The Art of Negotiation

JR:  Mommy, may I have some [sidewalk] chalk please?
Me:  No, you may not.
JR:  Why?
Me:  You've made bad choices.  You hit your sister over her head with a Lightning McQueen chair and you hit your brother over his head with your sippy cup.
JR:  I'll be good.
Me:  No.
JR:  Mommy, Alex has been good.
Me:  Yes, he has.
JR:  Mommy, may Alex have some chalk please?
Me:  No, because you will beat him up and steal his chalk.
JR:  But Mommy, I wanted Alex's chalk!  [JR groans and stomps off.]

A Day in the Life of the Fourth Child

Zach was born to a family of fun-filled rascals.  Today, while I was running downstairs to get a Buzz Lightyear bandaid for Alex, this is what happened to the baby:

Yes, he was toilet papered.  Yes, that is an American Girl doll Bitty Twin boy hat.  Yes, that is Zoe in the background with a swim diaper on her head.  I could go on and on about this picture, but I won't.  I think this picture is worth a thousand words.  These are the perks of being the fourth child (in a house where your oldest siblings are now four)!

He Picked Us!

I received my best speeding ticket ever.  Driving through an area with a recently lowered speed limit, I get the sinking feeling as I hear the sirens and see the flashing lights in my rear view mirror.  With glee, JR shouts "The policeman picked us mommy!"  I respond, "This isn't a good thing; he's going to give us a ticket."  Zoe shouts, "Oh mommy!  You're going to get a ticket?  Will it be pink?"  JR says, "No it will be blue."  I respond, in my great experience in this area, "No, it will be yellow."  Alex giggles and says, "He turns his lights on!"  The policeman returns and as expected, hands me a yellow ticket.  Zoe, JR, and Alex begin clapping with gusto and shout, "You're right mommy!  You got a yellow ticket!  Yay!"

Fast forward two weeks, we're driving home from church.  JR says, "Mommy, drive faster."  I respond, "No, I'm driving the speed limit."  Zoe says, "Drive faster."  I respond, "No, I'm on deferred adjudication and don't need a conviction."  Then all three shout, "Drive faster!"  JR clarifies, "Mommy, you have to drive faster so the policeman will pick us."  Somehow, I just don't want to be picked.  Thanks speed demons.

Bunnys Redux

One of the cutest pictures of Zoe, JR, and Alex is a picture from last Easter with live bunnies.  In my naivete, I decided to try it again.  This was the result in 2011:

We arrived on Good Friday, only to sign up as #79 and be told the wait would be four hours.  Since we had driven so far, I decided to pass the time by taking them all to a movie (the movie "Hop" about the Easter bunny).  We arrived 45 minutes early and accidentally loudly walked in on the previous showing.  I quickly herded them all out of the movie and then they proceeded to eat 1/2 of the $10 bag of popcorn.  I decided we should go back to get our "free" refill before the movie started.  As we approached the concessions stand, JR ran ahead, fell, and slid across the carpet.  I look down and see him covered in blood--two war wounds had opened up and he was bleeding everywhere.  With all four kids in tow, I tried to clean him up and calm the hysteria.  Finally, we got to sit down for the movie to start.  As we sat down in our seats, the kids dumped the enormous super-large soda all over the floor right where we were sitting.  While trying to keep all four calm, I got down on my hands and knees cleaning up the mess.  Once it started, baby Zach did the loudest poop you've ever heard.  Not able to leave my other three, I decided to change the diaper in the dark.  Soon enough, I was covered in poop and wiping myself down with baby wipes.  I settled him (and myself) down and then Alex dumped the entire refilled popcorn bag all over Zach's head with the exclamation "Baby Hungry!"  After that, aside from some loud commentary from four year olds and repeated dancing in the aisles by two year olds, we survived the movie.  We then headed down to get pictures taken with live bunnies.  Four hours later, we still waited in a 20 minute line until the moment arrived.  The photo shoot went like this: (1) assistant photographer #1 tries to get the photo; fails; (2) three bunnies poop all over the set; they clean up the poop and remove one bunny; (3) assistant photographer #2 tries to get the photo; fails;   (4) two bunnies poop all over the set; they clean up the poop and remove one bunny (5) head photographer steps in, using assistant photographers #1 and #2 to try to calm my children; (6) failing to do so, we conclude that one bunny and four children (two happy, two sad) are as good as it gets.  The photographer looks exhausted and they hustle us out of the studio.  We lost one shoe and one credit card on the set.  I also lost one mind (my own).  Not sure it was worth it, but Happy Easter!

Thank You for Star Wars

When JR was saying his prayers one night, he began with his thank yous: "thank you for daddy, thank you for mommy, thank you for Zoe, thank you for JR [yes, that's right, he gives thanks for himself], thank you for Alex, thank you for Zachary."  And then came the new additions: "thank you for Star Wars, thank you for spaceships, thank you for light sabers, thank you for guns."

Captain J-Rex

Captain Rex

This new obsession has been brought on by our recent purchase of the cartoon series "Star Wars: the Clone Wars."  Our kids have special names for several characters.  There is "R2 Doo Tee" (aka R2D2), "Juan Kenobi" (aka Obi-Wan Kenobi), "My Soka" (aka Ahsoka Tano), "Uncle Grievous" (aka General Grevious").  They do get one right: "Master Yoda."  In fact, they yell through the fence at the neighbor boys "You're Master Yoda!"  They think being called a "Jedi" is an insult (we suspect because the "naughty" guys (as they call the bad guys) are always referring to "Jedi scum"); at dinner I'll frequently hear crying and then someone will sob, "Mommy, [he/she] called me a Jedi!"  JR has declared himself to be Captain Rex, which is apt, given that his nickname is J-Rex.  In the end, all we can say is, "Thank you for Star Wars."

Ode to Fox

Fox in Socks has been Zoe's best friend since she was one.  Fox went everywhere with Zoe.  That explains why Fox went from being a fluffy, red fox, to an emaciated, stuffing-gutted, dirty red fox.  At one, Zoe would cuddle Fox in her crib and fall fast asleep.  At two, she would randomly hold Fox in the face of strangers and shout "Fox!", leaving the strangers perplexed as to why this stinky red creature was being thurst at them.  At three, she would simply carry "baby Fox" around, placing it carefully in her car seat (straps on) when we would venture into the mall.  At four, Fox has been added to the missing persons registry.  It was last seen swinging with the baby dragon.  JR told Zoe that Fox went on a vacation, but then secretly told me that Foxy walked into the street and got run over by a car.  We honestly have no idea where Foxy went, but we want him to know that he is loved and missed.  And yes, we have identical replacements but they have been uniformly rejected--Faux Foxes are not for our Zoe.

Bye Bye Paci

Dearest Paci,

I don't know where you've gone, but I will miss you forever.  You were my dearest friend, always with me.  My mom says she's not sure what happened to them all (and I had about 20 because my daddy always kept me well stocked).  Incidentally, my daddy was out of town when the pacifiers all disappeared so I know that mommy is to blame.  She keeps referring to some mysterious "paci fairy" who took them, but I know better.  I cried for a day and still cry when I look at pictures of you.  But I now kindly give pacis to my baby brother Zach and think nostalgically of the good ol' days.

Love always,
Alex

It's a Pony Party

One, Two, Three, Four . . . Swaddle