Eyebrows Make A Man…

the crazy naked littles

Okay, we have had a lot of laughs on this particular blog site about eyebrows.  I, alone, am a living, walking, talking, breathing eyebrow failure of a woman.  BUT TODAY…today it was all about a lesson my son was teaching my youngest daughter.  And, I am willing to bet, it’s a lesson that YOU, AS WELL, didn’t even know 😉

Maxwell (age 4), sitting at our lovely farmhouse renovated table, messy hair, and slightly hoarse morning voice, eating the “talking” cereal with his little sister, GoGo Bean (aka Josephine Diane), looked excitedly at her and proclaimed, “JOSEPHINE!!!!!  You’re growing EYEBROWS!  Soon you’re going to turn into a MAN!”

And as excited as he was for Josephine to turn into a man, this newfound knowledge did not sit as well with his 3-year-old sister who then proceed to cry, “I DON’T WANT EYEBROWS!”

Entertainment abounds, my friends…

Even in the art of eyebrows!

When You Don’t Want Your Children To Grow Up

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“Now, Maxie?” Josephine shouted.

“Not yet, GoGo!” Max responded.

They were sitting on two little roller coasters that you push with your feet, waiting one for the other to go down the little slope.

And, because her big hero brother said “Not yet” she waited and said, “Okay, Maxie…”

Then he would count, “One, two, three, GO!”

Their chubby little feet would paddle the ground and they would begin the slight decline down the coaster to soar onto the open floor.

Smiles and joy and squeals accompanying their little rides.

Then one would shout, without hesitation, “Let’s do it again!”

And off they’d push their cars to the top to begin again.

Friends—my two Littles are utterly exhausting.  I’m like super tired.  And they fight.  And they roll on the ground.  And they don’t like their food to touch—or when I cut their toast the wrong way.

My eyes are held open by VERY strong coffee…

But it’s ALL so worth it.

And my stomach is already nostalgic for the future loss of my Littles.

My decade daughter, as she calls herself, was once my Little…and I enjoyed every minute of it (let’s not relish in her own toddler tantrums that also split my hairs 😉 )…

She, in all of her innocent wonder, was my sunshine on any cloudy day.  And, believe me, in Poland there are a LOT of cloudy days.

Now she’s the epitome of beauty and grace.  She is tall and slender and lovely with a touch of awkward.  And growing.  She will, without any doubt in my mind, be a beautiful, successful, creative, and compassionate young lady—I already see that in her.

But it does not mean I don’t miss my Sweet Adelyne that used to skate on flour and make tea parties for her daddy with all of her dollies.

She has phased into young lady—that, very thankfully, still likes to occasionally play dolls, too!

And as my little miracle approaches his fourth birthday, I think.  No, I know that I am already missing him.

My toddler, naked bottom Max—without a care in the world.

Can I squish him into Little-ness forever?

Probably not—but I capture every moment of each of our days—the good and bad—on the reel of my on-going memory maker—the core of my heart…because I know that, as they grow, I will enjoy each new phase—but it will not mean that I will not miss the last one.

Josephine asked Maxie if he was ready—and he said “Not yet.”

Maxie—I am not ready, yet, either.

Please don’t grow.

But just like they paddled their feet and took off, I know what fate awaits me…

Their wild ride.

***

Photo credit:  Inga Rurek

My Sweet Littles Saying Their Prayers and Dancing on Couches!

You must think that I only have two children with the fact that only Josephine and Maxwell appear to be in my videos.  Sometimes I feel as if I only have two children.  But I actually have three:  Sweet Adelyne, as well.  It’s just that, at 9 years of age, Sweet Adelyne has the most social of social calendars of ANYONE I know.  Not just of 9 year olds. Of anyone—9 or 90—that I know.

It’s awesome fabulous—because, you know, we live in this foreign land called Poland.  And it’s awesome fabulous that my daughter is not a foreigner in this foreign land—she is a Pole.  A proud one.  And she lives her life as a full-blown Polish gal.  Romping, playing, going to school, studying, extra curricular activities, and so forth.

She breathes White and Red.  I am so thankful to God for that!

But that also means when I am at home being Mommy 24/7…(last night daddy actually was home and by 6pm, so we had family pizza night.  twas awesome!)…

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Anyhow…As I play this magical and amazing role of Mommy 24/7, I tend to video those subjects most around me:  Which would continue to explain the absence of Adelyne and Richard 🙂  Neither tend to be around me that often…

Hmmm?????  Perhaps it’s me?!  Haha!

Once again, I really hope you enjoy the videos of the Littles that steal my every moment—even my potty breaks.  But they fill my life with such amazing miraculous wonder, I can’t help but love my every minute.

Here continues the sweet adventures of my Littles, Jo and Max!  Enjoy.

GoGo, will you dance with me?  Asks her awesome Big Bro Maxwell!

Trying to get two toddlers that share a room to settle down and pray is oh so stinking sweet!

I walk into the living room and find Max on top of the couch dancing to Christmas music (yes—we’ve been playing it ever since the chill hit the air!).

I wish you all well and lots of warm love, Christmas music, and overall contentment with where God has placed you in life.

xo for now,

b

Laundry Mountain and Maxwell with his pretty shoes.

When you have one boy and two girls, you will most likely see your boy dressing as a girl than the other way around.  Now, mind you, he will have a wooden sword in one hand while prancing in pretty silver shoes at the same time.

But you do see his Batman underwear, right?

It’s like he’s all boy — with a dainty side 😉

Anyhow, I thought you may enjoy my laundry adventures with Max and Jo.  Which pretty much means I get no laundry done.

But I get the moments of love with my kids (although I am sure Josephine was feeling a little too loved tonight).

Have a great day and enjoy the episodes of Laundry Mountain!

xo b

Laundry Mountain and Maxwell Pretty Shoes!

Snow angels in the clothes!

GoGo my special sister!  Declares Maxwell.  Jo does NOT feel the love tonight 😉

My Rocky Balboa…I hope it’s not insulting.

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Today is a GREAT day. It’s my sister’s Golden Birthday. November 16th. Except she did not just turn 16. She just turned…

Ah, what’s that expression?

I think it’s 40.

Over the hill.

Lordy, Lordy, Darby’s 40!

But she doesn’t look a day over 38. I would say 25, but I pretty much think all 25-year-olds look like kids at this stage of my life, so I will simply stick with the fact that she still looks like a lady in her 30s.

And who is this great 40-year-old lady with this wonderful name Darby?

Why, this woman is my Rocky Balboa. I really hope that’s not insulting.

Here. Let me explain.

My sister and I are 16 months apart in age.

If you have children, you understand. That’s close in age. So close, in fact, that at times you feel as if you have an extension of who you are.  Almost like a twin.

Except, I am not sure she feels the same way.  And this is why…

Before we returned to Poland, Darby and I were having a fabulous late-night chat.  You see, my husband left for Poland a month before we did, so I had the immense privilege of living with my sister and her wonderful husband and fabulous kids.  Which was also RIGHT next door to my amazing brother, his awesome wife and fantastic kids.

It truly was a dream month.

But back to my conversation…

My sister looked at me and said, “Do you remember all of those times you had to fight to wear makeup or high heels or pantyhose?”

“Do you remember all of those times you had to fight to go on a date or stay up late?”

“Do you remember all of those times you had to fight to drive a car or go to a movie with your friends?”

And I simply answered, “No.”

Because I don’t.

“Exactly.” She replied.

My sister.  She is the eldest in our family.  She was our Rocky Balboa.  She entered the ring first and fought all of those battles for us.

And for Darby, they were battles.

For my brother, Casey, and I, they were simply victories.

So, to my sister.  The one that turned 40 today, I just want to say…

I thank you.

I admire you.

And I love you.

Thank you for being the most amazing sister in the world.  An example as a wife.  A brilliant auntie.  A stupendous daughter.  And the most fabulous mother.

You are my Rocky.  And I thank you for being ahead of me.  Not just because you jumped in the ring for me, but because you have always been my steadfast fighter.

On your knees, before our awesome God, praying for me.  For my life—in health and uncertainty.  In my marriage.  And for my children.

I will never forget when you told me that God spoke to you in a dream and said, “Brooke, God told me you would have another baby.”

And then we had Max.  Miracle Max.

You, my sister, you are being celebrated a world away today because of a date that marks the birth of the start of your life here on earth.

But a world away, I will celebrate you.  Not because of your birth—but because of your life.

Thank you, my sister.

Forever I thank you.

And, to end it all, “Yo, Adrienne!”  Just because I couldn’t resist.

I love you, my Rocky.

Forever and always,

your B

***

Just for fun.  In case you have never had the chance to read another rather emotionally charged battle we had.  Except this time we were both in the boxing ring.  The opponents?  The other sister 😉  Enjoy a throwback blog posting.  xo b

Knockdown Drag out Fight in Costco

Adelyne. That word says it all.

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Adelyne:  Proper Noun:  A very well loved little girl often the subject of lavish attention, lots of hugs, and years of being the sole receiver of her parents’ concentration (aka: only child)

For Adelyne’s 5th birthday, when it was time for cake, she insisted on being carried in to her party.  On the arms of her daddy and uncle.  As if she was entering on a royal coach.  And she even held out her fingers as if to say, “Royalty is here!  Greet me now.”

She was loved.  She was played with.  She was well taken care of.

Our only child.  All attention lavished upon her.

And so, today, I looked at this beautiful gift of ours and asked, “Adelyne (now 8), do you remember being an only child?”

She replied, “Yes.  I was an only child forever.”

“What do you remember most about it?”

“I remember Nana took me to the Zoo the day Max was born.  And then we got to stop by McDonald’s on the way home so that I could hold him.”

In those two sentences she summed up, for me, her life.

My beautiful and precious only child began to truly live once Maxwell entered it.

He is her most beloved.  Her best friend.  Her precious treasure.

Memories will exist through photos.  And maybe one day she’ll refer to her 6 and 1/2 years of being an only child as “The Good Ol’ Days”.  But perhaps not.

Perhaps her “Good Ol’ Days” did not truly begin until her brother entered them.

And that’s a-okay.

Adelyne, in and of itself, is a miraculous and beautiful word.  But Adelyne and Maxwell—to me, is the epitome of perfection.

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