The Great and Random Ramblings of Cannwin

When Albowin was a baby we called him Buddy. I miss that being his nickname. But now he's a big kid... I just can't believe I have kids this old!

Happy Birthday to my very special first born child. She hits the double digits today. I can't believe it's been that long.

Last weekend the kids had fall break so we took the chance to do some travelling. We went down to Arizona to see one of my bestest friends in the whole wide world . My friend's family home (where we met) is out on the Navajo Reservation in Northern AZ. It's desert landscape, with large patches of blissfully messy sand. Remewin loved it and I had fun taking lots of pictures of her playing. Then I got this one. I'm just stunned. Her hair is the exact same color as the sand around her. What an awesome thing to say about oneself! Usually when someone asks you--"What color is your hair?" You have to say boring things like "Brown." Or "Dishwater Blonde." My baby girl's hair is the color of the American Southwest. I'm totally gloating about this for the next 50 years. PS... see that short spot on the side of her head? That's from the first self induced hair cut that I hadn't gotten my courag...

This weekend Ralexwin has a 4-day pass from the military and is going to come visit the Irish Twins for their birthdays. We haven't told them he's coming, but we have told them they have a big surprise headed their way. Naturally the questions started raining down after that announcement. "What is it?" --Not telling. "Is it a light saber?" --I'm not answering specifics like that. "What color is it?" --Umm, white.... sometimes it has green on it. "Is it from Dad?" --Yes "Does it have to do with the Army?" --Yes "Is it an alien?" --No, but I find it funny you associate aliens with the military. "Is it a robot?" --What exactly do you think your dads job is? "Is it a toy?" --No. "But you can play with it?" --Yes. "Grown up games or kid games?" --It knows some fun grown up games, but it can handle kid games too. (I was rather pleased with this an...

Last week Remewin did something that I've never actually dealt with  in a child before--she cut her hair. I gotta tell you, I nearly cried. I've been growing out her luscious locks since she was born and in one moment the entire left side was gone. So... after a few days of talking myself into it, I got the courage up to cut it to her shoulders and blend in the chop. Today I came down to my room after my shower and found a huge clump of hair waiting for me by my desk. I thought, I hoped, I'd just missed picking it up last week (even though I've vacuumed since then) but no.... Remewin cut her hair again. This time I'm not sure what I'm going to do short of boy cutting it. I may cry.

One of the things I love (kinda hate) about kids is how absolutely unconnected they are with the world. They never notice anything, or rather, they never care about the things they notice. Take this photo for instance. A simple, "Hey mom, the babies asleep," would have been appropriate at this point... but does anyone mention it to me? No way! This TV show's way to interesting to be bothered by little things. Admittedly in this case I was more than okay with her falling asleep since it was bedtime, but the image of moments before this picture was of three older siblings crowded around her completely oblivious to the fact she'd nodded off. Even a little, "Hey mom! Great photo opportunity, come see!" would have been nice. But no, Perry the platypus was saving the world, and that's much more important. Of course, they all looked adorable cuddled up together on that couch, regardless of which ones had fallen asleep. I love seeing my kids peace...

Today the Irish Twins head off to their first day of school, leaving me with my little munchkins for another year. This will be the Mischievite's last year home before he starts Kindergarten, and I have to tell you, I have no interest in sending him to pre-school. I love, love, love having him around and am more than willing to horde that time. In fact, I wish I'd kept the Irish Twins home as well. BUT, the munchkins will be sad. First their dad leaves to go play soldier then two weeks later their big brother and sister go away to play students. That's the sort of thing little people have a hard time adjusting to. Even if they can't see through their hair well enough to notice any changes. :)

I think it's one of those small injustices in life that my little baby Remewin can love yogurt so much and not be able to eat it. She frequently tries to force herself into the refrigerator and towards the yogurt stored there. When she can't have it she bursts into tears and crumbles to the floor. Every once in a while I will give her a little bit and she consumes it with zeal. I also think it's sad to see her run for her shoes whenever the kids go off to school. She hasn't come to terms with their leaving everyday the way the Mischievite has. Tears always follow this as well. Finally, I find it a terrible injustice that she can't seem to sleep through the night. I am so tired. My body is sludge, my brain is mud. I think I will take a nap with Remewin--who despite waking up multiple times last night, seems to be in a fantastic mood.

...she sits on top of a box and her legs are to short to reach the ground. ...she walks past the garbage can, looks inside and for no reason at all drops whatever she's holding in. ...she has her hair in pig tails. ...her brother is making a ruckus during diaper changing time and she looks across at him and hollars "Daaawwwp!" (which means stop) ...she can be heard on the other side of the house clomping around in her dad's cowboy boots. ...her friend 'L' comes over and they run to each other and kiss. ...in the middle of the night, after infinite minutes of crying I pull her out of her crib and she folds herself into me and immediately falls asleep. ...she smiles her cheese smile that scrunches her eyes shut. ...she tells jokes in jibberish, then laughs at them. ...she helps clean up the table. ...she tries to hold her own around her older siblings. ...she attempts to inflict pain on me by hitting. ...she actually finds a spot and stay...

I've been slowly acquiring some new, nice clothes (one clearance sale at a time) and I must say I'd forgotten how much of a difference nice clothes can make. It's been quite a while since I spent any time in a clothing store (for myself) and most of my 'law school' wardrobe has come from Wal-Mart. But not lately and it seems to have made a difference. I feel so much more feminine when I like what I wear. I feel like putting on some light lipstick and doing my hair a bit. I've been really amazed at how refreshing it's been to feel pretty --even in a pair of sweat pants or a hoodie. Also it's nice not to have to dig through my drawers and grumble every single morning. I can just grab and know that whatever I pick will look nice, without alteration. I think I've learned a great lesson about myself and perhaps about looking nice in general. Looking pretty takes keeping up with your wardrobe. On that note, today Remewin has her 18 month old Dr....

Oi! Someone remind me what the joy in children is! I woke up in the middle of the night last night to run to the lou and do you know what I found? Three children huddled around my laptop playing on the internet. "What time is it?" I mumbled incoherently. Silence. This, of course, woke me up. "What time is it guys?" I said in my mother voice. A quiet, "4:23." "Get back in your rooms right now." Two boys scampered off. One little girl resisted. "Vicbowin." I warned, "1.... 2....." I walked over to her and slammed the computer shut. She scampered, wailing at the injustice. I threatened bodily injury if she woke the baby or touched my computer again without permission. Then crawled back in bed. A little while later Ralexwin gets up to go to the lou and repeat the process. Except with alot more excuses. "I forgot she told me not to touch the computer!" "I didn't realize it was only 5:00A...

As a mom I have some pretty powerful bragging rights that I'd like to lay claim to today. I have the cutest bug in the world. After Vicbowin was born I wasn't sure I'd ever get another girl. Ralexwin's family genes lean very strongly toward male babies and the odds were overwhelmingly against me. Then Albowin came along, followed by the Mischievite and I began to lose hope that I would ever be able to give my daughter a sister. Imagine my joy when the doctors announced that my newborn child was a girl. I nearly cried. "A girl!?" I breathed, as they handed that sweet, messy bundle to me. A girl. A sister. A daughter. Vicbowin and I wasted no time in buying Remewin's first dress. We've taken every opportunity to primp and coddle and spoil this little delight in our lives and Remewin seems to grow brighter with our love. But don't assume that she is immune to the fourth child syndrome. We torment her as equally as we adore her--and we...

Vicbowin's school work came home last night with a small three page play she had written called "The Sweet Life of Meg & Kellci." (We'll discuss her creative spelling of Kellci later.) It is always a delight to see what she has created. Her writing voice is very strong (albeit untamed), so strong in fact that I think she will outstrip my abilities by the time she hits her teens. Already her teachers tell me how, when reading her papers, they can hear her speaking as if she were standing right next to them reciting the answers. The other strong trait of her writing is her perception of life. This is where the real fun of her work comes in. At nine years old she hardly understands the profundity of her words. She see's the world through some very clear lenses, but her age has yet to allow her the power to comprehend exactly what it is she is seeing. Back to the play she wrote--in Scene II Meg and Kellci are discussing what they wish they could have (and w...

In my religion we baptize our children at 8 years old. Generally this is a time of calm reflection and spirituality as we watch our beautiful next generation making the choice to serve and obey Jesus Christ. It's quite traditional for photos to be taken before the service where the parents and child stand before a painting of Christ. Typically this is how it works... unless of course you happen to be the parent of Albowin. Albowin: wonder boy extraordinaire, Dennis the Menace made flesh, human bouncing ball whose blood runs as rich as sugar. Albowin: anti-camera, pro-attention 8 year-old with a propensity towards utter silliness. I could tell you about how,on Friday last, I felt a swelling in my heart and how in that hour or so I knew, once more, that the Savior was real. I could tell you how, with my son's baptism, I remembered my own promises to the Lord. I could tell you those things, but they wouldn't be truthful. In truth I was at the very edge of sanity. I...

Today my kids are helping me with my blog post. There is absolutely no point to the title except that the Mischievite came up with it. Vicbowin What do you want to be when you grow up? I don't know, I haven't thought about it.   What is your favorite color? Turquoise How do you make bread? You make some dough and stick it in the oven.   Who's your best friend? Jenna.   What is gravity? Something that pulls you to the Earth and sucks you to the middle of it.   Where do babies come from? A mom's belly.   Where does electricity come from? An outlet in the wall.   How much does a house cost? A million dollars. What would you do with $100 dollars? I would buy everything in the world.   If you could go anywhere in the world to visit, where would you go? Australia. What is one new thing you would like to try this year? I want to practice dying.   What is one memory you have from this summer? Mosquitos.   If you...

To the tune of "Your Happy Birthday" Today is such a scary day my children are at home I'd really like to celebrate but they're at home with me Today is such a dreary day my children are all sick I'd really like to take a nap but they're all here with me Oh, Vicbowin's at 101* and Remewin's a mess. I'd really like to clean the house... Nah, I think I'll just go grab my book.

Last night was one of those long, interesting nights where things that don't tend to happen all happen at once. Take for example Vicbowin coming into my room at 11-ish to tell me she couldn't sleep. I got up to help her only to find her stripped down and shivering. 'Where are your clothes!?' I asked. 'They were wet,' came her half coherent reply. It didn't cross my mind why they would be wet, I just went to her drawers to find some more. She has one of those beds with the drawers underneath so I had to lean down to dig, as I did so I put my hand on her mattress and discovered that it too was wet--soaked actually. Shocked I asked, 'Did you wet your bed?' 'No.' She recoiled (groggily) at the thought. I lifted the blankets... it was all wet. 'Did you spill your drink?' 'No!' Clearly she wasn't awake, and clearly she had no recollection of what had happened. I let it slide and allowed her to climb into bed wit...

Vicbowin and Co. On Thursday, last, Vicobwin came home with the notion of making a lemonade stand. She was fairly determined to do it and since she's proven to be quite the little saleswoman I let her take the lead. I told her that we could do it on Labor Day when everyone would be at the park (across the street). So she set about making her sign and selling her product. On Sunday at church she informed all of her friends that she would be having one, and that they should all come. One of the boys suggested making cookies as well. So she decided to sell cookies as well. Her prices were a little higher than I was willing to let her charge (50 cents for a cup of lemonade, $1 for a cookie) so I made her drop them all by half... since, as the mom, I figured I knew what her target audience was willing to pay. On Monday morning we made the cookies, carefully not licking the spoons and set up her table out front. Vicbowin went out there with her current read--The Hobbit--an...

Today as the kids were getting ready Vicbowin asked one of her classic questions: "Mom, would you rather be stabbed in the stomach or in the brain?" --silence ensues-- "I don't know!" "Come on Mom." "Fine, umm... the stomach." "Why?" "Because if you're stabbed in the brain you're most likely to die or have some serious and lasting brain damage." That satisfied Vicbowin just fine, but then Albowin popped in and his response broke my heart. "I think I'd rather be stabbed in the brain." He said, matter of factly. Wondering if he understood what brain damage meant, I asked "Why?" "Because then I'd die and I want to die cause I don't like being alive." It wasn't even as if he was trying to get attention. It was the simple truth and I nearly cried. My baby boy is only 7 years old! Some days he worries me so much that I think I'll be physically ...

Another great story from our one year adventure in Montana concerns Ralexwin and not myself. As far as I can get out of him the story is that on one chilly autumn morning Ralexwin got the kids ready to take Vicbowin to Kindergarten. Since we only lived about 4 blocks from the school it was our habit to walk her there. Albowin, at all of four years old, insisted he didn't need a coat for the walk. Ralexwin said, "Fine, but if you're cold then you deal with it." Off they went... They made it one block. "Dad, I'm coooold!" Albowin exclaimed. Ralexwin was annoyed (as you can imagine). "Alright, go back to the house and I'll be there in a few minutes." Off Albowin trotted back to the warmth and safety of our little abode. While my husband took our oldest child the rest of the way. Upon his return to home he discovered one serious problem with his plans. Albowin wasn't in the house. Albowin wasn't anywhere to be seen! ...