Halloween treats

OK, I admit it. My munchkins are unique. Take their Halloween experience, for example.

Instead of racing door to door demanding candy like the other crazed goblins in our neighborhood, they wanted to stay home and hand out candy. And not just when kids rang the doorbell.

They solicited trick-or-treaters. Threw open the door and Who II bellowed, in her best Ethel Merman impersonation, "HEY, KIDS! We got a LOT of CANDY HERE!"

Then, they'd yell, "You have to ring the doorbell!" and slam the door, refusing to open it until the goblins did their bidding.

Who I would carefully count the number of kids awaiting treats, then dole out the appropriate amount of treats. Who II had door duty, opening and closing, hollering "BYE BYE!" as the ghouls and monsters (and a couple of girls dressed as the "Deal or No Deal" bimbos) trotted off to their next conquest.

Baby Who was adorable in her pumpkin costume and scoped out the treat bowl -- even figuring out how to unwrap a lollipop all by herself.

Imagine the disappointment when 8 p.m. came and we informed the Big Whos that all the trick-or-treaters were back at their houses, basking in sugar highs. "No, some people might still come," Who I insisted. She finally gave up the ghost about 8:15.

Now, don't think I've sucked the joy out of the ghostly activities. They DID trick-or-treat at preschool -- and came home with such a mother lode that I could have avoided buying candy at all and just "regifted" what they got. They'll NEVER eat it all in a year. And they did visit a handful of houses in the neighborhood to show off their costumes and see their friends. But their true joy was in giving out the candy.

'Tis definitely better to give than receive, even on Halloween.

Cheetah girl and the Princess

Here they are, off for a sugar-filled day at school, trick-or-treating 'til they turn into pumpkins themselves.

Speaking of which, where, oh where, is the baby's pumpkin outfit? Must find!

The sisters three

Today was a Kodak moment. Literally. I broke out my trusty camera and -- after a month of trying -- came up with a picture of all three girls looking pretty good! Usually, Who I makes a goofy face (she's a real ham -- see what I mean?), Who II pouts or closes her eyes or the baby cries and tries to get away, leaving me with a wailing blur instead of the adorable Baby Who she is.

Rest assured, we had our share of silly outtakes. But finally -- success!

Dare I make the appointment for the professional Christmas picture?

I'm thrilled to finally have a decent picture of all three. I plan to send it, along with a translated letter, to Baby Who's orphanage. We want to thank them again for all they did for her, and tell her how well she is doing -- and what better way to overcome the language barrier than through pictures? My dear dad the photographer, who never got to meet his granddaughters, definitely would have approved.

Rambling

How much can an at-home mom cram into a week? Try physicals for two 4-year-olds at two different pediatricians. A mental health appointment for one of them. A new furnace and air conditioner one day. Duct cleaning the next. Throw in a quick trip to the vet for the itchy and inappropriately peeing cat and you've got yourself a full week! Gee, and I thought I'd be bored. Doesn't leave much time for scintillating conversation -- especially when your main companion mostly says "ahhhh-ya-ya," "dat!" and "doh" -- for dumb barking dog. Then again, she does throw in a very loud "MAMA!" every now and then, so I guess it's worth it. But now it's Monday, and the Big Whos are at school, and it's just me and the squirt (who, by the way, I predict will top 15 lbs at her 1-year checkup in a couple of weeks!). We're deep in the throes of list-making as we prepare to take the herd east to introduce the newest grandbaby to her Grandma Jane. Eight hours in the car with three active but confined-against-their-will children. Egad. But I'll obsess on that later. Right now, I have to find the damn cat ears that I just had the other day. Who I insists she'll be a cat for Halloween for the second year in a row. I have everything but the ears -- and an earless cat is the stuff Halloween nightmares are made of.

Hallmark moment

Tonight, I asked the big girls, "So, what do you think about this whole baby sister thing now that she's been home awhile?"

Who II, who has had the hardest adjustment, replied, "I like her!"

Who I, naturally, snorted like a pig and hauled the baby around like a sack of potatoes. But we KNOW she's in love with Baby Who.

Baby Who, meanwhile, once again defied all logic and managed to avoid the afternoon nap so she could party with the big Whos. Egad. I did catch her once, sprawled in the beanbag chair as she searched for her second wind.

Awwww.

Birthdays

Today was the Birthday Bonanza at our house. With just three days between the big girls' 4th birthdays, we combined them for one bash that kicked our butts. But the big girls -- and even Baby Who, who partied like it was 1999 -- seemed to have a good time.

We started the day with a frenzied cleaning of the house, a mad dash to pick up the cake and pizza and a strong push for naps. "You have to nap if you want to see your friends and have the party." Yeah, it was blackmail. But it worked.

Then it was off to the nearby bowling alley, where we met their best friends -- Thing One and Thing Two and their Mama Thing -- for a rousing round of duckpin bowling.

Now, I LIKE bowling. Used to go with my folks and my grandparents, and while I was never great at it, I enjoyed it. I found it especially therapeutic when in the throes of a bad relationship: just put a face on those pins and steeeee-rike!

I'm also a bit competitive. So imagine my dismay when my well-ordered plan for which girl went first dissolved into chaos as different girls would bowl each half of the same frame, go out of order, etc. Mama Thing just rolled her eyes as I realized that in the world of 4-year-olds, the only order is "ME FIRST!"

No records were set, but no toes were crushed by the shotput-sized ball, either. All had a good time. Then it was back to the house for pizza and cake and the mayhem that is having two girls opening presents at once.

It's now 9 p.m. and Baby Who -- who refused an afternoon nap because she, too, got caught up in the hype -- has crashed at last. The Big Whos are still going strong, fueled by sugar and the joy that is being 4. Mr. Fixit and I are dragging -- and cringing at the realization we get to do this all again in less than a month, when Baby Who turns 1.

And then comes Christmas!

More wine, please!

Casting a spell

We've always thought our big girls were brilliant, and Baby Who shows much promise as well -- she loves the remote control, the power button on the computer, and is fascinated by everything she sees (except a diaper at changing time, when she becomes Octopus Baby and wriggles away).

But proof of the big girls' brain power came recently when Who I decided she wanted to "spell daddy's shirt."

I'd brought home the T-shirt as a souvenir from a weeklong work trip to Utah. The T-shirt celebrates a popular beverage and cultural elements of the Beehive State.

Who I got off to a great start: "P-O-L-Y-G-A-M-Y P-O-R-T-E-R," she spelled proudly, never missing a letter. "What's that say, daddy?"

"Polygamy Porter," we told her. Now, why do I think we're soon going to have to explain what polygamy means -- and that, please please please, it's not for her?

Who II was not to be outdone. But instead of reading daddy's shirt, she decided to read mommy a story. Out came "The Cat in the Hat," her favorite book to read with grandpa.

Page by page, she captured the story line beautifully -- right down to the dialogue of "Sit, sit, sit!" Grandpa would have been proud.

Our big girls are getting bigger -- they turn 4 on Saturday and Tuesday. It's hard to believe. Soon they'll be asking for the keys to the car and staying out past my bedtime (which is getting earlier and earlier with three kiddos!).

Happy almost birthday, big girls -- and watch out for Baby Who. She's sneaking up on you!

The not-so-great pumpkin

Daycare was closed today, supposedly because Christopher Columbus decided to sail the ocean blue in 1492, so here I was, three Whos in hand, once again. Snot was flowing freely, but sanity was teetering on the brink. What's a mom to do? Go to the pumpkin patch, of course!

So I loaded up the Who van and we trekked up the road to meet Thing One and Thing Two and their Mama Thing. Up in the hay wagon we went (it was 90 degrees in October -- what's THAT all about?). Out to the pumpkin patch we lurched, only to have Baby Who promptly decide that she was hot and hungry and highly annoyed by this quest for the great gourd.

We made fairly quick work of finding little pumpkins for the little pumpkins. Then back in the wagon we went for our happy trot back to Whoville.

No Whos fell out of the wagon. Who I did at one point decide she couldn't get out of the pumpkin patch by herself. so Who II went back in and got her (a rousing RAH RAH for big sister, who recovered nicely from her earlier episode of biting Who I's thumb because Who I wouldn't cede the hand sanitizer to her). All in all, a success. Baby steps, yes. And yes, the Mama Thing took my big girls to the port-o-potty because I had Baby Who strapped to me like a hot, sweaty grenade. But darn it all, we had our first outing without two parents to herd the brood. And we all returned alive.

Naturally, I came home and celebrated with a wee glass o' wine.

Other highlights: Baby Who discovered the baby piano. Jerry Lee Lewis, eat your heart out. She also discovered the Asian baby doll that's Just The Right Size. Who is this creature, she seemed to be wondering. (Hey, it doesn't pee, poop or urp -- it's my fourth child!). Oh, and I heard myself yell at the Big Whos, "Put the magic wand down NOW and no one will get hurt!" A fine moment indeed. (OK, I'm still rough around the edges here.)

Happily, all the tots are snoozing now. The snot has flowed to a trickle. Tomorrow is a school day for the big 'uns. And I have clean laundry -- a shirt with no snot/drool/dribble/urp on it is quite the luxury, no matter how ratty the fabric.

Ah, life. It's good, no?

Go Baby

Maybe it's because I'm older, or because I'm already chasing two nearly 4-year-olds. But Baby Who seems to have an unusually high level of energy -- puts that pink bunny in the battery commercials to shame.

She has two speeds -- warp and stop. She'll go full-tilt until she is exhausted, then crash to recharge. Then she's up and on the move again. Ack!

She came home in amazing shape -- crawling up a storm, pulling herself up on the furniture and scooting along, nearly ready to walk. She wants to crawl up the stairs constantly. She's managed to remove nearly half of our door stoppers (she has some intense dislike for them, I think).

In a nutshell, she's BUSY.

I'm thinking I need more caffeine.

But I do have a proud badge of honor -- yesterday I kept the big girls home because they were under the weather, so I flew solo with all three for the first time. I have to confess, it scared the bejeepers out of me at first. I so admire at-home moms with multiple children who just make it seem so effortless. I can tell you, for me it was NOT effortless. (Though I did manage to bathe before DH left for work.)

But everyone was fed and changed, and only I seemed the worse for wear. Who II even spent some time playing with Baby Who one-on-one, which was beautiful to see. I think they're growing on each other.

Last night, the pups were all tuckered out. Who I decided she wanted to sleep in baby sister's room, so we let her. She was thrilled!

Today, it's just me and the squirt. I'm off to the laundry wars (how can one tiny
baby generate so much more laundry?) and then to copy all our paperwork so we can register her adoption, since I traveled without DH. I'm sure she'll be a BIG helper for that (Kinko's, watch out!).