Dear Jon David,

     You turned FOUR!  I say it every year with every kid, but I can't believe how quickly it sneaks up on us.  You have been such a sweet gift to our family.  Like I always say to Dave, "I'm not sure if he's an easier kid or if we've just been worn down already."  I'm pretty sure it's the latter.  (*No sooner did I type these words than I heard you say tearfully from the bathroom, "My quarter fell in the potty!" soon followed by, "There's poop on my finger.")

    You are definitely coming into your own more (read: joining the resistance), but you always keep us laughing.  You are constantly wanting to tell us a story, regardless of whether you know the plot to said story. You love an audience and have never met a stranger.  You still go to Myla if you've hurt yourself and I haven't given you an adequate amount of sympathy.  You want to marry one of your sisters, depending upon which one is being nicer to you at any given time.  Any time I ask you, "How did you get to be so smart/handsome/funny?" You reply, "Paw Paw teached me."

Let's walk through the last year in photos (in no particular order):

You played t-ball in the spring, and it was the cutest thing to ever happen.

We took a few trips to the animal shelter over the summer (read: air-conditioned entertainment in Texas), and you love the kitties.  You always, always want to visit the cats.  I'm not sure from where you inherited an affection for felines.

We got you these training chopsticks for your birthday. Pho is more adorable now.  Thanks, Amazon.

 Pho dates are also more expensive now that you're all about that crab rangoon.

 We started school!  Hopefully they teach you everything you need to know, because I'm tired.

Cousin Weston passed along a Superman costume which has been great for Halloween and also for taking the girls to school.

One day, you were upset because you didn't want to take a nap.  I was going to let you cry, but this guy wasn't. #Grandparents

You've been doing some chores.

Your methods aren't always conventional.

This is one of your newest jobs.

You are working on your computer skills.  There's still time.

You found some shade during observation time at Piper's horseback riding summer camp.

You weren't tired.

Max joined our family, and we're all trying to make him love us.  

One man's butterfly exhibit, another man's house of horrors.

We have enjoyed a few too many coffee dates.  You're still the only kid I know who will drink a sample of black coffee and pretend to like it.

Calm down, people.  This one isn't coffee.  It's steamed sugar milk.

WHY are doctor visits always terrible?

A few times this year, our van broke down and we tested the ability of the Ergo carrier.  (The verdict: it works, but you're heavy).

You attended your first Astros game!  Justin Verlander made quick work of it, so you did great.  You also joined the Astros Buddies, and you are asking when the game will be.  I hate to break it to you, but the Astros aren't coming to play a real game with you.  $25 can't make that kind of magic happen.

You are ready for anything.

We did some dog sitting.

I still take pictures of you while you sleep, and that sounds like the plot of a scary movie.

Bub, we love you big.  Happy birthday, and many moooooore!

Love, Mom

Dear Piper,

Last Monday, you turned six years old! Surprise, surprise: I can't believe the year we have had.  

Last year, there was a country song that I declared was my song for you. This year, courtesy of Cody Johnson, you have a new song! (Once again, must be sung with a country accent):

I could stay with you like this

Till the day love don't exist

Wild flowers bloom in an open field

And wither in a vase on a window seal

But you belong where the four winds blow

Out where the untamed mustang roam

Like a sweet summer rain passing through

Never seen anything wild as you

You amaze me every year, but this year has been a huge transition filled with all the ups and downs that come along with that.  In the fall, there were so many times when I would think, "Jesus, take the WHEEEEL!" but I look back now and think that these last few months have been a sweet season for us.  I swear in the beginning of the year, I was calling friends, asking for prayer, wondering if you should be in some sort of non-traditional outdoor school, considering therapeutic horseback riding lessons, or buying you a dog, or moving to a farm, getting you a therapist, or getting myself one.  (Sorry, girl, real talk).  But the truth is, you are just your own person, and my first guess at how to parent you best is often wrong.  So I'm getting better at laying down my expectations of what will work best for you and going from there.

So moving on-- you loved Kindergarten!  You found friends and stuck with them.  You loved your teacher who is so adorable that I want to be her friend but also not be awkward about it.  She seemed to have the perfect amount of patience and understanding to let you be yourself while still bringing out the best in you.  What more could I ask for?  You won the "Wonderful Writer" award at the end of the year, so maybe one day I'll be reading your books. (Judging by your descriptions of your scary dreams, I'd suggest starting with thrillers or dramas)... Speaking of wonderful writing, I found this handy how-to booklet while cleaning out your room:

This seems like a pretty complete manual, but in case you were concerned, I did find a page later that said, "Feed your dog."  So that pretty much covers everything.

Anyway, I should stop reminiscing before this gets out of hand, so get ready for a walk down Memory Lane. 

After your last birthday, you kids and I spent the summer in Sugar Land trading between family houses.  You are still the ultimate animal lover.

 (And the ultimate snuggler).

We were able to stay with Beth and Ande for the week of "Kindergarten Camp," so obviously you bonded with the resident chickens and Taylor the squirrel. 

  Before I knew it, you were off!

We went to Six Flags this fall, and you showed me that you still don't like to smile on command.

 But you DO like to ride the scary roller coasters.  (Not pictured: siblings and myself sitting this one out).

The evidence of theme-park success.  By the way, this is the year we buckled down and bought some yucky stuff to help you stop with the thumb.  I'm sorry, but also you're welcome, because our dental and orthodontic future is looking pretty grim.

This Christmas artwork displayed outside your classroom made me chuckle.

And of course I had to take a photo of these sleeping twinkies.

I will never stop loving the face paint design you chose at the Alliance Air Show.

Important development: You lost your first tooth.  After not committing to the Santa thing, I waffled on the Tooth Fairy, so Nana has just been slipping you guys $5 for every lost tooth, which is more generous than the tooth fairy could ever be. (So count that as another "sorry" and "you're welcome.")

 Your art was selected to be displayed at the District Art show! One or two pieces per class were chosen, so here you are with your fish. 

The "Box of Grievances" is a tool we're using for the summer, but I'm not yet ready to say that it's a roaring success.

You guys completed a 200-piece puzzle by yourselves!  I'm impressed because I hate puzzles, but I haven't told you that yet, because it seems like irresponsible parenting.

I went overboard, but you're pretty cool, and I love you.  I'm happy to keep watching you grow up.

Love, Mom

Anecdotes: When Facebook is Gone and I revert to Blogging

     No one may read this, because I usually link blog posts onto Facebook, but Facebook and I are taking a little break for now.  Don't worry, it's an amicable split from which I shall return.  But I know it's probably keeping Mark Zuckerberg up at night thinking about his one customer who has yet to foray into Instagram or Twitter, and don't even get me started on Snapchat.  I'll be one of those parents who has to attend class at the library to find out how to work devices pretty soon. 

What I've been reading...

     As is turns out, giving up social media has left me with more time to read.  Additionally, I have a newfound freedom where I allow myself to walk away from a book I'm not enjoying.  I have to talk myself into taking the leap each time, but with so many worthwhile things to read, why force yourself through something you don't connect with?  I'm not in school anymore, so take that, teachers.  (Just kidding, teachers, I love you so much.) Sadly, the book I recently walked away from is Hidden Figures.  I have yet to see the movie (though I really want to), but I expected the book to be a narrative that dives into the lives of the group of African American women who were vital to computing for NASA. While the book did begin to introduce the women before I quit reading, it wasn't as personal as I expected.  It is well-researched and well-written, but it reads more as an all-inclusive picture of the era. It is interesting, but didn't quite keep me hooked enough to forge through.  It reads like a verrry long newspaper article.  If you are into this type of nonfiction, you will love it.  It's just not for me.

     As a Judy Blume fan growing up, I was so excited to see that she'd written a book for adults.  Has this been happening?  How did I just find out?!  In the Unlikely Event is a novel set in Elizabeth, New Jersey in the 1950's and looks into how 3 plane crashes in the town affected the lives of the people forever.  I did not realize the historical accuracy of the plane crashes themselves until after I finished the book.  I wanted this to be a home run read, but for me, it wasn't.  I will say that Judy Blume is still a fantastic storyteller.  I cared about the characters, and I was never bored.  That said, this book has SO many characters.  There are many, "Wait, who is that?  Should I remember them?" moments.  When you aren't great with names, this can be tricky.  The ending is realistic rather than overly optimistic, so you can judge whether you'd be a fan based on that.

     Finally, I just finished When Breath Becomes Air.  Everyone, please read this book.  It is an achingly beautiful look into life, death, and relationships as told by Paul Kalanithi, a talented neurosurgeon who was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer in his 30's.  This book was published after his death.  He was one of those rare breeds of surgeon who also has the gift of words.  I don't know how this peek into death can be so honest and deep and yet not leave you with the burden of darkness weighing on you, but it does just that.  Reading time is only a few hours, so go for it. 

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A Glimpse into the Mind of my Animal-Loving Daughter

     We just started watching Wildlife SOS on Netflix because I can't stomach cartoons anymore.  It's a British reality show about an animal rehabilitation center.  During one of our first episodes, an adorable badger cub came into the center.  Unfortunately, he died from his injuries.  I glanced over at Piper, because she has such a soft heart and is definitely the one of my children who loves animals and snuggly things the most.

"I wonder if she's going to be upset," I thought.  "Is she going to cry over this?" I wondered.

I looked at her as she called to the vet on the television, "Just keep the body!"

     She has mentioned that she wants to be a rancher when she grows up, but she may have a future in the field of taxidermy. 

32 Things: A Birthday Edition

1. It's my thirty-second birthday.  I can only form thoughts in bulleted lists at this point, so here we are.
2. Not feeling well last night, I went to bed at 7:45 after doping up on Aleve, Benadryl, and my daughter's expired inhaler.
3. When I woke up, surprises did abound!
4. Dave cleaned up JD's pee sheets, because it's my birthday.  Also, he does stuff like that anyway, and I love that about him.
5. First, I received this lovely crown. 
   
6. Let's not forget the birthday sign(s). #spellingishard
   
7. Do yourself a favor and buy a "Happy Birthday" sign from the Dollar Tree.  Keep it.  Use it for every birthday until it breaks.  
   
8. We had a cinnamon roll "cake" for breakfast, because Dave can bake things.
9. I wore leggings as pants, because I just want to live my life.
10. The ride to school was a karaoke concert of The Greatest Showman soundtrack, because I bought the music to prepare before seeing the movie this weekend.
11. This just in: I do not sound like Keala Settle.
12. I went to Aldi with my sidekick kid.  The checker handed me my chocolate rather than throwing it into the basket, because she figured it was important to me and didn't want it to break. Bless her.  May she also one day have such a caring cashier when she buys herself a birthday treat at the discount grocery store.
    
13. I bought an iced mocha on the way home, because you know why. 
    
14. My family worked all week to give me this gift that keeps on giving! 
    
15. I had this cute, disgusting lunch buddy. 
    
16. I read through birthday messages and smiled a lot.
17. I momentarily forgot what the (Ctrl + ) shortcut is to "cut" something while writing this.  It seriously took at least 3 incorrect attempts to figure it out again.
18. I never ate lunch, so I grabbed a kiddie cup of cashews to take through the carpool pick-up line.
19. I brought along the book I'm reading currently.
20. Myla's teacher, who is an absolute angel, poked her head into my car window during pick-up and said, "I was going to email you.  Myla hasn't been doing her homework, and I thought that's not like her.  I made her do some of it in class today."  Cue my shame. Because I want to care about this, but I just do not.  Isn't it enough that I feed her everyday?
21. Myla is a rule follower who is now disappointed in my lack of commitment to homework, so I appeased her by adding a new daily alarm for "Homework Time."  
22. I ordered myself new running shoes.  Because sometimes I run.  Sometimes.  I forwarded Dave the confirmation email and said, "Thank you for my birthday present!"  That works for us.
23. I tried to figure out my Enneagram Type.  I might be a 6 with a 5 wing, but I'm not entirely sure.  Why is it so confusing?!
24. I listened to a podcast with a panel of type 6 people, because that's apparently a thing you can do.
25. My sister thinks I'm a total weirdo any time I talk about podcasts.
26. I gave some love to my neighbor's dog, and yes, that is a highlight, because that dog freaking rocks.  I love her.
27. Dave has to work a little late, so he'll miss dinner.  This means I'm shifting the meal plan.
28. Pro tip: If you are single-parenting during the dinner hour, feed the kids something they won't complain about.  Repeat after me: minimum effort to maximum payoff.  That's how you choose what to make for dinner.
29. These are ingredients for an acceptable dinner: 
    
30. Yes, I'm eating it too, because nostalgia.  Also, yum.
31. It's almost kid bedtime.
32. Seriously, look at this cuteness: