4th Child Syndrome

There's a saying that with each kid, you do things differently. You know, there are less pictures taken of each child. (Although I'm not sure that's true here, considering how much we just spent at the photographers..) Some say with the first child, you don't let them have a paci if you are totally committed to nursing. With the second, not only do they have a paci, but when it drops on the floor, you just dust it off on your shirt. By the time the third child arrives, they are born sucking a paci just to keep some peace in the house. And when it falls on the floor, you just hope the dog doesn't get to it first. Child number 4 at our house not only had a paci, but she herself chose to share it with the dog. That's been about the only thing she shares.
She has learned how to scream to get her way. Papa and mema say it's payback. I, on the other hand, think it's totally and wholly connected to the fact that she too has older siblings who continually tease her. (I feel your pain LaRue!)
But there is another saying that goes along with each subsequent child you have. Something to the effect of their diaper hanging lower each time before you change it. So true, especially when the baby girl is wearing a dress.
All I can say, though, is at least she has clothes AND PANTS on! This summer we went through a phase where she thought clothing was optional. At one point I found her on the kitchen counter, standing there totally naked.
Soon after that happened, a friend sent a card alluding to the fact that she would have a way to pay for college. Please, don't add that to the list of subsequent child sayings!

Who turned up the heat?

We just returned from our family vacation. My husband was set on going to St. Louis to see his brother, even though it was June and it was VERY hot. Actually, there were heat warnings there and the heat index topped out at 112-116 degrees. Not very relaxing, especially when you have morning sickness 24/7. And LaRue let us -- and everyone else within 200 feet/miles -- know that!

During our trip to the Arch, she screamed ALL the way to the top, IN the top and ALL the way down. Oh, and she screamed while we stood in line. This was done while flailing around on the floor or in our arms throughout most of the 1 1/2 hours. People looked at us like we were aliens. One lady -- an employee at the arch -- asked if there was a problem. Um, duh?

"She's 1," I responded very curtly.

Other people in the first cave we toured were a little more comforting. Her screaming didn't echo like I thought it would. What can I say, she wanted her own stroller and they had us use a different one to go in?

At the second cave, no strollers were allowed. LaRue was fine until we got about 20 feet in to the cave. Again, people were not so friendly. But what do you do?

We'd already spent $50 on tickets. It wasn't like we were just going to leave. And what do you want us to do, beat her?

So, needless to say we did not check out the Cardinals game. Daddy and I both agreed it probably wasn't a good idea to try and contain her for a few hours in the 100+ degree heat. You can see from the picture how wonderfully refreshing the air was.

But despite the weather, we had a great time spending a week away as a family. The house we stayed in was amazing and gave the kids a chance to boat, fish and swim. Too bad the fish thought it was too hot to bite!

Cinco de...Stromberg

So the news is out, thanks largely to a couple of overzealous souls. We are having a baby! Yes, you read that right. Baby number five will grace our presence just after the first of the year. I kept it a secret for a while. The grandparents knew and couple of friends (one of which is a nurse -- more about that later).
Let's just say, this came as a big surprise to us. This will be c-section number five for me, so I'm kind of scared about how my body will react. And dear daddy will be about 85 by the time this one graduates high school. Truth is, he'll be, well, he'll be older than me. Let's just put it that way.
Farmer Boy and the Princess are already thinking of names. They learned Spanish in school this year. So they have suggested "Cinco." Cute, but probably not. And, as Princess is quick to point out, this is actually baby number 6. The middle child is somewhere bouncing around in heaven's playground.
This baby was totally unplanned. However, we have no doubt he or she will be a definite blessing in our family. And, as one friend pointed out. "LaRue" couldn't have been the baby. She was obviously referring to the flailing, screaming, dramatic fits she has at the drop of a hat. Entertaining? Yes. Getting old? Definitely.
I mentioned today that it's partially my late uncle's fault we're in this predicament. If I hadn't been grieving his sudden death, and my wonderful husband hadn't been so quick to comfort me, well, you married couples know...
Without knowing I was pregnant, I had surgery. Good thing I didn't know I was pregnant, because I probably would have put off the surgery even longer. But bad thing that I took darvoset and other pain killers. (Hence, the call to my nurse friend when I found out I was pregnant). We just pray for God's mercy and grace on this little one.
Farmer Boy and the Princess have been more than eager to tell people we are having twins. Sadly, people believe them. I quickly correct them, and, as of this week, I have proof that is NOT the case.
I took them with to the doctor when I had an ultrasound, just so they could hear the nurse say, There is only one baby." I asked her to repeat it for emphasis, and louder in case they didn't hear her.
So they've moved on from the discussion about twins and cinco to now: "Mom, are you going to go to the vet now like Lily (our dog) so that you can't have any more kids."
Actually, I've got some wonderful BRAVE male friends who will be taking daddy for a drive, something they should've done for about 2 years now....

? of the day

Something is so wrong with this question I just asked Cookie Monster: "How much perfume did you put on?"
Seriously, when the smell lingers from the basement, through the main floor and up to the top floor, enough already little guy!! Plus, do you know how embarrassed you will be when we remind you of your obsession with perfume when you bring a date home.
At least this time it was a cheap bottle and not one of my expensive perfumes.

Is it a sin?

I've spent some of this morning trying to recuperate from a trip to the Children's Museum with all 4 kids -- by myself. Cookie Monster stood at one display (I guess the non-working sinks made him think of running water) and looked up at me calmly and said "I'm peeing."
"Stop!" I shouted, trying to be calm. But the fountain just kept running, down his leg and onto the carpet. What was I thinking, asking a three-year-old who is potty training to control his bladder?
So all 5 of us trekked to the bathrooms to discover the dreaded yellow sign saying it was closed for cleaning. I mentioned to the young teen working in the area that there was a cleanup in aisle 9. She said they would take care of it. "They" meant the man currently in the ladies room, who would not budge so I could remove Cookie Monster's clothes.
Sorry -- brief sidenote -- I'm laughing to myself because we were in Cookie Monster's playground at the time -- a Sesame Street display!
So I waited outside the door for a few moments. The young teen told me I could go downstairs to the other restrooms. Sorry, I said, we'll just wait so as not to stomp his pee-covered shoes down the elevator.
So I just at on the bench outside the bathroom and used Farmer Boy and the Princess as a shield for Cookie Monster's bare bottom to change him. Needless to say, the pull-up replaced the "big boy" pants at that moment.
Oh, and while the quick change took place, LaRue stood at a window overlooking the main floor -- licking it clean!
Guess hand-sanitizer doesn't work for that one.
So I was just kind of vegging this morning, working on some Vacation Bible School things in the living room and trying to recuperate.
I wondered, as I looked over the booklet filled with Bible verses and references to God: is it a sin that I can hear my dear husband in the dining room laughing and playing with the kids and.....
TEACHING THEM HOW TO PLAY POKER??? Oh, and they are using REAL poker chips.
Guess I have a new prayer for the VBS prayer list?

How Much?

I've joked in the past with my children that I would pass them by the scanner at the store checkout to see how much they are worth. They laugh. So do I. But yesterday, I might've been more serious about that.
I made the choice (mistake?) of taking all four munchkins to the local shopping mall -- Wal-Mart. After spending 6 months worth of pay (dad's of course) to buy Mother's Day cards, we stopped to eat supper. No, I didn't even peak at what they selected, but I do know one cost $6.49. Thank goodness it's for their favorite mom.
Most of the brood selected food from the deli area. I just ate a couple of bites of their food. The Princess wanted pizza. They were enjoying their meal when I told them I'd be right back and went to the restroom. On the way there, the young man who had served up our food at the deli walked out of the restroom -- wearing his plastic gloves that he scooped up the food with.
I tried to keep from vomiting (I hadn't really eaten much yet). I took care of my business and returned to the table, all the while wondering what the heck happened to common sense?
I was tempted to walk over to the deli and scream "Didn't your mom teach you to wash your hands?" But with the kiddos with, I decided against that.
Seems Cookie Monster is one mega-sponge lately and I could hear him screaming that to random people in public restrooms.
So I lied and said I needed to go get a tissue in the restroom. I'm surprised Cookie Monster didn't offer his already snot-covered shirt. Instead, I went to the service desk and asked for the manager. I shared my observations with him. After sharing his disgust, off he went to the deli.
After a short time, he returned with a gift card. How thoughtful, but don't know if that would cover a doctor's visit from the germs we could contract. Anyhow, he arrived just on time to see the GIGANTIC mess Cookie Monster had made.
When he was reaching for a cup of pop from Farmer Boy, he dropped it. Apparently, the Princess was done eating, because her pizza was now soaked. Luckily, no clothes were wet.
And, luckily, the elderly couple behind us must have had bad hearing. Because they didn't hear Cookie Monster shouting.
"G. Damnit." Not once, but several times. Again this was one of those times that was hard to discipline him with a straight face. Seriously, I think the phrase comes from dad. But the way he shouted it through gritted teeth came from me. He made me laugh after a stressful shopping outing.
But still, wonder how much he would ring up for on the scanner?

It could've been me!

A news report earlier this week said a New York mom was being charged after leaving her 2 daughters on the side of the road after she grew sick of their fighting. Well, at least I did NOT leave mine. I just drove beside them (see earlier post "These Boots Are Made For Walking"). Another country song comes to mind: "It Could've Been Me....."