Snippets and Snappits

I'm so clever with titles.  Or something like that.

I mostly have a series of random, unrelated--except by the real and every day theme--pictures and quotes.  Most of these are duplicates of Instagram, but there are some never-before-seen.  I'd like things in one place for the day I print all this stuff out.

Eddy kept asking me to do things while I was practicing driving on London streets.  Collin, in the passenger seat, reminded him "Eddy, address your questions to me." After a beat Eddy said, "Dad, can you ask mom to change the CD?"

My aunts visited London for a few days after their trip to Paris.  It was fun to have a full flat (we really were at capacity but in a good way!) and explore during the mornings with them.  After several museums in several days even our good sport Eliza was done and showed us the way of things on the floor of the British Museum:

Eddy, after a year and a half in stage one (and a half, as we liked to call it), just today moved up to stage two.  He is thrilled about it and I'm proud of him for continuing to work hard.

Davy used to be the star of these quote sessions.  He's gotten old enough that if he does say something funny he's embarrassed by the attention.  He's cute and clever and we love him loads.  The lack of pictures and center stage time may not prove it, but it's the truth.

 

Eliza has her own opinions about what she wears.  I get it.  That's cool.  She is my daughter after all.  But the past few weeks we've been having fights about what I wear.  I'll come out of the shower and she will have set out my clothes for me to put on.  It was adorable the first few times and she actually chose well enough.  But then she started experimenting and she melted down when I told her I just couldn't wear bike shorts and a sheer decorative over shirt.  Now I think we've compromised and she gets to pick my socks.

I think it's almost time to take out Eliza's afternoon nap.  Which is a shame, because we both still really need it.  She's not settling down to bed until after nine, however, and that's almost worse.  She comes out repeatedly and has absolutely no respect for me or Collin asking her to return.  Last night she was out of bed rummaging quietly around the living room.  I looked up from my work on the computer and saw her wearing dress up clickity clack shoes, sunglasses, and a stethoscope.  I said, tiredly, "go back to bed, Eliza."  She looked at me, surprised that I could say such a thing and replied, "I can't, mom.  I'm a doctor."  And then I laughed and it all went down from there.  I can never hold a straight face around a two year old.

Eliza:  "My favorite is basking ball.  But I can't do the dribbles when I'm a little girl."

Eddy, oh Eddy.  He is always the one reminded many times to stay on track (reminded six times it was time to get dressed for school when I came in to find him half dressed and drawing on the winter window) but finds much more fun in doing his own thing in his own time.  I love that childhood seems to come so easily for him.  He just is a kid and happy to be there.

The closest Eliza Road is several hours drive away in Manchester and we likely won't get there, our itineraries never bringing us near there.  So we decided to just count this Elizabeth Street in London as her street name picture.

Sibling love gets me to my heart strings every time.  Eliza and Eddy are the best buds while Davy is in his football (soccer) class.  It's gotten so good that Eliza will not allow me to help her anywhere but has to have Eddy hold her hand and Eddy push her on the swings and Eddy pull her on the scooter and Eddy play with her.  Eddy is more than happy to oblige.

Her "skirt that Cinderella gave me" gets a lot of good mileage around here.  Also, her favorite color is pink, unless she's wearing blue and then it's blue to match.  The logic of a two year old.  I wish I could always had a two year old around.

London we love you.  Seriously, though.  Davy's already starting to mourn leaving London.  He says things like, "I wish we could have been born here and never have to leave."  And "couldn't we just live here forever?  America is so boring."  And "when I grow up I'm going to live in London and my kids will go to my school and I will never make them leave places they love."

Sibling Love (video)

Man alive, if I were this productive all the time I would succeed at world domination!  Or, at least, household organization.  A long to-do list knocked out and we're ready (as ready as we can) for our travels.  I have one last selection of home movies and outtakes of various projects for those as interested in my kids as I am.  After this recent flood of journaling I may seem to have disappeared.  Never worry!  We'll be back soon with loads of European adventuring to recall.

Letting Kids Be Kids

I've had all these profound thoughts that I wanted to put in writing and illustrate with (what else?!) pictures of my own lovely children.  So I've saved and saved all these hundreds of imperfect, hardly edited photos and now I've just got to get them out, unaccompanied by any remarkable words on my part.  Or perhaps just a few, since this is me.

I set a pretty low expectation for myself and my kids with pictures, even as I know I expect a lot out of them frequently for cooperation of a very boring thing.  As my boys often complain, I'm always only interested in pictures, never about anything else.  One morning when I looked around after our morning chores were done and lo and behold it looked like I'd dressed them in coordinating outfits--though I really and truly didn't!--I called out for everyone to hop up onto my bed where the light comes in nicely from the window.  There I forgot myself and tried to get all three to sit just so and smile at the same time at me.  Of course that didn't work very well, as you'll see.  As I saw their best tries at a mom-approved smile turn into strained grimaces I remembered.  Let them be kids and follow their lead.  They began to wrestle and giggle and interact with all that blissful sibling love.  And my children came alive again.

Eliza at Two

 

I think it's time for a kid-by-kid update.  We've been going dreamy places and doing remarkable things.  But we've also been living life, plain old regular life.  As much as I like the travelogue part of this phase of our lives, my mommy heart mostly wants to remember the littlest things.

So, Eliza.  Fully two and all the fun of this age.  I really really love two.  She's just the most adorable little person.  Even her naughty is adorable.  And she knows it!

She has music in her soul, this one.  Liza constantly has a tune going, singing all day long to herself.  She stops and grooves to whatever music she hears, wherever she may.  You can tell she's got an inner beat by the way her little bum keeps time.

Eliza asks "why" but rarely listens for the reason.

She insists on proper manners.  You say "thank you" and she says "you're welcome."  Or the other way around.  But you can't miss a step.

It took me forever to realize what she meant by "arms up" when getting dressed.  Finally I realized she wanted short sleeves.

We've been in the throes of potty training this summer, one of our three main goals.  The first day she wore big girl undies was June 16.  It clicked for her right away (or, you know, after a few days) and she's had only a handful of accidents since and stays dry most nights.  I have to say, it was so much easier with dresses, familiar to me body parts, and a girl that just gets it.  (Maybe Collin and I were a little more relaxed in general, too.)

Eliza Bee wants to be an all grown up lady.  She has her bag.  She wants to wear a decorative scarf when she sees me put one on.  She insists on some lip gloss and a brush of powder on her nose when I do my make up.  She stays perfectly still for the mani- and pedi- cures she asks for daily.

She sets the table for meals.  She wants her pink dishes and princess cup.  She remembers the preferences of color and superheros of her brothers.

But she's still happy to call herself a baby when it suits.  Her pacifier is still in action for nap and bed time, and during travel.  We'll get around to removing it . . . someday.

She still has dimples in her knuckles and rolls in her thighs and cheeks as soft and round as anything.

She has a little lisp and says the word "yes" with her tongue between her teeth.  I'm in no hurry for that to change.

She is a little mommy to her dolls and bears.  She takes it so seriously, caring for them.

Anything remotely tiny or baby gets a squeezy hug in her arms, even if she's just holding an imaginary version of it.  Her voice changes to a special tone when she talks about babies.

 

One of the phrases she says that she knows will get a laugh every time is, "you say too many words."  There are not enough words to say how much she is loved by all of us.