Eight Months!

Sissy is now eight months old!!!


She has two teeth, which make her sweet grin even cuter, and her hair is really starting to come in now too. Though it's still pretty light, we think it's a bit darker than the goose's was, and... it may have a redish tint... but just a little! We still battle eczema, which seems to get worse with the heat, so I fear this may be a long itchy summer for sissy.


Her skill-set now includes blowing raspberries (thanks to the goose for teaching her that one), pulling-up (and falling down), shaking her head (her personal favorite), and occasionally waving (that one still needs some work though). AND... watch-out... she's mobile!

Her crawl isn't exactly text-book... it's more of an army crawl, pulling with her arms and pushing with her toes. She even has blisters on the sides of her big toes from her unusual crawling technique. But she definitely gets where she wants to go! And that's usaully to the goose's toys.


Her favorite things this month are prunes, spoons, the goose's pink princess hair brush, playing with Sampson, and baby dolls.  She has her own soft baby dolls, but she prefers the goose's... in part (I think) because they look more realistic AND because she likes to gnaw on their plastic hands and feet.  She also LOVES looking at herself in the mirror and continues to practice her Irish dancing, as her feet move constantly, quickly, and with great force.
 
Here's to another fun month of discovering new things to do and chew!
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Graduation...

"And now we must graduate!"

Today we bid a fond farewell to preschool ... at least until Sissy's pre-K tenure begins.  Though we were not quite as eager as some, nor as sentimental, we did appreciate the sweet ceremony and are so proud of how far the goose has come!  It doesn't seem so long ago when she wouldn't even come down the aisle without her blankie and did not so much as crack a smile, much less sing and speak.  Today, she did all three.  And what's even better... she was proud of herself.  Thank you to all the wonderful ladies who have nurtured and nudged this little goose, helping her grow from a shy, tearful two-year-old into a kind, confident kindergartner. 

Happy Imperfect Mothers Day

All-time best parenting advice received: “Go ahead and mess them up… that way they’ll know they need Jesus.”


All time best parenting advice given: “Invest in a good set of earplugs… you’ll need them for tuning out your children AND all of the unsolicited advice.”

There’s so much our mothers don’t tell us about motherhood… They don’t tell us about all the physical, emotional & mental changes that come with it. They don’t tell us how someday we will be fussing at our children and stop suddenly, realizing we just uttered our mother’s very words. They don’t tell us that some day they will be our children’s favorite person in the world and we will be public enemy number one. And they don’t tell us that we will love our children so much it hurts… when they are hurt… when they disappoint us… and most of all, when we disappoint them. Oh the mother-load of mother guilt… somehow we have to figure that one out on our own.

I’ve never met a mother who didn’t feel at least a little bit guilty for some motherly error… Loss of temper, lack of patience, ignoring, forgetting, nagging, breaking promises, feeding junk food… Like the side effects of a prescription drug, the list goes on… and on… and on.

Some motherhood-side-effects are unavoidable, like receipt of unsolicited advice, from sometimes well intentioned friends, family, and even random ladies you do not know (it’s always the ladies… men are not so foolish as to delve into this advice-giving arena). Often, the advice leaves me rolling my eyes, mumbling obscenities under my breath, calling my husband (no matter where he is) to air my grievances. But sometimes, the advice makes me just want to cry. It fuels the furnace of guilt that already rages within me.

Let me assure you, no matter how well intentioned your unsolicited advice is… I do not want it. Unless you know of a time-saving, child-entertaining, makes-life-so-much-easier product that will provide me with the ever illusive “free time”… don’t share. I don’t want to know what I’m doing wrong. Odds are, I already know. Odds are even better that I feel worse about my shortcomings than you do. You see, I fail, on a daily basis… as a mother, a wife, a daughter and a friend. But I have one saving grace… His name is Jesus. And He gives me all the advice I could ever need.

The potential gut-wrenching, guilt-producing side effects of motherhood are astounding. But like a good drug, the benefits far outweigh the risks. Someday I hope my girls are lucky enough to be mothers. I hope they stop in their tracks one day and shudder at the realization that they are a bit more like me than they ever dreamed. I hope they love their children so much it hurts. And I hope, above all, they know that we all mess up, and that’s ok… for His love covers it all.

Thank you God for imperfect mothers who point us to you… our one, perfect Father.

JOYride...

Hay season is upon us! The goose "helped" Beba get ready for "opening day."  Here's her first joyride... on a haywagon...

Sunday Sillys...

silly sisters after church this sunday...

.... they crack me up!