The holidays are upon us, and it's special and stuff... bla bla bla... let's get to the part where I make my life look better than it is. No, I'm not mocking your Christmas letter. I'm just acknowledging that we have to highly censor these things - you and me both.
Eva is 2.5 years old and pretty much the boss around here. She is becoming quite the talker, but she is also very timid and has some pretty intense separation anxiety. She can be a bit destructive, just like the siblings that came before her. She doesn't do it on purpose. Sometimes she's just trying to be helpful, like when she "helped" me do the dishes and managed to take a chunk out of my hand with a kitchen knife. Judging by the scar, I probably should have gotten stitches, but instead, I have a loving, permanent reminder of motherhood to gaze upon. She does love emptying the dishwasher - I just wish she'd stop climbing in it. Its days are numbered; that door can't possibly survive the remainder of her toddlerhood.
I like to pretend that I've established strong boundaries for media consumption in my family, but let's be honest - if the DVD player in the van turns off for one second, Eva turns into a tornado of fingernails and teeth, so let's restart Good Burger one more time. You've gotta cut Eva a break, though, she has practically been raised in the van. That's the fate of the fourth child.
Sometimes Eva pees in the toilet, but only when it's incredibly inconvenient - like at 11:30 at night when she's still bouncing off the walls, and I'm watching Netflix and hoping she'll pass out on her own so I don't have to fight her to go to bed. I'm confident that she will be fully potty trained by age 32.
Eva spends most of her time pretending to be a dog (careful, she licks) and is going through a phase where she likes to spit in people's food.
Common phrases heard from Eva:
"Me not tired!"
"Me so excited!"
"Hold you me!"
"Milky!"
Zoe just turned five, and she wants the whole world to know it. She is one smart cookie and has a very strong will. I take her to buy an ice cream cone every day because that's the only way I can get her to go to preschool. Our life revolves around whether the McDonald's ice cream machine is working. Occasionally she will ask for tacos instead of ice cream so we end up at Del Taco where we leave the biggest mess of shredded lettuce known to man.
Zoe owns eight backpacks, and she refuses to wear socks. She's very fussy about her shoes. They are always too big, too tight, or just not right. She goes to primary barefoot every week and often drags a twin-sized blanket with her. We're just glad she's finally going.
I've done everything I can to make Zoe's maintenance routine as easy as possible, including chopping off her long hair. I keep spare clothes and shoes in the car because I never know when I'm going to get stranded in a public place with her screaming that her clothes or her shoes are bugging her. Most of the time she insists on wearing nightgowns. Any time she gets upset, the first thing she does is put a nightgown on. We spend a good twenty minutes negotiating clothes for school each day.
Common phrases heard from Zoe:
"How dare you!"
"I need water in a sippy cup with ice!"
"I'm going to write a letter to everyone in this town."
"Can I play with he?"
Daisy turned eight this year and was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. This is a pretty big deal since, from the age of three, Daisy insisted that she would never be baptized because she didn't want to get in the water with the "butt germs." (Never mind that she has always been fine with stewing in bath water for hours at a time).
Daisy is very tall for her age. Her height and weight are in the 98th percentile. She towers over her peers and looks like she's older than she is. She has always hated having her hair brushed and styled. She wants to do her own hair in a ponytail everyday. If you ever see her with her hair in any other style, you can assume that we had a gigantic stand-off in the bathroom that morning and that no fewer than 8,000 tears were shed in the process.
Daisy inherited my talent for eye rolling. I now understand why my own parents found it so infuriating. Googly eyes got nothin' on my Daisy.
This year, Daisy mastered her splits. Now she busts out splits everywhere - in the kitchen, at the store, in the middle of family Christmas parties... She has also improved her cartwheel form and lands on her feet and everything! Much to her dismay, we had no make a "no headstands on the couch rule" as she was routinely kicking her siblings in the face.
Common phrases heard from Daisy:
"Can a friend come over?"
"You're the worst!" <<eyeroll>>
"The little girls did it."
"Hmph. No fair!" <<eyeroll>>
"I never get to [fill in the blank]!" <<eyeroll>>
Nicky will turn 11 two days after Christmas. He is involved in Lego League, jump rope club, and safety patrol. He also takes piano lessons and earned his Arrow of Light in Cub Scouts.
This year has ushered in what I refer to as his "Hawaiian shirts and gym shorts phase." He looks like a retiree who took a flight to the wrong climate. No amount of snow can deter him from his gym shorts.
Nicky likes to dig through the garbage and chastise me for the things I throw away. I've always had to be very sneaky and strategic about getting garbage out of the house. Sometimes I have to drive garbage over to my mom's house while Nicky is at school just so I won't get caught. Nicky is very clever with garbage. Two of his most exciting garbage endeavors of 2017 were a hockey game and a virtual reality helmet.
Nicky's newest hero is Kevin James. He is obsessed with Paul Blart and wants to get a Segway. I'm sure this accessory would go really well with his wardrobe. Nicky also loves Joey from Full House, which is probably not a surprise. In fact, I just realized something...
For Christmas this year, Nicky asked for a roast beef sandwich from Arby's.
Common phrases heard from Nicky:
"Can I go to Grandma's and watch Paul Blart?"
"That's a waste of money."
"Are we having anything good for dinner?"
I could tell you about Scotty and me, but let's be honest - I started this post three weeks ago, and Christmas Eve is upon us. The good news is... our house is still standing, we still like each other most of the time, and I actually really love reading all your Christmas letters.
Much love and a Merry Christmas to you & yours!
Britt
1 comment:
I love your Christmas letter!
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