We had our Pacifier Party! It was wonderful. We had cupcakes and balloons at school with our friends (which was nice because Emmett could take part in it, even if he has no pacifier to give up), then we marched down the hall to the infant room and we gave our pacifiers to the babies. It was perfect. We were so proud. Right up until we reached the top of the stairs on our way to our room for nap that day. At that point, you would have thought that the world was ending.

We screamed, we threw toys against the wall and against the door, we hit each other, and we did not care that Mom was trying to be patient and understanding. We wanted our pacifiers.

Fast forward one week: We are no longer asking for our pacifiers, but we still are not napping. It is as if recognizing that we could live without pacifiers made us believe that we could live without Bunny and without Lamby too. (Mom and Dad take away privileges when we are bad, and it is a privilege to have a snuggly Bunny or Lamby and blanket when we nap.) If we just sat in our beds quietly during naptime, but didn’t nap, it would be okay. But we don’t do that. We jump off of our beds. We climb up on the cubbies and jump off of them. We pull the coat hooks out of the wall. We empty the dresser. We get into the booty wipes and we de-stuff the box. It’s mayhem.

So yesterday, we lost all of our privileges. We lost all our stuffed animals, our blankets, our favorites toys, and our freedom. We were confined to our room yesterday afternoon and we weren’t allowed to go to swim lessons. Sound harsh? We didn’t care. We made up a new game called Owe-y Boo-Boo. It involves one person leaning up against the wall, and the other grabbing that person and throwing him or her to the floor. It was great fun.

We are so exhausted that Tessa almost fell asleep at recess yesterday. Her teacher was wondering if she was getting enough sleep at home. The flip side of that is that Tessa has been so tired that she is no longer trying to push her friends around the playground, which may or may not have been something that she picked up from her older brothers.

So where does that leave us today? Well, we aren’t really sure. Last night wasn’t great. Turns out it is not so comfortable sleeping in a bed with no pillow or stuffies. Just one, prison-issued blanket. We cried for a bit and asked for more of our stuff. To no avail. But this morning we declared that we are going to be nice! We want our toys and our stuffed animals and popcorn! Popcorn? Yeah, we aren’t sure where that came from either, as we have only had it once or twice in our lives, but we asked for it.

And Mom said that if we are nice we can have it. Only problem is that our memories are short these days when it comes to privileges and long when it comes to demands.

Stay tuned,
The Littlest Pigs

We were driving around last week, trying to find a new house, when Riley began to shout something from the backseat.

“Pharaoh! Let us go Pharoah! It’s not nice!” he said.

“Pharaoh isn’t nice,” Tessa said.

“Pharaoh is mean to Moses,” Riley said.

“Mean,” Emmett said.

We studied Passover at school and we brought all of our new found knowledge home. Riley saw a picture of a basket in a book and he told Mom that Moses was in the basket. Tessa talked about how she played with lice at school. (In actuality, we were learning about the plagues and Tessa made a picture with black glitter, which was supposed to be lice. So, just so we are clear, no real lice.) Emmett got to part the waters of the Red Sea, and he really enjoyed doing it.

We’ve been looking for a new house for a while now. We don’t have enough rooms in the house as it is (reference the Thunderdome incidents) and when our new little sister comes home, if we have to further double up on rooms, Mom and Dad’s tenuous grip on sanity might permanently be lost. I’m not joking when I say that we’ve driven 100’s of miles looking for a new home.

Anyway, when we were out in an area where homes were currently being built, Riley decided he had to pee. Dad spotted a Port-a-Potty and he ducked in there with Riley. It happened to be blue, which is Riley’s favorite color. When Riley was done, Emmett decided he had to go. And when Emmett was done, Tessa tried to take her diaper off and say she needed to go too. A good time was had by all. Except for Dad who experienced an anxiety attack trying to get both boys to pee without actually touching anything inside the potty.

Later in the week, while driving around a different neighborhood, Riley saw another Port-a-Potty and said that he had to pee and he preferred to go in the blue potty.

“It’s a good potty. It’s blue. I like it,” Riley said.

We all knew that it would happen. That the day would come when the Lamby or one of the bunnies couldn’t be found. Of course, this would happen when Mom and Dad had a babysitter for the evening, and they would spend more than an hour of quality babysitting time trying to locate Lamby. And, of course, this would happen during the week that the wood floors were being refinished, when everything was where it wasn’t supposed to be to begin with.

After an hour of looking, Mom and Dad had lost the dinner reservations, and they decided to go to the store to try to locate a new Lamby. They knew that this was a long shot, and, sure enough, there was no match at the store. Mom and Dad did the next best thing, they bought two very soft, very cuddly Lamby-like sungglies in order to offer to Tessa in hopes that she would be mollified. After getting some take out, they came home.

All asleep, the sitter reported. No one, not even Tessa, was upset when they went to bed. Hmmmm, thought Mom and Dad. Maybe this isn’t as bad as we thought that it would be. As soon, and we mean AS SOON, as the sitter left through the front door, Tessa woke up crying for Lamby. Dad went up to her room and offered her the Lamby replacements.

“Tessa needs Lamby,” Riley said. “She wants Lamby, like Riley has Bunny.”

“How about this great Dinosaur, Tessa? Or this Monkey?” Dad asked.

“No,” Tessa cried. “I need Lamby.”

At that point, Dad exited the room Mom came in and tried again, offering Tessa the Lamby-like snugglies.

“Tessa needs Lamby,” Tessa said, repeating Riley’s refrain.

“But the dinosaur is soft like Lamby.”

“No!”

“It’s blue and green and white…”

“No!” cried Tessa.

“Blue?” asked Riley.

“How about this Monkey?” Mom asked. “Look, it is so soft.” Mom rubbed the Monkey on Tessa’s cheek to demonstrate. Tessa seemed to be deciding if perhaps the Monkey was a good replacement. But that lasted for just a moment, then she said, “Lamby!”

“Look, T,” Mom said. “If I take the tag off, it will be even softer.”

Snap! went the plastic connecting the tag to the stuffed animal.

“I found it!” Dad yelled from down the hall. He came into the room, brandishing the snuggly in question.

“Where was it?” Mom asked.

“It was stuffed all the way down in between the cushions on our couch.”

“Lamby!” Tessa said. She was so happy. She tucked Lamby under her arm and smiled sweetly.

After hugs and kisses, Mom and Dad were ready to put us to bed for the night.

“Mom?” Riley said. “I need the blue Dino-Lamby.”

“What?”

“I need the Dino-Lamby. Please.”

And then Tessa chimed in, “Monkey, please?”

So, now, instead of locating a replacement for the once-lost Lamby, each Tessa and Riley have acquired additional snugglies. Mom and Dad thought that maybe these new additions would lose their luster after a bit. But, no. Tessa and Riley have developed deep, abiding affection for their new animals. Instead of just needing a Lamby or a Bunny to go to bed, they both need a second snuggly, which, of course, ups the odds that all of this will happen again.

When Tessa was upset the other day, Mom picked her up, snuggled her and asked, “Is it bad, Tessa? Because it seems bad.”
“Yeah,” Tessa said. “It’s bad.”
“What’s up?” Mom asked. When Tessa said nothing, Mom continued, “You having some issues?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Tessa has issues.”
“What kind of issues?” Mom asked.
“Tessa has issues downstairs,” she said.
“Oh, no,” Mom said. “What’s downstairs?”
“Tessa has bad issues downstairs,” Tessa said, nodding.
Riley, who had been sitting near Mom and Tessa chimed in.
“Mom,” Riley said. “I’d like to talk about my issues.”
“What issues are those, Riley?”
“I need to talk about my pacifier and my bunny.”
“Indeed,” Mom said. “What’s going on with your pacifier and your bunny.”
“Paci and bunny have issues,” Riley said soberly. “Riley’s bunny has issues.”
“What kind of issues does bunny have?”
“Bunny has issues when Riley and Tessa don’t sleep at nap. Daddy gets mad and takes away our books. He tells us to go to sleep.”
“That’s true,” Mom said. “It is important that Riley and Tessa are quiet and sleep at nap and at nighttime. You can stay in your bed and read books if you are awake. But you cannot jump and run and play. It is quiet time.”
“Yeah, and Riley needs to give up his paci and bunny,” Riley said.
“No, Riley,” Mom said. “You are only going to have to give up your pacifier. You can keep bunny.”
“Yeah, I need to give paci to the babies,” Riley said.
“That’s right. You are a big boy, and Tessa is a big girl. Babies need pacifiers, not big kids. It’s time to give your pacifiers to the babies that need them.”
Riley nodded. Tessa shook her head.
“When do you think you might be ready to give your pacifiers to the babies?” Mom asked Riley.
“Ummm,” Riley thought about this. “We can have a paci party at school and then Riley can give the paci to the babies.”
“That’s a good idea, Riley,” Mom said. “What you do want to have at your paci party?”
“Cupcakes!” Riley said.
“And balloons,” Tessa said.
“Cupcakes and balloons sounds like a great party. When do you want to have the paci party?”
“We give paci and Tessa’s lamby to the babies,” Tessa said.
“No, just your paci,” Mom said. “Riley gets to keep his bunny and you get to keep your lamby.”
Riley and Tessa nodded.
“But remember: When you have a paci party you will be giving your paci away forever,” Mom said. “You won’t be able to get it back. The babies will have your paci.”
Riley and Tessa’s eyes grew round. Tessa gripped tightly the object in question.
“The babies will have my paci?” Riley asked.
“Yes.”
“But I can have it for nap and night-night?”
“No,” Mom said. “You won’t get it at all. The paci will be the babies paci.”
Riley said nothing.
“Do you want to have a paci party?” Mom asked.
Riley looked at Mom, shoved his paci into his mouth and said, “Not yet.”

T-Bone’s birthday party was Saturday, and we all came prepared to party. We talked Mom and Dad into balloons from the store earlier in the week (Puss and Boots for Riley and Emmett, and Wreck it Ralph for Tessa-though she had no idea what it was), Riley was fresh off an Urgent Care visit and still standing (more on that later), and, once again, the cupcakes were great.

Our party was a small one, just family. We all played with cousin Ellie, Tom and Doris, Grandma Betty, Grandma Cheryl, Pop-pop and Anne, and Aunt Ashley. Tessa received clothes, including a tutu that Emmett loves, and elephant books, which we all love. The cupcakes had jungle animals on them, and we each had two. That’s right. Mom and Dad said it was ok if we each had two cupcakes. That meant no dinner, as we were all full from so much cupcake. I’m sure you’ll agree that there were no anticipated repercussions from that decision. Anyway, a good time was had by all.

Riley regaled everyone, as soon as they walked into the house, with the story of his first (but probably not last) trip to see the doctor. We all have had well-child visits. But none of us has ever been to the doctor for so much as a sniffle. Riley changed all of that when he decided to see how sturdy his dresser was. He, quite literally, lowered his head and rammed the edge of a dresser. Obviously, the dresser, with a little more heft, was the last one standing. But, we guess, it was good that Riley is engaging in the scientific method at such an early age. Hypothesis tested, and hypothesis dismissed.

I think that we have to back up, though, to give you the full story of what happened that afternoon. Tessa has recently graduated from a crib to a toddler bed. She proved that she was old enough to make the switch when she continually bailed over the side of her crib, regardless of the repetitive head trauma. What the toddler bed means, though, is that Tessa and Riley were no longer separated by the bars of the crib during nap and sleep-time. (Which brings us to a relevant question: Does the crib keep Tessa in, or does it keep Riley out?)

You may recall when Emmett and Riley were allowed this access a little over a year ago, when they shared a room, that a Thunderdome-incident occurred and lives were changed forever. Mom and Dad were hoping never to see those events repeated, and they decided to lay down the law right from the get go. Tessa’s new toddler bed is a play tent over a bed, and Riley recently got a new Lightning McQueen race car bed. We were told that if we got out of our beds during nap, everything would be removed from the room, including our new beds. Mom and Dad thought that this would be enough incentive to keep us honest. But, again, Riley had a hypothesis: Mom and Dad won’t follow through with the threat.

This is how that hypothesis was tested: At nap time, we didn’t nap. We jumped on Tessa’s tent and we broke it. We dug into the closet and found some new, unopened wipe containers and we de-stuffed two of them. We tore up a few of our books. It was a bad scene. Consequently, everything was removed from our room except for mattresses and sheets. Hypothesis tested, and hypothesis dismissed. But what Tessa and Riley were left with was nothing but the mattress, some furniture, and their own bodies. What was left to do but play daredevil?

Mom had the monitor and, given the earlier events, she had the volume up loud. When Riley started crying, she looked at the screen and was a bit alarmed to see a dark spot on Riley’s temple. It couldn’t be blood, she thought. Oh, how wrong she was. She kept watching as Riley stopped crying and stood up. But when she saw him reach up, touch the dark spot, and then peer down at his hand in horror, she knew that it was going to be bad.

When she came into the room, there was blood everywhere. Blood covering Riley from head to navel; blood drops all over the mattresses (which had been pushed together so as to create a larger jumping platform); there was even blood on Tessa. After whisking Riley into the shower to clean him up and identify exactly how large the wound was, she took Riley to the Urgent Care. Here’s the thing though. This should have been traumatizing for Riley. Pain, blood, doctor. All theoretically bad and scary. But Riley loved his time alone with Mom. And they even met Dad at the Urgent Care. Riley got a popsicle, and a blue one at that. And, after they glued (yes, glued) his wound back together, he was offered his choice of toys out of a treasure chest-just like Captain Hook’s treasure chest. Apart from the now-forgotten pain, this was a great adventure.

So, where do we go from here? That remains to be seen. We are all hoping for no more hypotheses. Everyone has remained put at bedtime. Interesting side note, Emmett slept through the entire Thunderdome-Urgent Care event. He woke up to Pop-pop (who was watching the non-injured babies) giving him some juice. Would that we could all sleep so soundly.

Larsons Out

We have fallen into a regular nighttime routine, of late. One that we all love. Even Mom and Dad love it.

We start out by going upstairs a bit early, and taking a nice, long, warm bath. Sometimes we splash a lot, and sometimes we don’t, but we always love to brush our teeth (especially now that we have Angry Bird toothbrushes with suction cups on them!) and we love to play with wash clothes.

We all have our favorite tub-toy. Riley has a submarine that he rinses everyone with. Tessa, however, prefers silverware in her bath. She has a habit of collecting as many spoons as she can and bringing them upstairs and dumping them all into the tub. Sometimes, she brings up a few forks and plastic knives too. Who knew that so much silverware was needed in the tub. Emmett is a bit more easygoing, and although he doesn’t have one specific toy he needs for the tub, he likes to have a wash cloth and a swimming mermaid.

Once we are all dried off, we listen to jazz. Tessa loves to pretend to play the drums. Riley is more focused on the horn section. And Emmett is the dancer. He makes sure that the lights are on and there is nothing blocking the glass from the windows so that he can watch himself dance.

After a couple of good songs, we adjourn to the hall way, where we play Roar. This game consists of Daddy hiding in our rooms and once we find him, he runs after us yelling, Roar! We would prefer that this game go on for most of the night, but apparently Daddy can’t continue yelling for that long.

After Roar, we all gather in Riley and Tessa’s room, where we read books. Right now, our favorites are Dinosaurs Before Dark and Green Eggs and Ham. Emmett, who has something like a photographic memory, has almost all of the words in Green Eggs and Ham memorized. Because of this, he likes to read some of the book to us! Tessa also likes Captain Underpants, and when she pick it, she yells “Captain Pants! Captain Pants!”

You would think that this would be close to the end of a somewhat lengthy nighttime routine. You would, however, be wrong. After a few stories, we retreat to our respective rooms. And then we have another round of stories. Emmett, usually, goes to bed after his own, personal story time. Sometimes he asks to sing Old MacDonald, at which point he runs through every animal known to man. And sometimes he also adds people he knows. But, for the most part, it is one story and out.

Riley, one the other hand, is the king of stall tactics. After a few stories, not just one, he has to be tucked in just right. Then he has to have his toys and nightlights arranged just-so. Then he needs hugs and kisses. Then he needs a drink of milk. Then he needs a drink of water. Then he needs to brush his teeth again. Tessa, meanwhile, copies everything that Riley does. So, in each instance, Mom and Dad get hit twice with all of these requests. If Mom or Dad put Riley and Tessa to bed without fulfilling all of these requests, they are more likely to stay up and argue with each other. It is not uncommon for Mom or Dad to return multiple times to their room to retrieve Riley’s toys from Tessa’s crib (why does he keep putting them in there?), or to give a crying Riley a soothing kiss after Tessa bit his toe (again, why does Riley keep sticking his feet into her crib?).

It is also not uncommon for Mom or Dad to come in after naptime to see every single loose object in the room transported into Tessa’s crib. We are talking about every stuffed animal, all books and toys, each and every blanket, all of the clothes in the dresser, and the wipes from the top of the dresser (all pulled out of the then-almost-full wipe container). After the first time this crib hording occurred, Dad made Riley help put everything away, and he told Riley that if he put everything back into Tessa’s crib again, he would be in big trouble. The next day, no joke, Mom went into their room after nap to find that Riley again horded all of the goods. But, this time, instead of putting them into the crib he piled them up just next to her crib. He was very proud of this. “Look, Mom, I didn’t put the stuff into the crib!” We explained that it doesn’t matter where he puts the stuff, he isn’t ever to pile up all of the clothes from the dresser or de-stuff the wipes, regardless of where this event were to occur. So far, so good. Except for the blankets. Why Tessa needs 5 blankets in her crib at once, we don’t know, but we are sure Riley has a good reason for it.

We can’t believe that our little T-Bone is going to be two-years-old next week. It’s crazy! It seems like she is much older than that, but it doesn’t feel like she’s been home for two full years. Amazing. We’ll let you know after next week how her birthday went. She asked for an elephant cake for her party, so stay tuned to see if she gets it.

Pigs Out

Hanukkah was early this year. It started on December 8th, so it fell right in between Riley’s Birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Emmett’s Birthday. We learned to light the candles on the menorah and to say the blessing. But let’s get to the point… The presents! We got a Pirate Ship House. (It’s kind of like a doll house, but it is a Pirate Ship.) We also got scooters, dress up wings, Nooks (e-Readers), and lots of other little stuff. We love the Nooks the best. We have all kinds of books on them. There are books about Pirates and Trucks; books about Princesses and Spiderman and animals; and there are Dr. Seuss books. We also have games on the Nooks that help us learn stuff, like spelling and reading and colors and counting.

Then, right in the middle of Hanukkah, was Emmett’s birthday. Because of this, after Emmett’s Birthday, every time we lit the candles on the menorah, Riley would say, “Happy Birthday, Emmett!” Emmett had already celebrated his birthday with his friends at an area indoor playground, so this is was a small celebration. We had cake and ate pizza. Emmett dressed like a Princess on his birthday… It’s one of his favorite costumes! He often puts on the Princess costume and adds in the Pirate eye-patch, the Pirate sword, and Spiderman boots. So great! Emmett got a karaoke machine for his birthday. It has a microphone so that we can all sing to songs like Jack and Jill and the ABC song and This Old Man. (This is actually a source of friction for us, as we argue over gets to hold the microphone and who picks the songs.)

Finally, after meeting the big, fat man in the red suit (where everyone asked for trains), we went to Pop-pop’s and opened presents for Christmas! It was mayhem. Just ask Mom and Dad. Tissue and wrapping paper went flying everywhere. Mom and Dad couldn’t even figure out who gave what to whom, as we were shredding with such speed. (Mom and Dad might tell you this was not our brightest moment, but, once again, the point was the presents, so we aren’t too heartbroken.) Santa must not have been reading this year’s blog too closely, because we hauled in the gifts! So many presents! We got books, and jammies, and a huge, floor piano that you step on to make music, and a Cars remote controlled race track, and a Princess tent (which is already ripped, naturally), and other great presents. We love them all!

Mom and Dad got wine and gift certificates to go out to dinner without us. We aren’t sure exactly what that means. Why does everyone feel that the best gift for our parents is time away from us? Because we are so wonderful and mostly well behaved that it doesn’t seem like they would need time apart from us… Anyway.

On the non-present front, we started skiing in the backyard. Tessa decided against potty training at this time (we will, of course, revisit this issue). We saw a movie (our second), A Muppet Christmas Carol. We lasted for almost an entire hour before the exodus began.

We wish everyone a Happy New Year filled with Love and Light!

Talk soon,
The (soon to be) Fantastic Four*

*Oh, by the way, Mom and Dad told us that we are going to get another little brother or sister! Stay tuned for more information…

I think that Mom and Dad are going to have a huge party. They are celebrating, maybe a bit prematurely, but celebrating nonetheless. Can you guess why? We are all (for the most part) potty trained! Tessa was the last domino to fall, and last weekend she asked to go outside and pee. Sound familiar? OK, yes, it does seem that we are potty training more like puppies than like toddlers. But, hey, pickers can’t be choosers.

In retrospect, it seems like a good move, allowing us to use the doggie door. In T-bone’s case, however, she’s still too little to get her pants down by herself. So, although she will get to the potty or to the backyard, once she’s there-if she’s there alone-then it occurs to her that she still needs a tag-team partner to be successful in this endeavor. Regardless, we have a well watered lawn, and if mistakes are made, they are largely made outside, which enables an easier clean up. Again, another reason to celebrate!

Because we are so very close in age, we are super supportive of one another. Tessa was just finishing up going potty and when Riley heard Mom and Tessa woo-hoo’ing he chimed in from inside his pillow fort, “Good job, Tessa!” And if Tessa opts to pee outside like the boys, Riley will show her where to go and say, “See, Tessa? Watch me. Pee here!” What a great role model. (Except that once Tessa started peeing outside, Riley decided that squatting looked like fun and he tried it too. Not only did he end up peeing on his own feet, but he fell over in the dirt. No fun.)

Anyway. If you have never had kids or if you only had one, you may not think that this accomplishment was worthy of a blog post. We invite you into our home, try it out for a few days, and then see what sort of things you celebrate. The bar is suddenly dropped VERY low and you take your hoorays where you can find them. Maybe it is getting dressed all by yourself, maybe it is a full nap that day, maybe it is just that you decided to sit at the dinner table for more than 5 minutes that night. These are all great things, depending on the situation.

Yay, us!
Emmett, Riley, and T-bone

Halloween was great this year. We were all old enough to start out a bit later, so we got to see all kinds of other kids dressed up. Some were very scary and we weren’t sure what to think about that. (Riley asked Mom to pick him up when he saw a skeleton trick-or-treating.) And some were familiar and we said hi, happy to be a part of a community.

We also talked a lot more this year when people opened their doors. Emmett, who is very into Jake and the Neverland Pirates, kept asking people for treasure. “Trick or Treasure!” he would say, once they held out their candy stash. And by the end of the evening everyone was good at saying “Please” and “Thank you.” Riley, however, took a different route and once he had his candy he said, “Peace.” Where he got that, no one knows.

Each little pig had their own method for picking out candy, too, as no one was familiar with what was being offered. Riley would choose anything blue. He ended up with a lot of Almond Joys. Tessa would take a fist-full of whatever her sticky little fingers could get, not paying attention to color or size. Quantity mattered most to her. Emmett was a bit more interested in what was going on inside the houses then he was in the candy. What sort of decorations did they have? Who was waiting inside, checking out the trick-or-treaters? Luckily, Pop-pop’s street was in full swing, so he got to take in all of the special Halloween touches. He ended up with quite a haul of candy, too.

There was a mechanical spider on someone’s lawn, that was lit up purple and yellow; There were a myriad of ghosts, bats, vampires, and skeletons in people’s trees; there were any number of sound effects, howling, hooting, creaking and cracking; and first thing out, everyone saw a live owl perched on a neighbor’s eve. Everything added to the ambiance, and together with the mild weather, it was by far the spookiest and most fun Halloween ever.

For about two days afterward, we were all asking for candy. We were allowed about 3 pieces per day. Often, as we are not accustomed to getting candy, we didn’t even finish the piece that we had. And after the novelty wore off, we stopped requesting candy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This growing immunity to the lure of candy, however, did not extend to the Halloween costumes. We are still wearing them today…

For a time, Emmett was always Woody, Riley was always Buzz Lightyear and Tessa was always a Princess. But even before the big day, Emmett had tired of Woody and he broke out last year’s Spiderman costume to wear for trick-or-treating this year. Since Halloween, Riley has requested two years ago’s Dinosaur costume more frequently than others, Tessa goes back and forth between her Princess costume and Riley’s last year’s Doggie, and Emmett, who can’t settle on a look, jumps between the Dino, the Buzz, and the Princess. He rather enjoys the tutu. Regardless, overall, we like to play dress-up and we are good at sharing all of the available costumes.

The time change has meant that we are all a bit cranky, and we are getting used to waking up and going to bed an hour later. Give us a few weeks and we’ll be there… Right now we are looking forward to Emmett’s and Riley’s joint birthday party at an area indoor play area. We’ve invited all of the boys’ school friends, as well as some of our other favorites, and we can’t wait to run and jump and scream and eat. We all just know that it will be fantastic. How can it not be, what with all the balloons…

Talk soon,
The Three Pigs

We are all getting ready for Halloween. We picked out our costumes (or, more accurately, Mom picked them out for us). Emmett is going to be Woody from Toy Story; Riley is going to be Woody’s best friend, Buzz; and Tessa is going to be Rapunzel. These are all characters we know and love, and when Mom brought home the costumes, we were so excited that we couldn’t even fathom waiting until the end of the month to put them on. We wore our costumes for two-straight-days.

Emmett, actually, wore part of his costume for that time, as he prefers to be wearing only the bare necessities. As a result, Emmett ended up spending a long time in only his skivvies, his cowboy hat, and his belt and holster. It was quite a sight. All summer long, Emmett engaged in a power struggle with Mom and Dad over the need to wear so many confining clothes. He stripped down for naps. He refused to get dressed in the morning. Only so often will he even put on socks, regardless of the weather outside. Emmett just prefers to be nearer to the state in which he entered this world. Watching him, though, you can see the draw to this au natural lifestyle. He revels in the feel of soft blankets against his skin; he giggles when rolling in the grass, the cool touch of the blades eliciting a surprised intake of breath. Why put a barrier between experiencing everything that you come into contact with? Why ruin such fun?
Unlike Emmett, however, Riley and Tessa opted for their full costumes. Riley kept saying, “Tessa’s a pretty Rapunzel.” It was very cute.

We have all been working on our animals and animal sounds lately. Riley is a softie and loves to snuggle and play with almost any kind of animal. But, for some reason, right now he thinks that everything is mean. (“That’s a mean bird, Mommy.”) So, when we decided to get some fish for the pond, the first thing that Riley asked for was a mean fish. Mom and Dad tried to talk him out of it, but we think that the fish somehow heard him and when we got to the fish store, the fish knew about his request.

We all approached the above-ground ponds, filled with koi, with a bit of excitement. Emmett, of course, right away removed the lid and tried to reach in for a fish. But when the store employee came over with a skimmer to select a fish, one of the fish darted up and out of the water, smacking loudly against Riley’s face and then back into the pond. For a heartbeat, Riley just stood there, unsure. Then he looked to Mom and Dad for some explanation. Seeing that this episode could go one of two ways, they assured Riley that the fish was not mean and that it, instead, jumped out of the water to say “hello” to him.

Riley, at first, was not convinced. But after continued reassurances regarding the fish’s underlying motives, Riley started saying-kind of unconvinced at-“Yeah, the fishy jumped up to say hi to Riley.” But, by the end of the morning, he was repeating that refrain with belief and gusto. It really wasn’t a mean fish. The fish was so overcome with joy at seeing Riley that he jumped out of the water to say hello, conveyed by way of a resounding, watery slap across the face. Unfortunately, due to the weather, once the fish were deposited into the pond, they settled to the rocky bottom to hibernate for the winter. Only come spring, when the koi thaw and begin moving about their new home, will we all be able to tell the color of that fish’s heart.

With the memory of the tail slap slowly fading, Riley started seeing animals everywhere. There was an elephant and a giraffe in the trees in the neighborhood. A fish was visable in the waterfall of an area lake. But the 300-pound black bear in the backyard kind of came out of nowhere.

We were all playing outside, with Emmett and Daddy moving between the kitchen making dinner and the backyard where we were rolling in the grass and playing in the sand box. All of sudden, Dad came outside whispering fervently, “Bear! Bear!” Mom looked up, and sure enough there was a black bear just sitting there, watching us. It wasn’t all that close-maybe 50 yards away. And no one was quite sure what to do.

Dad had a camera and was running to the bear, but Mom seemed hesitant to hang out outside with such mouth-watering appetizers (us) on display for the bear. Mom’s better sense won out, and she picked us up (Emmett was inside, in the kitchen) and ran to the house. Riley was impressed. “Mommy’s running fast,” he said, as if hardly believing that Mom was capable of such speed. But from the safety of the deck, we all peered out into the evening light, trying to get a good look at this new neighbor.

“Mommy, where are the bear’s eyes?” Riley wondered.

“Bear,” Tessa repeated, trying to open the gate to convey our welcome.

Soon, however, the bear wandered back into the trees and disappeared. And now, Riley often sees the bear when driving to school, although we’ve never confirmed these sightings. Regardless, Riley assures us that the bear is, indeed, a mean bear. But that the bear does have eyes.

See you soon,
E, R and T