Reagan Elio, Girl Genius.
So much to tell. I keep writing things down, so I remember what I want to post, but then I lose the little slips of paper. Such is the life of a scatterbrained ditz.
Well, obviously, first news first. WE ARE BUYING A HOUSE! Many followed the saga of the first house breaking my heart by being callously ripped off the market (okay, maybe it was less dramatic than that; the owners just decided not to sell), and now it seems that we will be buying almost the identical house, except for the fact that the windows on this house are maintenance free, the house has a custom deck (it is a REALLY cool deck), the living room is so fabulous that I can’t even use words to describe it because you’d have to see me gesticulating wildly and enthusiastically, AND the girls’ room is already the perfect shade of pink. So, God knew what He was doing! Of course, the owners have not legally accepted our offer yet, but we offered exactly what they were asking and it’s all written up. We should be closing on July 28th. It is definitely in move-in condition, so I am thrilled beyond words.
Connor and Ror’s take on the house-hunting process has been a little weird. No matter how many times we tell them otherwise, they believe that the house comes with all of the previous owners’ possessions. So, for instance, when we saw a house a few weeks ago, Connor commented, “Well, I like the TV in this one, but I don’t appreciate that they have pictures of other children hanging on the walls.” Ror’s opinion was more straightforward: “No sandbox? I don’t want this house.” Fortunately, the current owners of the home we’re purchasing have lots of cool “kid things” in their house, so Connor and Ror both voted in the affirmative. They’re in for a huge shock on closing day when they walk in and find it empty.
Riley Kate got off to an early start with her shenanigans yesterday when she managed to use my cell phone to call Katie at 9am. She plays with my phone pretty much every day, and always pretends to talk to Katie, so I thought nothing of it when I heard her saying, “HI, Katie! I’m putting my shoes on! I’m going to E-town!” I took the phone from her and said, “Don’t play with the phone.” No sooner had I hung up, Katie called back to let me know that she had actually been on the line. Then she earned some “thinking time” for screaming at me, “I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS!” when I told her that she shouldn’t be making unauthorized phone calls. Then, when we arrived in E-town and set the kids free to roam the Fun Fort, Riley Kate looked around and screamed in horror, "KATIE! We forgot her! [falling to her knees] KAAAAATIIEEEEE!"
My biggest news on the kid front is that Reagan is a genius. Seriously. Still skeptical? I thought you might be, which is why I have obtained signed affidavits from the two witnesses of the following incident:
On Saturday, Reagan was sitting in her little seat thing on the counter while I peeled potatoes. Mark was in the kitchen with me. Reagan was babbling, but the babbling soon became whining. I started talking to her. “Reagan, do you just want Mommy to pay attention to you?” No response; continued whining. “Who’s Mommy’s little Gipper? Who’s my Gipper?” Whining escalated. “Do you just want Mommy to nurse you?” Immediately she began kicking her legs and emitting a high pitched squeal while grinning from ear to ear. Mark and I looked at each other, totally amazed. Mark said, “I can’t believe I just saw that!” I tested her: “Reagan, do you want me to put you in the dishwasher?” Fussing, whining resumed. “Do you want some meatloaf?” No response. “Do you want me to nurse you?” Again, squealing, kicking, grinning. We felt like we had our own circus act!
Then yesterday morning as I was filling sippy cups for the other kids, Mark came into the kitchen and suggested we do it again. This time, Alyakim was present. I said, “Alyakim, watch this, Reagan understands what I say to her.” Alyakim, true to form, rolled his eyes.
“Reagan, do you want to go in the garbage can?” No response. “Do you want a Popsicle?” She looked away. “Do you want me to take you downstairs and nurse you?” Kicking, squealing, smiling. Alyakim was blown away and concurred that she is, indeed, our very own little prodigy.
Well, more ramblings of this obnoxious parent later. I haven’t kept up on the blog lately, but I got an influx of emails this weekend telling me that y’all enjoy the articles, so, you know, nothing like praise and flattery to motivate me once again.
|
