My Children are Magnetic

Hey y'all. Sorry it's been so long. You'd think I'd have written a post while I still had access to the cool, fast computer. Nope. I waited until I had to use the dinosaur computer and now it's taking me twelve years to get this done because of how slowly it chugs. But it's a new year, and it's time to get started. Here we go.

I'm totally serious about my kids being magnetic. Specifically to me. Their goal in life is to invade my personal space as thoroughly and as frequently as possible. Here we go.

Case Study 001: The Suction Cup

Katie's never been a super cuddly kid. Ever since her brothers were born, however, (surprise!) she's been super cuddly. She will immediately climb into my lap, wrap her arms around my neck, and stick her cheek against mine as soon as I've sat down, in any form whatever. This includes but is not limited to reading a book on the couch, eating lunch at the kitchen table, and sitting on the floor while trying to change a wiggly boy's diaper. On occasion it makes things slightly more difficult. You know how people with cats joke about how their cats have to always be on their laps or on their shoulders or be involved somehow? Katie's worse than that.

Case Study 002: The Piranha

So imagine: the boys are happy, wiggling around on the floor chewing on blocks or power cords or whatever, perfectly content while I do things. I finish my task and go sit down on the floor to watch them. Immediately upon seeing me, both boys furiously army crawl across the room toward me, and immediately start gnawing on whatever part of my body is closest. I then have giant soaked spots all over my jeans, and frequently a hickey on my elbow or wrist. Yeah, every single day.

Case Study 002A: The Heat-seeking Missile

If I put the boys on the floor, freshly fed and napped and such, Peter will scoot off to get into mischief. Josh will appear to be content with whatever toy is closest, at least until I leave the room. If I step into the kitchen to start dinner or whatever, Josh will follow me. I'll put a pot on the stove, and when I turn around to open the fridge, Josh has wriggled all the way around the corner and is gunning for me, pausing only to eat things of mysterious origin off the floor. Seriously, that kid is fast. Once he's in the kitchen, he follows me back and forth. I walk to the pantry, he wriggles over to chew on my ankles. I walk back to the stove, he wriggles over and sucks on my big toe. I go to an empty bit of counter to chop something, he wriggles over and chews on my ankles again.

Case Study 002B: The Alarm Clock

Peter doesn't chase me down very often. Quite the contrary. When he's tired or hungry or feeling otherwise emotional or needy, he doesn't come for me. He collapses down on his belly, waves his limbs around, and starts shrieking. You know those obnoxious alarm clocks that keep buzzing until you smack them? You know how you learn to ignore it, but only to a certain point, and then you have to make it stop or go completely mad? That's Peter's tactic. It's pretty effective.

That's my life. Oh, the other thing Joshy guns for is anything that I forget to close, like the bathroom door or gate-less stairs.

As for Katie-isms, I only have a couple today. 

The other day, Katie wanted to read stories, so I told her to go pick a few. Rather than any of the hundreds of picture books in our possession, she went over and got my Folger editions of Antony and Cleopatra, Hamlet, and Love's Labors Lost. What? Well, she handed me the first one, and just jokingly, I flipped through it and told a very abridged and simplified version of the story of Antony and Cleopatra's war and suicide. Mike looked at me and said, "Gee, that's really kid friendly." I looked back at Katie, ready to make up some other story, but she said, "Oh, that was great!" And handed me Hamlet. Maybe we have another English major on our hands. Sorry, Papa. I'm sure you'll get one of the boys in the engineer camp.

One night during the break, at like 1:30 in the morning, Mike and I both woke up because we heard a little voice in the hallway singing a song about "I love my Daddy! I need to get my Daddy!" When Katie came into our room, she climbed into our bed and settled down between us, and said, "I was just sad sitting in my room without any parents, so I came in here to get some parents."

One more! You know how with most children their favorite movies are the ones that have recently come out? Like how Katie watched Tangled almost every day for the entire 9 months of my pregnancy with the boys? Well, turns out it's more like the most recently acquired. She still loves Tangled and Wreck-it Ralph, but her favorite movie right now is Robin Hood, which one of us got for Christmas while it's out of the "vault." In fact, she's watching it right now to stay out of my hair (aka off the keyboard).

I guess those weren't really Katie-isms. More like examples of Katie's goofiness. 

Now I guess I should put up some pictures of Christmas so you guys will keep coming back to my blog, huh?

Katie's new haircut! (I couldn't remember if I put pictures up, even though this was like a month and a half ago.)

Church is just really exhausting, okay?

Immediately following this picture, Michael had a near-death experience.

Dressed up for Christmas program Sunday

There's just something about a guy in a bow tie and dress coat . . .

She insisted on going out on the balcony to help Daddy hang our icicle lights even though her nose was instantly red.

Making cookies to leave for Santa

Smiling at Daddy and the camera quickly turned into a game of cheek-push

Christmas Eve night: reading Mr. Willowby's Christmas Tree several times over to stall bedtime

Katie got the most loot from Santa, Grandmas, and Parents. By far.

Peter got yogurt melts in his stocking. He's good.

I think people know these guys pretty well: they got like a billion baby snacks.

Josh just making out with a spot on the wall. No big deal.

"I'm going to send this one to Mr Papa." Thanks, Grammy, for the finger paint! If I ever get them in the mail, we already have masterpieces to send to all the grandparents.

Happy 2014! Do you guys remember those furniture commercials that were like, "Buy now, and pay no interest until 2014!" And we were all thinking, "Whoa, 2014 is, like, 70 years away!" Well, 2014 is now. I'm going to go try not to freak out now.