Lone Ranger Turns 4!

Things around the Zoo have been busy lately.  Cooper turned four (what?!?) on the 10th, which was a Thursday.  That following weekend, though, was Sports Day at school.  For those of you in the US, this means nothing but for the rest of us, we understand that Sports Day is looked forward to all year long.  I think my children think it's the school-equivilant of Christmas.  They practice all sorts of things like relay races, tug-of-war, and running with a beanbag on their head.  Then, at the end of all the 'sports' the moms and dads do everything the kids just did, which always brings a great laugh and then everyone pulls out the picnic baskets and we all enjoy the rest of the afternoon.  Cooper was not going to give up Sports Day for a party.  Neither was I.  

 Em is so focused sometimes... she must get that from her father. 

My boy, on the other hand, is all silliness and giggles.  Which is just fabulous sometimes.  The problem with Sports Day this year is at the very end, the last race of the day, Cooper got sick.  By the next day,  all the kids and myself were down for the count.  So Cooper's birthday party was postponed because Todd had an upcoming business trip.  It was a bit delayed, but we had a great time just hanging out and eating cake with a few friends.  

 For his family celebration, Cooper wanted a "cake that looks like me!"  So we got a bit creative and made a sweet fruit pizza and got things to look like Cooper, complete with pineapple hair.  

 And as you can see, it went over very well. :)

For the official party though, he wanted a Rocket cake.  These kids LOVE the Disney show, Little Einsteins, and I can't say I blame them.  I'm rather fond of it myself!  Coop was so excited to eat his way through the tall cake.  I'm beginning to wonder if he and Em scheme to find the tallest (therefore the most amount of cake per slice) thing.  Either way, it was so enjoyable to just sit and relax with a few friends and watch Cooper get dirty using his new digger (thank you Auntie Linda for the Tonka truck) and rocking out to his new "gee-tar" (whoever in the Chambo household picked that, well 

done my friend!).

Middle of the Floor

There are times, especially when Todd is away for work, that I feel like both the best and worst version of myself.  The best because I'm on top of things.  I'm organized.  I've planned and things are getting done.  Worst because, well, I miss my husband.  I miss him when I have to bath the kids.  I miss him when Harper wakes up at 5-dark-thirty and wants to play.  I miss him when I'm trying to wrestle Em out of the top bunk to use the toilet just one more time before really going to sleep.

Today, was no exception.  I had all four kids dressed before 8.  I had dropped the two older ones at school, lunches packed, pumpkin-oat pancakes in their bellies, and the kitchen was clean.  CLEAN PEOPLE!  But I was frayed around the edges.  Zora is currently in a sleeping funk.  I say that with all the love I have in me but seriously, Baby Girl has got to give a mommy more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep.  There's not enough coffee in the world to overcome this sleep strike she's on... because, you know, I'm still hoping that tonight is going to be THE ONE.  THE night when she remembers that sleep is a glorious and blessed time to be still and commune with the pillow, or mattress in her case.

So when I'd finally gotten her down for a nap, I'd sorted out dinner and the kitchen and laundry and the likes, I decided that I needed a shower to wake me up, and get to smelling a bit more like Dove and a bit less like foot.  It wasn't even my foot smell, but anyways.  I took a quick shower only to get out to a wide awake baby.  Good times.  I called Harper, but no response.  Called her again.  Nothing.

Now I'm angry.

Harper.

Adeline.

Leslie.

Nada.

Grabbed some clothes and threw them on with my hair still wet.  She is literally nowhere to be found.  I looked in rooms, closets, cupboards- nothing.  I looked in the compost (ew, right?).  Under the trampoline, behind the fruit in the kitchen.  Still, nothing.  Then, I ran outside.  Our complex is small.  I recognized a cleaning lady and asked if she'd seen Harper.  No.  The handyman said that same.  They trotted off (neither has been seen to do anything faster than a Sunday saunter before this event, so this was literally historic) to find the gardner.  Now the gardner for our complex is a sweeter, older gentleman who is missing a few teeth and really only says a few words in English.  I know he knows more, but I somehow always get the same response from him, "Okay, very good, very good!"  There is now a gang looking for Harper, a baby screaming in her cot and a mom freaking out because how do you lose a child when everything is locked and there's a vicious-looking dog in your back garden?  Seriously, its like messing up rice.  Inconceivable!

But, this IS Harper, after all.  My child who has so much... personality and charisma, even in pictures  (translation: she's got her mother's stubborn manifesto written on her DNA.)  By this point, I'm sweaty (so much for the shower!) and mentally trying to figure out the next step.  Who would one call?  I know these numbers in the US by heart but I babysat for a decade there, I've never lost a dog, let alone another human being in South Africa!

I went back to the house to sort out the baby and try to figure out how she could even REACH the front door, let alone unlock and turn the handle.  Impossible.  So I go back to the cupboards and in one, I realize there's a blanket missing.  So then I start hunting for the blanket.  Call it a hunch.  I find said blanket in the MIDDLE OF THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR.  I must have stepped/leapt over it half a dozen times in the previous 20 minutes of frantic chaos.  I touch it.  It's solid.  Blankets are not supposed to be solid.

When I pulled the blanket back, Harper's sweaty face turns towards me and she very dreamily says, "Shhh, Mommy, Dolly is counting for hide-and-seek."

I missed my child, in the middle of the floor, for twenty minutes.  Did this make me the World's Worst Mother in the Whole, Wide, World?  Possibly.  I sure felt it, that's for sure.  But after a bit, when Sleeping Beauty finally woke from her nap and was strapped into her carseat, she says to me, "Mommy, thanks for playing with me.  Dolly wasn't very good and I like snuggling with you."  Maybe I'm not THE worst, maybe not yet anyways... or at least, not today.

Week of Milestones

Baby Girl learned to crawl last week.  It was not a milestone I was particularly looking forward to because, well, anyone who has had more than one kid can attest, it all seems rather downhill from here. Don't get me wrong, I love the development of their personalities, but it seems downhill in that they can now CHOOSE to leave me whenever they want... or see something shiny.  I had prepared myself so I wasn't a total mess when it happened, I was rather excited in-the-moment, but I must confess, I did spend half the night laying awake reveling in memories of all four kiddos and wondering where the time has gone.

For the record, if Zora wants someone to take an interest in her, she tilts her head to one side.  If she REALLY wants someone or something to notice her, she fairly turns herself upside down tilting her head to the side.

And then, when I thought I was having enough trouble grasping how big, how old, how non-infant my baby is getting, Em goes and starts riding her two-wheeled bicycle.  I don't mean we pranced around for over an hour taking turns holding the seat of her big-girl bike while she wobbled and panicked at how unsteady it was.  I mean I suggested trying to take the training wheels off, she got on, Todd held the seat for the space of three steps, and that was that.  Turning?  No problem.  Stopping?  A bit tricky but only had to show her once.  Starting?  Again, one explanation and that was it.  It very much reminded me of her toilet training, or learning to talk or essentially any undertaking she has accomplished in the last 5 years.  She just did it.  No fan-fare, no exciting climax, just a simple look of, "What?  This is a big deal?  Okay, then I'll smile really big for the camera but I still slightly think you're all nuts."

I'm not sure when they get their personalities.  I'm not sure how much is temperament or nature or nurture.  However it happens though, I'm pretty sure both of these girls are fairly amazing already.

Sisterhood Of The...

I'm not sure if every mamma out there experiences this, but I have to say, I'm feeling it rather acutely these days.  My kids are growing up.  GROWING.  UP.  

Translation, they are closer to growing away from me, and that is bringing with it so many, many emotions.  A few months ago, I heard a devotional that perfectly accentuated this feeling of both pride, nostalgia and agony over each of these new milestones.  The author spoke about how, especially first-time parents, we celebrate and capture the "Firsts".  First bath.  First smile.  First food.  First day of school.  But how rarely are the "Lasts" captured.  The last time they sneak into your bed at 5am to snuggle on a Saturday.  The last time they voluntarily kiss you in public.  The last time they ask for help buttoning their pants.  The last shoe lace tied.  The Lasts.  

I've been feeling the Lasts a lot.  I think it's one of the curses of having kids so close... you get so frantic with #1 and #2, and then start to regain your footing by #3 and once #4 comes around, you have sorted out how to grocery shop with four kiddos and how to do laundry for six people and how to get everyone, yourself included, out the door with shoes, clothes, snacks AND brushed teeth.  That's when you can look around and realize:  This is the last newborn-meeting-the-family picture.  My last 'first smile' moment.  My last newborn baby squeaks that I swore I would record with Em and have yet to get anything... on any of them.  

So, to honor the Lasts and all that comes with that, I made an effort.  I made an effort to remember not just the firsts which have been so dutifully put on the family calendar to hopefully (some day) be transferred to some sweet keepsake calendar just for that child, but also the lasts.  Zora is a speed demon.  She's intent on keeping up with, or at least being able to observe at her leisure, the rest of this zoo she lives with.  She's angry when she can't move with them outside, or to the next room, or upstairs.  She gets angry when they're eating and she doesn't have a spoon in hand.  But it's not an anger at being left out so much as her way of saying, "See, I'm just like you guys!"

This week, I had another Last moment.  It was gut-wretching too.  Auntie Em, who is family in a thousand ways and whom I love more than I love my shinny blue pot, fairly looted a going-out-of-business outlet when Em was a newborn.  When I got this massive package from her, it had clothing that at the time looked ENORMOUS and I couldn't fathom my daughter ever wearing them.  Then, we left for South Africa and sure enough, Emme fit into one of my favorite footed numbers.  At first, I loved it because it was so obviously pink, thus, girly.  Em had a rather androgynous look to her in those days and I appreciated the "I'm A Girl" statement of this outfit.  

Em wore it the whole plane ride from the US of A to South Africa.  She learned to walk in it and I had to hunt through all of Joburg for puffy paint (side note, things can be called by different names in different countries... learned that one real fast) to put on the little feet so she wouldn't slip and slide all over our tile floors.  Then, she got too big for it and I packed it away.  Not because I was thinking of saving it, but because I honestly wouldn't have known anyone at that point to give it away to.

 Then my Fireball of a Second Daughter came.  And I pulled it out because, once again, it was hard to tell gender.  I think it might have been those shinny bald heads that gave everyone so many issues.  Especially since we live next to so many retirement villages.  Either way, the same dots were on the feet that had been put there and the same ladybug that I loved.  But again, it got packed away because, again, she got too big for it.

 After Baby Girl was born, I was THRILLED to be able to pull out my stash of "girl clothes" once again.  My stack was diminished from a home assignment where many things were left and because of stains that no amount of hand scrubbing could redeem.  But amongst my favorite, out came this one.  THE ONE.  My baby clothing version of creme de la creme.  I washed it with the newborn clothes so I wouldn't forget it.  And then, all too fast, Baby Girl was in it.  And, all too fast, Baby Girl is out of it.  Three girls, one outfit, four very different milestones.  

 The last, and final chapter in the Sisterhood of the Growing Footed-Sleeper.  

Inside Voices

Inside voice please.

Inside voice please!

Inside voice please!!

INSIDE voice please!!!

INSIDE  VOICE  PLEASE!!!

Emme:  Mommy, how come we have to use inside voices but you don't?

There are days, many days, when I feel like I have said the same five phrases at least a thousand times.  Sometimes, it feels closer to a hundred thousand.  And while I'd love to be able to admit that I always ask nicely, always keep my cool, the brutal truth is, I don't.  Sometimes, I have to take a small ear and bring it really, really close to my face and use the very best "scary whisper" I can muster to get my point across.  Sometimes, I give up and do it myself.  Sometimes, I simply sink to their level and yell louder than they do in order just to be heard.  When did I become Charlie Brown's mother?  Wah wha-wah-waahh wah wha???

I honestly don't know how mothers survived before the internet.  Before the mommy-blogging people who posted encouraging things and various ways to keep a toddler occupied so you can do something productive... like the dishes, or take a shower, or just use the toilet alone.  I often have days when, just after bedtime, I head to my little dark corner of the house where the computer is and get on to a blog just so I can be reminded that I'm not a total failure.  I haven't irreparably damaged my children from what happened today.  One of my favorites is this youtube video.

This last week, I felt like I was just a sounding gong or a noiseless cymbal to my children.  I tell them to clean up, so they get more out.  I ask them to wash up for dinner, so they rip the trampoline net down.  I tell them to get clothes on and Todd is late for getting them to school because, low and behold, it wasn't done.  Then we stopped at a traffic light.  There was a hawker and once he realized he wasn't going to get a sale from me, he moved on to the kiddos in the back.  He was enticing them to start begging poor, tired mommy for whatever it was he was selling and Cooper (I promise I'm not making this up) from the far back row of the mini van says, "No thank you.  We don't need that."

This is one small step for Cooper, one giant leap for his mamma!  I could not have been more proud.  I could not have been more shocked.  That's when I remembered the video and the mommy-talk.  I don't tell them a hundred times we don't "need" whatever for me.  I'm not seemingly-endlessly spinning my wheels for me.  I'm not really even doing it for them.  I know my days when they aren't sulking at me, hating me, or punishing me for not letting them...oh... eat junk food, hang out with that friend, go to this party, whatever, are numbered.  I do what I do because I serve a God who SEES what I do.  I serve a God who SEES every ketchup stain I conquer, every ice cube of baby food puree I make, every single time I suck it up and read that book one.  more.  time.

Just as He sees the carved bird in the rafters that no one else will, He sees me, day in and day out, mundanely, tediously and monotonously guiding this zoo of mine through life.

My Blue-Eyed Girl

I remember hearing that most Caucasian kids are born with blueish eyes.  Todd has stunning blue eyes. My dad also has blue eyes, so there has always been hope for my children that they, too, might end up with those ocean-blues.  Somewhere around 3, though, Em's started to change.  I love their color and the depth they have.  (Think stormy hazel and you'll be in the right neighborhood.)  Cooper's eyes too, I've noticed have lost their blue luster and are starting to take on a more Kanzler appearance (my side).  But the little girls, my baby girls still are holding strong.  Since I now know there is a very good chance that "blue" will not be the color printed on their drivers licenses, I've started to seize opportunities to capture on film those blue-eyed stares.  Zora turned 6 months old (WHAT?!?!) two weeks ago and that meant Todd helped me string a sheet up to cover our staircase and we put this half-blanket half-decoration from IKEA on the floor.  (Seriously, where has that thing been the last 5 years???  It has come in so handy on so many different jobs.)  Anyways, and we got Baby Girl fed and happily looking at her favorite lobster toy, which also happened to be someone else's favorite, but for the life of us, neither Todd nor I can remember which one.  Not sure how long we'll have parent-brain, but I'm hoping things will come back to me at some point.

The results of the impromptu photo session were fabulous.  I have on my bucket list to take one truly stunning picture, and I think these are great practice for the day when I do just that.  After all, I can't really count a picture of my kids because 1) I'm totally prejudice and 2) I'm convinced just about anyone could take a "truly stunning" picture of them... they're that cute (thus reinforcing point #1).

No, those aren't teeth, she's just a St. Bernard and drool is apparently shinny in pictures. 

 This is the typical Zora look:  Okay, I'm here.  I'm cute.  Entertain me.  

I think it comes from having three small people always jockeying to be the one to make her smile/laugh/giggle.  But who really knows?

 Mom, I know that I technically stole this basket when I promised to return it 8 years ago and managed, instead, to move it 4 times across the globe, but I'm hoping this picture might make up for the loss :)

This is an old baby blanket from when I was a baby.  Not sure it was actually mine, but I love that Baby Girl thought it was the tastiest thing she'd had in her life.  Wish I had sound of the happy songs she was singing.

Catching Up

We've been struggling around here the last two months.  Since we got back from the US the beginning of April, the household has gone through two rounds of the 24-hours tummy bug and a 7-day tummy bug.  Todd has had three work trips and we've had various birthdays and other celebrations thrown in the mix.  Then, in the last two weeks, we've had another couple of rounds of actual influenza/flu, one of which put Zora and me completely out of commission for 5 days.  So, yes, I've gotten behind, but in light of everything else, I feeling rather okay with the state of the house and life in general.

That said, I have been desperately wanting to catch up on "life" here in blogland.  So many things have happened in the last few months, which means this will be a picture montage of sorts.  Hope you enjoy!

Over the last year, our family has been on a journey to really discover who we are and what we stand for.  We realized that there was a lot of junk cluttering life.  As a result, we donated, garage-saled and will donate again a number of items from the entire house, not just the garage.  The kids have fewer toys out, but we rotate boxes in and out regularly (such a great idea!).  One Sunday, as I was getting more and more angry with trying to brush my hair, it occurred to me that I have long hair but it's eternally wet and in a ponytail.  So, after some discussion, I had it chopped and sent this to Locks of Love.  Hopefully, someone else will find a use for it since I wasn't.  

 Todd had a number of business trips recently, one of which was to Ethiopia.  His trip was very near Father's Day and so the kids and I took the opportunity to give Daddy something he would love:  a fire pit.  And yes, he LOVES it.  Gotta be honest, it wasn't the easiest to dig into red clay, but so worth it and the winter fires around the fire pit with hot tea instead of watching TV or some other random activity have been simply fabulous.

 Right before everyone got sick, we had taken an afternoon in the park.  This was my favorite of all four kids.  Sorry Harper, looks like you got stuck with your mommy's "smily eyes" (as Daddy calls them).

The kids were sick, really, really sick, for a solid 6 days.  That meant every DVD/downloaded show we own was watched no less than half a dozen times.  Mommy and Daddy could only do so much and since we had time on our hands and couldn't go anywhere, we made the most of it and got some of the organizational projects on my Honey Do List done.  We bought some dog tail hooks at IKEA when we were in the US a few months ago, and I had Todd put them up to hold the kids' backpacks.  It's worked out really well.

 And after much fussing with the layout (via newspaper representations of pictures), I also got our gallery wall sorted, complete with the kids' silver baby cups!  I've been wanting to display these since Em got her's at 5 weeks.  It took me forever to figure out how to get them up, but we managed it and I'm so pleased!

 Em recovered from illness just in time for her first Daddy-Daughter date.  I'd purchased tickets to go see the Russian Ballet Exhibition months ago.  I didn't think she's make it through a full ballet at 8pm, but this was shorter, with individual dances and such, in the middle of the day.  She and Daddy had an amazing time.  Daddy bought her flowers, took her to a nice restaurant, and then went to the ballet.  Can't believe my girl is old enough to be going on dates with the best guy in the world, but I guess its time I started to share.

 All ready to go!

 In the midst of all the chaos, the two littlest girls have decided that they are going to assert their independence and chaos or not, achieve major milestones.  Harper firmly and emphatically insisted she was going to use the toilet.  Zora let her voice be heard that she wanted food.  Real food, like what everyone else gets at the table.  Good times all around :)

 After days and days of just laying around watching TV, the girls had had enough.  They put on their dress-up clothes and ventured outside.  It was possibly one of the happiest sights I've seen as a mom.

 Em's favorite:  Making her dress "big and poofy".

And not to leave anyone out, Zora, in all her big-girl glory, showing off her sitting up skills.  They grow too fast.  I'm just not ready for it all yet.