within and looks really pretty at night.

There are strings of glass square beads that hang in her doorway that tinkle nicely when she comes and goes. They are a very good indicator of what she is up to when I am downstairs.

Her bed fits in nicely with the natural wood feel, and the whole room has a rosy glow to it.