This kid turned four almost a week ago.
She kills me. At this moment, she is currently not taking a nap like she is supposed to be doing. Rather, she's building a tent and trying to move her bed so she can fit in it or under it or something like that.
I'm letting it slide.
Another crash and another "whoops" and maybe I should rethink the whole independence, etc.
Meh, the house is quiet sans those crashes and she is happy. Every few minutes she runs up front to ask if she can get more blankets. I politely say no. She turns and runs down the hall, heading directly for the closet where the closets are.
Now she is hungry and wanting to take Cheez-Its to her room. I draw the line.
Fuzzy isn't sleeping much these days, either. Per Husband, he chirps from about 4am-6am. It doesn't bother me and I sleep right through it. Apparently, Husband doesn't. #MOTY
Bennie is snacking on M&Ms and a cookie at the table and her curls are out of control on this overcast and drizzly day. Spirals that would make Shirley Temple jealous- and they are standing completely on end. Thank you for my MIL, a barber by trade- she is the only person in the whole world who knows how to cut curly hair. All kids get piled in the bathtub for haircuts when we head to SmallTown. She can trim hair, pull a kid out from under suds, and find plastic bath toys for four kids at a time.
It's quite impressive.
Christmas came and went again this year. The kids all said that this was the best Christmas ever. Husband and I agree. Bennie is currently looking for Gurgle, our Elf on the Shelf. My response of "He's at the North Pole" was not sufficient for that brain underneath those curls. She found the Gurgle Grabbers (laypeople might know these as tongs)
The past two nights, the girls have slept in a tent that Santa brought down the chimney. They have little lanterns, sleeping bags, and two kid-size Coleman chairs. Since it's too cold outside right now-- high today is a typical 72-- we have this make-shift campsite set up in the playroom. After dinner, they retire to the site where they watch TV, use modern bathroom facilities, and otherwise camp. Because camping = sleeping in a tent until they get uncomfortable and climb up to the blow up mattress outside said tent.
I was a Boy Scout and I know all about camping in the woods. This former Camper does not fault them one bit for finding the blow up mattress. I know all about starting a fire without matches, but that's another story.
Fuzzy is jumping up and down in his crib and Bennie wants to know if she can Doritos AND Pirate Booty to go with her M&Ms and Cookie. Pass that kid a high-test Coca-Cola and she'll be in business.
Time to rescue that almost 2 year old from the nap he is also not taking.