So I started my work. I didn’t feel like putting up the fight of making the children do it themselves (although I know I should have). Instead, I banished them to the backyard while I worked. Every once in a while they would come in “to get something” and I would bark in my most grumpy-I-mean-it way: Stay outside or you’re going to have to clean! or You better not be making a mess upstairs or else!  or Do not come inside, you have to play outside!

After having barked adequately at each child that they actually believed me and had stayed away awhile, I was just finishing up Olivia’s room (the last of my cleaning for the afternoon) when I picked up her bed canopy (which had fallen down last week). Underneath I found a red kitchen towel, folded neatly. I unfolded that to put away what ever she was hiding.

Inside I found an Easter cake – a precious remnant of last week’s treats. They had been gone for days, so I thought. The first thing that came to my mind was “She’s hiding treats, the little turkey!”

And then, beneath that I found a coloring book. Olivia has been making coloring books for a while now – each one stapled together with little illustrations on each page.

And then I read the cover -

“All about me – Olivia. For Mom, Happy Easter” (Or something to that effect, I’ll requote this on Sunday).

Then I read the coloring book (I probably shouldn’t have, but I was instantly charmed and couldn’t put it down.)

The book told all sorts of interesting things about Olivia, complete with darling illustrations.

And then, beneath the coloring book, a card for me, telling me I was the best mom.

And then – there I sat, on the floor of Olivia’s room, my kids, scolded to trepidation to stay outside, and me, with a home made gift Olivia had concocted on her own, days before the holiday, wrapped and securely hidden away for its grand presentation on Easter morning.

And in that moment I felt at once both two inches tall and like a superhero all at the same time.

And it reminded me (again) – (and again) – that having the house clean is not nearly as important as having lovey happy children.

So I went right upstairs, and packed the lovies up, and off we went to IFA to get the seeds I had promised the kids I would get them so they could plant their own garden this weekend.

I sure can’t wait for Easter!

*I’ll update this post in a few days with pictures of the dear little book.

“No I didn’t. It’s more of a statement than a question.”

On Monday they spent the afternoon preparing our valentines – signing their names, over and over and over again, each one for a different friend.

For Family Home Evening we made sugar cookies, and decorated them with pink frosting. Each love frosted their own. Everett had patience for only one shmear and set about eating his. Olivia made sure the frosting covered all the cookie real estate in neat even strokes. And Calvin spread his thick, thick and globby.

The next morning, with Olivia at her kindergarten party, valentines autographed from the day before, a special treat for her teacher to boot, and Cal and eJo happy to play with Ila who came to visit, we set about making more cookies. Because who doesn’t need more cookies?

Chocolate chip to be exact, Wyatt’s favorite.

Later, Olivia, Calvin, Everett (and Ila) went to a neighborhood valentines party. More signed goodies, more treats coming home! During the break I took Wyatt a little gift of home made cookies. We promised no valentines – but home made definitely does not count. (And then he broke the treaty and brought me home tulips. Two Lips – it makes me smile).

And then the little loves finished their party, and home we went for a sugar crash. Daddy came home early to play, and with a little dinner in our tummies, we set out to give valentines to all the friends in the neighborhood we had missed.

And when it came bed time the kids went to sleep without a peep, happy and high on sugar, exhausted on activity.

That was Valentines Day 2012.

click for larger version

A fun little illustration while Wyatt and I watched tv the other night. (He watched, I doodled).

Gabe, Kennedy, Kira, Allison, and Emma came.

We played a rousing game of pin-the-tail-on-the-unicorn.

We made dirt and worms.

We painted sun catchers.

And ate cake and ice cream.

Happy Birthday Olivia. Number six is a special one.

Because, well, you know.

It’s birthday time for you . . .

Today was baby Sunshine’s big birthday. Olivia was so excited for her big day. She’d been counting down all week. The other day she told me she was a little scared to be six. But this morning she brilliantly observed that it turned out being six wasn’t too bad – it felt pretty much the same as being five.

For breakfast we had pancakes, a special treat from our usual waffle fare, with chocolate chips and whipped cream made into smiley faces. We relaxed and spent the day playing. This afternoon I took O for a special treat at the Sweet Tooth Fairy and then off to choose her own ice cream, something she’s been looking forward to since Calvin’s birthday.

Then home for a dinner of her very own choice – Macaroni and Cheese! Cake and ice cream and gifts and then off to the movies to see Cars 2.

Wyatt takes O and Cal to movies on a fairly regular basis – at least once every couple months. But I have not been to the movies with the kids since before Everett was born.  They were enchanted, and the spell held through the entire movie for Olivia. Calvin and Everett each lost attention at some point though, so I spent part of the movie walking up and down the aisle and chasing kids out by the refreshment stands. It was worth it though for the first vision of my little lovelies sitting on the booster seats when we first arrived, their faces lit up by the glow of the screen, their eyes big as saucers as they watched the beginning of the movie!

After the movies it was home again and off to bed, baby ducks. Of course, as we were driving out of the neighborhood, on our way to the movie, Olivia was talking about her next birthday party – you know, the friend birthday party. Wyatt and I giggled – mostly – about the expectation we have established with our kids: immediate family celebration, extended family celebration, neighborhood celebration, friend celebration, at our house, birthdays last a long time. And Olivia is ready to soak up every ounce of the attention.

The Principal awarding Olivia her pin and certificate at a school assembly.

Dear College of My Choice
Not too far from home
Because if it is, my mom will rent an apartment right next to me
Just so I won’t miss her too much

You have a lot of awards that are given every year at your university. You need students to win those awards. This is where I come in. I will win all your awards. I have been doing it since kingergarten.

That’s right. I earned THE FIRST award ever possible in my academic career – the first award given in the first year of my formal education. And it’s because I am awesome.

And respectful. The award was a school award for a student who exemplifies respect. It came with a school pin and a certificate. Of course, I expect your awards come with scholarships and living stipends.

I am sure your university is a great place, but imagine if you can, how much more fabulous it will be if I am there.

Sincerely, your future rock star student,

Olivia Claire Christensen

PS – check out my ACT and GPA. It will floor you!

Calvin: Mommy, it takes a long time for you tummy to get small. As long as it takes for a new baby to get here.

Me: You’re right. But my tummy is already a little smaller right? (I mean, didn’t he notice?!)

Calvin: Yeah, (then, pointing directly at my chest) but those aren’t smaller!

Conversation between Olivia and an older couple admiring baby Andrew and baby Mason:

Old man: Those are sure cute babies. Where can my wife get one of those?

Olivia, matter-of-factly and nonchalantly: At the tummy store.

Calvin and Alexa after primary:

Calvin: Alexa, we learned about sharing in primary today. It’s important to share.

Alexa: Really? (Alexa’s mom is Cal’s teacher, and she knew that the lesson was on friends, not sharing.)

Calvin: Yeah. So you should share your candy bar with me. It’s good to share.

(All I can say to this story is: Is that Wyatt’s kid or what?!)

Calvin seems to have (FINALLY) moved out of the stage where he needs constant supervision. He seems to know the rules, and doesn’t destroy everything in his path (very often). But just as he’s moved out of that stage, Everett is moving right on in.

Last week I was upstairs feeding the baby, while everyone else was downstairs. When I came out, I heard water on. I went into my bathroom to find the water on, the sink clogged and water spilling over the sides, down the cabinet and onto the floor.

I went downstairs to find Wyatt and found that it was raining in my downstair bathroom (directly below the upstairs one).

Last Saturday night Wyatt and I went downstairs after the kids were “in bed.” When we came upstairs we found a trail of Fruit Loops down the hall, culminating in an entire spilled box in front of my bedroom door.

The next morning I was half asleep, but heard Calvin and Everett get up. Remembering what happened the night before, I got up, and went and tied up the cupboards and fridge, before returning to bed to sleep in.

Later Wyatt got up and got the kids breakfast – cereal and milk. But he forgot to tie up the fridge when he was done.

Later he found Everett, covered head to toe in sour cream, an entire block of cheese in his room, and an entire box of margarine (that I had just bought the night before for Dutch Oven Brownies that we were supposed to have later that day) in various clumps around the house.

Well, lovely Wyatt cleaned the boy and mess up, but he forgot, again to tie up the fridge. Later, just as it was time to get ready for church, I came around the corner to find eJo happily cracking the last of a dozen eggs on my kitchen floor.

Good times.

At sacrament today

Olivia: I bet that man is older than grand-crad.

Me: You think so? Grand-crad is pretty old.

Olivia: Like how old is he? A hundred?

Me: No, but great-grandma Christensen is a hundred and one.

Olivia: A hundred and one! I bet that’s even older than you.

Me: I’m not that old. I’m actually pretty young.

Olivia: How old are you?

Me: Thirty-one.

Olivia, with eyes big: Wow! That’s so old!