Ella is now focusing, smiling, and actively checking out the planet she’s been dropped into. And she does the tongue thing Janae used to. Here’s 37 seconds of cute baby for what ails you. Feel free to drop back by if life is ever out of perspective…
Jon
Jul 21
|21:34
Simple math, I know. But it’s the math we do these days…
I am often asked how different life is with four girls. Mostly I try for a witty comeback like “well, four is more than three.” To make amends for my snarkiness, I present these actual thoughts on the subject:
It’s not that big of a change around the house, provided we remember to keep the newborn out of the reach of Maya, the Long-Armed Toddler of Doom. She’s obsessed with the kid. Likes to crawl into the car seat with her and has added a fifth word to her vocabulary: Ella (she actually says “Erra”. I think she may be Chinese. Time will tell).
ONE
Going out is a bit more complicated. The diaper bag is burgeoning with two sizes of diapers and costume changes. There’s a lot of junk in the trunk (mostly two large all-terrain strollers – the kind they used on the Apollo moon landing I think). And Ella likes to toss her pacifier and screech like a wounded Predator about two minutes into any trip. This is like nails on a chalkboard to the twins. Something about a crying baby evokes a visceral response and overwhelming urge to nurture in the female types (“Mommy, can you help Ella to stop crying?”). Well, not Maya so much. She’s happy as a clam in the car, as long as we’re talking about the three minutes in every trip that Janae is not poking her or stealing her book. During the rest of the trip, we have two screechers. I am thankful for the Mickey Mouse portable DVD player strapped to the back of my headrest. I’m starting to really enjoy the Little Einsteins. Proof that my descent into madness has begun.
TWO
Vehicle options are narrowing rapidly. My Chevy Malibu, even fully crammed, can hold only 5/6 of the brood. The minivan is our only option for comprehensive troop transport. I’ve been looking at other possibilities, but I’m pretty much limited to a Humvee or one of those airport shuttle vans. Or a Dodge Sprinter (which is basically an airport shuttle van). This, of course, means I’m sticking with cheap American-made minivans. I have four college educations and four weddings to save up for, people.
THREE
We are noticing that the world seems to be unfairly prejudiced in favor of groups of four people. Vehicles, booths at restaurants, Family Packs of tickets to the Mariners, the list goes on. Go ahead – ask for a table for six with two high chairs at your favorite restaurant and see just how long it takes the host to work out THAT algebra. You could fly to Alaska, stalk, kill, dress, and cook your own moose in the time you’ll have on your hands in the lobby, desperately praying for the “your huge table is ready” pager to light up while attempting to keep the toddler from burning the place down. This is an ever so slight exaggeration, but this subtle discrimination (which I have dubbed “Fourism”) must be confronted and eradicated from our society. I’ll start the petition…
FOUR
Our home is teeming with life. Loud, messy, exuberant, joyful, tearful, beautiful, wonderful, precious life. We have gone from the desert of barrenness to overwhelming fruitfulness. God has transformed our home into living proof that He still hears, still answers, and still does miracles. We were very sure of this when we had only three girls. But He has left no doubt 
.
My gift to you for reading to the end? The first official pic of all four together. Enjoy!
Jon
Jun 23
|17:38
I was thinking today about how relatively simple most of the problems we solve for the girls are. Sure, there’s four of them, and that can be a bit overwhelming sometimes, especially if they all need something at once or the schedule gets even slightly out of whack. But our biggest issues are spills and boo-boos and forgetting to go potty. Having worked with teenagers for a decade or so, I have a slight inkling of what’s to come – hurt feelings, broken hearts, relationships, cliques, drama, drama, drama, and so forth. Note that I did not say I know everything that’s coming. I am quite sure I have no clue what a tunnel of fire four girls in high school at the same time – all under one roof, all with strong personalities – will be like. I shudder to think. So while today’s trials have their own weight, it’s important to keep perspective and enjoy these days when they are willing to be seen in public with Daddy and believe that he is strong and can fix anything. And to enjoy problems that can be solved with a little patience, strong disinfectant, and the handyman’s helper.
For example: today I had to be reminded that some toddlers need their diapers duct-taped at nap time.
Most parents reading that sentence will chuckle. Most of us have been there. I have been there. So really I have no excuses and deserve no sympathy. I should have seen the tell-tale signs: Maya was increasingly more undressed every time we got her out of bed. Yesterday morning, she greeted me in only a diaper, holding her onesie aloft triumphantly, flashing a big cheesy grin as if to say “Mission Accomplished!” Cute, right? Maybe that’s why I didn’t hear the 50s sci-fi robot in my subconscious trying to warn me: “Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!” But I was to distracted by her adorableness to see the logical conclusion of this pattern of behavior. Only too late did I recall that Arnold Girls love a challenge, and for Maya there was only one more disrobing mountain to climb.
Only the diaper was left.
You already know what happened. I will spare you the gory details. Let’s just say that she succeeded in getting the diaper off before she went to sleep. Sometime during that nap nature took it’s course. And apparently nature was angry. And Maya awoke. She is an artist at heart, it would seem, and something deep within led her to express her creativity with a display of finger-painting that has led me to nickname her “Poopcaso.”
A shower, and couple loads of laundry, a lot of disinfectant, one toy taken apart, and several rounds of Mom’s special stuffed animal cleansing method later, and we are almost back to normal. As I scrubbed and disassembled, a wave of deja vu swept over me, followed immediately by chagrin: I suddenly remembered I have done this dance before. With the twins. Both of them. We tried a lot of things to solve it. We finally had to go all “Red Green” on ‘em: they could not defeat duct tape.
So Maya now has improvised industrial strength diaper closures. If memory serves, the next step is climbing out of the crib. That should be a hoot with this one…
For now, I am thankful for small problems and a big family. And I’m taking some Ginko, cause I’ve really got to try to remember this stuff…Share on Facebook
Jon
Jun 19
|11:49
I have a new funding source for the girls’ college education -- college students. I’m looking around the house and realizing that I have an active, functioning Developmental Psychology lab right here under one roof.
When Stacey was in college, one of her assignments was to go to Bellevue Square, watch children playing in the play area and write down observations. This is, of course, an assignment destined for disaster, especially if the student is a male and they happen to record some of their observations on a camera phone. “It’s for a school project” is an explanation likely to get you tackled by burly mall security guards.
But why risk the indignity of being taken down by rent-a-cops? Come on over to Arnold-ville, where you can observe four siblings in their native habitat! You can see a living example of just about every stage in your text book, all with in the space of an hour or two. For extra credit, you can take ‘em to a playground or feed them a meal and get even more learnin’ on.
Case in point: Middle Child Syndrome / New Baby Anxiety. Maya is no longer the baby. She’s coping fairly well, but yesterday she was trying out all the baby items in the house -- swing, car seat, pacifier. I got it on video (sort of -- see below), but seeing it live is oh so much more informative.
Or we could hire a film crew. If the recent documentary “Babies” is any indication, people love to sit in theaters and watch babies for two hours at eleven bucks a pop. Sure babies are cute, but they don’t really do that much. Add two preschoolers and a toddler -- now that’s entertainment! Of course, this sort of veers into the whole “Jon & Kate” / “Balloon Boy” opportunism, so maybe we should pull it back a bit, even though in the American psyche nothing says ‘I love my kids” more than a little exploitation (That was sarcasm, people. Cutting edge social commentary smothered in tasty ironic nougat).
Until the UW calls to set up their extension campus here, I will continue to document the developments for science and posterity. Think of me as your Dev. Psych. Jane Goodall, and this blog as “Toddlers in the Mist.” The mist, in this case, is the spray from the kitchen sink faucet one of them has gotten a hold of. Yipe! Gotta go!
Jon
Jun 16
|15:30
What kind of car seats more than five? The obvious answer (in my price range, anyway) is a minivan, which we have. It is simultaneously the most emasculating and the most convenient vehicle I have ever owned. There is nothing cool about driving a minivan, no matter how pimped out, no matter what John Travolta’s character said in “Get Shorty” (saying “it’s the Cadillac of minivans” is like saying “it’s the Mercedes of Gremlins” – not an apples to apples comparison). Our minivan can, however, comfortably seat 7, and its seats can be folded into the floor to make it a cargo van. Or you can leave the seats up and use the under-seat storage as a smuggler’s hold, a la the Millennium Falcon.
Which brings me to the geometry problem. As you can see in the photo above, we have gone ahead with my ingenious plan to place the three older kids in the back seat. By so doing, we could keep one seat folded into the floor, providing ample space to crawl in and strap the nippers down as well as much needed cargo room for the weekly “half my paycheck” trips to Costco for pallets of milk, cereal, waffles, and diapers.
Today we tried it out on our first car ride as a family of six. It worked out splendiferously – the two boosters and Maya’s car seat can be crammed into that tiny bench – no room to spare, but it works. One caveat – the receiver end of the seat belts are now 4 inches into the tiny crevasse between car seats. Technically possible to reach, but you can get only one hand in there, and clicking in a seat belt is, oddly enough, difficult with one hand.
Not one to be foiled by something as simple as vehicle design, I have scoured the series of tubes we call the Internets for a solution (thank you, Mr. Gore, for your wonderful invention). I have found one, but I have mixed feelings about the depths to which I have sunk…
I now have a charge on my credit card from an online store called “More of Me To Love.”
Apparently these sorts of devices are not generally aimed at the car seat crowd. But I found exactly what I needed – an 8″ rigid seat belt extender that should put the receiver at exactly the right level – maybe high enough for the girls to buckle themselves. THAT would be a massive step forward!Share on Facebook