Everyone made a smooth time transition except for Linus and Penelope, who insisted on living it up (translation: laughing and "talking") for an hour or more every night before finally falling asleep.
Linus woke up super ornery and with no apparent memory of the revelings of the night before.
Linus (staggering out of bed and panicking): Where's my zipper?!
And he was, at times, irrational.
Me: You'll be OK, Linus.
Linus (sobbing with rage): I don't want to be OK!!
Penelope usually spends part of her mornings looking up to and playing with her big brothers.
But, by the end of the week, she wasn't happy doing anything but lying in Mom or Dad's lap (mostly Dad's).
Maybe I'm a jerk, but sometimes I like to tease ornery kids.
Linus: I hungry!
Me: Ok, Mr. Hungry.
Linus: I not Mr. Hungry!
Me: Ok, Mr. Linus.
Linus: No! just 'Inus!
Me: Ok, Just-Linus.
Linus: No! 'Inus!
Woo finally solved the problem by only letting kids who'd gone to sleep on time ride bikes the next day. One day of watching everyone else ride their bikes is all it took for Linus.
(several times throughout the day) I not do that again, Mom. I not do that again.
And without her partner in crime, Penelope had no reason to stay up.
Why is it that my little boys are always the ones with the sweet, natural ringlets?
Annual haircuts are coming up in just 3 weeks and Herbie and Linus are definitely ready for it. Mostly because their hair is so long, and always in their eyes.
But, Moses' isn't. I kind of like his this length, actually.
I suppose it's part of life with little boys to find cars and trucks in random places all over the house. I found a monster truck in the potatoes while making dinner, and told Linus where he could find it.
Linus (sprinting back to the living room): Mosey! I found my monster truck!
Mommy took it!!
While giving Ruby a squeeze before bed, I patted something on her back that was hard, in a rectangle shape, and made a hollow sound when I knocked on it. Yes, it was the book she'd been reading earlier in the evening, stuffed up the back of her shirt.
So close, Ruby, but no cigar.
I don't know how she planned to read it; we've unscrewed her light bulb.
Herbie is our resident hypochondriac. He greets me most mornings with something like, "I don't feel good, Mom. Can I stay in bed?" or "Can I stay home from school?" To which I say, "Sure." or "Come down and eat breakfast, and then we'll see how you feel." He always follows me right downstairs, and that's the last I hear about it until the next morning.
P.S. I sure think Archie's cute, even if he is mostly head and belly.