Free to throw snowballs...

One of the things I have been working on as a mother is giving my kids a bit more independence. I'm sometimes the type that, if it were more socially acceptable, would wrap my kids in bubble wrap, keep them locked in the basement, and make them wear football helmets even when sleeping. This is a tendency I spend a lot of time fighting back, and because of it, I am occasionally smacked in the face with the realization of what precisely my kids can do, beyond my expectations.

Case in point: with this baby, I have mentioned I was sick. Much of my first trimester was spent losing weight, thanks to my inability to stomach the mere thought of food, much less eat it without it coming up. Most of my mornings were spent laying in bed or on the couch, mustering the courage to face my work day. Other times, I would drag myself around, attempting to play with the kids or get things done. Lucky for me, it turns out that Squirrel is quite the domestic assistant. Thanks to my illness, I learned that she can (and actually loves to!): pour cereal and milk for her and Little Bird; make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; start a movie; pick out everyone's clothes for the day; empty (some of) the dishwasher; and make the beds.

In most cases, letting her do these things usually left me feeling like a colossal failure (like when, at 22 weeks, I was throwing up again and laid in bed, and she said, "I'm sorry mama. I should have made us breakfast this morning, but I forgot." The kid still says "breffast" and is apologizing that she didn't feed her 4 year old self and 3 year old brother?!? Epic mommy-fail!), but I have also realized that she and Little Bird take a great deal of pride in doing things on their own. He is learning to use the potty and dress himself, and Squirrel is his biggest cheerleader and advisor (going so far as to demonstrate step-by-step in the bathroom how to get it done). When she makes a PB&J, or he puts his shirt on the right way, they positively GLOW with pride, and not even because I celebrate with them; there is a genuine and deep sense of accomplishment at doing something on their own. 

So...I am trying to give them a bit of independence.

We haven't had a whole lot of snow this year, actually a remarkably small amount, as I previously mentioned. But in the last month and a half or so, we've been getting the occasional fluff. And so yesterday, my kids asked if they could go out and play in it. And Squirrel specifically asked if they could go out *alone.* Generally, my immediate response would be to say no and distract them with a fun game where they would be locked up tight in my over-vigilant sight. This time, I reminded myself that I didn't have a good reason for saying no, and that they had been showing me how much they could do. So I set some ground rules and let them loose.

Mostly they stomped around, kicked the snow, and puddle jumped. Then they hung upside down on the banisters over the concrete steps (insert image of me picturing their brains spilled everywhere and literally biting my tongue to keep from hollering at them to stop...they totally survived AND still have all their brains in their heads!).

Then Squirrel got an idea. You can see it forming here...

And the approach here...

She pummeled her little brother with a snowball. 

He, in turn, came running to the door where I had just started taking pictures, near tears, to tattle. 

"Mommy! Sister frowed a snowball at me!"

Ordinarily, I would have probably given him a kiss, reprimanded his sister, 

and said it was time to come in. 

This time, I stopped to think, and then I said:

"Well, I guess you better throw one back at her!"

His expression immediately changed to pure mischief, and he was off to retaliate. 

And then came one of my favorite scenes thus far in the year: 

They had so. much. FUN. They both threw snow until they were out of breath. No tears, just laughter. No fights, just fun. And when they looked exhausted, I invited them in for hot chocolate. 

They were so proud of their outdoor play "alone."

Today Squirrel, wide eyed with excitement, said, "Mom. Remember that time you let me and brother have a snowball fight outside...all by OURSELVES???"

Yep, I remembered.

"That was really fun."

Note to self: a little freedom goes a long way. 

Maybe I'll let Squirrel make me breakfast in bed tomorrow...scrambled eggs, and hold the guilt. ;) 

A "fairy nice" birthday present

For my birthday, Rob took the kids to the dollar store to pick out presents for me.

While he says he reminded the kids extensively that the presents were for Mommy, their interpretation of my interests was somewhat different than my own.

Little Bird got me a package of Cars candy. Which he promptly ate most of. (I was cool with that...they were really gross!)

Squirrel bought me a lovely fairy play doll which she named Fairy Dust. (I have to say though, her selection was kind of brilliant, because now every time she starts to play with her princess dolls, she remembers Fairy Dust and I am suddenly expected to play along, rather than passively observe. Clever girl, this one...)

The best part of Fairy Dust is that she is a little unique.

When we opened her up, we realized she only had one shoe.
Eh, no big deal. I mean, for a dollar, can you really expect a complete collection of accessories 100% of the time?

And then I realized why she only had one shoe...a practical solution to her other issues. 

It seems Fairy Dust is missing more than just a shoe. 

At first I thought Squirrel wouldn't notice, but of course she quickly did. 

I told her Fairy Dust had a "little foot"; just like Nemo has a "little fin."

She seemed to take that just fine. 

The best part, was later as she was playing with Fairy Dust and the Princess Barbies, I heard her telling the Princesses that Fairy Dust was special, to be nice to her, and that her "little foot" helped her fly and land on flowers, and that was why Fairy Dust is the best fairy. EVER. 

And that is why I am pretty sure I have the best daughter. 

EVER.  

The rest of Disneyland...

Phew! I am done checking in all 209 of my new boys. They are super fun and enthusiastic. But now that check-ins and our welcome meeting are over, I am looking a little more forward to the slow life.

I have to admit, there were a few times I teared up while visiting Disney, whether it was while seeing the joy on my kids' faces as we watched the parades go by, or the excitement of getting their "1st Visit" pins. As silly as it may sound, there is something so wonderful about seeing your kids experience what they see as magic, and experience pure delight. Here are some of my favorite photos from our trip. I am sure there are way more than there ought to be, but I hope you enjoy!

Our beach trip day one:

Can you tell who her best friend in the world is?

{Lemonade for Sale!}

Since summer began, and even long before, Squirrel has been asking if she can "make a lemon stand." She plays lemonade stand often. A couple weeks ago, on our way out to the nursery to get seed potatoes, we passed a yard sale where they had this little beauty for sale. We could hardly say no to such an adorable bargain, and Squirrel was over the moon. In fact, when we realized it wouldn't fit into Rob's car, we made arrangements to come back for it with the van, and she started to sob. It took us a minute, but we realized she was devastated because she thought we had decided not to get it, and her little heart had broken at such a prospect. We calmed her down, and did return. 

Now, she likes to roll the stand to the sidewalk and peddle her goods. Usually the price is different for every person, and often it's just free, but somehow, she still manages to earn a few coins for her piggy bank! 

{My little mutton buster!}

Okay, admittedly, for someone who loves animals and animal welfare as much as I do, I shouldn't love the rodeo. But I do. It's nostalgic for me (Rob and my first's date was to the rodeo in Lexington, VA). But there is more to it than that. Watching those girls and their horses race around those barrels, seeing a cowboy jump from the back of a bronc to another, seeing those lassos fly out and catch a calf...there is just something so rustic and deeply American about the rodeo. I can't help it. I love the rodeo.

Last year, Squirrel saw the mutton bustin' at the rodeo and kept asking when it was her turn to ride a sheep. We told her maybe next year, and I'll be darned if that girl didn't remember. A few weeks away from the fourth, she started asking if she'd get to ride a sheep this year, so Daddy started practicing with her.



Rob already has the habit of giving the kids a "horse ride" to bed every night--he walks the long trail from the living room to their beds on his hands and knees after prayers. So when mutton bustin' came up, he decided he could add that to his repertoire--each night, the kids got on his back and bucked around until they went flying. He even trained Squirrel to lean forward and would take off at high speeds to see if he could toss her. (He even has what may turn out to be permanent rug burns to prove it!)

When the big day finally came, Squirrel was as excited as could be to go "Mustin' Button," as she calls it. So, off she went to the chutes at the start of the rodeo in her jeans and t-shirt, her bike helmet in one hand, and daddy's hand in the other. A few minutes later, the event began.

Let me insert here that although I have seen the Mutton Bustin' event on several occasions, this was my first time seeing it, knowing that my daughter, my precious 4 year old, would also be IN the event. I don't think the sheep had ever shot out of those chutes as fast as they did at this rodeo.

As the kids kept coming out, each one bigger than she, in their bonafide chaps, vests, and western hats, each shot out like a rocket and flew off those sheep at speeds fast enough to make a mother's heart stop beating. I thought, as one little cowboy got dumped by a sheep that proceeded to jump, literally, 8 feet in the air (!!!), "Oh my gosh...these kids have grown UP doing this and are flying off these sheep!" I tried calling Rob to get him to back out, but it was too late. I could see them in the chutes, loading up my sweet baby...

On the other side of the arena, I have since been told, Squirrel was all business. Rob tells me that when her sheep would bleat at her, she would look him squarely in the eye, point a finger and "Baa-aa" right back. She was the boss, ready to put to good use all that training. She was lowered onto that sheep, leaned forward, and the gate was opened.

If not for the video, I don't think I would remember what happened. All I knew is that Squirrel came careening out of the chute on a sheep that must have thought he was being chased by the devil himself. The crowd went wild, and I heard remarks like, "Look at her go!" and, "Oh my! She is so little!" The sheep steered her right into the loose herd where she finally made a dismount (graceful or not, I can't say, as I couldn't see). The rodeo clown ran to pick her up and lifted her for the crowd to see. My heart quit racing when I heard the announcer say, as he did after just about every ride in every event, "She's all right. She's just fine."

She was one of only three or four kids (out of 15) who managed to ride the whole eight seconds (though in mutton bustin' all the kids get scores), and she scored a 91, just one point below the buckeroo who took first (and apparently regularly rides a sheep named "Millie" at home). She was presented with a trophy half as tall as she is, a gift card to the local feed store, a one dollar bill, and a roll of smarties. When all this was presented to her, she, in typical Squirrel fashion, said, "Ooooh! CANDY!"

She spent most of the rest of the evening taking pictures of her trophy (nearly all the pictures in this thread are actually hers, since I could scarcely get the camera back from her).

And when I asked her if she wanted to do it again next year, she informed me, "No. I think I would like to race a giraffe at the next rodeo."

THOSE will be some good photos, and in spite of myself, that's one rodeo ride I'd love to see!