Today I saw Charlie wind up to hit his sister and I stopped him. He yelled, "UGHHH! Stella is not following my commandments!"
Also, Stella has always called Charlie "Guy." She can say his name now, but prefers to stick with "Guy" and she's added a nickname that she made up all on her own. It is so funny when she calls him "Guy-Guy." Our little sassy pants is pretty clever.
I talk to so many people, or read about so many other children who just adore their siblings and love to play together. Their moms go on and on about how the older siblings are so gentle and the younger siblings look up to and can't get enough of the older ones. I've always wondered why ours aren't like that and what I should have done differently. The thing is, they just came the way they came. And they are perfect for each other. Either one would destroy a more gentle sibling, but my goodness they know how to hold their own with each other. I thought I was going to lose it today. They are constantly tormenting each other. They poke and push and kick. They tease each other and tattle and cry. Seriously.
Today I was watching them as they ate lunch and watched a movie. With their eyes fixed on the screen, they were poking each other and pushing. They weren't even looking at each other, but couldn't stop! Yikes. I think that's why I love it so much when they take care of each other and play together. I never never never interrupt when they are playing because the moments of bliss are short lived around these parts. Honestly, the worst part is that it's mostly hilarious to observe them trying to get a rise out of the other-after all, they are pretty young. I have to try to hide my amusement while breaking them up.
The kids got the flu mist last week. Stella had a bad reaction to it. She always seems to react to these types of things. She ended up with a high fever and horribly sore throat for the next five days. We even went to the doctor and confirmed that she's just the statistic that gets sick because of that darn vaccine. Better than the flue though, I guess! Last time she got vaccines, she had hives for three weeks.
I've been doing a lot of canning. I don't know what it is about it that is so satisfying, aside from the fact that canned fruit is much yummier than store-bought (and sugar free), it just makes me feel so domestic. I've done peaches, pears, pickles and applesauce, and frozen lots of corn, squash, salsa, pesto, spaghetti sauce and enchilada sauce. I have loved doing it, but I'm quite relieved to have the produce gone now. I always feel pressure (only from myself, of course) to do more and to hurry hurry hurry to get more canned or frozen or cooked so that nothing goes bad. Did I internalize grandma's "waste not want not" mantra or what? I feel like a little squirrel rushing around collecting nuts. It might be time to increase the dosage on the old zoloft. As I type this, I'm realizing how ocd I sound.
We're working on starting a chore/morning routine around this place. Not that I don't love the current one of eating breakfast in bed and watching movies for the first hour we're up, but it sure feels good to be up and at 'em and doing yoga for kids instead of lounging. Also, it is fabulous to see Charlie in warrior 2 pose, or a downward facing dog. And Stella doing head stands.
We've also added a Book of Mormon story to the routine. I never really recognized how much violence there is in the Book of Mormon until I read it with a four year old boy. He is enthralled, naturally, and focuses almost entirely on identifying the bad guy and speculating about his demise. There is a picture near the beginning of the illustrated stories of a dead deer. The sentence under it mentions how the people liked to hunt and were gruesome. The first thing Charlie does when we pull out the book is look for the page where they "take down the deer." He also asks, every other line, if they are going to "get rid of that guy."
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