Preschool done right

Frances was a wee bit peckish after school yesterday.

Add food, wait 30 seconds, and voila!  Happy Frances.

And filthy Frances.  Notice the dirt; she had clumps of it in her hair.  Notice the shoes; she put those on herself.

I am so glad I didn't bother cleaning the tub before she came home from school.  Procrastination pays!

A-sailing we will go

Frances came up with this one all by herself and asked that Chandler ride in her boat, too.  Frances decorated her boat with our best hand towels, because she's got good taste.

And she decided to put in a rudder, chose the rudder, and installed the rudder all by herself, too.

I have high hopes that we have a sailor or two on our hands.

Six Months of Baby Chandler

The "Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres" Edition 

Chandler is now capable of rolling from her back to her front without props (props are for five month-olds).  I left her on her back, on the rug.  I returned to find her conquering Gaul.

Six Months Fun Facts

• Stats: She is 26.5 inches long (that's around the 75th percentile).  She weighs 15 pounds, 5 ounces (that's around the 50th percentile). And her head is 42.5 cm (again, around the 50th percentile).
• Mobility: Rolls front to back and back to front.  Scooches remarkably quickly, especially backwards.  She can push up with her arms and lift her torso clear off the ground.  Her pediatrician took this as a sign that crawling is imminent.  I once found her doing the plank pose, with only her hands and toes on the ground and the rest of her suspended.
• Sleep: Better, sorta.  She seems to alternate good and bad nights.  A good night is two feedings.  A bad night is four feedings and a fussing or two. Momma is not a good momma following a bad night.
• Temperament: Still just as happy as a clam and she loves her big sister.  Chan-la (as her sister calls her) is definitely a keeper.

Forty-Five Months of Preschooler Frances

The trains are still with us.

Forty-Five Month Fun Facts

• More mispronunciations: "Winned" for won, "leafed" for left, "growed" for grew, etc.  And "frogel" for freckle, as in, "Mom, I like that frogel on your back."  Well, thank you, Frances.
• Arm update: Frances's arm is back in shape, no more splint, though she has a new appreciation for bones.  She's reported several broken leg bones, but I think she'll survive.
• Biggest aspiration: Dental hygienist?  Frances had her second trip to the dentist and brought home a goody bag with a new toothbrush and toothpaste.  She's brushed her teeth so many times in the past week that she's almost used up her toothpaste and she likes to check her shiny teeth in the mirror.

Heaven help us

Chandler is getting very good at backing herself into corners.  How did we get to this point so fast?  Third children must be born walking.

She thinks it's stupendous.

Twenty-Seven Weeks

Lounging with Auntie Jocelyn

The whole gang stuck around for a day or so after the baptism.  This was wonderful for me; someone was always willing to hold Chandler.  Often, that someone was Auntie Jocelyn.  

Just don't ask her to change diapers.  She says she's done with diapers - the nerve, after only three kids, too!

Sealed by the Spirit

We took Chandler home to Arkansas to be baptized surrounded by family and friends, the best way to do it, in my opinion. (Plus, the church we attend here in Boston wanted the godparents to be weekly church attendees - we aren't even weekly church attendees.)  After a very extended, unscheduled stay in the Chicago airport, the visit went off without a hitch.  The hardest part of the day was getting Chandler into her baptismal gown.  She didn't cooperate, but she did have a good time.

Here, Godmother Auntie Lindsay, you hold her.

The service flew by; Chandler was a champ and even slept for a bit.  Afterwards, Mimi and Sir hosted lunch for the family and close friends - a cozy get-together for twenty-one. Chandler and her grandmother look good together, don't they?

This here is Auntie Beth, maker of the baptismal gown.  She's got mad skills.  I keep waiting for her to retire and dedicate her time to sewing, cooking, writing, acting (yes, she does all these) or another artistic pursuit that strikes her fancy. 

Getting all the key players in a photo was a bit of an undertaking, but we did all manage to be in the same place at the same time long enough for one photo.  Here's the star of the show with her parents and godparents, Lindsay and Todd.

Twenty-Five Weeks

We must make do with a phone picture this week.

Chandler had gotten hold of her sister's shoe.  Happy Chandler, sad sister.

Mimi and Sir and George

These folks...

...and this kiddo...

...and this kiddo...

(and Mark and I but we're pretty good at avoiding the camera) took the ferry out to George's Island for a morning visit during Mimi and Sir's return trip to Arkansas.  Such a fun trip - it's easy and cheap, yet feels a little exotic because it involves a boat.  And there's lots of space for exploring once on the island.

Frances tried to keep up with Mimi and Sir's historical tour of the island, but we quickly decided unguided exploring was more our speed.

Poor Frances managed to get hurt five times on the island (one ouchy moment involved a swinging camera and her forehead, but her knees saw most of the action).  A yummy, simple blueberry galette was just the thing to ease her wounds, though, come to think of it, her parents and grandparents kept it all to themselves.

Oh, well, I'm sure she wouldn't have liked it anyway.

Miss Wiggle stops

One night, after Frances went to sleep, I propped Chandler up next to her dad and got some work done around the house.  When I came back to them, I found Miss Wiggle had finally stopped wiggling.

Welcome home

What does Mark get at the end of a hard work week?

Mark gets tackled, that's what Mark gets.

Twenty-Four Weeks

These were the clearest photos I could get of Miss Wiggle.

Blueberries for Frances and Chandler

We hadn't been blueberry picking yet this season, so church got scrapped yet again (next week!).  Mark did most of the picking this time while I took Frances to pee in the woods multiple times.  I made the mistake of singing her a little Peeing In The Woods song that my grandmother sang to me when the occasion warranted and I think she liked it a bit too much.

After picking, we visited the farms goats.  This farm has a genius strategy for preventing the goats from nibbling on the children.  The children put goat food in cups on a conveyor belt and then turn the conveyor belt to take the food to the goats in their goat high rises.  Problem solved.

Chandler got to watch her sister's antics, as usual.

Back home, we made blueberry cobbler.

It was not bad, if you ask me.

Not quite the homemade peach blueberry cobbler with ginger infused ice milk that my overachieving sister made on the same day, but two overachievers in one family would be too exhausting, so I try to keep my goals modest.

Twenty-Three Weeks

Goofing Around with You

And then Frances started getting bored.