You know what the worst part about having four kids is? Corralling the clothes. The ones that SAY 5T, but MEAN 3T. The ones that SAY 3T, but mean 5T. The ones that still fit, so you leave them in the drawers till they don’t, and by the time they don’t, you can’t figure out where the box they’re supposed to be stored in is. I have eight or nine big Sterilite and Rubbermaid boxes stacked in various closets, marked with numbers that don’t necessarily correspond to the size inside. Then I think, “But whatever happened to that one outfit…?” And I pore through closets, tossing things hither and yon, and I can’t find it. Until the season is nearly over, and I discover the missing box or trash bag (there have been a few of those, too). I’ve tried so hard to keep the kids’ clothes organized, and it continually flummoxes me.
My mom, now–my mom had old chicken boxes. I don’t mean boxes that held chicken pieces, I mean boxes that held chickens. The ones we used to get from MFA every spring, with holes in the sides and fuzzy yellow babies inside, cheeping madly. I don’t know how she managed to make them clean enough to use for cothes storage, but she did. And whenever we needed new clothes we went downstairs and pulled a box off the shelf.
I’d really like my mother to tell me it wasn’t as simple as I’m remembering. I’m quite sure my kids will never, ever remember the process of finding new clothes simple.
Nicholas loves to play games. He wants to play all the games big people (i.e., Alex) play. Which means this summer Alex has been “teaching” him Connect 4 and…are you ready for this?…chess. They’re great partners, because Nicholas doesn’t care about rules, strategy or winning, and so he never gets mad that Alex wipes up with him. But considering Alex isn’t the best loser in the world, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing!
Speaking of those two. Have a load of this.
I call this the angel on my shoulder-devil on my shoulder picture. But they have their costumes and poses mixed up.
Speaking of Nicholas, the other day we were talking at the dinner table about an acquaintance who used to be in the seminary. “Wasn’t he going to become a priest?” Christian asked, and I shrugged. Julianna began grunting frantically and beating on her chest as if to say “My turn! My turn!”
“You want to be a priest?” I asked her, mouth twitching.
She looked at me like I was crazy, then shook her head. And across the table, quietly, Nicholas said, “I want to be a priest.”
As I’ve said before, I can’t decide whether he’s destined to be the priest or the GQ model of the family. It’ll be interesting to find that out as he gets older.
One of the services we receive through our county is “home-based support,” i.e. babysitting for kids with special needs. It’s been a godsend these last 5 years, and one of our providers recently had her last babysitting gig with us. After Christian and I came home, we were all standing around talking–about her future, about how much the kids love her, how much she loves the kids. “They all have such different personalities,” she said. “Julianna’s like, stealth hug girl! She’s so quiet, and then she just attacks!”
Christian and I laughed hard, because we’ve both been on the receiving end of those. “She’s just devious,” Christian said.
We’ve had a crazy summer full of weekly field trips, which has really mitigated the boredom of being stuck inside for weeks on end, imprisoned by 105-degree temperatures. The picture of the boys above was taken Friday night at a Chinese Lantern Festival. I’d love to share more pictures (I love our new camera!), but the file sizes are enormous, so I’ll just have to make do with the welcome dragon from the entrance:
Have I mentioned that Michael has a random blond streak?
(Why yes, I am doing my 7QT post on Wednesday, thanks for noticing. And I wrote a fiction piece to complete the week…)