Allow me to be honest for a few minutes and say something about the ever-so-loved Target.

It is my frenemy.

There are times when Target is 100% my friend, such as the day when I discovered the Playskool Rose Petal Cottage marked down to $30 and the day when I discovered the coordinating Cherry Blossom Market slashed to 90% off. Yep, Target and I were Best Friends Forever on those days.

Target is my friend when I walk through its doors and happen upon a freshly stocked seasonal aisle and is my chum when they put Dunkin Donuts coffee on sale.

Then there are those gloomy days when Target becomes my enemy, days when only one checker is scanning items at the speed of old pancake syrup while my children are falling into heaps of tears and snot over some slight made in their preschool worlds.

Target is my enemy when their sale prices do not sync up with fellow Target stores and it is my enemy when that said Dunkin Donuts coffee is sold out.

See? Target is totally my frenemy. Some days it's a friend, other days it is my worst enemy.

On this fine March day Target was a bit of an enemy.

Evelyn and I decided to make a quick run to this store before preschool pick-up because we were in need of a light bulb for the guest bathroom and Easter marshmallows. The necessities of life. Yes, technically marshmallows are a grocery item only to be purchased during my every-two-week grocery store visits. However, Target is the only place that carries the seasonal marshmallows which my children dearly love as a special treat so this item is the exception to the rule.

Miss E. and I were having quite the grand time, examining the clearance racks and searching for the correct sized light bulb until I made the grave realization....her beloved zebra was no longer sitting next to her in the cart. When questioned about his locale, Evelyn insisted that "RaRa in Ell-in's jacket" (we sometimes tuck him in her jacket to prevent his untimely loss). I kindly pointed out that "Ell-in" was not wearing a jacket due to the 80+ degree weather and that "RaRa" was missing.

I retraced our steps...no purple and white zebra.

I checked with customer service...no purple and white zebra.

I took us back out to the car...no purple and white zebra.

Panic began to set in. RaRa is a family member, a coping mechanism for Evelyn, and the only way she will stay in bible class without a total meltdown. He also happened to be purchased at a random Albertson's grocery store months before Evelyn was born and we have been unsuccessful at finding a back-up zebra.

I began to wonder if Amber Alerts were merely for children when we could not locate the zebra after ten minutes.

I began to envision the end of all mankind when we could not locate the zebra within fifteen minutes.

My eyes were getting a bit misty when we could not locate the zebra within twenty minutes.

Approximately 22 minutes after discovering that RaRa was lost (not that I was counting), a woman approached me. She held up a very worn, very loved purple and white zebra and asked if he was ours.

I am not ashamed to admit that I hugged this complete stranger and most likely said, "Bless your heart." ten times.

Crisis resolved.

I paid for our few items and passed through those Target doors, baby girl and purple zebra in tow. I shook my head, glad that this Target trip was over and placed it into the "Enemy" category in the ongoing score in my head.

It was at that moment a lady on her cell phone almost backed over me, the cart, and Evelyn. Fortunately I was able to yell at her to stop. Sheesh. I am sure the call was very important and worth the potential loss of life of two fellow citizens.

I trudged the final steps to our car, ready to retreat into its plush seats and comforting surroundings. I then noticed a large, red pickup had kindly parked extremely close to the driver's side of my car. Thanks, red truck, for your thoughtfulness. Evelyn...and anyone else who happened to walk by at that moment...was quite amused by my contortionist abilities as I attempted to crawl through to the driver's seat via the opposite side.

Target...a girl's best frenemy.

***

Don't forget about your chance to win a free pack of Pampers Diapers. Go here for details!

"One Pack = One Vaccine"

This morning, Little Miss E. sat her cute little behind on the potty for a good 20 minutes, determined to have success in the bathroom. She has been having some tummy issues lately and has requested use of the facilities quite frequently these past few days. Although she has yet to produce anything in the potty (the hardest hurdle to jump in the potty training race if you ask me), she is focused and making a conscious effort.



As she sat, electronic Elmo potty book in hand (a special privilege only for those sitting on the potty and only on days when Mommy has popped a few Advil beforehand), she sang. She sang the "ABC's", "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star", "Jesus Loves You (Jesus Lobes You/Me as she calls it), and various other tunes. Precious is the singing voice of a little girl unaware of the audience listening in on her private performance.



As I listened to our little girl sing and chat today, secretly praying this trip to the restroom would be successful, I was thankful for such moments of innocence and purity. In many societies, one can gather a group of mothers together, regardless of race or culture or age, toss out a few key phrases such as "Potty Training", "Feeding", and "Sleeping Through the Night" and instant woman bonding begins.



This isn't the case in all of our world. Place another group of mothers together, ones from less industrialized nations, and their common chatter would likely be about survival of their family. There are no worries about how old one's child is before he/she sleeps eight hours at night or if they should bottle feed or breast-feed. They simply are concerned about the survival of the members of their family. Period.



Pampers contacted me recently, asking if I would let the readers of this blog know about their "One Pack = One Vaccine" campaign. It is no secret that we are avid fans of Pampers diapers (especially when purchased with a coupon) and that we strive to have a global view of humanity in the day to day rigors of our life here at casa de phillips. Campaign to help mommies and babies who are struggling for survival? Sign me up.



The "One Pack = One Vaccine" campaign is quite simple. From February 5 through May 1, 2009, when a pack of specially-marked Pampers diapers or wipes are purchased, a life saving vaccine is donated to an area in need. These vaccines are used to eliminate maternal and neonatal tetanus (MNT), a preventable disease that claims the lives of approximately 128,000 infants and 30,000 mommies in less industrialized nations each year.



Many of you have traveled to other countries and have seen the poverty that strikes particular places in our world. While in Africa, I witnessed a lady giving birth on the side of a busy dirt street, saw a stillborn baby left abandoned on a pile of garbage, and carted around a 9 month old Kenyan baby girl for three weeks and then was heartbroken to leave her with her homeless 14 year old mother when I returned home.



There are some terribly tragic stories out there.



Pampers and UNICEF is attempting to reduce the number of such stories.



To encourage participation in such a vital cause, I am giving away a free pack of Pampers diapers (via redeemable coupon). To enter to win, simply leave me a comment about a funny/horrific/terrifying diaper incident you have experienced as a parent. The winner will be chosen randomly and the coupon will be mailed ASAP. The comments for this post will be closed on Thursday March 12, 2009 at 7pm. The winner will be announced on Friday March 13, 2009.



Pampers is also sending me a couple of these bodysuits:

These are going to be donated to our local pregnancy crisis center, which my MOPS group is supporting this year.

Share your funny story for a chance to win a free pack of diapers. Also, next time you are at the store, Pampers coupon in hand, be sure to pick up one of these speciality marked packages of diapers to help a fellow mommy in this world.

Peace.

And, Good Times Were Had By All

The parental units left our fair city this morning around 10am. We were all a bit sad to see them go after enjoying so many days of fun and adventure with them. After a flat tire and with one parent recovering from a bout with suspected food poisoning from BBQ, I think my mom and dad finally arrived home this evening.




Many things were checked off our "To Do" list in the four days they were visiting casa de phillips.



For example:


Isaac visited the local Bass Pro Shop and tried out every tractor, boat, personal water toy, etc he could find. Tobe and my dad half-heartedly discussed going in together and purchasing a boat (because who doesn't purchase a boat during a recession) but could not decide on the lake where said boat would reside. Fortunately the boys returned home from their outing sans boat.

There was lots and lots of running around outside due to the adoring audience of grandparents being present 24/7.

Evelyn's mother forced her to try on clothes in the middle of The American Girl store in search for potential birthday presents. Sheesh. Someone should really explain social mores to that lady...

Both kids worked their magic on the grandparents, managing to get copious amounts of french fries and ice cream at various meals.

Isaac decided he and Giraffe needed to wear coordinating shirts on Thursday. They also needed to share a cold glass of chocolate milk.

Various parks and play areas were visited.

A "Three Generation" picture was attempted, despite the fact that E. was less than willing to participate and the sun was blinding us with its rays. After the taking of this picture, "the girls" headed out for MOPS and then for our first official "Nanny/Mommy/Daughter" lunch at a refined eatery. Evelyn had the chicken and fries, of course, but we are preparing her palate to one day enjoy the tomato soup and chicken salad combo.

Various other items were crossed off the To-Do list as well, some boring such as "Get the oil changed" or "Have side-swept bangs trimmed" and others a bit more exciting such as "Go to Mall with Mom while children sleep" and "Attend Date Night with Cute Husband."

Good times, friends. Good times.

Hearing His Voice

*Originally Published August 6, 2008*

The singing started off soft and melodic, but slowly began to build. I looked around the concrete room in a bit of awe, unable to comprehend how this group of girls had gone from reserved and scared to now boisterously singing and dancing carelessly. Their new found courage was on display, their faith out in the open. They were free and happy, their world of pain left at the door as they allowed themselves to become lost in a sea of song.

Standing in the midst of their singing, I questioned how I had reached this place, a concrete building in the middle of the slums of Nairobi, Kenya. Not exactly the destination of a typical grad student on summer break. Somehow I had felt drawn to this seemingly mysterious continent, thousand of miles from the comforts of my small town life. It was my second summer in Kenya and I already been there for two months. My original purpose for being so far from home was to work with teenage girls living alone on the streets of this city. I was following up on a program I had helped establish the previous summer and was also gathering data for my graduate thesis.

Nairobi, a city with a population of 3 million, is estimated to have over 100,000 children living on its streets. The life expectancy of these children is 25 years old. Some are orphans of the AIDS epidemic, others turned out of their homes due to poverty, and others came from the villages in hope of a better life. Although all children have it rough on the streets, the girls live in much worse conditions than the boys. In a culture based on male dominance, girls are the lowest of the low on the streets. They are often "owned" by a street boy and are given out to other boys in exchange for food, money, or drugs. R*pe is an everyday occurrence in the life of a street girl. Beatings occurred regularly. Their food is the leftover of whatever was not eaten by the males. Drug use (mainly sniffing of glue) is rampant as an escape from the harsh reality of life on the streets. Pregnancies are feared and back alley ab*rtions are common.

On that particular July day, I stood in a mass of girls who lived on the street, whose everyday existence was a battle, who didn't know if they would make it through the night to see the next morning. Yet they surrounded me, lifting their voices strong and loud to a Lord they believed would save them. It had been a long process of reaching out to them, building their trust, and attempting to show them there was indeed a future away from life on the streets. I had spent hundreds and hundreds of hours with these girls, learning their language and culture, attempting to lead them away from the only life they knew (one of survival and fear) towards a life of promise. The program I helped establish (and my mother and countless of her friends helped fund), provided them a place to live, an education, and a hope for tomorrow. Many of the girls were ready to take the plunge and to enter the program.

As they continued to sing, I felt my heart grow heavy. I had struggled all summer with the task set before me. My goal was to convince these girls that the Lord had a plan for them, that they could take charge of their lives, that they could indeed leave the streets. My message was simple: It is going to be okay because God is good. The problem was I didn't believe a word of that. I questioned every single night about God's faithfulness to these children as I snuggled down in my sleeping bag while the girls I had spent the day with studying and crafting silly little things were on the streets that night trying to survive another day. God was good to me in my comfy American life, but what about these children...this continent...that he seemingly forgot? It was a spiritual battle that I would wage the entire time (and for some time to come) I was in Kenya.

Three days before I was set to leave at the end of the summer, the missionary's wife with whom I had been working with approached me about having a luncheon to celebrate the end of our girls summer (their winter) program. Being all about hosting a party, I was more than excited. My excitement waned quite a bit when the missionary's wife told me I would have to lead one last devotional with these girls. This was to be no standard devotional, but one where I was to tell the girls that they have to get off the streets, have to turnaround a life of sin, give their lives to the Lord, and establish a life based on Him.

Gulp.

That was one big order, especially since I didn't believe in the message I was to deliver. However, this missionary was quite persuasive and never took "no" for an answer. I threw myself into party planning mode, attempting to create something quite special for these girls. I travelled (with local friends/escorts...and found myself a victim in an attempted mugging in the process) all over town in search of festive items, flowers, and small gifts. I sought out American food to serve (KitKat bars in Japanese...who knows how old those were) and purchased enough chai to feed a small army. Yet, I continued to put off writing down any thoughts to share at that devotional.

The night before the big party I laid in my sleeping bag, attempting to think of what to say to these girls. My bible laid open in front of me, illuminated by the soft yellow glow of my trusty lantern (electricity...and running water...were rare). I had fought all summer long with myself over what I truly believed would happen to these girls. Would they be able to turn from their only known life of living on the streets and trust in God...and man...that there was a better way? Did I believe this was even possible?

I fleshed out some main points for my devotional the next day, wrote down a few scriptures, and called it a night...a long night of tossing and turning. The next morning I arrived at the building where we would be holding the celebration. We attempted to transform the bleak yellow concrete walls and dirt floors into some magical by spreading out dozens of roses (incredibly cheap in Kenya, my friend. Incredibly cheap.) and taping up various colors of streamers. Then the girls began to arrive. Group after group poured through the front gates. The final count was over one hundred, much more than had ever attended anything all summer.

Like most good devotionals, we began with singing. The songs started off muted and quiet, but after a few rounds the girls were singing with all of their might. Song after song poured from their hearts and they soon became sweaty and fatigued from all the emotion and commotion. It then came time for me to speak. We gathered in a large circle (my favorite way to teach) and I opened with a prayer, in hopes of stalling because the words for my devotional still were not there.

And then I opened my mouth to speak...but the words were not mine. I could hear my voice, the Southern lit of my accent, yet I knew that the thoughts and directives flowing from my lips were not from any note I had prepared the night before. The Holy Spirit was speaking through me. Despite my lack of faith, despite my cowardliness, He still used me. Later that afternoon four girls were baptized. Four other girls decided to join the program, turning away from their life on the street. Today the girls program is running strong, with various outreach ministries.

Later that evening, I wrote these words in my journal:

"If I don't trust that God has this under control, then I must be prepared to live a life of brokenness. If I believe that God cannot handle something than there is no need to believe in Him at all. I don't know the reasons behind such absolute brokenness here in Africa, but I know there is a God. And he is powerful. And he never changes. I know he says he has a plan for EVERYONE...including the street children of Nairobi. If God says he has a plan, then he has a plan. It is not for me to question, it is for me to trust in. God used me to convey hope despite my lack of faith. I get to board a plane in less than 48 hours and return to a life free of fear and want. These girls will never know such freedom. However, they will get to...and some have come...to understand a much greater freedom found only in Christ. It is through this I find my peace."

God spoke to me. God spoke through me. Despite my unbelief and doubt, His hand remained steady and His focus set. Just as Moses encountered God through a bush burning with fire but was not being consumed while he was in the desert, I encountered Him while in a personal spiritual desert.

Learn From My Mistakes, People

*Originally Published August 29, 2007*

Tips from the Trenches:

Here are a few tips I learned in my neverending role as Mommy today:


Give your toddler a shiny green apple. This will entertain him for at least 30 minutes as he sits on the kitchen floor munching away happily, lost in his thoughts.


Holding your prone-to-spit-up 3 month old above your head five minutes after eating in order to get a giggle out of her will cause her to spit up. Into your mouth.


Trains and small children don’t always result in laughter and fun. As we were out this morning I noticed our local train chugging up ahead of us. Being the savvy Mommy that I am, I pulled a U-turn (not knowing there was a police officer behind me—fortunately he did not seem to notice my traffic violation) in order for us to stop in a parking lot right next to the train tracks. I hurriedly grabbed Isaac from his car seat, anxious to see his utter joy as the train whizzed past us. What I did not expect was the loud screams that would come out of both of my children’s mouths as the train blew its whistle. Loud screams, my friend. Isaac calmed down rather quickly, until the conductor (who was only 10 feet from us by this point) noticed this sweet blonde hair boy watching the train and decided to blow the whistle again. It took five minutes to get them both calmed down and for all screaming and crying to subside. Hopefully they both will not shudder in fear every time we cross a railroad track in the near future.


Two year olds feel like an open sandbox makes the perfect resting spot for a half-eaten Popsicle.


If you watch an EBay auction’s final minutes over the phone with your mother, you most likely will end up bidding on an item in the final 12 seconds out of the sheer excitement of the moment. Then you will do an unfortunate dance of joy while shouting, “I won! I won!” to which your husband will remind you that you actually have to pay for such item.

An Open Letter of Apology

*Originally published on March 22, 2008*

Dear New Parents visiting our Neighborhood Park Yesterday,

First, let me congratulate you on your beautiful three month old daughter. I am sure she is quite lovely, but the 3.5 second glimpse I was able to catch of her when not chasing my own children only told me she was wearing pink socks. They were nice.

Allow me to apologize for the fact that all the pictures of your baby's first trip to the park will also include my son. Apparently he was quite excited to have someone else to share his new found discovery of a pine cone with other than his own Mommy. Years from now when you look back on little Susie's first ride on the swing or trip down the slide and see a smiling, blue-eyed boy in the corner of all your pictures, please know that he was well-intended in his apparent endeavors to ruin every family photo taken yesterday. His name is "Isaac" if you care to simply write him into your daughter's baby book.

Also know that if you are blessed with more children, you will likely allow number two (or three or four...) to sit in the wood chips and dig to her heart's content. You will not panic when she decides to sample her surroundings, just calmly rake the wood chip from her mouth while continuing on with your conversation (I know witnessing this was a bit horrific to you at the time yesterday). If you are truly blessed to have children close together, you will simply look at the oldest with a confused expression when he too decides to eat a wood chip simply because his younger sister did (fortunately, he chewed his up).

Best of luck in parenting your new bundle of joy. The weather is predicted to be nice again today so perhaps you can re-do your park photo shoot minus my children.

Sincerely,

A Fellow Parent

The Joy of Grandparents

See these people: They showed up on my doorstep yesterday afternoon and I figured I was either legally or contractually obligated to let them inside.

Truthfully, I am delighted they are here, as are the rest of my family. The kids did not know that Nanny and PopPop were coming for a visit and both screamed (in joy) when the woke from their nap and discovered their grandparents. How much fun is the grandparent/child relationship (even if that whole "free babysitting" thing never came into play...which we are so thankful it does!)? Isaac and Evelyn just adore all four of their grandparents (and all of their great-grandparents). Last night after supper they both ran frantic, hysterical laps around our front sidewalk in pure joy of the fact they had the attention of their beloved Nanny and PopPop.

Because my parents are in town, we have a busy next few days enjoying their company, going on some excursions, attending a MOPS meeting (Isaac and my dad are taking their traditional trek to the Bass Pro Shop during that time), and lots of fun play time. I did not want this ol blog to get neglected in the meantime, nor did I want to be attached to my laptop while my parents are visiting, so I am going to be putting up some "Oldies but Goodies" posts.

Hope you enjoy!

In the Name of Being Transparent...

I am currently in the depth's of Beth Moore's latest bible study, "Esther: It's Hard Being a Woman."

I love me some Beth Moore, partly because she is hilarious, partly because she knows the scripture most likely better than she knows the back of her hand, and partly because she understands the importance of a good teasing comb. Her newest study is excellent and each week I am taking away valuable life lessons.

Today she touched on the importance of being transparent, of allowing your genuine self to shine through in order for God to work in your life. I am many things, but "transparent" really is not a word I would use to describe myself. I am trying to be more of an open book as opposed to a locked safe, but habits die hard.

In the meantime, and in the name of being "transparent", I am going to share just a few more Mommy Confessions...

*The little girl below laid down on a speed bump today in a full-out fit. A speed bump people. A speed bump in the middle of a busy grocery store parking lot. Fortunately I had my arms full of a bag of grocery items, my large purse, a sippy cup, and a stuffed animal, so removing her from the speed bump was quite the easy, enjoyable task.

*Isaac was sent home today from school with his first little reading assignment. To say I am giddy is an understatement. Isaac and I have been dipping our toes into the "Beginning to Read" pond for awhile now, but his teacher has been holding off a bit (she likes to wait until the year before kindergarten...which for Isaac, could be two years away). I am such the nerd that my children's preschool homework makes me oh so happy.

*Lately, Isaac has been asking me what time I go to bed. I know the question soon to follow that inquiry is why there is such a discrepancy between kids bedtimes and parent bedtimes. His inquisitive mind is just a bit much somedays (in a good way). I never really state a specific time when answering his question (he has a clock...so he knows about time), but attempt to skirt the issue best I can...while possibly giving him the impression Tobe and I go to bed mere minutes after he retires for the evening. Little does he know that most evenings we pull out the Wii and enjoy some mature, intellectual rounds of Mario Kart.

*The little girl below had the hardest time sitting politely through Sunday Lunch with her grandparents this past weekend. She and I finally ended up in the car while the others finished their meals. Later that evening when I asked her what her favorite part of the day had been (a standard bathtub question at casa de phillips) she replied, "Eating with Nana/Papa." I might have slightly sarcastically replied, "Really? THAT was your favorite part of the day?"

Bless her heart. I hope the Lord uses all that passion he placed in her little body because it might be the death of me one day.

*I mentioned yesterday the children and I had done a craft involving crayon shavings and a hot iron. I believe I also mentioned that we will not being doing such a craft anytime in the near future. Well, said craft might have "accidentally" found a home in the garbage can this afternoon during naptime...

And the best confession of all...I truly believe that my kids are the most hysterical things around. Sorry, but it is true (Hopefully you feel the same about yours). Yesterday Isaac walked into my bedroom, wearing my tennis shoes and a set of headphones, looking quite discouraged. When asked why he was troubled, he said it was because he was attempting to figure out how to get inside the television set to play with Tigger and Pooh. About ten minutes later, Evelyn raced up to me, baby doll in hand, exclaiming, "My baby eat a chicken leg! My baby eat a chicken leg!"

Seriously, what a riot!

Anyone else feel the need to practice some transparency?

Apparently, There is No Recession at Sesame Street Place

The big day finally arrived on Saturday morning. The day we had been preparing the children for all week by letting them watch various clips on YouTube and participating in many discussions on what the letter of the day might possibly be.

Saturday, the Phillips Family headed out to Sesame Street Live.

I am not one bit embarrassed to reveal that I seriously prayed that this would be a successful trip for our little family of four.

Having never partaken of such a children's event, I was a bit nervous as to how our children would react. Evelyn is a bit of a question mark in such settings and Isaac can wear his heart on his sleeve. Tobe and I knew this was going to be a really great 90 minutes or a really dreadful way to spend the first part of a weekend.

Fortunately, it turned out to be a really great 90 minutes.

Being the nerd that I am, I currently receive email updates from the Sesame Workshop. Because I am on their mailing list, we get to purchase tickets to such Sesame Street events during presales. All of this to say, we were on the fourth row, center stage left due to our early ticket buying tactics.

Both kids loved the show. Seems that ol Sesame Street still has a knack for understanding the preschool crowd because there was no grand entrance of characters (which can really freak a parent kid out) but rather a gradual presentation of each cast member. The production was not too loud nor obnoxious (however, I am still singing several late 80's songs whose covers were used. Wonder how The Pointer Sisters feel about Elmo singing their hits...). There were no stringent rules about what can/cannot be taken into the arena, so we were able to cart along snacks for the kids.

Overall it was a great experience, in case these two faces did not already relay that sentiment to you.

Although our country seems to be tightening its purse strings and the stock market gets worse every day, it appears as if the kiddy market is doing splendidly. As the house lights were turned on at the beginning of intermission, the aisles were suddenly swarmed with employees holding large displays of Elmo balloons. The shrieks of "Elmo balloon" were almost louder than the actual Elmo who had been singing on stage mere minutes before.

We aren't really the souvenir type people, especially when everything being sold in the stands could be purchased at one's local Target for about ten dollars cheaper. Fortunately such stands were not flashy nor particularly appealing, so neither child even noticed them.

Evelyn did however notice the Elmo balloon.

For a girl who goes crazy over balloons and Elmo, the combination could have been deadly.

Fortunately I had had some wits about me earlier in the morning and had stuffed a few books in our bag in case we had to wait awhile for the show to begin. I was able to distract E. with a book and some crackers until the cast returned to the stage. During that time of distraction, I casually leaned back and asked the parents behind me how much such a balloon cost.

$10.00, people.

Seriously, ten dollars for a balloon that was not completely filled with helium...meaning that by Sunday morning most kids would wake to discover Elmo's head lying lifeless in the floor.

Apparently the recession has not hit Sesame Street, because those balloons were selling faster than hot cakes (whatever that means).

In summary, Sesame Street Live was fun times. Fun times indeed.

Our Little Ones Taking it All In

Our View
Isaac and Me...not sure what he is looking at

Evelyn discovered her parents' drink. She had taken several big gulps of Dr. Pepper before we noticed. We let her have one sip more to commemorate such an occasion. By the way, we don't plan on this occurring again until years down the road.

Tobe and Isaac

Isaac had his first batch of cotton candy, thus the reason for the blue teeth.

Characters came down the aisles to greet the children

Notice big brother's arm around his sister

On a very random side note, I thought it would be a good idea this morning to do a craft with the children involving crayon shavings.

Let me just be very clear in saying that crayon shavings + young children + indoors really never equal a great idea.

We might be discovering crayon shavings for years to come here at casa de phillips.

Friday Finds: UPDATED

Here are a few links to enjoy as you head into the weekend:

*Running of the Brides

"Friends" had Monica participate in the "Running of the Brides" during her wedding planning days. Loved it. This morning on The Today Show the beginning minutes of this year's NYC race were aired. Again, loved it. Despite the fact that I have been married for almost eight years and already own a beautiful wedding gown that was merely worn for a few hours, I kind of want to do the whole "Running of the Brides" thing. It is no secret that I *heart* a good bargain...especially one that requires some quick moves and possibly throwing around an elbow or two. Perhaps Tobe and I should decide to renew our vows one day just so I have an excuse to attend such a sale...

*The Questions Being Raised About "Jon and Kate Plus 8"

I have talked about Jon and Kate and their crew before, usually as a fan of the show in the past. However, their reality television ride is starting to gather some questions and ol J&K are beginning to raise some eyebrows. I found the above article to be quite interesting, a bit disturbing, and a tad hopeful that perhaps someone will realize children and reality television are not a great combination. Again, remember if someone every approaches you to turn your life into reality TV...just say "No!"

*Potty Training Tidbits from a Mommy Blogger

I am gearing up to head down the potty road with Miss E. She has shown signs of readiness for quite a while now and a teacher in her bible class recently commented that she felt that Evelyn was ready to use the potty as well. Although entering the diaper-free world before the age of two seems a bit scary, I think we should take this leap while E. shows interest. We are in the "discussion" stage with her right now, reading some books and talking about big girl underwear. In fact, she and I just purchased her first pair of big girl panties this morning, complete with Cinderella and ruffles adorning them. (Thanks, Ginger, for your Princess Pep Talk). Our other options, other than plain ol pink, were either My Little Pony (a strong contender...E. loves her ponies) or Bratz (terribly scared the 2T package might possibly contain a thong). Obviously we went with Cinderella.

*Our Destination Tomorrow

I am hoping neither child passes out from fright or sheer excitement. I am praying their parents' nerves can handle all the frenzy as well.

*A Tad Too Much Multitasking

Really? The part I really like from this story is the fact the lady was also talking on her cell phone. People really scare me sometimes.

"I Very Much Like That"

As we sat down to supper on Sunday evening, Isaaac proclaimed, "This is my favorite dinner EVER, Mommy! I want you to make this every night!"

That is music to my mommy ears and fortunately we were merely dining on homemade burgers, fries, and baked beans. Easy-peasy.

Lately when Isaac likes something he says, "I very much like that." Gosh, the whole mismatched sentence of a three year old just melts my heart. His new "I very much like that" item is fruit salsa. He has added it to his "Please make this every night" menu.

In honor of the fact that it was 85 degrees here today (ugh), my son got his first sunburn (In February!!!), and because strawberries are on sale the weeks following Valentines Day (did you know that little tidbit), I will now share with you my lovely fruit salsa recipe:

Ingredients:
A pint of fresh strawberries (Frozen won't work with this)
One large Granny Smith Apple
One orange
Fresh tortillas (fresh, rather than processed, tortillas will change your life. I get mine here.)
Cinnamon/sugar combo (Make your own by using two parts sugar and one part cinnamon)

Cut the apples and strawberries into very small pieces. Combine strawberry and apple pieces into a bowl, squeeze about 1/4 cup orange juice over mixture. Chill.Cut tortillas into triangles. Heat oil in large skillet. Fry triangles for about 30 seconds on each side or until lightly browned (You can bake these..but they are not as good)
Remove triangles from hot oil and place on a paper towel. Immediately sprinkle with cinnamon sugar and allow to cool.

Serve fruit salsa with cinnamon chips and listen to your family proclaim, "I very much like that!"

***

Yesterday morning I noted that Evelyn was sleeping quite later than usual. I went in her room to wake her when I discovered a stomach bug had struck her sometime in the early morning hours. The poor girl just lay frozen in a big mess in her bed.

I plopped her in the bath and began the ever-fun Mommy task of stripping bed linens while attempting to not become sick my ownself. Isaac wandered into the bathroom to see what the deal was. While I was carting laundry to the washing machine, he decided it was time to step up to the big brother plate. He brought his breakfast into the bathroom and proceeded to finish eating while singing a collection of E.'s favorite songs to her while she soaked away in the tub.

I am beginning to think they might actually like each other...

The Princess Phenomenon

We are slowly treading water here at casa de phillips....pink tinted water known as the "Disney Princess Phase."

Lord, help us.

Honestly I am not really sure what I think about the whole princess phenomenon. If you have been a reader for any amount of time at all, you know by now that we have no issue with the Disney Corporation itself. In fact, we are likely responsible for the top CEO's receiving bonuses this year despite a recession.

It is the notion of a princess that causes me to pause just a bit.

When Evelyn was a baby, I decided we would not take the Disney Princess route when she became older. We are not fond of calling her "Princess" because quite honestly she holds not one drop of royal blood in her little body that we are aware of. We love our children to pieces, but in no means do we believe either of them to be of such prestigious lineage.

Evelyn is beyond precious and the world is at her feet, but I feel a bit hesitant about calling her a nickname that might promote a feeling of entitlement. Long story short, we have never called her a princess. We prefer to stick to such endearing terms as "Bay-wa" or "Ev", which will likely cause her great embarrassment when referred to as such names during the adolescent years.

When we began Christmas shopping this past fall, I spotted a plush Cinderella doll and coordinating pony that would make a perfect gift for E. Cinderella's hair can be combed, the horse can be groomed, and both are soft enough to be loved on fiercely by a 1.5 year old little girl. My idea of "No Princesses" was a bit lost as I admired Cinderella's beautiful, yet durable, ball gown. "Cin-a-rell-a" has become a cherished toy, often spending her days being pushed to and fro in the baby stroller.

Due to that Disney brainwashing magic, the Princess fire was lit by that small gift. Evelyn can now spot a "Pin-cess" fifty yards away. She owns a pair of Princess house shoes and I just lugged home a Seek and Find Princess book over the weekend, in which she quickly learned how to identify and name all of Princesses.

Obviously, I have backtracked a bit on the whole "No Disney Princess at My House" rule just a bit. Now I am left wondering how one juggles princess play without becoming princess obsessed. How do I let Evelyn soak up all the romance and beauty of a dew faced young girl matched with a strapping lad while letting her know that despite their stunning effect, Sleeping Beauty likely is pretty rough looking at 5:30am and Prince Charming often times leaves old dirty socks laying around the castle? That although fun, very few of us get to ride around on a magic carpet over our kingdom and rarely does my Fairy Godmother stop by for a visit.

Ugh. This whole parenting thing is tough sometimes.

Those Darn Fisher Price Little People

In the days when I was a teacher, I had a classroom filled with a variety of centers and stations. These areas were mainly designated to foster play in my students as a way to release stress or process emotions. Because the kids in my class were placed with me due to behavior issues, those areas were used quite a bit.

Often times I would see a child playing at the sandtable, muttering things to themselves. On the occasions that I could make out what was being said I would hear the child reenacting prior conversations (usually with a parent) or situations.

Play is a great tool for kids to convey what exactly is on their little minds, behavior issue or not.

Monday is one of my favorite days of the week because I keep us home on that day. I attempt to avoid scheduling any playdates, I postpone all trips to Target, and I usually cook Mac-n-Cheese for lunch...it is a great day. This morning we had quite the lengthy play session with some new toys from the consignment sale. As lunch time neared I decided a short video would help everyone start to settle down and give me 15 minutes or so to do some writing.

As Isaac and I (and no less than 15 stuffed animals) sat on the couch, E. found herself a place on the floor along with her beloved Little People figures. Soon Winnie the Pooh and Tigger filled our television screen and I became lost in thought as I jotted ideas in my little notebook. A few minutes later, I heard Evelyn talking. I glanced up, attempting not to catch her eye, and saw her energetically playing with her new Little People SUV (again, consignment find), the Mommy figure, and the baby figure.

Here is the conversation that ensued from little Evelyn's mouth:

"Stro-der" (Stroller) said while holding Mommy figure

"No! Walk!" said while holding baby figure

"Stro-der" Mommy figure again

The conversation went downhill after this little exchange due to the arrival of the Little People school bus on the scene and the distraction of attempting to tame the mane of the lion figure.

Like I said above, play is a great tool for kids to convey emotions.

Evelyn and I have a very similar stroller discussion on a regular basis. Seems that her Little People experience such issue as well.

Perhaps I should drop another dollar in the "Therapy Fund" jar on my way to bed tonight...

Bargain Hunting

Despite the fact that I married a mega music lover, I have never camped out for concert tickets. Not many huge concerts came to the area where I grew up and the shows that did come one was always guaranteed tickets. These days TicketMaster and the Internet have completely done away with the need for concert-goers to set up camp outside ticket offices.

Yet Saturday I found myself camping out, awaiting for doors to be open.

I was not waiting to purchase some tickets to a potentially sold-out show. Nope. I was waiting to get inside a children's consignment sale.

I guess one can officially say they are a mommy when one lines up two hours before a consignment event begins to make sure they have a prime spot in line. Fortunately I was able to huddle together with a die-hard group of shoppers who had brought their conversion van (and arrived five hours early to get in line) to avoid the wind and cold we experienced here on Saturday morning.

My two hour wait was rewarded as I have successfully secured Evelyn's spring/summer wardrobe for this year, most of it items still bearing their store tags. Unfortunately boys clothes are usually too worn to purchase at these sales, so Isaac was not so lucky. I did manage to find some books he has yet to own (including a Richard Scary one...his new favorite) so he didn't notice the large amount of clothes I carted in to the house last night.

On to the exciting part...the dresses.

Oh how I love little girl dresses.

Here is just a sample of the dresses I purchased for Evelyn yesterday:

There are some Royal Child, Strasburg, Luli & Me, Janie and Jack, and Chocolate Soup dresses in this mix. I might shed a tear or twelve when the day arrives that Evelyn is too big to wear smocked outfits.

Notice the dress on the far left...I was seriously considering not purchasing it. It was priced a bit high for such a sale and I was about to place it back on the rack. It was at that moment a lady stopped me and told me to purchase the dress. She said she was speaking on behalf of my mother (who she does not know) and that I had to buy that dress for my little girl. I figured anyone brave enough to state they were speaking on behalf of someone's mother must be the real deal, so I purchased it. I cannot wait for spring to get here so Miss E. can sport that frock in particular.

Speaking of E., here are her and the brother enjoying an afternoon snack outside.

This little boy informed me before going out on this particular afternoon that, "It is a great day for gardening!" I guess gardening requires one to wear a too small pith helmet...

The proclamations that come out of that boy's mouth on an almost hourly basis keep us laughing. From telling his sister that she needs to compromise to planning a sibling sleepover (not gonna happen considering the sister sleeps in a crib) to deciding that the letter "I" needs three lines as opposed to the standard two, the boy is a riot.

My family loves pancakes.

Okay...let me be a bit honest and say that Tobe, Isaac, and I love pancakes. We are pretty confident that Evelyn will one day love food other than chicken nuggets, fries, and yogurt but are prepared to host her future wedding reception offering only those three items if the need be.

Anyway..pancakes. They are a big hit around here and are usually reserved for Saturday mornings. However, Isaac enjoys a mid-week pancake as well. Mixing up a huge batch on a Tuesday morning currently does not work with our schedule, so I came up with a solution. When I make pancakes on a Saturday morning, I have begun making extra. I then let those extra cool, place them in Glad's Press and Seal Wrap, and toss them in the freezer.




When Isaac requests some pancakes on a random morning, I simply cut out how many I think he will eat and toss them in the toaster oven.

Easy stuff.

*Yes, that is Halloween-themed Press and Seal wrap. It was on clearance and as far as I know, my freezer is not offended by inappropriate holiday decor use.

***

One final Mommy confession from here at casa de phillips and then I will let the subject go. Today we had a contractor coming to measure for new counter tops in our kitchen (Oh Happy Day!). Isaac woke up at 5am this morning and never went back to sleep. By 9am, he was a grumpy mess. He could not get along with his sister, he could not obey, and he simply could not cope with life.

Things were not happy here and were going downhill quick. A lid to a toy storage container had been broken by someone's head, a closet rod had been pulled down, Evelyn's nose was constantly running and snot covered the front of her PJs, and by 9:30am Isaac was getting dressed in my closet (the story is simply too long to go into). I had reverted into my voice used in my days of teaching Special Education, one that is calm and monotone and holding back every emotion possible.

I was convinced should that contractor arrive at that very minute he might possibly think he had entered a home for the insane (or at the very least the sleep-deprived).

I huddled the children together, issued a game plan (cleaning up the chaos room-by-room), set out a reward (Nemo Fruit Snacks...the new favorite), and got everyone busy.

By the time the contractor rang our door bell at 10:15am, both children were dressed and sitting quietly at the kitchen table doing a craft while I worked on my menu planning.

The contractor got busy measuring and plotting out our plan for new countertops, only pausing once to comment on what a relaxing atmosphere we had in our home.

I offered a little shrug and smile, uttering a simple "Thanks."

Give Me A Break

Mommy guilt.

I believe they inject it into all moms at one point or another during the birthing process, perhaps through the epidural line, maybe in some post-labor spiked cranberry juice (or in the innumerable bowls of Fruit Loops I consumed hours after Evelyn arrived into the world), or perhaps through a secret little device in the pen used to sign the adoption papers.

However "they" do it, that Mommy guilt is firmly implanted into the body the instant a woman takes hold of her child.

I am loving the Mommy confessions comments. Kelly--I used to sequester Isaac in front of a Baby Einstein movie when pregnant with Evelyn and in desperate need of some shut-eye. Ginger--I am loving your Nutrigrain breakfast story. Too funny. Ask my children about breakfast picnics sometime. They can totally relate to Gregory and Claire. Kelly S---you will appreciate the fact I have never sent a text in my life. Seriously.

Keep those Mommy confessions coming. I know we all have a whole bunch of "I-let-my-kids-eat-ice-cream-for-breakfast-just-to-hold-off-on-the-tantrums-for-another-few-hours" type stories we are just aching to tell someone.

I think the greatest thing about hearing other mommies relay their weak points is that we feel a bit better about our own weak points. We start to think that maybe we are not doing such a poor job in the parenting department, that perhaps our children might actually make it through adolescence without a stint in juvie or an appearance on Dr. Phil. Lately I have been trying to cut other mommies some slack, attempting not to look down on them when their kid is the holy terror at the park and also attempting not to emulate them because I feel they happen to have it all together at that exact moment. Mainly I have been trying to cut myself some slack, accepting that there will most likely be crumbs in my house round the clock and that there are days when one or both of my children transform into some sort of possessed being and naptime cannot come fast enough.

Any more confessions lingering out there anyone feels the need to divulge? Think of this as a bit of group therapy...

Confessions of a Sanity-Deprived Mommy

1. The oldest kid here at casa de phillips is really struggling this week. The tears are just flowing...over anything and nothing all at once. We're not really sure if it is sleep issues (the child gets up much too early each morning), Mommy issues (I have been super busy and gone some this week), or plain being-a-three-year-old issues. Regardless, he went to bed E.A.R.L.Y. tonight. I have prayed many a prayer since then that he wakes up in a much better mood in the morning (preferably sometime after 7 am).

2. I had a brief (is five minutes considered brief?) moment of panic this afternoon thinking someone had stolen my car. Just as I was starting to become short of breath over how someone took the car (along with some of E.'s birthday presents in the trunk that I purchased at great clearance prices and a new CD that I am loving right now) and how we would have to purchase another vehicle (we have no car debt), I remembered that I was driving Tobe's car. It was about three feet in front of me during my time of panic.

3. My 21 month old still takes a bottle before going to bed for the night. I am not mentally or physically prepared for the battle that will ensue when it is time to get rid of said bottle.

4. On occasion, Isaac asks to play with a toy train from his early toddler days. He believes said train lives in our attic. What he doesn't realize is that the train was sold in a consignment sale quite the while back because Tobe and I could not tolerate the noise it made.

5. When taking her bottle, Evelyn often requests for the television to be turned on. This is likely a sign that she is much too old for a bottle.

6. For whatever reason, both of my kids enjoy the television program "The Biggest Loser". They refer to it as "The Exercise Class Show." We do not allow our kids to watch normal TV (besides the occasional cooking show or sporting event), but they are fixated by trainers Bob and Jillian so I indulge them on occasion by allowing this show to be viewed for a few minutes. After watching about five minutes of the program last night, Isaac vowed to only eat healthy food and avoid french fries so his body can grow big. He attempted to encourage his sister to do the same. I seriously doubt this will ever happen, since the girl lives for french fries.

7.I usually eat at least three fruit snacks out of the package before passing it along to my kids. I always take an orange one and avoid purple at all costs.

8. When either Tobe or I are drinking a soda, the kids think we are drinking juice specially designed for mommies and daddies (we have never specifically said this...it is an assumption they have come to all on their own). They have no idea that Coke, Dr. Pepper, or Sprite even exist, much less what they are missing out on. Please don't tell them until they are at least 18.

9. Tobe and I find it hilarious when Evelyn says the word "delicious" (de-lish-shish) and we ask her to say it multiple times a day. In her stubborn nature, she always yells back, "No! De-lish-shish!" which cracks us up even more.

10. Isaac informed me this morning he needed to check his email. I informed him that he does not have an email account, nor will he until he is quite the big kid. However, I figure by the time he enters Kindergarten kids will be writing their hotmail address directly under their names on worksheets.

11. There are currently four parenting books on my nightstand. I wish I could simply place them on my head while I sleep and learn all their tricks/tips/techniques through osmosis and read something a bit more interesting in my free time.

12. Tobe told me this evening that the average couple speaks to each other only 12 minutes each day. 12 minutes? I talk more than that to Tobe during the process of waking up and putting my contacts in each morning. I don't know if he told me this random statistic as a way of saying, "Look how well we communicate!" or to say, "Seriously..it would be okay if you talked just a bit less."

13. The children think putting used diapers/pull-ups in the diaper pail is a fun little task. Our diaper pail resides in the garage and both get quite excited when asked to dispose of the diapers. I am hoping to keep this excitement going until Evelyn is potty-trained.

14.Isaac had banana bread for breakfast, which means a good 1/3 of his slice resulted in crumbs on the floor. As of 8:30pm, I have yet to sweep those crumbs up.

15.Evelyn hates the hair dryer. There are times (usually Sundays) when her hair is a fright and needs some TLC by a round brush, a spritz of water, and my big lime green hairdryer. On these occasions, I have to corner her in the bathroom and frantically attempt to dry her hair while she screams. It is such a tender moment. I am sure Hallmark is set to include such a scene in a commercial any day now.

Any confessions lingering out there from other mommies?

The Wonder of the World Wide Web

As a freshman in college I kept hearing talk of this thing called the "World Wide Web".

I was a bit confused, because I could find no tool on the handy word processor I had drug to college titled "World Wide Web" nor had anyone told me about such a creature in my high school typing class (However, a fellow student did pierce her ears and those of a friend one day during said class. Ah, tales of high school. Tobe loves when I relate such stories.). As college progressed, so did my knowledge about this whole notion of the Internet. I quickly learned how to check my webmail in the university's campus center, how to find articles on the psychology database, and how to shop at Gap.com at all hours of the day.

Obviously I was taking full advantage of the Internet in those days.

Despite the fact that I can hardly remember the world before the World Wide Web became second nature to us all, I still struggle at times to completely embrace all of it has to offer. My computing skills have surpassed those of my word processing days, however can be a bit basic at times.

If you glance at the left side of this blog, you will notice I have added a new button along with links that correspond to my "Feeding My Family on $100 a Week" series. Although not super fancy, they do provide a quick reference to these posts. Please enjoy at your leisure.

My Funny Valentine

Despite my misgivings about Valentine's Day being an actual holiday and not simply a day for flower grower's everywhere to hike the price of roses to an unspeakable amount, we had a great V-Day here at casa de phillips.

Friday evening, I made a heart-shaped pizza: I know that one can purchase a heart-shaped pan to create such a lovely masterpiece at home, but I scoff at such notions. Actually I just never made it to the store for such a purchase, so I opted to sculpt my own heart with my own hands before baking our pizza. Isaac was impressed....after I told him what shape the pizza was supposed to be. It was yummy despite its odd configuration.

Saturday morning the family awoke to a decorated breakfast table, filled with the Valentines we had crafted for each other and a few little treats for the kids (candy and art supplies...because one can never have too much of either). We feasted on heart-shaped chocolate chip pancakes and juice and coffee. Again, the hearts were a bit more impressionistic rather than the traditional heart shape due to the fact I had to free hand "draw" them on the griddle. I forgot to snap a picture, but I am sure your imagination can only do their image justice.
Isaac is all about a holiday celebration so he was quite excited about the fact February 14th had finally rolled around. He came running into the living room that morning where I was having my quiet time and yelled, "Happy Valentines Day!" while still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

After breakfast, I packed the kids up to head out to the grandparents house for a 24+ hour stay. They anxiously awaited Nana's arrival, peering out the front door hoping to glimpse the Nanamobile (our name for Nana's cool van with DVD player). The two decided to do some packing of their own, stuffing odds and ends into the gift bags which had held their Valentine's earlier in the morning.

Gift bags (especially those purchased for 49 cents) were not designed to withhold the "loving" of toddlers or preschoolers. We are currently in need of scotch tape and packing tape here at casa de phillips after I had to use up our supply in failed attempts at reconstructing these bags various times.

Nana did arrive and took the kids away. After a brief pause to enjoy the silence of our house, Tobe and I packed ourselves up and headed out the door. We took in a movie, then left the suburbs for the lights of the big city.

In the big city we dined at one of our favorite restaurants (favorite because of the yummy Mexican food and also because of the absence of anyone under the age of 18) then caught Alejandro Escovedo in concert at a quaint music hall. Tickets to this concert were actually a Christmas present to Tobe from me and we were doubly fortunate the show was scheduled for Valentines.

We were lucky to meet Alejandro (Mr. Escovedo???) after the show and snap a quick photo with him. It was a great concert and a really intimate setting. Fun times, especially on Valentine's Day.

Because we were sans children and already had a room at a fancy hotel nearby, we headed out for dessert after the show. I had a brief moment of panic when we thought I had accidentally ordered the $95 glass of champagne rather than the $8 glass (I didn't...whew. That would have blown an entire week's grocery budget in a few gulps!), but were able to enjoy our yummy apple pie/cinnamon ice cream/hot buttery sauce concoction.

This morning we lingered over breakfast, watched morning television that did not involve animation, and talked without being interrupted. It was fun times.

After browsing a book store and making a quick trip to Banana Republic in hopes of finding a new pair of trouser jeans (somehow both the zipper broke and I ripped a hole in the side of my favorite trouser jeans this weekend), we set out to scoop up the kids from the grandparents. They were happy to see us, but both cried when they discovered they had to go home with us.

Apparently Nana and Papa are much more fun than Mommy and Daddy...I suppose that is the way life should be, huh?

We returned to casa de phillips early this evening and quickly got back into our groove, with Tobe doing laundry, Isaac practicing his baseball skills which somehow resulted in "accidentially" hitting his sister a time or two, and me unloading the dishwasher (my endless chore).

Hope everyone had a great weekend as well!

A Bicycle Built for Two

These two little people are becoming fast friends/worst enemies at an alarming rate. Their affection levels soar as they fall into fits of giggles or ran off to play something together, only to become lost as a heated battle ensues over a toy (this morning it was the 2 inch Lincoln Log flag, yesterday a puzzle meant for a 12 month old) mere minutes later.

They don't seem to mind the frantic nature of their relationship, often consoling the sibling who just got reprimanded for hitting or helping retrieve a lost juice cup moments after attempting slamming the door in one's face.

Although they do not seemed fazed in the least by their shaky friendship, somedays it simply unnerves me. I wonder, "Will they talk again after they turn 22?" "Will they fight like this when it is time to decide what nursing home to place me in?" "Will we even make it to elementary school age if this fighting continues?".

This red hair might turn gray quicker than expected with such cycling attitudes around here.

Today we ventured out to the library, which has quickly become a favorite Friday tradition. Seems not too many people go to the library on a Friday morning, so we typically have the entire children's section to ourselves.

It is quite blissful.

I can browse the books, the kids can explore the play area or the computers, and we do not have to contend with twenty other parents and children. This morning after I had the children set up at their respective computers (with one computer separating them as a precautionary measure), I made a beeline for parenting section in search of books with such titles as "How to Parent Siblings Effectively" or "Brothers and Sisters Who Never, Ever Disagree" and perhaps "Stellar Parenting Tips for Individuals Named Lynley".

Although none of those particular titles lined the shelves (go figure), there were rows of books on sibling interaction. It was a tad overwhelming. Just as I was attempting to make my selection, I happened to get a glimpse of Isaac out of the corner of my eye. He had gotten up from his computer and was gently replacing Evelyn's headphones and attempting to straighten her hairbow, while showing her how to work the computer game.

My heart just melted.

I decided we were doing okay on with the whole sibling thing. No one has broken any bones yet and they both seem interested in each other still. Perhaps I can hold off on that type of parenting book for a few more months...