Sisters, My Sisters

I got my wish. These little feet that walked out the door in March regularly walk back in.

In the most peculiar of relationships, we are a family still. "We" in this instance includes Big Sister, Little Sister, their parent and stepparent, their step siblings, occasionally a gramma or grampa, any kid that's currently in my house, and me.

People think it's a bit unusual that we all hang out together still, that I spend time with the sisters every other weekend, and that they occasionally spend the night. They still call me Mommy. Big still reminds me that I am the best mommy in the world, and Little still refuses to have her feet touch the ground when I am around.

I wholeheartedly agree. Peculiar is a word for it. But it's working for us all.

I am enjoying watching them grow still. Today, Little Sister is the exact age Big was when they arrived. It has been invaluable for me to see them flourish in a place that I didn't want them to go. And I think it has been nice for the girls and their family to have someone who can remind them of things that they did or said in the 15 months they were here. Like regularly wearing "leg warmers" aka "rainbow slinkies" on their legs.

Last weekend, I had all five kiddos. My new three and my old two. It was a whirlwind of 24 hours, but was so so fun. Looking forward to many more of these weekends.

Imelda in the Making

There's a small girl here with a big problem.

What to wear, what to wear?

These are allllll hand-me-downs. We didn't even have to go shopping. When her feet grow a bit, there are twice as many in the next size up.

We could have a shoe monster in training on our hands.

Freeze Frame

My kids are frozen in time. Tiny will always be an almost two-year-old, Glamour Girl, four. Kids from way back when, like the first blond brother or Miss Sassafras, will never be tweens or teens in my mind, even though they are by now.

What has me this week is that the new 5 year old's birthday is one day after Little Guy's. But when Little Guy left, he was three. Surely, he can't be five?

It's strange to think that the little quiet thing who followed me around watering plants, who merged into a noisy little thing who liked girly magazines, could now be playing legos and trying to ride a two wheeler.  In the same way, it's hard to envision that the current dude was once that small and maybe doing similar two year old things.

In another life, I'd like to have a reunion. Just me and 25 kids at their current age. They'd all sit around and talk about which was the favorite park that time or what their favorite Sea World show was and how many times their foster mother served them chicken nuggets or pbj for dinner. And I could just sit back, watching, thinking that I knew them when...

Five!

I'm not sure it'd be anyone's top list to move into a new home five days before a birthday, but we made the best of it.

The requests were Spiderman cake AND cupcakes, a present, and a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.  Easy enough.  Daycare got the cupcakes, we got the big cake, he got the presents and like it or not, we all got to spend time at Chuck E. Cheese. The birthday boy was content to "play" video games without tokens (no, people, I was not refusing to give him tokens...he just didn't WANT them most of the time). We were lucky enough to have someone the kids knew before moving here join us at Chuck E. Cheese and to have the next door neighbors come over to sing and have cake.

All in all, it seemed like a good birthday. I can only hope that when he looks back at things, the thought is more on the side of "That was a fun day!" rather than "That reminds me of when I moved."  It doesn't hurt to hope there, right?

As a side note, I am thoroughly enjoying a five year old in the house. It's been over two years since Curly left. Since then, a parade of kids three and under have come and gone. I've forgotten what it's like to have a long(ish) conversation, a kid who can clear his own plate and choose his own clothing, and who might spend over an hour at the table intently working on something like this:

Happy Birthday to my new lego-loving boy!

Boys

I imagine mine is not the only household to have such an exchange.

Me: Go get your pajamas and underwear to get in the shower please.
Me: Where's your underwear?
Him: Right here.
Me: Those are your pajamas. Where are your underpants?
Him: *blank stare*
Me: Dude, where are your underpants?
Him: I'm WEARING THEM!!!
Me: I mean the clean ones.
Him: Oh.

Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Program

Five months is a long time. It's time enough to mourn the Fab Four, pack, move, paint, paint some more, spend some time with the Sisters, read some books (more than one in a few months even!), get bored, get really bored, miss being a mom more than I imagined possible, and get more kids.

It's also time to NOT eat mac and cheese, cook very often, change any diapers, clean the house regularly, do a zillion loads of laundry each week, or have to haul someone out of Target screaming.

But now we're back. And by "we" I mean "three plus me". Wednesday brought a 26 month old late night surprise. Yesterday brought an almost five year old and his 23 month old sister. So far we are all figuring each other out. The playroom has been broken in. The double stroller back in use.  And the rounds to various playgrounds have already begun.

Welcoming 23, 24, and 25 for as long as they need to stick around.