57/100

What We've Been Up To:

Felix:
Having a comically huge head. The child is in the 50th percentile for weight, the 75th for height, and the 99th for head circumference. In fact, as of his 4 month check up, he'd be in the 75th percentile in head size for a one year old. The doctor gave us these statistics yesterday, but it was something we'd been talking about for awhile.
"Can you believe how big and boxy his noggin is?"
"You put your hand on his forehead and it surprises you every time!"
"I think it's bigger than Owen's."

Owen:
Pestering James. Racing to the table and climbing into James' seat, laughing with naughty delight, whenever they're called to the table. Doing the same thing whenever we go to the minivan in James' booster seat. Climbing up to the top of James' bunk bed, throwing all of his stuff off onto the floor, and declaring it his. Generally crashing into things and falling down a lot, as if he's suddenly grown (he is wearing 3T clothes now) and isn't used to his body being quite so big. Asking lots of questions about Twynynasauwus Wex. Alternately (this comes from James reading "T-Rex" and not knowing how to pronounce it) asking questions about T'wex. Asking questions about whether rainy weather puts out the fires inside of dragons. Generally pitching operatic tantrums whenever he is denied access to candy or dessert. (This is most of the time.) Playing lots of "Fight" and "Battle" with James. (The rules, as in "Chase," are pretty much explained in the name of the game.) Still consistently mixing up his pronouns and calling any and all females "he" and "him." Giving enthusiastic support for the Buffalo Bills, who in his mind play a game called "Buffawo," with an egglike ball which can either be called a "Buffawo" or a "Football," against a team of "bad guys" called "Jeanette." (Maybe the Jets?)

James:
Showing some religious sensibilities, despite our borderline neglect of the subject in homeschool and the scattershot approach to his Sunday Schooling which he gets from alternating between different church arrangements every weekend. He composed and offered his own prayer last night, and is slowly making some connections between Bible stories and what we're reading about in the Egypt section of History. (He seemed genuinely upset when I told him I had to give his History textbook back to the library, at least temporarily, and stole it away for a few minutes to read ahead.) Working his way through a massive stack of new library books on Pirates, Snakes, Dragons, Tigers, Dinosaurs, the Magic School Bus, Elephant and Piggie, Curious George, and How to Draw Airplanes. Fulfilling every stereotype of the homeschooler who stays in pajamas all day long, and immediately changes back into them upon return if for whatever reason is required to put on something else to leave the house. Building immensely intricate Lego treehouses and towers that are far too fragile for a room shared with Owen.

Julie:
Being hugged and called a "hot mom" by her most obnoxious flute choir member upon wearing a blazer to rehearsal. (?) Stretching our end-of-the-month empty fridge creativity seven days into November (I think she's going to the grocery store) by somehow convincing the boys to eat, over the past few meals a salad with black beans on it, a roasted squash, and a chili with black beans as the only type of beans. (Black beans and squash, according to James and Owen, might as well be liver and tripe.) Reading a book about the rise of the Nazis. Executing a massive hunt, sort, and fold (this should be called a sortie) of all stray boy's clothes into their proper bins. Feeding a sneezy and largeheaded baby around the clock.

Me:
Attempting to get up earlier and get more reading (and occasionally blogging) in before little boys get up. Winterizing the house and putting outside things away before the frost and snow. Recovering from some ill-fated high note in church that has hobbled trumpet playing for the last couple days. Being aware of the necessity of cleaning the bathrooms, yet not finding the will to do so, especially during those golden moments when some or all of my children are asleep.