'Tis the season for ...

Winter weddings. Emery was a flower girl in our neighbor's daughter's wedding last week and she handled herself, and her jingle-bell pompadour oh-so-gracefully. For a four-year-old that is ... she had to stand up front with the bridesmaids for the whole ceremony and was only somewhat distracting as she tried to decide what exactly to do with her pompadour. Should it be a purse or maybe a baby in her arms? Maybe she should turn around and see what the bridesmaids are up to? There were nearly 400 guests at the wedding but that didn't seem to bother her - there is so much to love about the lack of self-conscience young children have. I know I will cry the day that changes.

Minor surgery. This was a simple procedure we knew Jamison would need soon after he was born. I just dreaded actually going through with it mainly because I knew he would have to fast before anesthesia and, well, what baby wants to do that? I have to say, though, that once we got through that part, and really it wasn't that bad since Matt took care of distracting Jamison from his favorite food source, it turned out to be one of the best days I've had in a while. I got to sit in a private waiting room alone and listen to podcasts alone, read alone and just BE alone. It was heavenly. No, wait, here's what was heavenly - finally getting to feed Jamison and then holding him in my arms while he slept and literally COOED for a very long time.

Christmas windows. We took the girls on a mystery ride the other night to see the Christmas windows downtown. Left Jamison cooing in his crib with a sitter. The displays this year didn't seem quite as magical or enticing to children as they have in the past but we still managed to get a few "wide-eyed wonder" photo opps.

Red overalls. This boy just keeps melting me. He is motoring around the house on all fours faster everyday. I think he set a record today because usually he just crawls around whatever room he is in. Today he finally realized he could find me when I left the room and I think he did several laps around the house as a result. So now we can bid farewell to the awfulness that is him screaming every time I leave the room? One can only hope ...

Haircuts and chocolate

This morning the girls were playing in their room with the door closed. This isn't unusual these days, but it doesn't mean they're just sitting on their beds reading books. (Although actually it did the other day when they were pretending to "nap.") Still, it was so nice to have a little peace and quiet that I tried not to wonder what was going on in there.

Anna Kimball eventually wandered into the living room and said something about how she didn't want a haircut. To which I said, "No, honey, that's ok. You don't need a haircut." Didn't think much of it until I went to check on Emery a few minutes later ...

She was in a corner, kneeled over with her head on the ground, silent. And then I saw the scissors. And the hair. And the deeply ashamed look on her face.

Funny thing is she sort of gave herself bangs and it doesn't look terrible. But I do believe she feels pretty terrible because every time I have mentioned it today the ashamed look comes back on her face and she quickly murmurs "Sorry."

Emery tends to be a model firstborn who plays by the rules and I kind of didn't think we'd go through this rite of passage. On the other hand, she has been begging me for a haircut the past few weeks. I guess she got tired of waiting. :) So we're getting a proper one tomorrow.

Tonight I told Matt that for much of the day I feel like crying and stuffing my face with chocolate. Just so he knows. And he does. It's that hard here in this house with three kids under 5, including one boy who shall remain nameless but is a terrible napper and frequently cannot tolerate it when I leave the room or when he is plopped on the kitchen floor over and over and over again. We are at that stage with him that we just have to keep handing him plastic to play with, any kind of plastic, anything that seems safe and interesting. And so the house is an utter disaster between all of his gizmos that don't really entertain him that much and all of the imagination explosions the girls concoct, which I love love love but dread dread dread supervising the clean up process for.

For the record, though, I did not cry today. And I kept the chocolate intake to one salted dark chocolate caramel and a small handful of chocolate chips. If that's not victory than what is?

Lately

"Water doesn't taste like anything. I'm tired of water," said Emery at dinner the other night.

What she isn't tired of is jumping. The girl is a crazy jumping bean these days. Every time I turn around she's jumping up and down as if I just announced we were going to live at the ice cream store. It took her a long long long time to learn how to jump, so I guess she is just making up for lost time.

Halloween came and went and naturally there were a fair amount of emotional displays from Anna Kimball regarding "more candies!" In fact, I even caught her licking away on a second lollipop after I told her she could only have one. Par for the course, I know, but seeing as how Emery is a first-born rule follower to the letter, I simply have no template for this kind of misdemeanor ... other than to throw that lollipop in the garbage and keep my eye on this one a little closer now. Oh and try not to start worrying about teenage rebellion yet.

I'm thankful the girls aren't really aware that many moms buy or make expensive and/or elaborate costumes for Halloween. That is just not my scene, at least right now. We were able to keep it simple with a borrowed Raggedy Ann suit for Anna Kimball and a few random items from the dress-up bin for Emery.

For Jamison, well, he got about four minutes in the spotlight. His average bedtime is 5:15 so he had already begun his night by the time the festivities started. I did manage to get him into our signature baby giraffe costume for a few minutes so that he could snag a little candy from our dear neighbor.

One big pumpkin ... one little boy!

At dinner tonight Emery prayed and the end of her prayer went something like this, "And I don't want to do anything. I just want to wash dishes and help Mommy in the kitchen when she is cooking. Amen."

Well, Emery, lots of times I don't want to do anything either. If you can manage to feed this family of five and keep the kitchen spic-and-span, have at it!

Sweet mornings

*I wrote this post a week ago. This morning was not quite so sweet. Jamison began his day at 4:55 and went down for his morning nap at 7:12. Fluke thing, right???

For some reason I feel compelled to document how our mornings go these days. Perhaps it's just to capture, in words, the sweetness of this season, a sweetness that is so easy to miss in the constant stream of meal making, nap-taking, nap-failing, diaper changing, potty-failing, car seat buckling, car seat unbuckling, tantruming, laughing, crying, whining, cheering, etc. etc. etc.

I've always been a morning person. I love a fresh start. Right now my mornings often begin earlier than I would prefer, but it's still my favorite time of the day with the children. These days, Jamison is first to rise and sadly, even as recently as the past few days, he has decided that 5:47 suits him just fine. The good news is that I can whisk him to my bed and nurse him back to a bit of a slumber giving my brain and body a chance to accept the reality that the day has begun. Before long, he fully awakes with the widest grin you've ever seen. All of his little toys are suddenly new again and he's perfectly content to lay around on the bed with me and fiddle with them while I attempt to have some semblance of "quiet time" with the Lord. 

Around 6:45 we hear Matt resurface from the basement, where he gets ready for the day. (His man cave is a whole other blog post :) ) He begins fixing his breakfast and I transition Jamison to the kitchen for his morning exercise in the Johnny Jumper. 

The coffee gets started, dishwasher unloading begins and chattering from the girls' bedroom usually can be heard. Praise. the. Lord. they are so obedient to their "OK to Wake!" clock and generally don't show their faces until 7:09 when the "clock turns" as they put it. 

Then at 7:10 on the dot they march out of their room, Emery always in the lead, and always bearing some kind of complaint about her finger, elbow, knee or some other very minor but very important ailment. Anna Kimball is all smiles, gleefully announcing that she has a "bouncy diaper." 

(Their animal lovies are under their shirts because they are babies of course)

So it's back to their bedroom we go and Jamison comes with us. There he will sit while Emery takes approximately 47 minutes to change into her panties. I have no idea why she is so leisurely about this. I am ever so glad he finds this entertaining. 

It's not long before Anna Kimball declares, "I hungry," and it's back to the kitchen to thaw whatever breakfast goodies are in the freezer, or fry up "an egg like Daddy's," or a smoothie to sneak in whatever nutrients I can get away with serving her ...

I could go on and on but you get the picture. It's all very ordinary, even mundane ... but there's something to savor in the routine, in the sweet morning spirits of these three children who really won't be so little and endearing in these small ways for very much longer. 

I could clean a bathroom

Or make these cookies. Both take about six minutes. So really I guess I could do both because I can definitely find 12 minutes in my schedule for these kinds of necessities.

These are not overly sweet so I think of them more as snacking cookies, which means I can eat them anytime I want and also feed them to the kids, guilt-free. Win-win!

Mash up two very ripe bananas and combine with 1.5 cups of quick oats, 1/3 cup of peanut butter and 1/2 cup of chocolate chips. Into a 350 degree oven for 12-15 minutes. (I suppose that's when I should be cleaning not one, but two bathrooms!)

Working on manners and bottles

This is how every single sentence Anna Kimball utters these days sounds:

"I wove your kitchen ... Mommy,"

"Daddy has a truck ... Mommy."

"Henny has a pool and I can go there ... Mommy."

"Emery has her sandals on ... Mommy!"

In case I forget who I am, to her and two others, she is faithfully there to remind me. Anna Kimball also is bordering on developing another habit that isn't quite as cute, one her sister developed at exactly the same age. The one where she interrupts me whenever I am talking to another adult and insists that I  "Stop talking Mommy!" so that she can get her very important question posed, statement uttered, or what-have-you.

So we are working on manners these days and I am seriously considering strapping my four-year-old in a high chair any minute now for I am beginning to lose track of how many times in meal she slips out of her seat, ambling on toward more interesting pursuits than finishing her half-eaten meal.

We/I also working on not getting too freaked out by Jamison's recent refusal of the bottle. Just a stage, right? He's so darn cute otherwise, but I tell you, I didn't even want to make eye contact with him yesterday after he refused two bottles in a day. I heard him laughing in his crib and all I could think was "the nerve! to laugh!" But then of course I went in there and saw him kicking his left leg like crazy and doing this new adorable thing where he sucks in his lower lip under his upper lip and somehow I forget the dreadfulness of his bottle boycott.

Yes, Anna Kimball is sitting in Emery's lap - Emery wants to mother everyone right now :).

Moments before he tried to fly out of the Bumbo. Definitely not a reliable holding spot but it'll do for about 10 seconds. 

This was taken on a walk to the neighborhood playground early the other morning. The girls were so excited and kept exclaiming "we're having so much FUN!" Guess we haven't been frequenting the playground recently ... I loved their enthusiasm over it all because really, playgrounds get old pretty fast ... but not on that magical morning. That also happened to be the day a wet bed woke them both up at 5am, Anna Kimball put herself down for nap at 11am and we sure needed a little magic to see us through a day that literally would not end.

Catching up

Seeing as how I haven't blogged in more than a month, playing catch up doesn't seem too realistic. Summer seems to be zooming away, but I think that's how it always feels right after the 4th. Then we hit the dog days of August and you realize how long it really has been since it's felt comfortable outside at 3pm.

We just spent a fantastic week in Michigan with Matt's family. When we returned, Jamison literally changed overnight into a four-month old who doesn't nap as frequently or as long, isn't content to just sit and stare at his sisters from his bouncy seat for his awake periods and generally is making me rethink how on earth I'm ever going to get anything done with three children at my heels day in and day out. My conclusion is this - for the next year or so, I probably won't get more than the bare essentials accomplished. I like this conclusion only because it's going to make me feel oh-so-good about myself when I do manage to find the time to organize a closet, make that trip to Goodwill, clean out the avalanche that is our freezer right now, etc.

Emery and Anna Kimball are now roommates and continue to adore their little brother. Often their affection is a bit too aggressive, but their intentions are good of course. Jamison continues to dazzle us with his grins and has taken to laughing in the past week or so. I'm not laughing about the fact that his sleeping through the night skills seem to be regressing, but I suppose that's par for the course.

Now for some pics:

There's that grin!

Grammie surprised and delighted Emery and Anna Kimball with matching bathing suits and super silly headbands for the 4th. I love that she insisted on them wearing the headbands one morning when Matt took them to the bakery in town ... and that despite his eye roll, he went along with the plan.

Jamison seems much happier on his tummy than his sisters - perhaps an indicator of stronger gross motor skills? We can only hope.

There's that grin again!

We went to the Detroit Zoo one day and were particularly mesmerized by the polar bears, though the primary reason for our visit was to show Emery a real live giraffe. As soon as she laid eyes on her spotted four-legged friend she announced that she was "all done." Kind of reminds me of how I made the same announcement after my first, and last, ballet recital. Like mother, like daughter.

Yes, I am frequently asked if the girls are twins. Love that they can share clothes!

Anna Kimball is definitely becoming a daddy's girl, which melts my heart a little. And is a little relieving. It's a lot of pressure being your children's be all end all. So glad Matt can join the party :)

The girls spent so much time playing in the sand that we didn't even make it onto the boats until the second to last day of our stay. That didn't stop Anna Kimball from jumping behind the wheel before you could say "Want to help Grandpa drive the boat?"

The best family photo we got all week - I actually do like how it's a little bit posed, a little bit candid. These are happy, tiring, trying, rich times. Here's to the rest of summer being gentle on us all and us on each other.

Lately

Just some snapshots of what we've been up to lately, starting with Emery's preschool end-of-year performance, during which she sang not a word, but did grin like the Cheshire Cat the entire time. In between songs she felt it very important that the girl standing next to her, and everyone else, know that "Anna Kimball's peeking at me!!"

We also had Jamison's two-month checkup and from the looks of Emery's face you would have thought she was attending his funeral. She dislikes going to the doctor that much. I recently had the idea to buy her and Anna Kimball a pretend doctor's kit so that she might get a little more comfortable with the unavoidable reality of doctor's visits ... so far she is quite content to be "Dr. Emery" but certainly not the patient.

We've been breaking out the sundresses, actually for quite a while since it's been warm here all May. Pardon Anna Kimball's exposure.

I'm slowly getting back into shape while also trying to avoid joining the gym again. I have a free trainer who actually lives with us and has invested more than a birthday checks in our garage gym, so I'm giving that a go. Fortunately the kids enjoy watching the spectacle of me attempting multiple pushups at a time, so here's hoping the novelty of it doesn't wear off too soon.

As for Jamison, well, he's doing a great job of rolling with our routine and actually is sleeping better out of the house than in the house these days. Such is the life of a third child I guess.

He loves to be sung to, is in the 75th and 90th percentiles for weight and height and has even had a number of solo visits to our dear angel neighbor who frequently invites the girls to play. Somehow I've been able to hide the fact that she came and went with their baby brother, but I'm not sure how!

They surprised me

My expectations for last week were pretty low, since I figured weaning all of us from grandparental attention and help would be pretty tough. Turns out I should have had more confidence in all of us. Let's start with Jamison, otherwise known as the boy who sleep-trained himself at 6 1/2 weeks.

Here I was, gearing myself up for some pretty miserable cry-it-out sessions at 8 weeks, and the child goes ahead and shows me that he's just fine going to sleep by himself, morning, noon or night. Part of me is wondering if I did something wrong with Emery and Anna Kimball that they had to scream-it-out on more than one occasion, and part of me wonders if he's just amazing. And part of me doesn't care, because hey, I just got a lot of time back in my day now that he doesn't need my arms to cradle him to dreamland.

And then there's Emery and Anna Kimball, who spent quite a bit more time at home than usual this week. Didn't seem to bother Emery a bit. She even asked to stay home quite a few times. She and Anna Kimball played together better than ever, rarely needed timeouts and didn't drive me to the pantry for some chocolate relief any more than they normally do.

This isn't to say there weren't challenges or that I think it will be a cakewalk from here on out. It's just to say that sometimes having low expectations isn't such a bad thing, since being pleasantly surprised is always a good thing!

Maternity leave is over

Henny and Papa, who rented a small house nearby for a month, left two weeks ago and Grammie swiftly took their place. She actually stayed with us and pretty much had zero breathing room from her adoring brood of grandchildren. I admire her stamina. A lot.

Yet, all good things must come to an end, including this stay-at-home-mom's version of maternity leave. Grammie left yesterday and our "new normal" begins tomorrow when Matt leaves for work. I'm hoping our new normal won't include an uptick in meltdowns, timeouts and general domestic disorder but let's be real -- it will.

It's a good thing there's ice cream in the freezer, wine in the pantry and an Internet connection. As far as I know, there's nothing a little dairy, Cabernet or Berenstain Bears on YouTube can't ameliorate, right?

Nocturnal comic relief

Last night was rough. Jamison was up constantly and difficult to settle back down. Icing on the cake was that Emery, who rarely wakes us up in the night, hollered out on four different occasions with four different dilemmas. One of which was that her "foot wrists" hurt.

So I guess she doesn't know the word ankle yet. Taking solace in the fact that I was able to laugh at this despite my ever increasing sleep deficit.

Four weeks and counting

Jamison is now four weeks old and thus far we've gotten quite a taste of life with three kids. I say "taste" because Henny and Papa have been here, Matt's mom comes next week and the meals from church have been a'flowin. So I'd say we've been sampling reality in spurts so far and from what I can tell, much about life with three is great (or, let's be honest, will be great when we get through this rocky, needy newborn phase) and lots of it is hard. Case in point - Jamison has his first cold. Emery didn't get a cold until she was seven months old. But, every time I turned my back this week, snotty-nosed Anna Kimball would snag an opportunity to put her face right up close to his and just stare. So be it.

It's no fun seeing your newborn sick, but he's hanging in there and has promised to sleep tonight.

He's growing rapidly and has already jumped from a birth weight of 7 lb. 6 oz to somewhere in the low 9 lb. range. And I swear he's been smiling for the past few weeks even though that's not supposed to happen until 6 weeks. 

Jamison spends his nights snug as a bug in the carseat in the living room. Doesn't he look regal there? We're holding off giving him Anna Kimball's room until he learns to sleep on his own ... and I am counting down the days. Even caught myself Googling "cry it out four weeks" the other day. But I'm not that heartless. We'll give it a few more days ... ok, weeks.

Night, night Jamison - remember your promise about tonight? Love, Mom.

Love this

Now that Henny and Papa are here, the girls can resume much of their normal routine, including a weekly trip to the produce market. The two women who work behind the counter and always give Emery free grapes, me a helping hand out to the car and Anna Kimball lots of oohing and ahhing (not that they wouldn't give her grapes, too - she just doesn't want them) got to find out about Jamison this week and the girls got to giggle under the peppers. After the whirlwind that was last week and weekend, we sure do need some normalcy around here and this fits the bill. And makes me smile.

Welcome to the world, Jamison Matthew Doescher!

Going into the birth of our third child, I had a little list of prayers/worries/hopes. For instance, I've never had my actual doctor deliver any of the girls, so I was kind of hoping that might work out this time. I've also had epidurals for the last two deliveries and not regretted them at all ... but have had this nagging curiosity about what it would be like to go natural, could I really do it, would it actually be better, help me experience it "more" (YES), etc. etc. But my convictions were so weak and I knew that without a doula or large sums of money invested in natural child birthing classes I'd quickly cave to the temptation of an epidural if it was an option. So my only hope was for there to not be enough time to get one.

And then of course there's the question of when will labor happen, will it be in the middle of the night, will help for the girls arrive in time, will Matt be able to leave work easily, will it happen on Emery's birthday (March 20, day after due date), etc. etc.

Well, looking back, it's easy to see how each of these items was so clearly taken care of and I'm still kind of amazed at how it all worked out. On Wednesday night I went to bed not feeling so hot, but didn't think much of it. I woke up at 12:45am with a backache that came and went, suspiciously like early contractions. It was hard to grasp that this could actually be "it" since the girls have both been late ... plus, Henny and Papa weren't even here yet!

Around 2:30 I decided this really was "it" and called our angel neighbor who was actually lying in bed awake! She hustled down to stay with the girls and we left for the hospital, checking in at 3:25. My doctor arrived at 4:15 and at 4:25, Jamison Matthew was in my arms. No time for an epidural and even better, only about 20 minutes of pain that made me beg for an epidural. 

I need to sear this experience in my mind for whenever I doubt that the Lord will provide and that he knows what's best. In all of these ways and many more it's so evident he orchestrated every single detail of Jamison's arrival. 

Now that we're home and settling into a new normal, things feel pretty crazy. Maybe because they are. Emery is turning four in a few days and had her first real birthday party yesterday. Henny and Papa are here, we had a surprise visit from Uncle Craig, presents are everywhere, mealtime rules are laxing, the house looks like a tornado blew through (well, until Henny puts things back in order), and everyone's moods are swinging like chandeliers. Except mine. I'm perfectly balanced and calm ... riiiighht. But maybe there is one real exception - Matt, who remains unflappable.

But it's OK. I'm not complaining. Jamison Matthew, anything for you. We love you!!!

Dinners on the deck

The weather's getting warmer and we're rediscovering the deck at dinnertime. This evening, I commented to Matt that a year ago today, Anna Kimball could have been walking and tromping around the deck making mischief as she has been this week with Emery, but the poor thing was still scooting. And this made having fun outside more tricky. Oh, how grateful I am that that season is behind us ... and oh how I pray this baby due to make his/her arrival any day now will outpace his/her sisters when it comes to walking. If not, well, oh well, We know no other way!

Last night Anna Kimball snagged my napkin and I sort of wondered why, but got distracted. Then, minutes later she started trying to drag the heavy cast aluminum chairs across the deck and I got frustrated. But then, Matt told me to turn around because bless her heart, she was just trying to "set the table" for her and Emery to have a second dinner. Melt me.

Last week Matt mentioned we hadn't had fish much lately and I then explained my fish frustrations - we can't get good fresh fish here, the mediocre stuff is still expensive, who really looks forward to fish for dinner, what nutritional value other than a ton of protein does the cheapest fish, tilapia, really have, etc. etc. etc. 

But then I went and bought a bag of frozen tilapia at Target and lo and behold the girls love it. So as much as I loathe being trapped into "we always have 'X' to eat on such and such a night," pan-fried tilapia might become a regular rotation in the dinner diary now.

I've tried this before

A dinner diary. Nothing fancy, just jotting down what we ate each night, if for no other reason than to give myself the satisfaction of looking back and seeing that even if it feels like I can get nothing done in a day, I did make dinner.

I tried doing this a year or so ago and it lasted about a month. This Christmas Matt gave me a gift card to create a custom journal and since my current personal journal is gathering dust, I didn't see any reason to make a new one with the wishful thinking it might actually get written in. So I made a new dinner diary and have been faithfully recording our meals since mid-January.

For the past week or so, I've been in a huge cooking rut, though maybe it's more of a grocery shopping rut. I'm thoroughly exhausted by trying to plot out when to go to which store for what, how to plan within our budget and dietary preferences, how to think on the fly when something I didn't know was on sale actually is, or when "x" item of produce or meat isn't available/looks pathetic, etc. etc. etc.

I haven't come up with any great solutions yet, but one thing I know is this - we eat ground turkey once a week. So why am I not buying four pounds of it on the first of the month and freezing three of them? That would at least solve one night's dinner dilemma each week.

On that note, here's February 24th's turkey dinner - turkey sloppy joes. Enjoy! We did.

Carrot soup and a snow day

Today I had no real plan for dinner, since I just didn't know exactly how this snow day would evolve or what kind of leftovers we would have from the nights before. I tend to lose a little steam when it comes to cooking on Thursdays, and when better to wing it than on a snow day?

I also tend to feel a little panicky if I don't have a stash of carrots in the fridge, but the sad truth is that they often get neglected until they are rubbery and pretty much unappetizing. Naturally, today I had almost two pounds of carrots sitting in the crisper, getting less and less crisp by the day. I knew I could do some kind of baked potato main/side, throw in some leftover pork for Matt, but what to do about a vegetable? Roasted carrots just didn't sound right. I did have kale, but I really didn't feel like washing it. But then I remembered soup! (How could I forget soup? I could eat it daily in the winter and be happy) And just as I was about to tackle a slightly complicated carrot soup recipe, I remembered reading this - how to make any pureed vegetable soup in 5 steps. Bingo. Easy. Peasy. Throw in some white beans from last night's dinner and it gets even more satisfying.

Our snow day should really be reclassified as a snow morning. Even though we had around six inches on the ground at daybreak, by early afternoon the sun and warm temps had done quite a bit of work melting away our winter wonderland. Oh well. It was beautiful and fun while it lasted.

New habits

I really wouldn't call myself a "crafty mom." However, since we've been spending more time at home recently and since perhaps I might subconsciously be trying to overwhelm the girls with my "fun-ness" before I become the sleep-deprived, irrationally emotional mother of a newborn, we've been seeing quite the uptick in visual arts around here lately.

Today's mess, I mean craft, was scented microwave puffy paint. I know, kind of sounds a little weird, but it's actually so easy and the girls had a lot of fun with it. I wouldn't say they created anything that resembled anything, although Emery did crank out a few E's that survived microwaving, but the process of whisking and squeezing the paint more than made their morning. Especially since the craft was preceded by a dreaded trip to the dentist for Emery, who screamed so hard that at one point we were surrounded by three dental hygienists as well as the dentist himself, all trying to placate poor Emery.

Since I expended so much effort with the craft and dentist, I decided to take it easy on myself for dinner. Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I am coming to grips with the fact that I often put too much pressure on myself to cook complicated dinners. Not because I think anyone around here really expects complicated, but because sometimes I don't get satisfaction from making quick-and-easy chili recipes.

I'm realizing this is going to need to change some once Baby D #3 decides to make his/her appearance, so I'd better start adjusting now. Hence, turkey chili even an eight-year-old can make. This chili comes together in less time than it takes to conduct a scented microwave puffy paint project and actually has depth of flavor. If you're like me, you probably already have most of the ingredients on hand, making it an ideal finale to a day when dinner just doesn't need to be complicated.

Anna Kimball is 2!

Our sweet, silly Anna Kimball turned two last week. It's fortunate that she seems to be in a good stretch here behavior-wise, so I have all kinds of glowing things to report about our new two-year old, who I know could hit a stretch of "terrible twos" again any day now. Around Christmas she had a slew of tantrums that compelled me to order a cheap baby gate to set up in the doorway to her room for time-outs. Of course just as soon as the gate arrived, the tantrums started to die off ... so we are enjoying these pleasant moments as they come.

Anna Kimball is far more opinionated than Emery was at age two. For instance, she won't tolerate at least half the clothes in her dresser and will definitely not wear tights right now. She knows exactly which two books she wants before bed - they aren't always the same books, but no substitutions will be accepted. She also has the odd bedtime ritual of always insisting that we switch the monkey lovey that's in her bed with the spare monkey lovey that's in her top dresser drawer. "Two monkeys!" she cries and that's when we know it's time to make the switch.

Since Anna Kimball barely wears most of her own clothes, it's a pretty good thing she's basically the same size as Emery and is now working her way into Emery's wardrobe, too. She's in the 75th percentile for height and the 90th for weight. You'd think that would mean Anna Kimball is a good eater, and I guess in some senses she is, since she's always ready for the next meal (or "MUNCH!" as she calls it) but she is still very selective about what she eats.

Currently, her favorite activities include Play-Doh, playing with her Critter doll house, pretend cooking, playing with dolls, looking at books and dress-up. In some ways, she plays better on her own than even Emery does now, something I attribute to being a second child and something that also gives me great hope that Baby D #3 will be even more independent than his/her sisters!

Anna Kimball is a cuddler for sure and her cheerful disposition brightens this house every day. I love how she's not quite a big girl yet (well, in one sense she is I guess!) but is slowly becoming more intentional and learning new skills with each passing week. It can be so fun to observe this process, especially since now I realize how brief it really is.

I supposed it's time to end this "Ode to Daughter #2" before a tantrum erupts - Happy Birthday Anna Kimball! We adore you!