Vita Familiae

So at around ten o'clock this morning, I found myself at the computer, doing a little research.

Google.com. Enter.

typing My child ate a snail. Enter.

And then I thought, oh, I have to put this on the blog. Because won't it be funny to see how many times that search query shows up on my stat counter?

And then I realized that I have a terrible, terrible problem and perhaps I need to delete the blog right now. Or at the very least, take a time out.

At any rate, Ellen ate a snail. Or half of one. She brought me the remainders (freshly removed from her mouth) and placed them in my hand. I know it was a snail only because I know for a fact that Adam had one in the house earlier. He was supposed to take it right back outside where it belonged, but he dropped it, lost track of it, and wandered around the playroom looking for it for, oh, about three and a half seconds before he lost interest and picked up his sword and Zorro mask.

Allow me to reassure you that it was a very small snail. I think she mostly ate shell. She is, after all, cutting a molar.

I did have a brief second of motherly panic. But I remembered that snails are considered a delicacy. So she's really just very refined for her age. Then I started wondering if the snail needed to be cooked first. Maybe she could get e.coli from eating under-cooked/raw snail. So I did my research. And found absolutely nothing about anybody's kid eating a snail.

Which would make me the first mother to ever admit it to the entire internet.

Alright, people. Show of hands. I know there are more of you out there. What sort of outdoor creature has YOUR kid eaten?

p.s. I did end up calling the pediatrician. She laughed at me and said to keep an eye on her diapers. I'm pretty sure they just say that to make us feel like there's something we can do.

p.p.s. The blog may disappear on and off this weekend. Never fear. I won't delete the blog. We're going through some "renovation" at Vitafam, but hopefully by Monday, we will be coming to you from a new location and with a fresh new look. See you then!

Posted by LoraLynn on May 16, 2008 3:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So last week, before all the potty excitement, we were doing our usual preschool stuff. We spent the week talking about various countries and how children lived very differently there. We talked about China and the boys learned that they eat lots of rice and use chopsticks. We talked about Africa and watched lots of videos of the Masai tribe dancing on YouTube. I think the biggest lesson the boys learned about Africa was that they usually don't wear shoes over there. I know, I know, my culturally sensitive children are a wonder, aren't they?

Anyway, another day, I pulled out pictures of my mission trip to Albania when I was fifteen. I told them Mommy went there when she was "little." The very first thing Ian said when he saw me was, "You not little, Mommy. You big."

Fine. I was little-er (by about fifteen pounds.) Whatever.

We looked at the pictures over and over again. They were fascinated. And then came the questions...

"Mommy, who took care of me while you in Albania?"

While I tried to explain that I didn't have any children then, Ian was already leaping to the next question.

"But, you left me! Why you leave me?"

"Honey, I didn't leave you. You weren't born yet. I didn't even know your daddy then."

This fact was completely lost on him.

"I not born? But who was watching me?"

I took the easiest route I knew and told him he was in heaven and God was watching over him.

"You left me in heaven? With God?"

"Well, sort of. That's where you were waiting to meet me."

"And He took care of me? With the angels?"

"Uh, sure."

And then his big brown eyes filled with tears...

"But, you left me, Mommy. Why you leave me?"

Apparently, not even God qualified as an appropriate baby-sitter for my non-existent son. I suppose it is comforting to know that, in Ian's eyes anyway, NOBODY can do my job like I can.

Unless of course he's visiting a grandparent... Then all bets are off.

Posted by LoraLynn on May 15, 2008 4:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

So the twins are taking a bit of a vay-cay this week. They're down in Auburn visiting all the family there. And they miss us terribly. Well, no, not really. I don't believe they've really noticed I left them.

Adam and Ellen came home with me and we're having us a potty training boot camp. For Adam, not Ellen. I potty trained two at a time before, I've got that badge and am no longer interested in earning another. Amen. At any rate, I have the distinct advantage this time because Adam has been watching his brothers in action with the potty stuff. He knows what goes where. He knows the drill. But have we mentioned he is our strong-willed child? And obstinate?

So what we're searching for now is motivation. The day we came back home from dropping Sam and Ian off, Adam was highly motivated. He became convinced that if he would just tee-tee in the potty, I would take him back to Grampaw's house. After three great "victories" in the potty, he was very perturbed when he realized we were not all getting back in the car to return him to his brothers. After that, his motivation dropped and so did his success rate.

Since we're all having such "sibling separation anxiety," we tend to wander around the house aimlessly. To combat this, Adam has taken to being Zorro, all day long. (Nobody to fight over the masks and cape with doesn't hurt.) We've alternated between Zorro sword-fighting and Zorro learning about the wonders of "Noggin" on television. He's watched more TV in a day and a half than in his entire life. He wants me right by his side on the floor. We potty every half hour or so, so this isn't a bad arrangement. Last night, my hips hurt so bad from being on the floor all day. But we've read and we've laughed and we've talked and we've celebrated the victories. So it hasn't been so bad.

Ellen has loved all this. She's had her mommy on the floor all day, to help her practice her walking. (Which is getting better, I might add.) And her big brother suddenly pays much more attention to her. They've really enjoyed playing together. Here's one of my favorite pictures from the day.

Yesterday morning, before we started the training in earnest, I gave Adam and Ellen a bath. Adam usually showers with his brothers, and Ellen has never had company in the tub, so this was a new thing. They were both playing well, so I sat on the floor, leaned my back against the wall, and rested my eyes. When I opened them, I noticed the water was "cloudy." That's right, after four kids, one of them finally got me with the old "poop in the tub" trick. Ellen was the culprit. I yanked everyone out of the water. Sanitized the tub. Then put them back in and started over. Big fun. Miss Priss is getting a back molar through and keeps us informed on her progress via her bowels. It's all very exciting.

And I suppose that's about all the bodily function stories I can throw at you in one sitting. It's very surreal being here with only two children. Two children who go to bed when they're told. Who don't care if we don't really eat dinner. And who are just basking in all the attention. It's a very special week here. With the exception of the poop. I could do without the poop...

Posted by LoraLynn on May 14, 2008 3:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

Basically, I'm writing this post to let you know that there will be no post. I've got the makings of one in my head, but we got all wrapped up in messing with our new blog design and now it's time for bed. I will try to post in the morning about the twins going on vacation, potty-training Adam, and poop drama. You don't want to miss it. Really. And check back soon for a brand spanking new look to Vitafam. But in the meantime, my OCD can now go to sleep in peace knowing that you have all heard... well, basically nothing, from little ol' me. 'Nite, ya'll.

Posted by LoraLynn on May 14, 2008 4:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I remember the days back when I just had three boys. I would watch my girlfriends who had girls bring their little darlings to playdates dressed to the nines. Their faces would be clean, the dress would match the shoes, and there was always some sort of bow or frilly thing in the hair to complete the ensemble (to be read with a French accent, of course). This all made me laugh. Because, my boys? I gave up keeping their faces clean at birth. They got one pair of shoes per season. Two if they needed extra for church. But TWO was the max. And I buzzed their hair (including their father's) so I could spend more money on my own troublesome coiffure. (Look! More French! It's like I went all multi-cultural on ya'll, isn't it?)

At any rate, the whole thing bemused me. Not that these little pixies weren't just darling. Because they were. But I couldn't see the point.

And then... along came Ellen. I believe I've told you all before that whatever clothing I had for her when she came home from the hospital had to be replaced if it wasn't pink. PINK. I needed girly. I needed ruffles. I needed floral prints. It was a long, hard fall for this prideful mama, mes amis.

And, no. This does not improve with time. I like to think that I'm practical about things. She doesn't have TOO many clothes. We have some grubby clothes to crawl around in. And she only has four pairs of shoes to her brothers' two, which I think is reasonable. A girl has to match. It all has to work together: the shoes, the clothes, etc.

And, oh yes, the hair. I was not a bow-headed child in my early days. I became one around fourth grade, I believe, but I assume it was peer pressure rather than some innate sense for fashion. And my search for bows for Ellen began with a desire to get her bangs out of her eyes. This little "search" got a bit out of hand. We now have sweet little bows all over the place, as well as some barrettes, her own special brush, and lots of little bitty rubber bands.

There are so many days when I look at the rooster comb on top of her head and get frustrated when I don't know what to do with it. My latest attempt has been to put it up in a "fountain" right on top of her head. Add bow, will travel.

Last Saturday, I got creative. I split the "fountain" and went for mini-pigtails. I kept her curls going in the back (they're just so sweet, you see), but I gave her two little pigtails right on top of her head. And then I added pink barrettes, because I have a serious problem, that's why.

That little hairstyle made my entire day. Hands down. And you just knew I would share it with you, didn't you? Here she is, drinking her morning milk (refused to take it out of her mouth, even for the camera) and sporting a sassy little 'do.

Nobody told me that all this time, those mamas were dressing their little girl babies up for THEMSELVES, not the child. Said child could care less. But, oh, it does my mama heart some good to see her bopping around all sweet and "did-up." Next time, somebody had better warn me.

And then, perhaps, it would be wise to hide all the barrettes in the country. Because this bow and hair thing? J'adore, people. J'adore.

Posted by LoraLynn on May 13, 2008 9:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

In typical Vitafam fashion, we tried to take a few pictures of everyone all "did up" for church this morning on Mother's Day. Some of you probably don't know that we really have children, seeing how they tend to appear as blurry images onscreen. My photography skills combined with their wiggles make for not-so-great pictures. I'm putting up the best of what was really a dismal attempt. And since I'm feeling indecisive, you're going to be forced to look at several mediocre photos, rather than one or two really great ones. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise. I've got a goody that I'm squirreling away for Monday. Hee. Oh, and Gran was with us this morning, but none of the pictures of her turned out. We were happy to have her with us, all the same!

Caution: Images In Photos are Just As Blurry As They Appear. Do not attempt to adjust your screen.

And, can I just say in my defense, we were up until three o'clock with tornado warnings and such? Which could be why I look, well, frizzy? I don't know what the relationship is between being tired and the nature of my hair, but there ought to be some sort of connection. Maybe my hair serves as a sort of a mood indicator. Like a mood ring.

At any rate, hope you all had a sweet and restful Mother's Day. Emphasis on restful.
Lots of love to all the mamas out there...

Posted by LoraLynn on May 12, 2008 1:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

We've got comp'ny. Last night we had dinner guests who stayed late. Real late. I fell asleep on the couch and snored and twitched. Because I channel Martha Stewart when I host...

Now Gran and Pops are here for a weekend of grandkids and bedlam. Not necessarily in that order.

But I would like to say this: did you know that if you're making macaroni and cheese for the kids for dinner, and you go to shake the package of processed powder cheese, it IS possible to shake too hard and have the top tear off, sending cheese powder flying onto your newly mopped floor? And, did you know that powder cheese is fine, fine powder that will stay in between your toes, on your sandals, and in the cracks of your floors? Forever?

Well, now you do.

Posted by LoraLynn on May 9, 2008 3:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)