Adam the Six-Year-Old

Adam, you are six now.  Your dad and I cannot believe what a year of unbelievable change this has been for you.  You have come into your own in so many ways, and you make us laugh with your funny little mannerisms and sayings.  You are growing so fast that Andrew is getting nervous.  You are learning to read.  You can make the  /l/ sound (when you want to -- we still have to remind you to do it!) (And I have to admit that I will miss you calling your wittle sister Wibby even though I know we couldn't have wet you go through wife wike that.)  You have all sorts of quirky little interests that absolutely delight me and choke me up all at once.  So, before I tell you "Happy Birthday," I want to capture in print the things that captivate you right now as you turn six:

• Goons
• Wallets
• Rednose the Reindeer
• State and World Flags
• Clubs
• Cutting the Cheese (sigh)
• All Things Chocolate
• Legos
• Anything Andrew's Doing
• Cleaning Your Room Very Late at Night After Your Father and I Thought You Long Asleep
• Making Lists (I Wonder Where You Get That)

Happy, happy birthday to our precious wittle little Adam.

Jophes and the "Wise" Man

This morning was the annual children's Christmas program at our church.  Every year the kids dress up as characters from the Nativity and sing Christmas songs.  This year Andrew was excited to have been cast in the role of "Jophes."  (For some reason none of the children in this home can say "Joseph."  They all say "Jophes."  We try over and over to get them to say it correctly until we are ready to pull out our hair just go with it.)

Adam was originally supposed to be a shepherd.  However, this morning they came up one wise man short, so the honor fell to Adam.

He got to wear an awesome crown.

Which proved a little tricky.

Here they are:  Jophes, Mary, and the "Wise" Man.

Unfortunately this morning Libby woke up covered in an alarming-looking rash, so we ended up at the pediatrician's and had to miss church.  So sad.  But L's rash turned out to be crazy hives brought on by the double ear infection we had no idea she had.  Her consolation prize for missing the Christmas program was winning the morning record for diagnoses circled on her checkout sheet at the doctor's, according to the receptionist who checked us out.  Score!  Wait a minute...

Happy Birthday, Quacky!

Dear Andrew (or should we say, “Quacky”?),

Eight years ago we were so very eager to meet our new baby.  We didn’t know if you would be a boy or a girl, so there was a lot of suspense!  Finally, on a dark November night, you were born…and we had a little boy!  Our Andrew.

But before very many days at all had passed, you had another name!  You see, during the months we were waiting for you to arrive, our family and friends brought us many baby gifts.  Since they didn’t know whether our baby would wear blue or pink, they brought yellow --  lots of yellow – so either a baby boy or a baby girl could wear it.  And do you know what cute baby animals are yellow?  Yep.  Ducks.  So pretty much all the sweet little baby clothes that were waiting for you had ducks on them.

One of the little outfits was a white terrycloth pair of pajamas with a (yes, you guessed it!) DUCK on it.  Underneath the duck were written the words “Quack Quack.”  Original, right?

May we mention another thing here?  You cried.  A lot.  For about six weeks solid. 

So, anyway, when Mom would dress you or change you or play with you, you would cry (because that’s sort of all you did for a while there!)  And you would be wearing your little “Quack Quack” outfit, and Mom would say, “Oh, quack, quack, quack, is my little Quacky quacking?” 

Moms say silly things sometimes when they have new babies.

Pretty soon Mom was calling you “Quacky” as much as she called you “Andrew”!  And that’s how you got your nickname.

So, fast forward eight years.  The good news?  You stopped all the crying.  The bad news?  You won’t let us buy you clothes with ducks on them anymore.

We still can’t believe how that tiny little baby we brought home eight years ago has grown and changed.  We are so proud of all that you are and all that you are becoming.  You are your dad’s best buddy.  You are your mom’s heart.  You are your little brother’s hero (even if he doesn’t realize it yet).  You are your little sister’s prince (because, you know, she thinks all the princes are the princesses’ brothers). You are funny and bright and full of promise. We are excited to see what God has in store for your life.

But no matter how big you get or where you go in life, remember this, Andrew:  You will always be our little Quacky.

Love,

Mom and Dad

What Andrew's Been Reading Lately (Or, Why I Almost Had a Heart Attack When I Looked on His Nightstand)

What I saw at first glance:

After experiencing some initial shortness of breath, I thought, "Wait.  This is Andrew," and moved the noisemaker to reveal:

...A very poorly titled page about red-footed boobies (birds!) in National Geographic Kids magazine.  Some editor clearly didn't think this through.

The Wallet

One of Steve's old wallets has been flying around here for the longest time.  He gave it to the boys to play with forever ago, and it just got absorbed into the toy jungle and forgotten.

Until recently.

Adam re-discovered the wallet last week and claimed it as his own.  Since then he has carried it with him everywhere and has made sure that it contains all the things a wallet should.

You know, like an expired Kohl's discount card.

And a card he made me write "rednose reindeer" on. (He would not let me write "rednosed" with a "d."  It had to be "rednose.")

A picture of the Mario Bros.

And, of course, an identification card.  Adam was very sad that he didn't have a Ranger Rick membership card like his big brother Andrew.  So Steve made him a (laminated!) Avengers ID card for his wallet.  And Adam could not be happier.

My favorite story about the wallet?  Steve took the kids Christmas shopping for me the other night.  Apparently when they all got to the checkout counter, Adam very solemnly whipped out his wallet, pulled the "Rednose Reindeer" card out, and tried to pay for my gifts with it.

Turns out that a "Rednose Reindeer" card is not accepted as currency at that particular establishment.  That's OK.  They just don't know its real worth.

The Big Dig 2011

So...it's been a while since I've updated the family journal.  It's not that we haven't had anything going on.  Au contraire.  So far I've missed a home improvement entry, a birthday entry, a Thanksgiving program entry, and a major holiday entry.  Why?  Well, the whole "3 kids in 3 different schools" thing has turned out to be a bit bonkers.  Definitely worth the sacrifices -- not complaining -- just bonkers.  (Please, please...pray with us that Adam will get  into Andrew's school next year.) 

Furthermore, we're deep in the heart of birthday/big holiday season around here.  Always a crazy time.  And I am even behind in that because...

Finally, after a year of being completely confounded by all the little loops that previously all looked exactly the same and HOW CAN ANYONE POSSIBLY DO THIS?, I have finally unlocked the secret to crochet.  And my inner 80-year-old is having a field day. She refuses to put down the yarn and crochet hook and get off the couch to do anything.  She does not care if the family blog is updated or not.  She can wait till another time to do frivolous things like "laundry" and "dusting."  She doesn't even really care if the kids' faces *might* look a little dirty.  But I've had a stern talk with her about putting down her crochet and moving over to make room for 37-year-old mommy.  So, before I go give Libby's face a quick swipe with a soapy washcloth, I give you "The Big Dig 2011."

For quite some time Steve has been wanting to add a little brick walkway up the side of the drive.  After thoroughly researching the project, it was time to begin.  He began by digging out the area to be paved.  Soon, he was joined by little helpers.  Lots of little helpers. At one point he had six boys from our street out helping him dig.  Sadly, the only picture I got of this was on my phone, and I am too technologically impaired to figure out how to upload it.  But here are Steve and our boys toward the end of Phase Dig:

After laying gravel and sand and tamping, smoothing, and leveling the whole mess, it was time to lay the bricks:

A little more sand, and voila! The finished product:

The boys could not have been more thrilled to be part of the project, and we could not be more thrilled that they were actually quite helpful!

Stay tuned for the next installment of Pirates and Petunias, coming soon:  "Andrew's Birthday." 

And somebody, please...hide my yarn bag.



Wee Wee Wee

Setting:  The minivan.  Libby is crying over something random.

Steve (trying to use reverse psychology to make her stop):  Libby, can you cry all the way home?

Libby:  NO!

Steve:  Why not?

Libby:  Because I'm NOT a little piggy!