Robin's Chicks

Nudge The Nest & Pray They Fly

Ode to Emma…

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I should have realized Emma(2) was going to be a trouble maker when she had to be put in a cage before she was even 18 months old. (Alright, it’s a crib tent, but still!) She could get out of the bed and land on her feet before you could even get out of her room.

I’ve said before that Emma could give Dennis The Menace a run for his money. Don’t believe me? Fine. Here’s proof. Keep in mind that I only take pictures on days that I have a sense of humor. (Hard to believe, I’m sure, but I’m not ALWAYS amused by my children’s antics.) They are always funny in hindsight, but not necessarily hilarious when you have 5 minutes to load up all 3 kids, a diaper bag, bottles, half of their toy box, juice cups and snacks and you realize that first you must clean a jar of peanut butter and a vat of honey out of your wicker kitchen chair. (And yes, that has happened…it wasn’t NEAR as fun as it sounds.)
Here is Emma making breakfast for herself. Aubrey was SO proud of her. “Mommy, her did it ALL by herself.” You don’t say. I think I’m going to start buying Cheerios and just put them directly in the trash can. That’s where they all end up anyway.

Need some soap in the bathtub? You don’t need someone over 2 feet tall…just see if you can scale the shower walls with wet feet. So you might get a black eye…no big deal.

WHAT paint?

“OH, I didn’t know y’all had a dog…” Yeah, that’s because we don’t. THIS is what Emma did when I took LITERALLY 3 minutes to check my e-mail and look at pictures, the day my nephew was born. LITERALLY THREE MINUTES! Can you imagine what she could have done with 5? I was actually too furious to enjoy the humor on this day. Zeb took the pics and cleaned up the mess while Emma stood in time out saying, ” I sorry. I didn’t mean to. It a ac-ci–dee–ent…” AN ACCIDENT? Get real, kid.


It’s never a good thing to find your 2 year old IN the bed with your newborn…even worse when the 2 year old has a green snotty nose and her fingers in the baby’s mouth. Thank you, Emma. (And yes, Sadie’s bedroom door is now childproofed.)

Like that shade of lipstick? Yeah, I did too. That’s why I bought it. Right before Clinique discontinued it…

Once again Emma shows her exquisite taste by skipping over the WalMart makeup and going straight for the MAC eyeliner…

What? Like you’ve never drawn on a belt with a Sharpie!

In my own defense, so no one accuses me of not liking my own kid, Emma is a true blessing to me. I wouldn’t change her if I could (well, maybe the places she chooses to go potty and the time she almost burnt the kitchen down by turning the toaster oven on 500 degrees, then putting the kitchen chair back. I didn’t know until I saw black smoke BILLOWING out of the kitchen, but I digress.) I think her diligence in covering her own tracks shows true genius. I find it especially impressive that most of the things she gets into ARE already childproofed. I think she could have a bright future at someplace like Fisher Price. They need her to take their toys for a test drive before advertising them as indestructible…she broke their “kid friendly” DVD player in less than a week. If nothing else, she keeps me and my friends entertained with her antics!

Aubrey’s Husband

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Several weeks ago, our neighbor, Jerry, asked Aubrey(4) to marry him. He has a black lab and she loves dogs, so she said yes.

When she told Zeb of her marriage proposal he VEHEMENTLY objected, “Nope, he’s too old for you. You have to marry someone closer to your age!” (Don’t know Jerry’s exact age, but he IS old enough to be her grandfather.)

That night while I was tucking her in bed and we were saying our prayers we had a conversation, again, about getting married and all the reasons she couldn’t marry her Daddy OR Jerry. And that she could go ahead and be praying for her husband now, for God to bless him and take care of him.

In the following days, she began talking about Christian. He was very handsome and she was going to marry HIM, instead of “Mr. Jerry.”

“Momma, him is so sweet to me…” she would say.

“Aubrey, where did you meet him? Does he go to your school? Does he come to Bible study?”

She would get frustrated and say, “YOU KNOW….CHRISTIAN…”

I would say, “No, baby, Mommy doesn’t know him.”

This went on for DAYS. Until one day she finally snapped and screamed at me, “MOMMA, YOU SAID I WAS GOING TO MARRY HIM!!!! RENEMBER???”

I had a sudden flashback to our conversation in the bed that night:
Me: You can’t marry Mr Jerry because he’s too old and you can’t marry your Daddy, because he’s your daddy.
A: But who will I marry Momma?
Me: I don’t know his name, but I’m sure he will be a Christian (here’s my own a-ha moment), and handsome and very sweet to you…

(Cut back to our current conversation.)

I started laughing.

“Baby, he’s going to BE a Christian, I don’t know what his name is!”

Aubrey said “What’s a Christian?”

“Someone who loves Jesus. Do you love Jesus?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Then you are a Christian, too!”

She looked at me like I had lost my mind and walked out of the room.

Aubrey’s latest excuse to stay out of bed…

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We stayed up WAY too late last night, and because of that bedtime was more chaotic than usual. (And THAT is saying something.) Emma(2) was screaming and crying which was only exacerbating her already junky cough. (That’s a medical term…) So I swooped in and saved her from the mean old Daddy that was trying to put her in bed and took her to the rocker in Sadie’s (2 mos) room to help her calm down for a bit before tossing her back in the bed.

While I’m rocking away and talking to Emma, Sadie wakes up and starts crying, about this time Aubrey(4) comes waltzing in Sadie’s room and points at her belly and says, “God won’t quit talking to me so I can go to sleep!” I said “Your tummy won’t quit talking to you?” She said, “NO, GOD won’t quit talking to me and I’m trying to sleep!!” I asked, “What is He telling you?” Aubrey replied, “Ummm, just that Him loves me and stuff.” I told her to pray and ask Him to be quiet for a little while so she could sleep and she immediately said, “God will you please be quiet so I can sleep? Momma, He said ALRIGHT!” She went and got in bed and I didn’t hear from her again all night…

Hallelujah

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Aubrey(4) walked into the room this morning and said “Hallelujah.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

“Hallelujah, it’s a word for the Lord… you just say it to say good morning to Him. Hallelujah.”

Well then, hallelujah.

The Poop Wars

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Oh, how I hesitate to talk about this….I love my kids, but you might not. Let me start by saying that Emma(2) is THE most mischievous child I have ever met. The kid can make messes in 30 seconds that take me 2 to 3 hours to clean up. If she is missing for more than 60 seconds, I can guarantee she is doing something she is not supposed to. That being said, potty training with her has been QUITE the adventure.

Last week she came to me and told me she had “poo-pooed in Baby Sadie’s room”, and sure enough, there were 2 not so little surprises waiting for me. Complete with a trail of toilet paper from the bathroom all the way to Sadie’s room. Lovely, right?

But it gets worse. About 3 months ago, when I was so pregnant I was about to pop, Emma came crawling into the bed with Zeb and I in the middle of the night. Normally, unless you are truly hysterical, you go back to your own bed. But I was too pregnant to pick her up and carry her to her room and she was being really still and quiet. So we snuggled. I was laying on my left side and she nestled up against me, I’m kissing her little cheeks and she says ” ‘cratch my arms, Momma,” and of course I do. About this time I notice a smell. Not a poop smell. A strep throat smell, you moms and nurses out there know EGG-ZACTLY what I’m talking about…I thought to myself, “Poor baby, her throat probably hurts so bad she couldn’t sleep. We’ll have to go to the doctor first thing in the morning.” As I’m feeling sorry for her and scratching her tiny little arms, she opens her fist and puts something in my hand. Something small. Something round. Something slightly sticky. The scream that issued forth from my lips could have gotten me a speaking part in any horror movie. Zeb sits straight up in bed, looking for an armed intruder, I am in shock, totally grossed out…my bed has been violated. After a 3 AM bath for Emma, some VIGOROUS hand washing on my part and a quick sheet change we all got back into bed.

So you would think that after all this, I would be prepared. I couldn’t possibly be shocked or disgusted any further. You would be wrong.

Yesterday, I am cleaning the kitchen and Emma comes in and says “Momma, I poo-pooed in the sink.” *Blank stare* Excuse me, what? “What did you say Emma?” “I poo-poo in the sink Momma.” No, no, no, no, no. She didn’t. She wouldn’t. Why would she take her pants off IN THE BATHROOM and NOT go in the potty? She’s making—–“MOMMA, EMMA WENT POO POO IN THE SINK!” Aubrey(4) screams. She did. I go to the bathroom to find poop in the sink, where they wash their hands and brush their teeth. Gross. GROSS! GROSS! (I’m an ER nurse, trust me when I say I have seen some sick and disgusting things in my life, but this had me gagging…) Emma was IMMEDIATELY disciplined and sent to time out. And while I’m scrubbing every surface of the bathroom with bleach and trying to figure out what I could possibly have done to deserve this, Emma is singing the blues from time out….”I’m sorry Momma, I ready be nice now. I not poo-poo in the sink anymore.” I’m afraid to even guess where she’ll go instead!