Where do the hours go?

I'm currently staying at home with my children; some would say I'm a SAHM. Ugh, how I squirm with discomfort under that label. Not that I have any problem whatsoever with other stay-at-home-moms. How great, how lucky for them, the world needs some, etc. I just struggle with the notion of myself in that role and that role only. Wasn't I supposed to be doing something more significant? Something affecting the lives of more than just three or four (depending on who you count) people? And then what about the fact that I feel like I'm not even doing it right. Sure I've incorporated a new point system in the last few weeks, made some posters with behavioral does and don'ts to put up around the house and even managed to wipe the weeks' worth (yes that apostrophe is appropriately placed) toothpaste off the boys' bathroom counter and sink and mirror this evening, but then I realize I haven't been reading to them at all during the day. Yes, we've made it to the library and no, they haven't been watching hardly any TV (thanks in a large part to Grandpa Robert's new clubhouse he built for them), but come on, how hard is it to read a book each day? Poor middle child is getting screwed out of the same literature-rich routine that #1 had. Probably why number one is reading five chapter books at once right now, all well above grade level. God only know what will happen to the little guy. But it IS hard, believe it or not. It's a constant fast-paced dance all day just to get from one task to the next. Get 'em up, get 'em dressed, get 'em out the door at two different times to different schools, naptime for E, lunch for E (I've heard of moms reading tightly babies in the highchair; I'm too busy trying to find food he'll like, feed myself and clean up the mess as we go), diaper change, off to pick up #2 from school, a quick errand or a leisurely walk to Edison, pick up #3, home again home again..., some lesson or activity, naptime number two for Mr. E, connect with the boys about chores or whatever and before I know it it's time to cook dinner and we're already behind schedule if we want to manage baths and getting them in be by 8 for storytime, which then gets dragged out because of obnoxious behavior and a lack of cooperation and suddenly that doomed middle child is getting a super-quick five-minute book that is way too young for him and I put him to bed realizing he hasn't had a good snuggle story time in days! I don't know how to do it all. And sometimes it seems like the most important stuff doesn't happen and yet, what to cut out? That's all important stuff too. Maybe this is the challenge of life with three.

How do I get these darn shoes on?

Cary put Ezra down on our bedroom floor for a moment with his little Robeez shoes next to him to finish getting him dressed. He left the room for a moment and wondered why Ezra got so frustrated. I could even hear him howling from downstairs. Was he just tired? Or not wanting to be put down? Cary returned to find him sitting on the floor with his knee up and his foot stomping on the little slipper, howling as he couldn't figure out how to get them on.

Five point restraint vs. Ezra 'Houdini' Lieberman

Up until now I haven't questioned my choice to put Ezra in the high chair with some Os and sneak into the bathroom for a minute. The only possible danger was in choking, or so I thought. But that wasn't enough to make me worry since he's long been such a competent eater. Then yesterday Noah screamed for me from the kitchen when he discovered that Ezra had wriggled his way out of the five-point restraint safety seatbelt and was standing upright and backwards in the highchair, laughing, of course. True, the tray wasn't on at the moment, but really, would that have made a difference? I've since cinched down the straps even more.

Tinker toys aren't just for bigger boys

Ezra absolutely loves playing with tinker toys or anything that he can out one piece into another piece. The marble run pieces (sans marbles) also provide endless entertainment. He puts things in the tubes or puts the sticks in the holes or whatever. He seems very mechanically inclined already.

The thrill of the toilet paper roll

And so it begins all over again. Here's to another two years of unrolled toilet paper. Maybe we'll get lucky and Ezra will outgrow the habit earlier than his brothers did.

I'm 1

That means I can feed myself, right? He did a pretty good job with the cup and spoon for a few minutes until it all fell apart. He had yogurt in his eyelashes. Oh my.

2nd grade already?

How did we get here so fast?