Emmeline is the boss and other random facts

Emma and Grandma Judy on a walk

I'm going to blame Blogger going and reformatting how we post blogs for the lack of posts lately.  I have a few drafts, but it took me a while to get the hang of inserting pics.  Good thing I never claimed to be a diligent blogger who records everything--it's doubtful that you'll ever hear about Christmas 2011.  Not that it was a bad Christmas, just one that I didn't attempt to record.

Yesterday, I picked up Emma from Kids' Club at the gym, and my friend said, "I didn't know Emma could talk."  I replied she doesn't really...she mostly speaks in inflections.  My mom is better at understanding them than I am. Her favorite inflections is, "What is that?"

My friend said, "Oh, I heard her telling a baby to go."  And, then, I realized Emma does have a few words.  Her favorites being, "No, Mine, Go." She continues to call her dad, "Nate," and unfortunately, she's mastered the inflection I use when I'm irritated with Nate--wait, not that I'm ever irritated with Nate.

Emma finished with her walk

She hates the car, and that's totally my fault.  She's so much easier to take out than her toddler brothers were that I do 3-4 errands at a time.  I never dared to do more than one or two with Asher and/or Luke.

And, I love the fact that when I say, "Don't, that will hurt," or "Hot!" or "Be careful!" she's the first kid I've ever had who actually thinks I might be telling the truth.

Mom, I Have a Good Idea...

Since Christmas when Luke started creating "Santa traps" (don't worry, I just need to get down the string for his "Easter Bunny traps" and take a picture so you'll know what these look like), Luke often comes up to Nate or me and says, "Mom (or Dad), I have a good idea..."

...and then, proceeds to tell us some creative solution to a Lukey problem, like:
Mom, I have a good idea.  Let's get a seesaw, you can put me on one end and jump really hard.  That will shoot me over to Walter's house.

Dear Dad

This is why I hate moonsand.

This is an email Luke had me type to Nate on Friday (we're trying to loose the nighttime pull-up):

Dear Dad,

I won't pee in my pants anymore. I will go to the potty right away, and this is so I can get a movie or Hot Wheels, or a doughnut, or go to Old McDonald's or get an ice cream all the way to the top or to the zoo (Mom, type "toooo the, the, zoo.").

And, I will get something with the Friday, Saturday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, and Saturday, and Mom and Dad are going to tape it up to the wall.

I will put stickers on the other days, there and there and there.

Dear Dad, and I will do underwear until I say.
Love,
Luke

Asher and bad boys

Look! We did a craft together.

This morning, Luke brought Asher his school picture and said, "Asher, which ones are the bad boys in your class?"

Asher's response was, "There aren't any bad boys in my class," which he said with simple conviction. 

This probably means that I need to work on my judgmental attitude because I thought of two as soon as Luke asked (including the one who punched Asher in the stomach).