Best Dad Ever

meet the sweetness

I’ve been hesitant to write this or say this out loud for fear of jinxing us.  But I’m going to do it.  

Grace has exited the terrible twos.  

People, her twos were terrible.  Thank you to my dear friends who didn’t judge me but prayed for me as I cried and cried in a mall play place because I just couldn’t bear to face another day of it.  I am thankful for the phase teaching me to rely on Jesus to redeem all of mistakes and to prepare me for the extraordinary high maintenance parenting that is in my future.  The long and short of it is that I just cannot self-produce love and Grace’s terrible twos helped to completely dash that illusion. 

If nothing else, Grace’s “terrible two” phase taught me that it’s not just Lent that is for repentance.  Because I had to repent every.single.day for the way I was impatient, exasperated, and just all around hard-hearted with her.  And still, God and the girl love me. 

Ever since Thanksgiving, she has softened.  It is as though we are getting to meet our daughter for the first time and we adore her.  We get to meet the soft and kind and spunky girly-girl that her preschool teachers kept telling us about, rather than the tiny terrorist that once sat at our kitchen table.

So allow me to re-introduce you to our daughter.

This girl loves her Daddy.  She wants to sit by him at every meal and adores bounding into our room in the morning to give him his wake-up snuggles.  But she also adores me.  Beyond explanation.  Apparently all those times I lost my temper while sitting with her on the steps didn’t scar her.  She cradles my face and tells me she loves me, she really loves me.

She loves to sing and bounce.  In particular, she loves Hip Hop music.  I’m embarrassed to confess that if she asks about Beauty and the Beast, she isn’t referring to Belle and the Disney Classic.  She is requesting Justin Beiber.  She also requests “Tay-bor Wift”, “Kesha”, and “Twift Pop”.  She has, on more than one occasion, had a full on temper tantrum because I could not find “Juttin Beeeeeeeeeeber” on the radio.  At some point, I’m going to have to break down and download some of her faves.  I also may have taught my kids that Britney is singing “Britney Ditch.”  Just play along.  

She has never seen a musical she doesn’t love.  Her current favorite is the Wizard of Oz and she is usually singing “Oh ee oh, yo um” or chanting “Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh my!”

She continues to be a picky eater.  We’ve stopped fighting her on this and are just resigned to the fact that she may only eat breakfast some days.  She would prefer to only eat carbs and dairy.  Oh, and bacon.

 

She was super easy to potty train.  Two days after we made the plunge to panties, Sloan and I put together the boys’ bunk beds (meaning we ignored the kids all day long).  No potty accidents.  She even forgets to asks for a treat sometimes and has woken up with dry pull-ups on many occasions.  I assure you that we have done nothing unique for this.  She is just independent. 

She can dress herself, brush her own teeth, sloppily make her bed, and is all around very helprful.  Not in that “oh we will let our three year old help to instill a work ethic even though it adds hours to the process”, but actually helpful.  She can vacuum, dust, straighten pillows, empty the dishwasher, fold napkins and blankets, bring in groceries, push the little grocery cart without killing anyone and even help Henry get dressed.  She even attempts to pour her own milk.  This, um, is NOT actually helpful.

While I didn’t want to confess it, I’m certain that part of the delays in our adoption journey were to give Grace time to mature a bit and to teach me that I can rely on Jesus to do his work in our children’s lives. 

Thank you Jesus for using my stubborn daughter on my stubborn heart.  Please continue.

Happy Easter!

If you don't want to see a bunch of photos of my adorable children, then you should probably skip this post.  

 Our little bunny who got her face painted at our neighborhood's egg hunt.

Bucketheads!

Surveying the loot!

I have chocolate!

2nd Annual Cousin Egg Hunt at my sister's house!  (aka how we get the kids out of the house while the meal is being prepared!)

 

 I just love this picture.  Taken by my very talented niece, Rachel.

This year's Easter was sponsored by seersucker. 

Obligatory Snow Picture

On Sunday, it started snowing.  It was pretty lame.  My friend Ali described it as "high school production snow".  But, around 7 o'clock, it started kicking in for reals.  Sticking to everything and accumulating nicely.  Which was shocking, because literally just the day before my daughter was running around and playing outside in her bare feet.  (Clearly, I need a third child because I have SUCH control over the two I have.  Ahem.)

As it began to fall in thick flakes,  I felt a little like the bad Mommy as facebook became littered with pics of kids in the snow in the dark.  But the kids go to bed at 7 and well, well, Sloan was out of town and I may or may not have had some Downton Abbey to watch. 

The next morning, Henry was so excited it had snowed.  He began panting, "Ok.  We are first going to have some hugs.  Then we are going to go outside and play in the snow.  Then we will come back in and have chocolate milk and cookies and hug some more.  Then we will go in the snow and go sledding and make snowballs and a snow fort and a snow man.  Then we'll come back inside for more chocolate and hugs.  Then sledding again!  Then we will watch a movie in our pajamas and I will wear my robe."   I was suddenly preparing breakfast for Buddy the Elf.

I replied, "Umm...I'm cool with most of that plan.  I like the way you think.  But that's an awful lot of coming in and out and snow makes your clothes wet and a big mess and we already have a lot of dirty laundry.  So here is what we are going to do.  Hugs.  Then chocolate milk.  Then we will go outside and play.  There's not enough snow for a fort or a snowman, (ok, there was...but Henry helps for maybe three minutes and then I'm left there peeved because my snowman is ugly) but we can sled some in the backyard. And we can play on the slide and make snow angels and ride the shuttle boards and be silly.  We will stay outside for as long as you want.  But when we come in, we are in for the morning.  Because the clothes will be wet and muddy (oh, did I fail to mention that by 8am, it already sounded as though it was raining because of how quickly it was melting?).  And when we come inside, we can have more chocolate and more hugs and yes, you can wear your pajamas ALL DAY LONG and even your red robe and we can watch a movie.  It is Gracie's turn to pick the movie."

So that, my friends, is how we found ourselves in our pajamas watching Wall-E and drinking chocolate milk for the better part of yesterday. 

The Greatest Show on Earth

This post will not be about how much I loved the 1950s classic movie starring Charlton Heston.  (Note to self:  rent this movie for the next time Sloan goes out of town.)

THIS post is about the most recent Phillips Family Fun Friday.

I began the morning with a little psychiatric testing.  (Because that's how all good days begin.)  In case you've never gotten to take the MMPI, it is basically a scientific personality test that will tell China if I have anger issues or whatever.  It is close to 600 true or false statements ranging from the ridiculous ("I am uncomfortable left alone in a room with broccolli") to the checking to see if you are a liar ("I never get in arguments with members of my family") to the awkward ("I never think about sex when I am in the bathroom") to the random ("I enjoy mechanical magazines.")  Oh, and did I mention that the psychologist who did my intake session and test and will write up our personality reports gets paid three digits per hour?  Awesome.

Phillips Family Fun Fridays are rarely cheap.

But they are ALWAYS awesome.

Because when we go out, we go big and then we go home.

We don't just go to the circus, we get front row seats to the circus.  ( They were Daddy's birthday/Valentine's gift from the kids and me).

The front row seats were great because then the kids could stand up and not bother the folks in front of us.  And to give you an idea of how close we were to the action, here is a picture of the circus band.  And no, I was not zoomed in.

Henry's favorite part was the motorcyles.

Yeah, that's a motorcycle on a wire with two ladies dangling from it.  And yes, it was basically right above our heads.

And that's eight guys on motorcycles in the ball of death.  Or maybe it was ball of steel.

Gracie's favorite part was the elephants.

Sloan's favorite part was the lions and tigers.  Meanwhile, I was longing for days of Gunther Gabel-Williams.  (No YOU wrote him fan mail when you were a kid...)

And my favorite part was the trapeze act.

All in all, it was a great day.  One we hope to make an annual family tradition.

I would also like to give a shout out to Ringling Brothers.  I'm fairly certain its performers are far more ethnically diverse than when I was a kid.  I think it was a pretty pale show back in the eighties, with mostly caucasian performers.  They now not only have an African-American ring master (who rocked his sequins so well that I'm sure even Rod Roddy would be jealous), an African-American cowboy, as well as many Latino, Asian, in addition to your standard Eastern European circus performers.  Pretty much every tongue, nation, and tribe was represented.  What a treat it was for gaggles of kids to see and want to be when they grow up folks of every ethnicity.  Now, if you could stop charging $12 for a bag of cotton candy, you'd really have my heart...

Why We Aren’t Sending Out Christmas Cards

If you’ve ever received a Christmas card from our family, you’ll agree with me that they pretty much are the best cards you hang on your wall.  I mean, they are so awesome that some people keep them on their fridge year round.  

Here is the photo we used our first year of marriage.  

For reals.  We got married in August, but I had the foresight to pack a Santa hat in my wedding bag.  That’s the kind of crazy brilliant I am.

And this was last year’s card.  

 

Which is pretty much impossible to beat.  Ever.  The writing on the card was even in lime green. 

This year, I had grand plans to out-do last year’s card.  I  picked out adorable outfits in  navy and black, with pops of red.  Sloan’s Gamecock critter pants were going to be featured.  I selected a gorgeous spot in my parent’s backyard (because they have professional landscapers and we have a mud-pit littered with Little Tykes cars).  I lined up my teenage niece to take the photo as she has a super duper DSLR and is a budding photographer.  

But somehow, in the insanity that was the Thanksgiving holiday at my parents’ house, we never got to take the picture.  We attempted to get a pic by my father-in-law in my in-law’s back yard.  But a) that yard is an explosion of my father-in-law’s extensive bonsai tree collection, b) my in-laws don’t make the silly “look at the camera” noises and faces, so we got a pic of Henry picking his nose and the back of Gracie’s head and then the back of Henry’s head and Gracie picking her nose, and c) I had clearly chosen the wrong option of the three packed that matched the color scheme. Additionally, any person with a brain will tell you that noon is just about the worst time to take an outside photo ever. 

So I’ve been scrambling to find photos for the card.  And it has stressed me out.  Because once I have the photos, then I’ll have to select the card, and at this point, probably pay for fast shipping so I’ll still have time to stuff and address them and then pay half a dollar to send them to you.  And because of our large families and Sloan’s work connections, we usually send out 150 cards.  So it is not an inexpensive endeavor.  And I just can’t seem to rationalize spending $300 or so when that money could be used to bring my kid home from an orphanage.

I asked myself, why am I doing this? Am I sending out a card so that I can say to everyone “Joy to the World, the Lord is Come!  Let earth receive her King!”?  Or am I sending it out so that I can say, “Hey everybody!  Come see how good I look?”  

I must confess, my answer was the latter.  (Oh, and I also want you to see my blog address and follow me on Twitter because I confuse social media stats with my identity as well.)  

It’s a hard pill to swallow.  Because I have a little stack of Phillips family Christmas cards that I’m really proud of.  I mean, how awesome was the one that read “We’re tickled pink this Christmas” as we announced Grace’s arrival into our family?  (That year’s color scheme was pink, cranberry, and green with black and white photos.)  It is clear to me that a considerable chunk of my identity was wrapped up in the awesomeness of our Christmas card.  That is just dumb.  Dumb and sinful.  

So instead, we will attempt to get a good picture of the family this season so that we at least have a family photo this year.  And I can print it out and put it in the stack.  And I’ll post it here, on Facebook, and Twitter in order to wish you a Holly, Jolly Christmas and to say "Let every heart prepare Him room."  But don’t expect one in the mail from us this year.  We will instead be donating $300 to our own adoption fund.  (Which you can too, if you follow the link on the right sidebar.)

That being said, upon the arrival of P3 (aka, the third Phillips kid),  just know I’ve already contacted a professional photographer to do new family portraits.  And we will be really, really, good looking.  We’ll probably wear casual outfits that coordinate but aren’t too matchy-matchy and pose by something quirky and random like a train station or a giant field of weeds at sundown.  We will be laughing in our sweaters.  You will look at our multi-ethnic family, in navy, black and red, and you will think, “Wow.  Who knew “On earth as it is in Heaven” looked a whole lot like a Benetton ad? The wonders of His love, indeed.”

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

I use the dining room as my office.

Gracie prefers a cubicle in the family room.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Signs you don't want to eat that cookie: 

A.  It has been iced by a four year old boy. 

B.  Note finger placement of cookie decorator.

C.  The cookie has been decorated in such a manner that it is clear he is wearing a wife beater.

D.  Again, note the nose picking.

Train Day

Last weekend we went to Ashlan's 9th Annual Train Day.  I highly recommend it for anyone in the Richmond area.  Ashland is a small town that the train tracks bisect, so in addition to the train tables and stories at the library, trolley rides around town, multiple model and lego train displays,  and general fall fair activities, every 20 minutes or so an actual train choo-choos its way through the entire affair.  

I had high hopes for the day and left trying to convince Sloan we needed to move to Ashland.  He reminded me it was probably 20 minutes to the nearest Target and that perhaps in addition to a fantasy where I'm really fancy, I also have a false self that is rural, rustic, and bakes bread.  I added that in the rural fantasy I also drive a big red pick up truck, only wear long dresses and wellies, and that similar to the fancy fantasy, I am thin.  Without even trying.  Or perhaps it is from all the organic farming I'm doing. 

Anywho...it was a blast.  It is certainly going to become a Phillips family tradition and perhaps a future destination for one on one Henry lunch dates.  

My boys.  You know, standing on the train tracks.  

The train!  The train!

It's really LOUD MOMMY!!!

 We're riding in the train car thing Mommy!  What's this called?  

I don't know; train car thing sounds good to me.

The kids played in the library with the train tables while my darling husband waited in line for 45 minutes so we could ride the tractor train ride.  

Thank goodness it was only a short wait for the giant Train inflatable.

We brought some Halloween candy for snacks.  (Or lunch.)

Some of the Lego trains.  It was a Harry Potter theme.  (Notice the Knight Bus.)  

It breaks my heart to think that P3 (yes, that's for the Phillips' 3rd kid) most likely won't be here in time to join us for the 10th Annual Ashland Train Day. 

Halloween by Instagram

I love instagram.  It helps my Iphone pics look good (thereby making it okay that I hardly remember to take the expensive Nikon with us anywhere).  If you want, you can follow me on Instagram:  I'm EJPhillips.  

Ah, the pumpkins.  

In a parent's mind, this is such a fun family activity.  In reality, it holds a preschooler's attention for about 30 seconds. And I'd have better luck asking my kids to touch fire than to touch the goopy innards of the pumpkin.  Probably because their father gags several times as he scrapes it out. So instead of it being something that everyone enjoys, it becomes an exercise in teaching your child how to micromanage.  And, in our case, an exercise in Mommy being okay with cutting out a Jack-O-Lantern face EXACTLY how the 4 year old drew it, not matter that it's all scrunched up in the middle of the pumpkin.  I also ended up painting the last two pumpkins because I was just tired of carving.  And one of them looks like an easter egg.

Or as I like to call it, Failed Pinterest Project.

Calling All Super Readers!

Henry picked out his costume last November 1st.  Most 4-year-olds are capricious by nature.  Not Henry; he is methodical.  So when he says that he wants to be Super Why in a year, I believed him.  He never wavered. So I knew I was going to end up like this:

Yeah, I'm Wonder Red and Sloan is Alpha Pig.  The bummer about being Super Why for Halloween is that it is an obscure PBS cartoon, so unless you currently have a preschooler, you don't know it.  So we spent the entire Trunk and Treat explaining that he wasn't the green lantern and that she was more than just a princess.  That Henry had the power to read, Gracie the power to spell, Daddy had alphabet power, and that, fittingly, I had Word Power.  And when you have to explain your costume, it kinda detracts from its awesomeness.  As does having to periodically drain the condensation from your pig nose.  It also does not add to the cool factor if you are doubled up and trying not to pee your pants because your spouse has issues with his snout sweat.

Super Why on parade at school.  Cutest. Thing.  Ever.  My boy was even excited this year to go into the middle and do the "Hooky Spooky."

And because the roof opened up and it rained buckets, I got no photos of us actually trick or treating.  But it was great.  Each kid was armed with their flashlight and bucket, while Sloan and I tried to cover them with the umbrellas.  Part of the time we used the double stroller, but we ended up ditching it at a neighbor's house.  Despite the rain, we still trick or treated for about an hour.  I wanted to stay out longer, but Sloan made us come in when Henry was literally crying and begging to go home because he was wet and f-f-freeeeeezing.  I may or may not have called them all babies.  I may or may not have said, "We're the Phillips family!  We go big or go home!"  To which Sloan said, "Yes, we'd like to go home now."  

Then came home and watched a Spooky Thomas and ate some candy.  I tried to explain that we were supposed to watch Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin, but this notion also made my son cry.  I may or may not have said, "Well, just so you know, this Thomas thing isn't gonna fly next year, because you are supposed to watch the Great Pumpkin while you eat your candy after trick or treating.  It's just what you do.  It's tradition."

The stash.  And the Phillips family rule is the house gets 10%.  And also, don't be too shocked when you find that Santa often "shops" for candy in the leftovers of kids trick or treat buckets.

Why I Love Fall (also Photographic Evidence that I'm a Really Good Parent seasonally)

I love Fall because I don't have to shave my legs as often.

I love Fall because of three words: Pumpkin Spice Latte.

I love Fall because orange and brown and red look fabulous on me.  

I love Fall because I love college football.  

I love Fall because the air is crisp and I can finally wear a jacket.

I love Fall because it starts to get dark earlier and I can convince my kids it is bedtime an hour earlier.

But mainly, I love Fall because Fall weekends mean festivities.  It is pretty easy to be a good parent in the Fall.  Saturdays are full of free carnivals replete with snow cones and bounce houses.  Oh, and did I mention that I love Fall because of all the candy?  Cause I love candy, too.

So here...in no certain order, is photographic evidence for my children that I'm a fun parent (at least for one season) and that I love them (all the time, but sometimes Mommy just can't sit outside when it is 90 degrees outside or she will melt and she can't breathe in the Spring).

  Field Day of the Past.  You know, where there are roller coasters and pony rides, tractor pulls, and dump trucks full of corn.  And also where they have historical displays of things from days gone by--like wagons, tee-pees, and typewriters.

 

Miniature train displays at the NC Transportation Museum when we went to a Day out with Thomas.  Why we got no pics with the actual Thomas train detracts from my good parenting as I was too lazy to wait in the line when it was raining.  Also, I may have been stressed out from yelling at my husband for being unable to read my mind.  But clearly, I am a fun mom who takes her kids fun (and educational!) places.

The State Fair of Virginia.  I'm fairly certain that our 18 hours in 2 days visit to the State Fair qualifies us for some type of parenting award.  I mean, I didn't even let my shoes falling apart ruin our fun.  For realz, yo.

And then there was the weekend leading up to my surgery where I was a REALLY fun parent.  All of the following pics took place on the same weekend.  It's gonna blow your mind.

FRIDAY NIGHT:

3rd Annual cookout in our driveway for the Monacan High School Homecoming Parade.

 The Crowd:  The Perrys and their neighbors, us, and the Longs.

 The parade.  Yeah, at the end of our driveway.

The adorable candy catchers: from L-R: Nathan, Anna holding Emily, Abigail, Cooper, Gunner, Henry, Gracie, and Katherine.  (Katherine clearly is too cool for parades in her bucket seat.  We'll give it time.)

SATURDAY:

And because a weekend is not complete without two parades:

I give you the Midlothian Day Parade and Festival.

And because we're fools popular, we followed up the parade with a Monkey Joe's birthday party.

SUNDAY:

After church, we of course went to Chesterfield Berry Farm, where we picked pumpkins, panned for gems, played in more corn, rode the barrel train, shot paint guns, and played king of the mountain.

 (Because nothing says I'm a good parent quite like a 4 year old with a weapon.)

Are you tired yet?  

This weekend is perhaps why I was so looking forward to the time off my surgery afforded me.  Because nothing helps you nap quite like anesthesia...

Grace's birthday.  Outside our traditional Dunkin Donuts birthday breakfast.  

Opening her sit and spin.

Stoked about her scooter.  

The time we learned that Gracie is afraid of candles on cakes combined with people singing to her.  

So like any good parent, I took one for the team and ate the cake myself while letting the birthday girl eat as many Oreos as she wanted. 

And then this past weekend, we also had her Very Hungry Caterpillar birthday.  I'll post about that later.  I'm kinda overwhelmed by my parenting awesomeness.  And also, the two Thomas shows that I allowed Henry to watch while I did this post are over.  So I gotta get back to the actual parenting.