The Jesus King of Everything Album Collection
I should start by saying that articles have been less frequent because my brain has shrunken. Each time I sit down to pontificate on the overall hilarity of life with my kids, I draw a blank. I think this kid’s so huge that she’s now actually squeezing out room for my brain. (I shouldn’t joke; my friend Kate recently pushed out a twelve-pound kid, and I don’t want to tempt fate.) But anyway, I also have a whole slew of new pictures to post, of pumpkin painting, and of course, my newest “Watch Colleen Grow” picture, and I promise to post the photos tonight, around nine. I’m also trying to come up with a new title for the “grow” album, because I think something like “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Colleen Elio!” would be more appropriate. Or maybe we’ll just change the title to show the Green Peace logo.
Connor has become quite the songwriter. He's only writing religious songs, though, and they're all pretty weird. Every single one is called "Jesus King of Everything" and has a number attached to distinguish it from the others-- "Mom, do you want to hear 'Jesus King of Everything 1' or 'Jesus King of Everything 7'? Or, I could sing 'Jesus King of Everything and His Mom'. Whichever you want." The song stylings range from upbeat, baptist-style ditties, with lyrics like "Oh, I can't believe Jesus gave me such a happy life with my happy Mommy and my great Dad and my nice brother [clap clap clap]..." to decidedly gothic lyrics, like, "[makes weird hissing and beat-boxing noises with his mouth] Jesus wants us all to get old so we can be happy in Heaven, but we're gonna have to die first, so don't work for the devil, because that's not good news..." Alrighty then. Perhaps we need to fine-tune the religious education aspect of his home schooling.
Ror is, I have to admit, the apple of my eye these days. All of the kids entertain me constantly, but Ror is just completely hilarious with his stunts and comments. Last night we painted pumpkins, and he hummed a little tune as he mixed every conceivable color combination into a muddy soup, and then gave a detailed description of the final masterpiece: “It’s a dinosaur, saying ROAR! And a spider with all the colors, and he bites the friend, and the friend is ME!” He says it in such a hurried, breathless, suspenseful way that one can’t help but burst into laughter (which annoys him to no end, of course). He’s also started peppering his speech with phrases like “Actually,” and “Well, we’ll see.” As Mammam would say, “He talks like an old man!” Yeah, an old man with the climbing ability of a monkey. His athleticism really freaks us out, given that neither Chris nor I are exactly ready to try out for the Olympic games. He continues to escape from the crib at night (which is why Santa plans to break down and bring a big boy bed for Christmas) and, frankly, can beat the living daylights out of his older brother when he feels it’s necessary—just for serious offenses, though, like sassing Mommy or suggesting that Gilbert is better than Hero-Chicken. Otherwise, he’s a gentle giant.
Riley Kate has been spending her days giving orders, as usual. I don’t think we can describe her as anything but spoiled. People actually stop us in stores now to comment on the withering glances she gives in response to baby talk. Passersby will say, “Aren’t you the cutest little thing? Are you helping Mommy shop? Is the little bitty cutie helping Mommy shoppy-woppy?” Upon hearing the syrupy tone, her eyebrows go down, her eyes narrow to slits, and she clearly sends a message, and that message is, “I am burning a hole in your head with my eyes. How dare you speak condescendingly to me, you fool!” Then the stranger invariably says something like, “Oh MY! I made her MAD! Look at that GLARE!” We try to walk away quickly to diffuse the situation before she starts rotating her head 360 degrees or spitting green goo or any other unpleasantness that would indicate demonic possession. My only possible explanation for the hostility is that people do tend to think that she’s a lot younger than she is because of her size (and sometimes even say things like, “wow, she’s really SMALL!”), and because she now talks, most members of the household have dropped the baby talk and expect her to answer regularly phrased questions. Maybe she feels insulted?
The kids are all basically spending their days anxiously awaiting the birth of the newest member of the family and providing us with fun and non-stop activity every minute of the day. They all enjoy yelling into my belly button, “Come on out, baby sister!” and employing other productive strategies to help the time pass faster. Who knows if any of their techniques will indeed urge our little elf to arrive on schedule, but in any case, the anticipatory sense of Advent is particularly real for us this year!
|
