sort of. Mostly I'm probably hyperventilating, alternating with praying...yelling...praying...yelling...
Um, it's sort of like the deployment hamster wheel of the wife of the deployed Marine who is just looney enough to homeschool, run a home business AND maintain a level of TYPE A that is really treatable with just enough wine....
and then, I'm stupid enough to page back through my old posts. Yes, I just said STUPID. Don't page back through old posts that are funny, cute and quite memorable when you are completely incapable of posting even a blurb about your kids because you are so tired most of the time that you forget how to speak properly...
All wittiness aside...all clan mac moments here in a nutshell!
Eva:
Chapterbookaholic...
Has developed a sassiness that could cost her one of her nine lives...
BUT, is so sweet and helpful when I let her be. (Yes, I just said that too. I'm having a control freak problem right now...)
Loves. Loves. Loves! the other mini macs! Loves to chat with me, Loves to dress her little sib, Mercy. Wishes with every fiber of her being that I could spend more time with her. Breaks my heart that I can't figure out how. (Cloning? Am I the next Dolly?)
Amazes me constantly with how capable she is. Gets ALL of her littles up and dressed with just a little prompting from the Mommy. What, oh what, would I do without her?
Eva...you ROCK!
A flitting, funny, fabulous whirl of a girl!
Charley...
Oh, what can you say about a whirling dervish of a tomboy who thinks that wearing a dress is a punishment? Seriously...we just ended a 3 day run of dress punishment. When I told her she could pick out her own clothes for tomorrow, you'd have thought she won the lego lottery. On the flip side, a math lesson is like a treat and her math book is a coveted work of love. Her heart is so big it gives me goosebumps and her temper is so epic it takes every ounce of my self control not too just bust out laughing every time she stomps out of the room with her arms crossed and her lower lip so far out she's almost tripping on it...
Like a sponge, she just absorbs all that surrounds her and constantly astounds me with what pops out of those rosebud lips of hers. She too, is a little mommy. Although...she tends to be more of an arm wrestling, JUST DO IT NOW, kind of little mommy. (Hmmm, who could she be like?)
Mercy...
Little miss sassy señorita smarty pants...heart of gold, uber-sensitive, brutally honest, unfailingly sweet and VERY old soul. She randomly decided about 2 weeks ago that she'd like to be potty trained...and she did it almost entirely on her own. THANK YOU JESUS. For all of you who doubt his essential existence and grace...have 3 kids in diapers while your hubby is deployed, then have one decide to cut you a break and actually deposit her own by-products into a toilet...you WILL believe. forever. I promise.
Listening to her speak in paragraphs and try to mother each and every one of her siblings is the sweetest sound. I'm confounded on a minute by minute basis by her maturity of speech and ability to know EXACTLY what she is doing. She is the most calculated child I've given birth to yet...CRAP. I'm in for it in a major way.
Max...
All boy...almost all the time. The poor kid is certain that he is adrift in a sea of estrogen. He is finally starting to realize that he and Sam must be a testosterone team if they have any hope of surviving the ovarian regime in which they are drowning...He'll push the stroller with his dog in it, but he will TAKE YOU OUT if you try to steal it away. Picky...picky...picky eater, it would be easier if I just pureed his favorite foods and fed him through a straw. But, oh wow, can he make a mama feel special. His kisses are like winning the lottery and that smile is magazine cover material! Trucks, cars and dirt are his best friends, just make sure you are ready with the soap when he finally realizes he's dirty! Oh, and did I mention exactly how he gives those kisses? He fixes you with those eyeballs...tilts his head just a bit, leans in as smooth as silk, places his hands on your cheeks and plants one on ya. and lingers like a little lothario. Watch it, chickies!
Sam...
Sam, sweet Sam. Or should I say, Tank, BIG TANK. Fighting for his place, he is quite certain that none of this family is going to steamroll over him! When I say tank, I am NOT kidding. That kid has a grip that could take down the world arm wrestling champ, a right hook that is golden gloves worthy and an appetite that is bottomless. Big man does NOT miss a meal. There is currently a phase happening in which he allows me the privilege of rocking him every night...PLEASE GOD, don't let this phase pass...it is my most cherished moment of the day. I really don't know how I made it this far into motherhood without this. None of the other beans loved rocking quite as much as Sam. Mercy was a close second, Charley & Max tied for 3rd, Eva did NOT like it. :-( Sam is making up for it all. Thank you Jesus. Sam Sam is not happy unless he is in the middle of the chaos, learning how to jump off the play table or roll end to end on the couch right along with the big kids. He's repeating tons of words, so I guess I'd better quite cursing like a sailor...and the best thing of all? He SMACKS his lips when I bring him his bottles. IT is stinking fabulous. The little turkey never does it for the camera, so I guess I"ll have to remember it in my mind movie mode. Smilin' Sam, I just love that God knew I needed you.
Happy Fall, ya'll!
love,
clan mac mama
