Mulehead

The little one is 3 now.  Where has time gone?

 I've often referred to her as the exclamation point at the end of our family sentence and never has this been more true. 

She had our hearts at day one when she came into this family in a hurry.

She has captured the hearts of many.

 ...and the funny bones. 

 She's not afraid of much.

 She makes us gasp,

 and hide our eyes....

 but this is Leilea's world and we're all just living in it.  

We're just here to keep her grounded.

 

Happy birthday, little one.  My, how time flies.

Dirty Thirty

I always post on here for everyone else's birthdays. This year, I thought I'd post one for me.
I'm 30.

Do you remember when that was old? Maybe it still is. The truth is, I still feel the same that I did when I was 17. My life is different, with different and hopefully more evolved hopes, fears, dreams... but I'm still me.

I guess I always thought that when I was 30, I'd be magically transformed into a woman with a perm, a pantsuit, and pumps who doesn't think poop is funny.

No pantsuit, no perm, no pumps, and poop is definitely still funny.

I don't even realize I'm getting older until I'm slapped in the face with reality. I went to the doctor several months ago for a spot on my face. Being fair-skinned and having a love/hate relationship with the sun, I try to keep an eye on things so I went to the dermatologist. She took one look at it and said, "It's not cancer. You're just getting older. It's an age thing." What?!?! When I go to the doctor to get something checked out, the reason is usually, "Well, you've had 3 kids." I knew this particular problem wasn't the result of any postnatal mishap but it's never been age.

It's not that I mind getting older. It's better than the alternative. I won't even mind going gray or getting wrinkles. I've always admired the silver hair of a well-aged woman. I used to wish I had the laugh lines I saw in the faces of my relatives. I thought crow's feet were cool- like a badge of honor.

I don't want to be in high school again. Age seems to dull the drama of the teenage life, and that was very welcome. At 30, I have more confidence (or lack of concern for acceptance), I'm more organized (I know- it was worse), and I really do know more. I like where I am and I'm glad for every minute that has carried me here.

What would my teenage self say about me now?

I always wanted to be an art teacher, and here I am.

I never thought I'd have kids and now I'm crawling with them.If I'd known my kids and how cool they'd be, I would have planned on them years ago. I'd be surprised but excited.

I never thought I'd marry John, but, again, back then, I didn't know the John I married. He's perfect for me.
Do people really make lists like on the movies of things they "have" to accomplish by the time they're 30, or 40, or whenever? I've always been a come-what-may kind of person but if I had made a list then it would have been drastically different. I just would have re-written it a million times along the way so that I would end up exactly where I am today. Yup, I'm 30. I've lost the ability to pull an all-nighter and I have looked at a group of teenagers and uttered the phrase "Kids these days...." I sign report cards, and file claims with my homeowners insurance. I think some music on the radio us just noise, and most teenage boys need haircuts. I may wear sunscreen every day and pass up clothes at the store that I like because it looks "too young" but mark my words: I will never own a pantsuit, pumps, or get a perm- even when I earn my grey hair and crow's feet.

Kawika's 4!

Blogging has been way down on my list of things to do lately. Honestly, we've been so cought up in living life lately that I haven't had time to write about it. Whatever the reason, I can't let Kawika's birthday post pass me by.

Yeah, Kawika turned 4 in May. I'm happy to report that this little boy is still the kindest, softest, squishiest, most cuddly kid I've ever met. Here's a breakdown of a few of my favorite things about this boy at this point:

*The kid seriously has the softest skin I've ever touched. Always has.*Of all the kids, he's always the first in line for hugs and kisses.*His ears are squishy and movable. They flop when he runs, and even flap in strong wind. When he gets tired, he plays with them and folds them into his head and pops them out.*He tells me when I make his heart happy. (unfortunately for my heart, he also tells me when I make his heart sad)*He really loves his mommy. That's my favorite.
*His idea of the ideal meal always starts and sometimes ends with peanut butter and jelly.*He maintains his own in this house of strong-willed sisters. ...and loves them very much.*He's my artist. The girls like to make art, but Kawika goes about it differently and looks at things in a way that amazes me.Whatever life has in store for Kawika, my biggest hope for him is that he stays just the way he has been for the past 4 years. Happy birthday sweet boy.

Reality Check

My kids undoubtedly believe in the healing power of kisses. No one in this house under 5 feet can leave a boo boo unattended until you kiss the exact spot of pain. I love it.

They also believe that as a part of daddy's regular chores he kills any monster that might come from their closets or from under their beds.

This is why I'm a little surprised sometimes when I get a dose of reality from my kids.

Yesterday, I was joking around with Iwa and told her that we needed to move to Mercury for some reason or another. She said, "No, mommy. That's to close to the sun. It would be way too hot for us there."

Iwa: 1
Mommy: 0

What made me sad was a few days before that she was wanting something. She said, "I would wish on a star, but they're just balls of fire in space. They don't come true."

I've been thinking about that ever since.

I told her that we don't have to wish on stars because we have prayer and all of that, but a part of me is sad that one piece of childhood is taken away from her by reality. Sheesh. Education.

I realized all was not lost, though, when she helped me hunt leprechauns. John and I were on our way somewhere with the kids. We were talking about where to go or something and, of course, she was trying to be in our conversation.

Iwalani: Mommy, where are we going?

Me: (jokingly) I don't know about you guys but I'm looking for leprechauns. I hear he has some really good Lucky Charms.

Iwalani: (in an "Whatever, Mommy" kinda laugh and tone) Okay mommy..

**long silence**

Iwalani: So, Mommy... what do leprechauns look like?

Of course I told her where we were actually going, but if she was going to believe that, she's still a kid.

I'd rather not think about what it says about me.

Math

For all of you who know how much I love math, here's a little equation for you:

This:+ this:= this:
and this:and when you add 6 years (what?!?) = this:Happy 6th birthday, test child. You've been a good sport. Here's to many, many more.

(years people..... more years.)

Wockets and pockets

I cannot get Dr.Seuss off my mind lately. His birthday is Wednesday and my classes are doing projects inspired by his work. Because of this, and because it's just plain good stuff, I've been reading a lot of Dr.Seuss both to my kids at home and my kids at school.

In preparation for this, I did a lot of internet research on Dr.Seuss and discovered that (not surprisingly) he had a lot of good stuff to say.

"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You."

When people express their amazement about how alike my kids look, and how much they look like me, I jokingly call myself a human Xerox. I mean really- three chances for genetic variations and this is what we get?
While the four of us do look alike (sorry John), they all have their distinct personalities. If they learn nothing else from me, I hope they learn to be themselves because you should...

"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."

Here are two more I love:

"Adults are just obsolete children and to Hell with them."

"If you never did you should. These things are fun and fun is good."

...and one final one that I would love to have cross-stitched and framed in my house:

"I've heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me."

Happy birthday Dr. Seuss. Thanks.

Hot-lanta

Last week I went to Atlanta for school. I looked out my hotel room to see this:I was sent to visit this man:Who co-founded this school:The school visit started in the library with stuff like this painted on the ceiling:
...and this jumpy thing as a permanent fixture in the middle (yes, of the library):
The classrooms all had fun stuff like this in them:
We learned (and sang and danced and laughed) a lot and at the end of the day, the only way out was to go down this slide:
What an amazing place! You can go here and read more about him/his school.

The house was even still standing when I got home.

Happy (early) Valentine's

Valentine's Day was always my favorite holiday as a kid.

Not for the romance aspect. Bleh! No, I love Valentine's Day because of the crafting possibilities. There's just something about heart shaped doilies that makes me pause and think, "what could a grown woman do with these?"

The answer, is nothing.

This is why I had kids.

As I said in an earlier post, I made the kids' Valentines this year. I ran into a post on the blog I Am Momma Hear Me Roar. This also introduced me to the photo editing website called Picnik. I see many more projects like this in my future.

Here is Iwa's:
For the treat, I upcycled a bunch of broken crayons (I'm an art teacher who can't throw anything away in a school of 900+ kids. I have plenty of these) into heart-shaped crayons. I put them in a snack-sized ziploc bag and stapled the picture on top.

For Kawika's, I stuck more closely to the idea I saw on the blog:
...mostly because he has THE BEST kissy face in the world. I filled a snack-sized ziploc with Hershey's Kisses.

I still couldn't find a way to incorporate doilies. Maybe next year.

Spoiler alert

This year, I made the kids' class Valentines. I'll post them when I'm done but here's a sneak peek of Kawika's:


...just makes me smile every time!

Happy birthday, daddy!

...John warming his hands by the fire.

We know you've only spent the last 8 1/2 years with us, but we love you forever.

Here's to many, many more.

Show and tell

For those of you who were curious, here's what Kawika took for show and tell at school today:
Of course, at school, he was wearing pants.

Ever since Aunt Krissy sent him and his sisters glow in the dark "bone jammies" for Halloween and we explained what bones were, this kid has been obsessed.

This incident has just put fuel on the fire.

He now sleeps with his x-rays and an issue of the American Journal of Orthopedics which is complete with more x-rays and candid photos from various surgeries.

I just hope that football scholarship can take him all the way through med school.

3 for 3 makes a Turkey!!

I can't see it, my family can't see it, but medical professionals tell me that somewhere in there is a hairline fracture.

In my baby boy's foot.

Let me rewind:

Lots of times, Kawika walks into his room for awhile. Minutes later he comes running full speed into the living room. Sometimes he is running right for you and you hope that someday all this abuse you take will pay off in the form of a football scholarship. Sometimes he falls down and plays dead and you have to perform a fake autopsy or CSI investigation (yeah, mommy has an odd sense of humor. uh, have you met me?). This time, however, he fell down, landed with his left knee on top of his right foot, and laid there and cried.

He broke his own foot and now he's sporting a knee-high blue weapon of mass destruction. Heaven help his sisters if he finds out how useful that thing could be.

He is very excited about the x-rays we got to take home on a CD, and the American Journal of Orthopedics he also took as a souvenir.

First we had the stitches, then, two days later, Leilea dislocated her elbow (again). Not even a week after that, Kawika breaks his foot.

That- in bowling- is what we call a Turkey. (3 strikes in a row)

At home we call it a hell of a week.

I think the Department of Child Services might have a name for it, too, but from now on the kids are going to be wrapped in packing foam and bubble wrap so we never have to find out.

You should see the other guy...

In the blue corner, wearing the pink princess footie jammies, weighing in at a squishy 34lbs, with a record of 3 and 0, hailing from Millington, TN, we have Leilea "The Berserker" Frisky.

Don't let her rosy cheeks fool you, ladies and gentlemen. This one takes no prisoners.

This one is going to give me a heart attack.

Saturday night, we took Leilea to get the Frisky Five's first set of stitches.

(in the words of the kids at school) You see, what had happen was... I put up a big girl bed in her room. I was putting stuff away not more than two feet away from her when she rolled off the bed. Her fall was broken by her face and the corner of the armrest of the glider.

Seeing it all in slow motion, I was almost able to catch her. She cried for just a little bit but when I got a chance to look at it, my insides flinched. I'm sure if I had had the stomach to look closer I might have seen skull.

I got toilet paper on it and, speechless, I showed it to John. Sometimes we can't decide whether or not things are bad enough to go to the ER. This was not one of those times. Without question or hesitation, John got the other kids dressed and we were off to drop them off and go see what the damage was.

She never cried or fussed after that initial minute or two right after the fall but I knew what lay ahead. The little girl before us had her chin stitched up and I cried for her in the waiting room while we heard her cries (blood curdling screams) from the procedure room. She had to be bound to the table. My tears were for her but also in fear of what I knew was coming for Leilea. I don't think I could handle that. I planned on bailing.

She was checked for concussion, we were asked probing questions about how the fall happened, and then after a few hours (near 9pm) it was our turn to be sewn up.

She recognized the nurse from when he came and poked at her wound to see what kind of treatment it would need. When she saw him she kind of whimpered and hesitated and clung to me. He told her, "Don't worry, baby. Mommy's not going anywhere, I promise." Thanks, cause mommy fully intended to ask, plead, beg the nurses to hold her down so that John and I wouldn't have to.

We laid her on the table, gave her the usual set of comforts that go with bedtime and she fell asleep... he put on the topical numbing stuff... still sleeping... he prodded with a syringe of lidocaine in the wound to numb her a little deeper... sleeping... Finally he sewed her up with four stitches. Thank God for little miracles because she slept through the whole thing. It was bedtime and she'd had a big weekend, not to mention how tired she probably was from the incident itself.

Bless her crazy little heart.