Natalie's First Day

Natalie was more than ready for her first day of preschool of the year yesterday. The timid girl that was a little uncertain last year was nowhere to be found. It helps that she's back at the same school again (I'm not kidding myself into thinking there won't be a few tears--hers and mine--next year on the first day of Kindergarten) with all the same friends. This year Natalie is a Junior Achiever instead of a Little Leaper, and she's looking forward to learning to read so that she can outdo her big brother. My girl's growing up!

And just for the record... those flowered headbands are ALWAYS her idea. She might be tough, but she's still a princess.

Compare and Contrast

Kyle's first day of First Grade was on Tuesday, and we took all the requisite 'first day of school' pictures. I just have to share these two side-by-side. The photo on the left is from last year, and the one on the right is from Tuesday.



He's a little bit longer and leaner, but he's definitely still the same boy. Those are probably the exact same pants, so this is proof that he did get slightly taller over the past year. The cardigan is a newer, bigger one. But my baby is losing his baby look, isn't he?

Sigh.

School's (Almost) Out!

The last week of June has finally arrived, and in two days Kyle will be a Kindergartener no more. This week has been full of dress-down days, hot dogs, and bouncy castles. It has also been completely void of homework.

As far as we know we'll still be in St. John's for the next school year, so Kyle will continue to spend his time with all of these nutters:

Bring on First Grade!

Superstar!

I should have guessed what we were in for when I woke up at 6:30 on Friday morning, walked into Natalie's room, and found her on the floor, lying on her belly, pushing up with her arms.

"Um, Sweetie... are you doing push-ups?" I asked, slightly puzzled.

"Yes! I'm getting ready for my show! It's going to be great!" she replied, as she bounced up onto her feet and clapped her little hands, an enormous grin on her face.

It was her last day of preschool and the day of the big end-of-year concert. Calling it a concert was a bit of a stretch, but I wasn't going to argue with a four-year-old. It was more like four songs and two nursery rhymes, but whatever. Natalie was excited, and thanks to her push-ups she was ready to perform!

Shaun and I couldn't wait to see our timid little girl stand up with her classmates and mumble a few cute little songs.

We were totally unprepared, however, for the little show-stealer Natalie turned out to be. She sang--loudly and in tune. She danced--with rhythm and hip action. She knew all the words, and projected her little voice across the roomful of amused parents. I've never heard sounds that loud come out of my child in public before. At home, yes. (I believe I've mentioned the iron fist with which Natalie rules her brothers.) But I had no idea she was a little actress in the making. She carried the show! And all Shaun and I could do was stare in amazement, occasionally turning to each other in bewilderment (Where on Earth did this come from? Where did she get the performance gene? Not from either of us!) before we had to turn back to the front of the room and gape at our four-year-old diva.

Natalie was also chosen to play the part of the spider in both 'Little Miss Muffett' and 'The Itsy Bitsy Spider', and I don't think I've seen many things cuter in my life.

I can't believe the school year is over, and I can't believe how Natalie has grown from the little girl with tears in her eyes on the first day to the superstar that I witnessed two days ago. I'm so proud of her! And, frankly, I'm awed that Shaun and I could make such a creature. Go figure.

Party Time!

We celebrated Natalie's fourth birthday with a party last weekend. On Sunday she invited friends from her preschool class and from our playgroup over to The Little Gym where they all ran crazy and played for an hour and a half. There were balls, bars, beams, and a parachute.

There was pizza. (I highly recommend The Little Gym for birthday parties if you're as lazy as I am, and the idea of twelve two-through-five-year-olds running around your house gives you hives. It's much more fun having a party when you know the cake, pizza, and lemonade all over the floor will be cleaned up by someone else.)

There was Barbie ballerina cake. This was chosen because Natalie loves Barbie, and she loves ballerinas, and she also loves as much pink and purple as possible on a cake.

At home there were presents and payback. Let's just say that Natalie wasn't nearly as nice about the help she was getting from Brandon as he was when she was being so helpful with his gifts a week earlier.

And what's that? Oh, that's just Natalie's brand new Nintendo DS. You know, the one her older brother convinced her she needed for her birthday.

And now I am done with the birthday parties until December!

Four Going on Fourteen

Every year my boys get a year older, and every year I'm amazed. Kyle's birthdays sneak up on me and make me feel old. Brandon's birthdays seem to come quickly, and they make me nostalgic.

Natalie's birthdays are an entirely different experience for me. We spend the entire four months between Kyle's birthday in December and Natalie's birthday in April counting down the days and discussing presents. By the time April 19th rolls around each year we've all been heavily prepared, and everyone is ready for it.

This year was no different. On Monday Natalie turned four, and I looked at her and said, "Happy Birthday, Baby! I can't believe you're four!" What she hears is, "Wow, you're such a big girl!" What I'm really saying is, "I can't believe you're only four."

Natalie is wise beyond her years, always one step of her brothers, and she doesn't miss a thing. She listens to and absorbs everything the adults around her say, files it away in her little head, and never lets on that she's listening. In public she's reserved, shy, quiet, and afraid to put herself in unfamiliar situations. At home she loves her brothers fiercely, but she rules them like a tyrant, and they willingly do her bidding from the time they wake up in the morning until they go to bed at night. What they don't do willingly she tricks them into doing.

She is definitely mine. My mother will agree, as will my brother and sister.

My little girl turned four on Monday, and I wasn't at all surprised by it. Of course she's four. Hasn't she been four forever?

Birthday Boy

For the first time in over five years I no longer have a child under the age of two in the house. Brandon's second birthday was yesterday, and I'm pretty sure that means I can't call him a baby any longer. My baby, yes. A baby, no. Not that he's acted much like a baby over the last year. This child can hold his own with a silly, impulsive five-year-old and a bossy, wily almost-four-year-old any day.

I'm the first one to admit that I'm lazy, so Brandon's second birthday was exactly like all the other second birthdays we've celebrated around here--a few presents and cake, attended by immediate family. I don't do parties for two-year-olds. As far as a two-year-old is concerned it is a party if they see cake, presents, and singing. Some days they think it's a party if they just see a dog in the backyard next door. Or if you tell them they're having pizza for lunch. Or if Dora comes on the television. You get my drift.

Here's the cake I made:

Brandon picked out the little sugar candies shaped like Lightning McQueen and Tow Mater. The red sugar sprinkles were all me.

Brandon wailed as we sang to him.

I'm not totally sure why that was since he perked right up after the singing stopped (the singing really couldn't have been that bad), and he blew out his candles like a pro.

He had an excellent time opening presents despite a large amount of help from his big sister.

And then we spent the rest of the day watching Brandon play with all of his new toys and try to keep them away from the vultures known by the names of Kyle, Natalie, and Ethan (Kyle's friend).

I really can't believe my littlest man is two. Life is easier for me now than it's ever been in my entire tenure as a mother. Now all we need to do is attempt some potty-training, and I should be home free. Hah.

A Good Time Was Had By All

Well, the grandparents returned home today, and I don't think 10 days have ever passed more quickly! There were horsey rides, bicycle rides, snow, sun, cupcakes, Easter eggs, and more. We all had a blast.

Week one of Kyle's Spring break flew by, and I now get to spend the next week detoxing the kids. No more dessert every night, no more endless board games and Barbie movies, no more all-day pajama-wearing... starting tomorrow. I guess I'll be detoxing myself, as well, since I'll have to stop ignoring the laundry, I'll have to start playing with my own kids again, and there will be no more trips to New York with Shaun.

Oh well. It was fun while it lasted!

Blizzard Update | Day 2

Sometime between yesterday when I shoveled inches of light, powdery, fluffy snow and this morning when Shaun got his turn to shovel the falling snow turned very heavy, dense, and wet. While this was unfortunate for poor Shaun it made for excellent snowmen! It still has not stopped snowing, and I'd have to guess the snowfall total to be about 20 inches or so.

Right after lunch we bundled up our little snowbabies and headed out into the backyard for some sledding and giant snowman-making. I'm happy to report that the endeavor wore them out, and two of the three are currently sleeping. Shaun is soon to follow suit. It is his turn for a nap after all.

Merry Christmas!

The gift of love. The gift of peace. The gift of happiness. May all these be yours at Christmas and throughout the new year.

Much love from the Z family! Merry Christmas!

The Seals Came Up With Shiny Boots

Last night was the Christmas concert at Kyle's school, and now that it's over I can admit to how worried I was. Kyle was one of four Kindergarteners chosen at random to have a speaking part in the holiday show called Holiday Zoobilee. He had his part down cold, but he's very prone to distraction, and I'd been anxious for him for the last several days.

I kept having visions of last year's 'end-of-school-year' performance where Kyle knew his lines but when the time came for him to deliver them he was staring, horrified, at the little boy off to one side suffering from a bloody nose. His teachers had to call his name several times before he heard them, and, sure, he said his lines, but the rhythm of the whole poem was thrown off.

Part of me wanted Kyle to do well last night just because I'd look like the parent that didn't practice his lines with him if he screwed them up. But I mostly wanted him to do well because he wanted to do well. Over the last few days he'd made a few comments like, "I wish Wednesday was done already!" and "I'm a little bit nervous about the Christmas concert!" I was terrified that my outgoing wild child had suddenly become too self-conscious and was going to freeze onstage.

There were a few dicey moments when I feared the whole thing was going to go up in flames. Early on during a song Kyle knocked his zebra ears off (I don't know why he was dressed like a zebra, but he was), but he looked down at them and just kept right on singing. Kyle was lined up in the very front row of the chorus right next to the biggest baby in the Kindergarten class, and this child spent the entire performance flailing his arms, turning around backwards, and making an overall nuisance of himself. Visions of the bloody nose incident haunted me, but Kyle just ignored him and kept right on singing. Kyle even lost a zebra stripe at one point, but he just bent over, picked it up, stuck it back on his shirt, and after a quick check to make sure the rest of his stripes were going to stay put he went right back to singing again.

It turns out that my anxiety was misplaced. Kyle walked right up to the front of the stage when it was his turn, and belted out his lines:

The seals came up with shiny boots that came out just your size. And the zebras have a stripey belt, that you will truly prize.

Don't ask me what in the heck that's supposed to mean or what zoo animals have to do with Christmas. But I was so anxious waiting for Kyle's turn to speak that I couldn't even pay attention to the show, and I still can't tell you what the zoo or seals with boots have to do with anything. I don't even care. My baby said his lines perfectly, and he was so proud of himself afterwards.

Today I'm just glad the whole thing is over. The only thing I can imagine being worse is the first time Natalie has to go onstage for something. If I thought last night was hard I'm going to give myself a stroke before Natalie's dance recital in May--or at least some very serious heartburn. I need to not think about that yet. Where are my antacids?

Five years old!

I am now the mother of a five-year-old boy.

Yesterday was Kyle's birthday, and last night when he went to bed he declared that he didn't need a nightlight any more because he's five. He was actually insulted when I turned it on--as if he hadn't used the darn thing every single night of the last five years. That fire truck nightlight was a baby shower gift that I used even in my own bedroom when Kyle was a newborn and we shared a room at my parents' house. I couldn't stand not being able to see him when he was sleeping--whether he was sleeping in his crib, in his swing, or, most frequently, on my chest. I've spent the last several years wondering when Kyle was going to outgrow needing a nightlight, and then he springs this little surprise on me at bedtime, and I had to pretend to be excited while I hugged him and tried not to squeeze his little body into submitting to my wish that he stop growing up so quickly.

Kyle couldn't be more excited to finally be five. He's always enjoyed his birthday, but this year he's been especially anxious because he's the youngest child in his Kindergarten class, and until yesterday he'd been the only four-year-old (his emphasis) in his class for the previous eleven days. It was killing him. I don't have the heart to tell him that in just a few weeks everyone in his class will start turning six. He'll find out soon enough.

Anyway, here are a few pictures of the weekend's festivities. Check them out while I go try to figure out where the last five years went.

Yeah! Bakugan!

Kyle with his buddies, Neal and Ethan

The birthday party at the Geo Centre

Laundry Police

Brandon not only looks like Shaun, but he also appears to have inherited Shaun's temperament. They're both easy-going, sweet and rarely angry. They both have a very quiet sense of humor, and it's hard to make them laugh. And they have both been gifted with a look that's lets you know just what they think of you when you do something stupid.

I get to spend all day, every day with a little carbon copy of my husband, and I usually find this endlessly entertaining, but I was never more annoyed by how much Brandon reminds me of Shaun than I was one day last week.

I was sitting at my computer, minding my own business and everyone else's on Facebook, and Brandon walked up to me with his arms full of clothing. He shoved them into my arms, yelled, "Clothes!" and ran back into the laundry folding/piling room (known as the 'formal dining room' to the rest of the world) to grab another armful of clean laundry. He proceeded to shove those little shirts and pants at me, too, then grab my hand and drag me over to the laundry basket and point to it yelling, "Clothes!" again.

Who does he think he is? The laundry police? Is my 18-month-old trying to tell me something, or did Shaun put him up to this? Shaun doesn't actually drag me to the laundry basket and yell at me, but the look Brandon gave me had Shaun written all over it. I could just see Shaun's innocent look and his passive, "I see you didn't get a chance to fold the laundry..."

I started to get a little defensive, but then I realized I could totally use this to my advantage. I'm going to teach Brandon how to fold the laundry. And then I'm going to teach Kyle to vacuum while Natalie does the dishes. Easy street, here I come.

Halloween Flashback

Halloween doesn't have the same draw for people in rural areas as it does for those who live in towns and cities. It's really a bit of a hassle to get all dressed up in your Halloween costumes to then climb into the backseat of mom's car, squirm around trying to buckle up around your Minnie Mouse or Dorothy dress and then attempt to stash whatever headgear, candy bags, and other accessories you'll need in the space under your feet. Trick-or-treating in the country isn't about running around with your friends, ringing doorbells, yelling and then dashing on to the next house. In the country, trick-or-treating is about being squashed into the car with your little brother while you drive from one end of the county to the other making occasional stops at the homes of various grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends of your parents. This was the Halloween of my childhood. It's still fun, and you still get a ton of candy, but it's not like the Halloween most kids experience.

I can only imagine, now that I am a mother myself, how annoying the entire ordeal must have been for my mother. Being the person responsible for loading these costumed children into the car, listening to the bickering between houses, trying to keep the make-up off the upholstery, and then having to make small-talk at every single house because you're related to everyone must have been less than exciting. Thanks, Mom, for putting up with all of that. You're much more tolerant than I am.

I chose to ignore Halloween until Kyle was almost three years old. We happened to be living with my parents during both Kyle and Natalie's first Halloweens, and there was no way I was dressing them up and loading them into the car to drive them around and show them off. Okay, to give myself a little credit, now that my parents live in Virginia there's really no one to show the kids off to anyway, but I bet I would have ignored Halloween anyway. I started ignoring Halloween around the age of 12, and I planned to keep ignoring it as long as possible.

Then Kyle started going to preschool. It is imposssible to ignore Halloween once your kids start going to some form of school. There are parties. There are parades of small children in very cute costumes. There are goody bags. Teachers and other little kids explain the concept of going door-to-door and collecting candy to your own children, and guess what? They think it sounds fun!

Then the truly unthinkable happened. It started to sound fun to me, too. It helped that we had moved back to Houston, the land of Master Planned Communities, and I wasn't going to be required to load anyone in costume into my SUV, but the kicker was my realization that for a few short years I was going to be able to dress my kids up however I wanted. The result: the pair of pirates you see below, circa October 2007.

The cutest pirates ever

That all ended this year. Kyle's almost five, and when you're almost five it's mandatory that you choose to be something other than what your mom wants you to be for Halloween. (It's in the Handbook, along with trying to talk to your mom while she's on the phone, trying to wear your slippers to school, finding all underwear jokes hilarious, and various other annoying habits.) Natalie dressed up as Jessie from Toy Story, Brandon was Woody, and Kyle agreed to be Buzz Lightyear until he changed his mind and decided to be a Power Ranger instead.

Power Ranger (Kyle), Monkey (Ethan), Jessie (Natalie), Cheetah (Elle), Woody (Brandon)

Believe it or not, Shaun and I were really okay with it. The advantage to Kyle refusing to go along with the family theme was that I was spared dressing up like Bo Peep. I was disappointed, however, that Shaun was also then spared from having to dress up like Mr. Potato Head. Sigh. That would've been awesome.

There's always next year. I'm thinking Peter Pan, maybe?

Natalie Goes to Preschool

I've put off blogging about Natalie's first day of preschool because (a) let's be honest, I'm lazy, and (b) it really didn't end up being that big of a deal. Compared to my expectations, the entire event was a breeze. I expected tears, but there were none. I expected to argue with my little princess over her outfit, hairstyle, and shoes for the day--but it didn't happen. I even anticipated a little showdown over my choice of Natalie's morning snack, but even that never materialized.

I know how independent Natalie can be at home. She won't let me help her with her shoes, her clothing, or her toothbrushing. She wants to do her carseat up by herself. She tucks herself into bed without any help--though a story and kisses are still required once she gets all covered up.

However, my girl has always been intimidated by new people and new places, and she's never been anywhere without at least one of her brothers to keep her company. At playgroups she's always been one to wrap herself around one of my legs and hide her face whenever someone new speaks to her. If we're in a store and someone approaches to tell her how gorgeous her curly hair is she hides her face and won't speak to them.

Last Monday, Natalie waltzed into preschool, hung up her jacket, changed her shoes, took her new teacher's hand, and walked right off down the hallway, pausing only to smile over her shoulder and give me a little wave.

I was amazed, relieved, proud, and just a little bit sad. The timid baby girl is gone, and an independent, serious little girl lives here now. I guess, in reality, it was a huge deal.

I'm not going to lie, though. The sadness was only momentary. It was a relief to know that Natalie was going to make the whole preschool thing easier for me by not crying. She's also made it easier than Kyle ever did because she's much more mature than he is, and I'll never have to worry about her being the crazy little class clown. It might be selfish, but it has also done wonders for my sanity to only have one toddler around for a few hours each week.

Now that Brandon and I have four mornings of alone time under our belt and Natalie has four mornings of preschool under her belt I think we're all satisfied that this is a very good thing for all of us. Brandon doesn't know what to do with all the attention. Natalie thinks it's great to have something that's all hers. And I have a feeling my shopping time has been greatly enhanced--you'd be amazed at how easy it is getting one kid in and out of carseats, strollers, and shopping carts!

My Little Ballerina

I know. C-U-T-E. And she's all mine.

Today was the first day of ballet class, and Natalie smiled and pranced her way around the ballet studio like the little princess she believes herself to be. I expected her to be timid and shy, and she was neither. It was adorable. Little girls are so much fun!

Let's cross our fingers and hope the first day of preschool on Monday goes just as smoothly.

The Second Day

Yesterday Kyle got to wear his 'everyday' uniform, as opposed to the first day's 'full dress' uniform. Pretty snazzy sweater vest, wouldn't you say? Variations of the everyday uniform will include long-sleeved white shirts instead of short-sleeved white shirts or an absence of the sweater vest altogether. Stay tuned for pictures of Friday's gym uniform.

I'm happy to report that the second day of Kindergarten seems to have gone as smoothly as the first. So far, so good. A friend and I have worked out our carpooling schedule, and full lunch service starts up tomorrow--that means no more packing lunch and half as many trips to the school! Yeah! Note to self: It's amazing how much time I spend trying to figure out how to get myself out of as much work as possible. I might want to stop blogging about that and focus more on how adorable the kids are. Maybe? Nah.

I think we've made a decent start on our back-to-school routine. Next week Natalie will go to orientation at her preschool, and then the following week she'll start heading off to preschool three mornings a week. That'll leave Brandon and I all alone to do whatever we want. I'm not sure either of us will know what to do with ourselves, but I'm looking forward to it. I see several trips to The Little Gym in my future.

The First Day

Check out the cutie in the uniform! I am officially the mother of a Kindergartener. It seems unreal. I'd say that I'm not old enough to be the mother of a Kindergartener, but we all know that I'm thirty now, so I guess I am old enough.

Whenever a milestone of any sort rears up in front of us I'm always glad that Kyle is my firstborn. He makes it easy to face new situations because he's fearless when it comes to meeting new people, and he'll go anywhere without me. This is a concern when I imagine horrible scenarios involving creepy men in beat-up cars driving by offering candy out of the window. However, this fearlessness is a relief at birthday parties, playdates and on the first day of school.

Kyle was the only two-year-old not crying at his first day of preschool two years ago. He even looked confused about why everyone else was crying when there were all these new toys to play with and it looked like these teachers were even into Play-Doh (something Mommy was not into).

This morning Natalie, Brandon, and I walked Kyle to his new classroom and watched as he walked right into the closet, hung up his backpack, and then walked away from us to go play. I even had to call his name two or three times to get his attention to tell him we were leaving. He looked over at me, smiled, waved, and blew me a kiss.

*Sigh.*

My baby's growing up.

At least I know to be entirely grateful for the kiss. In another year or two he'll be way too grown up to blow his mom a kiss on the first day of school.

A Little Ocean City Love

Most people are totally confused when I tell them we vacation in New Jersey. I can actually see their eyes glaze over as they picture scenes from the Sopranos and the New Jersey Turnpike. Ocean City is actually an awesome shore town with a great beaches, a boardwalk filled with pizza places, mini-golf courses and shops, a trolley that runs from one end of the city to the other, and a rare family-friendly atmosphere.

My grandmother used to take my brother and I to Ocean City for a week every summer as kids--and eventually my sister, too--and the city has changed very little in all the time I've known it. Ocean City is even where I introduced Shaun to some of my family for the first time--he and our friend, Scott, drove down to visit me when I was there with Mom-mom the summer after our Freshman year at RPI.

We just finished spending two weeks in Ocean City, and Shaun and I probably enjoyed our most relaxing vacation since having kids. Relaxation is all relative when vacationing with three kids, obviously, so rest assured we still struggled with all the usual drama--packing, passports, hours on airplanes, rental cars, room sharing, nap shortages, and endless trips to the bathroom--and a little extra drama in the form of two threatened hurricanes, a canceled return flight, and an overnight experience at the Holiday Inn Newark Airport. But my mom and dad, my sister, and my brother and his wife stayed with us the first week we were at the shore, and I swear it was total bliss having so many adults around to watch and play with the kids. Shaun's mom, grandma and Grandpa Jess also came down the second week, and they, too, made it easy for Shaun and I to get a little peace once in a while. I didn't cook dinner for the group even once thanks to the best mom in the world, and I only had to go to the grocery store once thanks to a brother who wakes up at the crack of dawn! It was awesome.

I am almost five years into this parenting gig, and I have finally determined the secret to having a good vacation--travel with at least two adults per child! Remember this.

Here are a few cute pics. Check out the rest of them on our Shutterfly site. Enjoy!

Mom-mom and B

Kyle loves his map

I can do it myself, Uncle Brian

Aunt Katie and the kids

Brian and Allie

I can do everything myself

Babci and B

Sit in the hole!

Get to work, Grandma

Mom-mom and Pop-pop and their (my) babies