mondays are home days

We usually try to stay home on Mondays.  Sundays are crazy and poor Lucy gets cheated on her naps, so I like to give her a chance to regroup and sleep when she needs to.  Elijah appreciates the chance to take the car at the beginning of the week so he can take all of the stuff he needs for the next 4 days of riding his bike.  (I love my husband and his willingness to let us have the car most days.  Even on icy days.  He is awesome.  Or awe-sim, as Aida likes to say.)

Anyways, all that to say that the big girls know that Mondays are Home Days.  They also know that Home Days mean they get to pick out their own clothes.  These have been their outfits of choice for the past few weeks.

Aida claims she is a raspberry; Sophie is a purple grape.

(To reconcile the fact that her shirt is a different shade than her pants, Sophie claims that she is a purple grape whose top is rotten.  "Of course," I told her.)

 By the time we finished this painting project, though, Aida was more of a blueberry.

my Thanksgiving post. or, sometimes I hide under my children's beds

Last week I hid under Sophie's bed.  Just curled up, cheek pressed against the dusty-smelling carpet, eyes screwed tight.  Lucy was in her crib, screaming.  I was attempting, for the kajillionth millionth time, to locate some precious toy that had been misplaced.  My 4-year-olds were whining at me, and then at each other, and then yelling.  It had been a long day, full of screaming and whining and yelling.  Under the bed seemed like a good place to stay for a while.

Those kinds of days are why motherhood is so good for my soul.  Regardless of whether or not I'm fooling anyone else, there is no fooling myself when I'm stuffed under a bed - I'm no good on my own.  I'm not wise enough, patient enough, creative enough, fill-in-the-blank enough.  On days like this, when I reach the end of myself before the demands have even begun to be met, I am right where I'm supposed to be - humble.  Humbled.  Reliant on Him who made me, who knows me, who loves me.  And, if I can get there, grateful.  For mercy and second chances, apologies and snuggles and those little hands that tug, tug, tug at me.

Because when I get past the screaming and the whining and the yelling, I am reminded something about each of these precious days.

They are my dreams coming true.

A man that I am crazy about, a home teeming with children and noise and mess and living.  God's perfect love, manifest in my imperfect, exceedingly blessed life.

little Lu turns 1/2

Sweet Lucy Rose, today you are 6 months old - you have blessed our family with your joy for half of a year.

You are the kissing-est baby I have ever known.  You love to grab a face with both your little hands and lay a nice slobbery smooch all over it.

Getting you up in the morning is one of my favorite things.  When I walk into your room your eyes light up and you kick your legs, wave your arms, and give a little chuckle.  You know how to make a Mama feel loved and important.

You are TERRIBLE about waking up at night these days.  Oooh, it is rough right now.  But even that is bittersweet, because I know our nights of snuggling up together in the dark are numbered.  I love it when your chubby little hand reaches sleepily up to play with the collar of my shirt while you nurse.

Your sisters love you, your daddy loves you, I love you.  Happy 6 months, Lu!

riding excalators

Winter is flirting with us, trying to decide if it's ready to stick around for a while.  Last week, climbing out of bed for those middle of the night feedings was just a bit harder (ugh, and it's already hard enough).  Elijah waited just an extra minute to bundle up and head out to work on his bike in the 28* mornings.  And that state of being known as "stir crazy" began to weasel its way into our days at home.

I took about 20 pictures this morning; Lucy had her mouth wide open in 17 of them.

SO...we set out on Thursday to combat it.  It was just too cold to go for a walk at the greenway.  We headed to the mall instead.

Lucy eats solids for the first time

 We searched for every escalator (excalator) we could find.

"Mommy, take a picture of Pinky Pie!"

 And then we rode them.  All.

 Up. Down.  Walk a little bit.  Up again.  Down again.  Stop at Auntie Anne's Pretzels.  Get COVERED in cinnamon and sugar.  And...up again.

Aida's "silly face"

 You get the idea.

I'm sure we were quite a sight.  Aida and Sophie clinging to my hands, none-too-quietly stumbling onto each escalator, Lucy hanging out (literally) in the Baby Bjorn, legs kicking wildly and those big blue eyes looking all around.

DROOL!!!

Thank God for daughters, and for escalators, and for the Green Hills Mall. (Did I just say that?)

said Aida to Lucy

"Yucy, you're the cutest yittle baby.  I'm so glad that we picked you to be our baby."

seeing double

We like to do things in 2s around here.

This is a common sight in the big girls' room.  (It's also common for them to start pushing against each other with all their strength until they're yelping at each other and I am yelping at them both.)  

I love how Aida is reading to her My Little Pony.


And this is a common sight in Lucy's room. That's my Lu on the left.

And that's sweet Abigail on the right. We have really been settling into having her with us for a few hours each day. So much so, that Sophie added her to the family picture she commissioned me to draw.  The stick-figure portrait includes Daddy, Mommy, Aida, Sophie, Lucy, and Abby.

You could say she's stepped into the role of big sister with fervor.

there will be music

Christmas came early at the Reynolds home.

Thanks to Grandmom for financing it, Granddaddy for loaning his truck to move it, and our wonderfully amazing come-over-in-a-pinch friends Liz and Clint (along with baby Moses, who cheered us on/screamed in the exersaucer), for helping us wrangle it into our house.

We have a PIANO!  A banged-up, scratched and bruised, works perfectly piano.  So far the girls and I have played "Hot Cross Buns" and "Jesus Loves Me."  I'm hoping to expand our repertoire soon.

our very own pumpkin patch

First we (and by we I mean Elijah) carved pumpkins...

...and then dressed up like pumpkins.

Yep, we had our very own Reynolds pumpkin patch this year.

Even Grandmom joined in the costume fun.

And there was trick-or-treating for the first time.  Our sweet friend Maddie let us traipse up and down her street with her. Aida shouted, "Trick-or-treating is fun, Mommy!" 

When we got home the girls dumped their candy out in piles on the floor and the trading commenced (overseen by Daddy).  I remember those days, checking out the loot and bartering with siblings.


Too bad they've already investigated their candy stash (which thankfully is quite small) 3 times today.  I think they might be memorizing what they have left. Which means Mommy can't get away with stealing it.


Dang.

baby in a swing

This little Lu fills my life with joy. I thought I could share a bit of it with you today.

She always curls her toes like this. So cute.

from our family to yours

A happy, happy Monday to you, from our

(pigtail-sporting,

snuggle-giving,

sophisticated-hat-wearing,

English-paper-grading [and grading and grading and grading],

bonnet-clad,

laundry-basket-playing,

leotard-with-boots-attired)

family to yours.

(This one just might be my favorite.)

oh.my.goodness.

How cute is this?! I can't believe I got all 3 of them smiling at the same time!

I have all kinds of blog posts in the works, some in various stages of creation floating around blogger and others just floating around in my head. These 3 beauties keep me busy, though (not to mention the 4th little one we spend time caring for each day for a few hours), so they will be slow in coming. Sort of like everything else in my life right now. I'm okay with that - this is the particular season we are in. I thank God for it.

mudbaths

Some days you just need...

...to get good and muddy.
Am I right?