These are a few . . .

16 02 2008

. . . of Colby’s favorite things.

Those sproingy doorstops

Scattering the fridge magnets

Emptying the dishwasher

“Must continue in spite of . . .”

” . . . suffocating hug.”

(These next three are self-portraits; that’s why they’re so whonky.)

Taking Mom’s glasses off

Putting Mom’s glasses on

Giving Mom slobbery kisses

And Colby’s favorite thing to do:

Tickle the ivories

Liberace–look out!

Clock Box

16 02 2008

I got a big clock for Valentine’s Day from Stan. I wanted to take some photos of each of the kids in the box, but I haven’t been able to get Zack to participate. I’ll try later. Rainbow, obviously, had no trouble posing in the box.


16 02 2008

Lately, my kids have been on each other.

Maybe it’s the rain. Maybe it’s their ages. Maybe it’s inherent in the idea of siblings. Whatever it is, they certainly have a lot of it. The most peaceful time (aside from the middle of the night) is when Zack and Eden are at school, Colby is taking his afternoon nap, and Rainbow is having her turn on the computer. Every other minute someone is bothering someone else in some way.

It’s the whole she’s-touching-my-blanket-he’s-copying-me-she-ate-my-cheese-balls!-he-broke-my-necklace-he’s-using-my-cup-his-foot-is-over-the-line reinvented from my youth. Mom and Dad, I’m sorry I didn’t realize the constant bickering was so annoying back when I was a kid. But at least you can feel good because I turned out so well. (And, yes, feel free to laugh now that “She’s getting hers!” Just be finished by the time I call you for advice.)

Rainbow seems especially sensitive to the pick-pick-picking that goes on. Of course, it could just be that she’s four, and automatically in tears or ecstacy simply due to age. The other day she let out a particularly loud bloodcurdling scream. When I ran to the rescue, expecting severed limbs at the very least, she was crouched behind the chair with her hands over her face, Eden smugly looking on.

“What’s the matter? What happened, honey?” Here I turn to Eden. “What did you DO?!”

Eden shrugs. “Nothing.”

Rainbow, still shuddering sobbingly, demonstrates. “She went like this.” Rainbow makes claws of her hands and scratches the air diabolically.

“She didn’t touch you?” I say, my heartrate finally slowing.

More sniffing from Rainbow. “No.”

Patiently (the kind of patience that thinly veils impatience), I say, “If she didn’t actually touch you, then she can’t actually hurt you, right, honey?”

Rainbow peers up at me from cowering on the floor, eyes still swimming in tears, and says, “It just breakded my heart.”


Unfortunately, it came close to stopping mine.