Big Sister & Big Brother with Little Sister

I always shop the clearance sales. Last year I found these “Big Sister,” “Big Brother,” and “Little Sister” shirts at ToysRUs, and I couldn’t resist.

I’m always a little nervous, shopping a year ahead, hoping the clothes will actually fit when the next year rolls around. While Micah’s shirt is a bit big (he will be able to wear it again next summer), both of the girls’ shirts are getting snug.

This past weekend Mara was getting dressed, and she told me, “Mommy, we haven’t worn our matching pink shirts for awhile!”

Realizing that the shirts are sleeveless (and it is already October–unbelievable!), I said, “Why don’t we wear them today? It might be the last chance we have this year!”

So of course, there were pictures.

In the first picture, Micah is “shooting” Carissa. . . No, I didn’t teach him to do this.–Must be a boy thing.

The girls shared some special “sisters” moments. . . I think they will be sweet little friends very soon! Carissa adores Mara, and Mara loves her role as Big Sister.

Carissa’s expression in the picture of Mara dog-piling Micah is just priceless!

And randomly, the two girls looked up at Micah, standing there in his “I’m the Big Brother” shirt, at the very moment that he looked quite proud to be the big brother.

I love my three littles. 🙂

And looking at these pictures, I’m going to say Micah was right this weekend, when I was grooming our Westie, and Micah said he needed a haircut too!

[Click on the collage to view pictures in a separate window. Then click again to view larger.]

Unmentionables

Toddlers and preschoolers are learning all about their world.

And they have no discretion.

A dangerous combination, leading to so many potentially embarrassing–but definitely memorable–quotes.

Back in August, we were watching our friends (Chris & Melissa’s) two boys, when Melissa was pregnant with Caroline.

Their son Corban ended up wearing one of Mara’s pull-ups, when we ran out of diapers in his size. When they left, Mara was concerned that he was still wearing “her” pull-up. I told her it was fine for him to keep it. “But. . . pull-ups are underwear,” Mara remarked, looking puzzled. [We’ve tried to distinguish pull-ups from diapers–you know, you try NOT to wet your pull-ups, just like underwear. But I guess her little mind carried the “logic” too far.]

“If he borrowed my underwear, he would give it back,” she reasoned.

Daniel said we’ll have to remind them of these conversations when they’re about 16. 😉

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Then there are those dreaded “where-do-babies-come-from” type conversations that you hope your three-year-old will never insist that you answer fully.

Mara wanted to know where Micah came out my tummy.

Thank goodness, I had a c-section with him! I told her the doctor cut my tummy open with a knife and took Micah out.

And thank goodness, she was shocked enough by the pain I must have endured under that knife, that she didn’t think to ask where she came out.

But then she asked, “How does the baby get in mommy’s tummy?”

Daniel said something to the effect that God puts the baby in Mommy’s tummy.

She looked intrigued. A little skeptical, but willing to give us the benefit of the doubt, as she said very deliberately, “I want to be there next time to see God put the baby in mommy’s tummy!”

Peanut Butter Kisses

If right now you are expecting a recipe, you are going to be disappointed.

But for me, as a mom, it’s something just as sweet!

My two-year-old son has been a little stinker the past few days. But he sure knows when (and how) to turn on the charm!

His latest trick is to say, “Kiss Mommy,” in the sweetest voice, his eyes pursuing mine across the room. Of course I go over for a kiss, and he plants one on my cheek.

He gets me laughing every time. Then of course he laughs.

We shared lots of kisses.

And lots of laughs.

What could be better?

Oh, except that I forgot to mention: all this was going on while he was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich . . .

Want a kiss?!

I almost said ‘no.’

But then I realized that someday I’ll look back thinking,

‘What I would give for one of those peanut butter kisses!’

Inevitably, when I go grocery shopping. . .

. . . the kids are starving before the end of the trip.

Not just hungry, but starving. And desperate. (You may remember the whole Pork Chop Incident with Micah when he was not even a year and a half.)

Today was one such day. I brought the groceries in the house, put the kids in their seats at the table, and went to the kitchen to get out the food for lunch.

Mara called to me. “Mom! Carissa’s eating the apples!”

Sometimes I can literally feel that humongous question mark hovering over my head, like in the comics.

The apples are in a bag on the table, I was thinking. And Carissa is in her high chair.

I’m walking back into the dining room as I’m processing this information.

Mara was right:

i think she’s hungry