It’s been a while since I actually got around to musing on the blog.  I planned on writing a 2016 goals post this month…until I realized wow, my goals are pretty much the same as they were in 2015.  Minus needing to keep up with Facebook and plus fitting back into my jeans.

Which is there even a point to mentioning this?  Three babies in four years…it’s kind of the goal that never dies, yunno?

So I thought you might like a rambling, newsy post on my children instead.



Alright.  Well.  In May we had a baby (you can read all about that here.)  She’s really cute and she was taking a nap during this PB & J sesh, but she’ll have a photo shoot of her own coming up soon.  So don’t worry, I’ll overload you with thigh rolls later.  She is eight months old and my goodness, I may nuzzle and sniff that round little head up to eighty-seven times a day.  She’s not the best birth control.


She loves to be with her sisters.  Right in the middle of the action at all times.  And there is a lot of action around here.  Toppled over princess tents and wig fights, but action nonetheless.  She says “mama” clear as a bell when I walk in the room and loves eating bits of carpet and pureed sweet potatoes.  She is the very happiest in sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor or when I set her in the girl’s bedroom while they play tea party and walk away. (It’s a little game we like to play called “babysitting.”)

Oh.  The wrist rolls.  Those are everything.  Except for maybe the finger dimples.  Those might be even everything-ier.




K.K. will turn five in May and I don’t know but this child just enjoys life.  Everything is funny.  Or fun.  Or giant.  Her favorite form of mischief is to pester people…or what David calls “being pesterly.”

I can’t think of a better word to describe it, really.  It could range from anything to absconding with Libby’s toy unicorn to carefully tying the strings of my blinds up into some kind of bundle of senseless knots that takes someone sixty minutes to unravel.  Or just tapping the top of Libby’s head and running away until she shrieks. Because worth it, you know?




The left side of her hair still refuses to grow at the same rate as the right side, necessitating a bob this summer.  Which she loved because her favorite princess is Rapunzel (ironically).  A princess whose hair gets chopped into a bob at the end of the movie, which I do thank Disney for.  To all the people who told me to just let it mullet out and it would catch up by the time she was three, we’re shooting for six, I’m thinking.



Liberty is turning three next month.  This dear child.  She’s motherly and nurturing and going through this stage (please, baby Jesus, let this be a stage) that goes like this:

“Mama..mamaaaa…mama? MAAAAMAAAA.”

“Yes, Libby.”

“I need to talk to you.  I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.”


“I want to share cookies with my friends on my birthday.”  (Or insert something equally as urgent, such as “A baby stick was in my boot.”)

“Is that all?”


“Okay, thanks.  I’m getting back into the shower now.”



Seeing her personality emerge, I can completely understand why she was the baby that she was.  The cry that says “I’m projectile vomiting at 2 am” sounds about the same as the one that says “My unicorn fell behind the couch.”  Which explains so much about her first two years of life. So much.

My favorite right now is that she mixes up the terms “because” and “that’s why.”  So if you ask her why she is all dirty, instead of saying “Because we made mud pies,”  she’ll say “That’s why we made mud pies.”


As sisterhood goes, play hard fight hard, that about sums life up right now.  Headwear always.  Crown or wig, depends on the week, really.

You know, crown confiscation turns out to be an extremely effective parenting tool.  You might want to try it one Sunday afternoon when you are at your wits end and have run out of gummy bears to bribe with.


As opposite as they are, they are also inseparable.

Well, you can separate them.  But there will be pain involved (more for the separator, really).


Whenever one of them walks out of the room without the other, Lord have mercy, the screeching.  You think something terrible happened, like maybe one bludgeoned the other with a plastic tea kettle full of D batteries, right?  No.  It is because “BUT NOBODY IS WITH ME.”

Or, similarly:  “BUT THEN I WON’T HAVE A FRIEND.”

(So you can see why we’re really working on the concept of we use the bathroom in private.)

Don’t try to suggest they dress in unmatching outfits for church either.  Because “BUT THEN WE WON’T MATCH.”


Could there be anything more depressing than not matching with your sister when you go out in public?

I don’t even try to reason with this.  It secretly makes my heart soar to the mountaintops.


And pine to have six more little girls.



By the way, going totally off topic here…you guys probably noticed that a few months ago I unfollowed EVERYONE on Instagram.  If you find me re-following you, it’s because I’ve slowly started following people that I interact with regularly on Instagram.  Thanks for not being offended that I unplugged for a while.  In the words of Libby…”that’s why we’re friends”

Happy January! 🙂