Oliver is now SIX

A golden birthday. Six on the 6th.

Oliver is so smart, quick, and endlessly creative. He is sleepy and hungry a lot of the time.

Oliver is fierce. He is strong-willed. I'm grateful he is, except when we butt heads because of it. But most of the time I'm glad he has a strong sense of self.

We love our Oliver. I wouldn't change him in any way. I'm grateful he is ours. I'm in awe of him. He is funny and challenging. Just the perfect Oliver.
Now pictures of his day:

Oliver, who is now FIVE

Oliver, my funny boy had his birthday today. So, as we are wont to do, we celebrated a bit yesterday with a trip to the bowling alley. It was ALLLLL he wanted to do.



We have learned that here in New Hampshire (and perhaps all of New England), traditional bowling with large balls of varying weight, and pins that are fatter on bottom than on top (you know, normal bowling) simply DOES NOT EXIST.



Instead, everywhere has "candlestick bowling". There are ten skinny, uniform-shaped pins, and little balls, that all weigh about 5 pounds. That is your only option. Then everyone gets THREE tries per frame. It was a blast and super weird from what we were used to. But the smaller balls were perfect for the kids.





Even Miriam loved it and had a hard time when it wasn't her turn.



We did the traditional birthday celebrating today. A few presents.





It is hard when it's not your birthday.



Throughout the day, Oliver kept saying "thank you" for his birthday gifts. That was super cute.



Oliver wanted to pancakes for dinner, so Derek whipped them up easy peasy.


Then today, he wanted a bowling cake. (WHY bowling? I excepted "chocolate" or "strawberry" and he says "BOWLING". It's Oliver. I should have known.)





Happy Birthday to Oliver.

At five years old he:
is skinny. He is ALWAYS hungry.
is smart and excited to learn.
loves to "do school" and play outside.
loves playing dress-up.
loves "dip" of all kinds.
screeches like a banshee when his brothers cross him.
learning to be helpful.

We are grateful for him and that he is in our family!

You Say It's Your Birthday!

My sweet sweet boy is now 4. Yay Oliver.

He chose to go to the movies for his "birthday activity." After of course, cinnamon rolls for breakfast.

In reality, Oliver wanted cinnamon rolls for DINNER, but with some gentle prodding, he was convinced to have them for breakfast.



We went and saw the Croods. It was a cute movie, and lots of fun for everyone. The theater is also a restaurant, so we ate lunch during the movie. VERY cool.


Cake and ice cream is a given. Chocolate with BLUE frosting. WEIRD KID.


NEXT, presents. Oh he was beyond excited for presents and thrilled with Finn, his new super doll and a new cloak to traipse through the woods in. Iron Man also made an appearance.



A good birthday.

At four years old, my Oliver is:

Highly opinionated. I'm trying desperately to see the GOOD in that.
A sweet brother.
loves tacos.
loves cinnamon rolls (see above!)
thoroughly loves playing outside.
likes to do "school.
naps most days.
can be incredibly INSANELY naughty.
still is my bug.



Love you darling son of mine. LOVE YOU.

Growing Pains?

It's rough, a sweet tiny daughter who doesn't have clue that night time is for sleeping.

Last night, instead of sleeping, we watched Friends on DVD. (Season 6, disc 1, in case you were wondering. "I'm SO DRUNK!").

Anyway, suffice it to say I'm very very tired.

The joys outweigh the exhaustion. The sweet tiny baby moments that do not last nearly long enough. They grow and change before your very eyes, these tiny people!

The biggest joy (and frustration, if I'm being 100% honest) is how hard these boys love Miss Miri.

They love her. A lot. Ezra throws absolute tantrums if I carry Miriam into his line of sight and do not let him hold her. He sits on the couch, bangs on his thighs and screams "BABY!"repeatedly until I hand her over. There's no point in ignoring him. It's not worth the fight.

And Henry who says 123 times a day, "I LOVE OUR BABY GIRL!" And he does.

Spencer has taken to calling her "Meers" which... I don't entirely understand, but he says with with SUCH affection, I really can't get too grumpy.

And Oliver. Oh Oliver. He just wants to touch her.Touching her would be fine, except he has a snotty nose and I desperately want to keep Miriam from getting a cold.

I beg and beg him to please NOT touch her. And he really can't help himself.

But today, I was battling the sleepy, and Miriam had passed out after nursing, so I'd laid her in the recliner, and I was just taking a moment to sit on the couch and breathe.

Oliver, assuring me he would not touch, climbed up next to her and "read" her three different books, before he kissed her (sigh) and went off to play.



It was completely adorable.

We're definitely ironing out some wrinkles as a family of seven. The number of melt downs a child has 8in a day seems to be directly proportional to how old they are. (Henry: 1-2, Spencer:3-4, Oliver: 5-10, Ezra: cried all morning). But the moments like this make it all okay.

We're getting there.

The ER and I are BFFs.

Ezra appears to be prone to stomach bugs. Henry started this one. HE threw up once and whined the rest of the day.

Ezra got it the next day and threw up more times than I could count.

This is bad enough. Then you pair that with a boy who at 19 months weighed in at less than the 5th percentile at a whopping 21.4 lbs, and you get trouble.



TOOOOO skinny + nothings staying down makes for a nervous mama, squirting 1cc of water down your throat every five minutes all night long.

Then you add in a delightful Utah holiday called Pioneer Day in the which everyone uses up their leftover fireworks until midnight, thus awakening your 3 year old Oliver putting him into terrified hysterics and you got yourself a party.



NOT PICTURED: The dog cowering on my bedroom floor as well, terrified that WWIII had begun right outside our house. STUPID FIREWORKS.

Super fun, right?

I thought Ezra was improving, he managed to hold down small sips of water and tiny bites of rice for an hour, but then, no, everything that went in came right back out.

So, at 2:30 this morning, I said, "That's it. You throw up one more time and we're going to the doctor."

He answered by horfing the tiny bit of water he'd had onto my lap.

And so, to the ER went. I live there, apparently.

I was worried IV fluids were in his future, but no, ZOFRAN THE MIRACLE DRUG did the trick. Half a pill, dissolved in his cheek and he was eating jello and popcicles like a pro.

Mama is grateful. Today, we're hydrating with Otter Pops.

I am super tired of stomach bugs.

More of the Same

Well, I'd excite you with all the fascinating things we're into these days but frankly, we're doing the same stuff as yesterday...school, housework, playing outside and bikes. 

See?  Excuse the blue-ness, our house is blue, and it was evening. BLUE. 

Shirts, shoes, and pants are completely optional for post-dinner bike riding. Helmets are not.

Oliver is in need of a bigger bike. He has outgrown the trike. Sad. 

Spencer's personal style is ever-evolving. He couldn't find his helmet, so I made a very rare exception since we weren't leaving the driveway. But he did assure me that his head was protected by the hat. 

Thank goodness. 

Ah bike weather. We're just getting started. 

Happy Happy Birthday

My big smart three year old is tucked up in his bed, dreaming the dreams of a birthday boy who declared during his bath "I like my birthday, Mommy!"

(By the way, he picked out his own outfit today! He loves that silly sweater vest.)




Oh my Oliver boy. I'm so glad.




Gotta love the row of uncles singing "Happy Birthday".



That cake is lemon, at Oliver's insistence. It HAD to be lemon. It was yummy.



He got A LOT of fun stuff. Golf clubs, baseball stuff. Joy of a three year old!

We ran and played all the day long. We did manage to squeeze in a nap even. It was a day of days.





We went to an indoor amusement park. Exhausting. And goodness, the roller coaster... Henry *might* have vomited.

He got a "guitar" and he loves it. His brothers loves it. I love it. It's actually a ukulele. And his brothers are terribly jealous.



"Don't take a picture of me, Mommy!"

An Ultimate Mom-Blog Post

Scenes from Potty Training:

From February 2012

From February 2012

From February 2012

From February 2012

There is only ONE way for me to potty train my children: In one day.

I know there are LOTS of methods, and that's exactly as it should be. Because there are lots of different kids in the world. 

But in my life? I can't handle weeks and weeks of on again off again. 

Nope. 

It's all or nothing. 

And as of today, I'm three for three in the "all" category. 

Oliver did it. He did fabulously. He was SO proud. And the one real accident he had upset him so much that it broke my heart a little. 

And then we partied HARD with his uncle and aunt and grandparents. Pizza, cupcakes, presents. It's as good as birthday. 

From February 2012

My big, smart boy. 

When Good Naps Go Bad

Oliver, my very very best napper has started skipping naps.
Sigh.

I don't have children like some of my friends do, that nap every day until kindergarten. Sometime after their second birthday all my babies give up the great institution of napping.

I'd never ever give it up if I was them.

Anyway, so Oliver is over 2 and a half and therefore my oldest napper.

Yesterday, yes nap.

Today, no nap.

That picture there is Christmas Day. He missed his nap in his bed because he was Skyping his Grandparents and about 3:00 all the excitement had caught up with him.

So, I'll watch his naps dwindle and fail and be on life support for a couple of months until I declare "Turn off the machines" and that'll be the death of the great Ollie-nap.

(We never call him "Ollie" by the way, but that just flowed real nice like. No, you may not call him "Ollie." Sorry.)

It's a sad truth. Sad indeed.