My little girl is five!

Turning four wasn't hard for me. Four is still a little girl, a preschooler. But five has hit me hard. Five years since I became a mother! And five year olds are so different. My daughter has recently started dressing me (I admit I need help sometimes). And we have real conversations. She can express herself and share her feelings so much better than she could a year ago. I read her chapter books now, and she sits and listens for as long as I am willing to read. She has become very maternal as well. She helps keep her little brother in line (although the two of them are partners in crime, too) and has been a help to me since I broke my wrist (more on that accident in a future post). She still has her naughty moments, but all in all I am very proud of the girl she has become. I can't wait to see what changes the next year will bring.

Budding Fashionista

My four year old has been dressing herself for almost a year now, and I am always amazed at the unique outfits the puts together. It's so much fun seeing her emerge from her room each morning!

Wishful Thinking

We don't get much snow here- usually just one small storm each winter.

When snow was in the forecast a few days ago, my daughter came home from preschool with a marshmallow snowman.

Her teacher had told the class that making these sweets would help the snow arrive.

It worked, sort of. We got a tiny dusting that evening. Not enough to play in, but the snowman sure was a great motivator to get my daughter to eat her supper that night!

So why is she shirtless and orange-faced? It was spaghetti night, and we have a shirtless rule for the kids when we eat tomato sauce- even in winter!

Potty Training

My three year old son is potty training right now. We've been watching a lot of Elmo's Potty Time, because Elmo seems to get through to him much more effectively than I do. In the midst of our second daily viewing, I decided to go put a load of laundry into the dryer.

I got up and told him I'd be back in a minute.

While I was in the laundry room, he had the urge to use his little potty (we tote it around with us). Since I wasn't there to empty it, he decided to do it himself. He picked it up and walked into the kitchen, sloshing pee pee as he went.

I heard him coming and peeked around the corner from where I was in the laundry room. As I was heading toward him, he picked up speed, stepped on the garbage can pedal, and dumped the remainder of his pee pee (which wasn't much) into the garbage!

Now where did he get that idea?