happy birthday, thumb

(Thumb is the only of the Handful whose entire life is documented in photos of which I have digital copies, so we're going back to the beginning for this one.  This was the first time I held him, but I almost didn't include the picture because of that funny thing my hair is doing, but ultimately the Ring and Thumb preciousness helped me get over my hair hang-ups.)

Four years ago today, I was wearing yellow (don't ask me why) with hair that clearly wasn't behaving and hanging out in my favorite Lexington hospital meeting my freshly-hatched second nephew.  He wasn't quite as fresh as his sister (Ring) and brother (Pinkie) were when I met them, but that's because this little guy decided to be born in the wee hours of the morning, while I was staying at home with said sister and brother, who at not-quite-four and two weren't up for an all night hospital vigil.  Anyway later in the day, we were at the hospital, and the Popster told me to ask him how many grandkids he had.  I initially resisted, assuring him that I was well aware of the answer, but he insisted, and eventually I caved and asked with a complete lack of enthusiasm, "How many grandkids do you have?"

Almost before the last word left my mouth, he threw his giant hand up in my face, fingers splayed and proclaimed, "a hand-full."  And the collective nickname for my parents' grandchildren, my nieces and nephews, was born, birthed in that Lexington hospital just as much as Thumb was.

That's just one of the many things Thumb has done for us in his little life so far.  Four years is not very long in the grand scheme of things, but it mostly feels like we've had him for longer, that he's been around for much of our lives.  And that probably speaks to the way that his little personality and great big eyes have completed our family.

Thumb, whose eyes have changed from blue to green somewhere along the line, at his first, second, and third birthday parties.

I won't get to see and celebrate with Thumb until this weekend because he, like his brother, had the good sense to be born  near a three day weekend, so we always have his birthday party Memorial Day weekend, but while I wait, let me share with you, imaginary readers, the best of Thumb.

I present my five favorites of a four-year-old:

5.  The speech impediment.  I know it's not going to last--or at least it's not going to be cute indefinitely if it does last--but right now how Thumb talks and messes up sounds is so deliciously endearing.  I don't have any data to back me up on this, but it seems to me that Thumb might have the record for most/longest streak of mispronunciations of any of the Handful, which is only right I suppose considering that a few months ago he surpassed Pointer as having the longest streak as the "baby" of our family.  And truthfully, he's already grown out of so many of those sound substitutions, so I know this special little trait is one that I'll have to savor for now and remember with fondness for years to come.  Here's a ripped-from-real-life example of how Thumb's precious manner of speaking permeates our lives.  Thursday night I was at the hospital seeing Grams, and when I went to leave I asked if she was going to give me a kiss, and she turned me down.  In fact she told me that wasn't going to give me any "wugar," which is how Thumb says (or maybe used to say, as I think initial s's are finally within his grasp) sugar. When even your eighty-one year old great-grandmother who's been through so much lately she barely knows her name sometimes can remember and quote how adorably you say words, it's kind of a big deal.

4.  Another thing that I'm totally digging about the Thumb is his cuddliness.  Even though in so many ways (just wait, we'll talk about them) he's doing his best to grow up way too fast, Thumb is still the sweetest little, loving boy.  And he's pretty decent at spreading that love around.  I completely melt when he sticks his thumb in his mouth (yes, Thumb sucks his thumb--handy, isn't it?) and lays his sweet head down on my shoulder.  He's the best little snuggler, and I'm really crossing my fingers that he doesn't grown out of that one.

3.  This face.  It's more than the fact that he's possibly the most beautiful boy I've ever seen.  It's more than those ridiculous eyelashes or those giant green eyes or even the dimples.  It's how that little face conveys every single emotion without saying a word.  It's about the nods and blinks and grins, the pouts and the silly faces and the heart-breaking tears.  He's got maybe the most expressive face of anyone I've ever known.  Too bad for his daddy, but with that face, professional poker-playing is not in this boy's future.

2.  Despite the way we baby Thumb and the sweet way that he indulges us in that, he has always been an independent little soul.  He will fearlessly try to do anything that the big kids are doing, and "me too" has been an oft-repeated refrain around his house since he was able to talk.  If Ring and Pinkie can do it, then Thumb is convinced that he should be able to as well, no matter what.  Whether it's playing ball or doing homeschool work, Thumb is determined to run with the big boys, and I love the confidence and determination and single-mindedness that drive all those me-toos.  And of course, a big chunk of his desire to to be big is the fact that he adores his big brother and sister and cousins.

1.  When Thumb was a little baby, the grown-ups in our family were having a discussion about being funny.  Yes, we talk about being funny in our family quite a lot.  In this particular discussion we had two opposing theories.  Shane thought that based on the anecdotal evidence of the sibling groups we knew that second-born children are the funniest in their families.  I put forth the notion that it was actually youngest children, regardless of number.  I was using as my examples most of the same sibling groups as it seems most of the siblings groups we know are two-kid families.  The major point of disagreement was that Shane, as a second-born, considered himself the funniest of our siblings, and I, as the youngest, insisted that it was me.  I did have to agree that my moma, who is technically the second-born of three, is definitely the funniest of her siblings, but since she's a twin, she's only minutes away from being the youngest.  Shane then tried to use Pinkie, who was a hilarious two-year-old (and is still a very funny six-year-old), as the example to prove his point, but I maintained that we couldn't make that call until Thumb was older.  So I've been watching Thumb's comedic development with avid interest  And I'm proud to say (because it proves my theory) that I think he's the funniest of the three of them.  He teases and jokes and tricks and has been doing so since he could talk (though he couldn't manage it without that expressive face).  One of his specialties is keeping a funny thing going, like the time a very solemn and demure "me not know" was the only answer he would give to his Aunt Michelle, just for the sake of hilarious torture.  And I'd like to offer a friendly kick in the pants to the first person to laugh at "in myyyyy notebook," thus making it Thumb's longest-running and most adorable joke.  As we all should know by now, humor is my real love language, so this kiddo has me in the palm of his hand.

And as a bonus treat, I've got a video of Thumb doing what he does best:  being adorable.  Here for your pleasure, you get the voice (though he doesn't mispronounce anything too badly), the expressions, and a peek of that teasing humor.  Please pardon how loud I am and the ridiculous amount of background noise. Enjoy:

Happy birthday to my little Thumb.  Aunt Ellen is going to love all over you this weekend!

*****A late-breaking update:  Once again a Peep has just managed to ensure that I don't get to attend her child's birthday party.  Today is already Peep Amy's birthday (Happy Birthday!) and tomorrow is the 4th birthday of her Carter, so I already consistently miss their birthdays.  Earlier this afternoon, Peep Monica brought our newest little Weep into the world.  I'm not going to give you any more details because I don't know if they've fully announced it to everyone they want to know yet.  I'll come back and update it with pertinent info once I've got the all-clear.*****

stanley strikes again: another guest post

Faithful readers will remember that Flat Stanley graced us with a guest post here back in February.  Since that time he's traveled to other blogs and made some cameos on various facebook profiles, and today he's back again (well, not physically) to make a report on some of his other travels.  The blog is yours, Stanley:

So after I spent a fun and relaxing time visiting Nana and the Popster, Aunt Ellen, Uncle Shane, and Hailey, I was ready for some kid interaction again. That’s what led to what may have been the most dangerous adventure of my illustrious career‐‐spending a lot of time around . . . The Sandlins.

Things started off pretty calm. We ate lunch at Mac‐Mac’s house on a Sunday which is what her bunch of Sandlins usually do. They all had big people food, but Elijah was nice enough share with me a plate of smallish morsels which were more suitable to my unique digestive needs. After lunch we retired to the deck for dessert and a visit. I mostly watched Elijah eat. I think that he must have learned about the Last Supper at church that day, because he was practicing reclining at the table.  Rob‐Bob wasn’t reclining, but she was wearing clothes that looked suspiciously like pajamas so it was basically the same thing.

[Blogging failure's note:  There's a picture of this--Stanley in a chair, Elijah lying down eating, and Robyn wearing Razorback pajama pants--but technical difficulties prevent it from appearing here.  Sorry, Stanley--and Mac.]

Next, I went home with Mac and Jenni and their kids. Things were okay there to begin with, but then Jenni made me help cook supper. I even had to cut up the onions!! I was so afraid that I’d start crying and smear my face that I could barely keep the knife straight. Lucky for me, Jenni kept a close eye on me and made sure
that I was safe.

After that, I just sat around being bored for a couple of days. There was a lot of big talk about cool things that I might get to do, but you know how Mac is – long on talk and short on follow‐through. Eventually, we decided that I’d get to play Vikings with Elijah, and boy was I excited about that. It took about three or four days of shopping online for us to find just the right equipment for me. We got the helmet and battle ax right pretty easily, but Elijah was VERY picky about what my shield and armor ought to look like. Eventually, we settled on a round wooden shield with an authentic dragon design on it. Elijah says that the horns on my helmet are cow horns and that the brown part is made of leather with metal bands just like the toy one
that he has.

 [Random historical note: Did you know that Vikings didn’t really wear horns on their helmets? A painter invented that particular bit of fashion for them several hundred years later. Thanks Wikipedia!!]

Once I had all of my Viking gear on, Elijah tried to show me how to make a warrior face. Apparently Vikings did a great deal of growling and snarling and more than their fair share of screaming. I sort of wonder if Elijah and the rest of the Sandlins might be descended from the Vikings…

As usual, one friend or playmate was not enough for Elijah. He wasn’t really happy until his dad got in on the action too. Luckily, Mac’s basically a big kid, and he was more than happy to don his Viking helmet and take up his weapons for a rousing Nordic battle.

 After all of that violent rough‐housing, I decided that I needed a little break. I thought that playing house with Josie would be a nice change of pace. She let me cook a little in her singing kitchen, and we all sang along, “I like to eat red apples and yellow bananas, orange oranges and purple grapes, I like some colorful fruit, every
day, then I’m off to play!” Jenni told me that I was a welcome guest in her home but that she heard that silly song about six thousand times a day and was sick to death of it. I stopped singing immediately as I was afraid that she might make me chop the onions again.

 Luckily though, she had a better idea. She showed me a place where I felt right at
home.

Josie really liked playing house with me. We opened and closed the door and turned the porch light on and off. We looked through the windows and rang the bell. Jenni did a good job of making sure that Josie didn’t tear my arms off too. I was so grateful that I didn’t even sing any of the songs that the musical door liked to play.

Later on, the Sandlin crew was invited to a picnic at the Wisdoms’ house. I decided that I wanted to come along to meet Elijah’s friend Gabe and his parents, Mr. Jeff and Mrs. Nancy. Mr. Jeff is Mac’s best friend and he’s friends with Aunt Ellen and Uncle Shane too. He and Aunt Ellen used to eat lunch together in college and the days when Mr. Jeff and Aunt Ellen were both at the table were always especially hilarious.  At least that’s what they tell me. I also wanted to visit their house since it was the house that your mom and dad used to live in before you were born. Mac told me stories about going to Katelyn’s birthday party over there and watching her eat the cake when she was a baby. Elijah even took me back to her old room where Gabe lives now. I said that it was a nice place but that I would have liked it better if you had lived there.

[Technology fails again:  imagine you're seeing a really sweet picture of Elijah and Gabe and Stanley holding hands.]

Josie was playing on a toy piano, and Jenni told me that she’d love to hear me sing along with her. It turns out that she really loves my singing so long as I’m not doing cover songs off of the playschool toys greatest hits album. Between the bright colors of Mrs. Nancy’s kitchen and dining room and the way that Josie kept trying
wad me up, it was hard to concentrate on getting all the notes right and remembering all the words, but I managed. I even got a standing ovation!

Well, the picnic was great fun, but I wanted to see some more of what all went on at the Sandlin house from day to day. Since tax season was going on, Jenni spent a lot of her time filing returns. I got to help a little. We’ve made sure to remove any relevant information that might show up on the tax forms. We wouldn’t want Jenni to lose her job.

I was going to go to Harding to see Mac’s work, but things there got kind of crazy. It turns out that they’ve offered him an interview for a permanent teaching position in the Bible department, so he’s having to act extra professional right now. He said that he’d make it up to me, but I didn’t know what he had in mind.

At first, I was a little nervous when he said that I’d need my Viking helmet and ax. I wasn’t sure if I was up for all the yelling and snarling again so soon (though Elijah never seems to get tired of it). Luckily, this time I wasn’t doing anything as dangerous as playing with Elijah. I was only battling a host of vicious dragons.

I figured that I’d better attack the most dangerous dragon first, but the Night Fury was so fast that I couldn’t get to him in time. Instead, I smacked the Monstrous Nightmare across his nose with my ax. He fell to the ground with a howl of pain. I dodged the darts that the Deadly Nader shot from its tail and quickly tied the
Hideous Zippleback’s two heads together in a knot. Just then, the Night Fury flew back down. Being the nimble fellow that I am, and knowing that Night Furies can actually be quite friendly when treated right, I sprang onto his back and began flying through the air.

It was a pretty spectacular end to a long and exciting stay with the Sandlins.  As much fun as it was hanging out with the Sandlins, I’ve been sort of anxious to get home. I bet that you are missing me just as much as I’m missing you. So I’m climbing into my big envelope and coming home via the good ole’ USPS. I’ve got lots of souvenirs from my travels and lots of great memories. I can’t wait to see you and tell you all the details about my trip.
Your Pal,
Flat Stanley

happy birthday, bird

Eight years ago today in the wee hours of the morning, I was waiting for a phone call telling me that niece #2 had arrived.  I was keeping three-year-old Pointer and had put her to bed hours earlier, but Bird was being contrary and slow in making her appearance.  She finally arrived in the pre-dawn hours, and I got to meet this gorgeous girl a few hours later.  I've been in love with her ever since.

This year the Virginia-residing Bird celebrated turning eight in Kentucky at Nana's with an Arkansas Razorback-themed party.  All the moving in her little life has left her with a geographic-identity crisis, obviously.  But other than that little oddity, my girl is just about perfect.  Let me tell you my five favorite things about Bird.

5.  I'm not sure she'll approve of this or think it's a good option for a five-favorite list, but I love her voice.  Mispronunciations and substituting wrong sounds is a part of normal language development for all kids, and I can name any number of children who do so memorably and charmingly, but something about the way that Bird talks has always been sweet and special and endearing to me.  She used to pronounce sister as shishter, and it was possibly the most precious thing ever.  We made her repeat it endlessly in a manipulative and exploitative way.  She's long since mastered all of her sounds, but something about her voice and manner of speaking retains that sweetness.  When everything about her is entirely too big and grown-up, her voice connects me to the baby and toddler and little kiddo that she used to be, and I need that.  I am dreading the day when her voice grows up as much as the rest of her and loses that quality.

4. Bird is our little melting pot.  People have always said that she looks like her moma or sometimes her Aunt Ellen, but her personality can be (and has been) attributed to a host of other people.  She has her daddy's sense of humor, and I think he's the source of her adventurous creativity.  But she's also got Michelle's sensitivity and tender feelings when she's hurt.  The way that she reacts to people is a lot like Michelle too.  There are moments when she's exactly like her Nana (especially if she's being roughly affectionate), and I can see definite bits of her uncles in her stubborn determination or her competitive streak.  She's such a mixture of so many people that I love that I can't help but love that in her.  Some people have accused Bird of being like her Aunt Ellen, and I'd be lying if I said that wasn't another layer in loving who she is.

3.  My girl is a creative genius.  She can make just about anything.  From the time that she was three or four she was supplementing her dolls' wardrobes by creating outfits or accessories out of paper.  She's since moved up from paper to other mediums.  The last time that they moved she commandeered cardboard boxes for building projects, and one time recently when she was at Nana's, she started making weapons out of sticks.  She's got a fully functioning bow and arrow and now a gun that she created out of sticks and a few other odds and ends.  She recently decided that she wants to be an engineer when she grows up, but not a boring engineer like Uncle Josh.  When she gets it into her head that she needs something that she doesn't have, she just builds it--no matter how unlikely it should be that she can.  That determination to make anything she decides upon is a driving force in Bird's life.  She's always been the sort of girl who could accomplish anything once she sets her mind to it from learning to whistle to playing every sport available to building a sixty-three inch paper airplane.  The kid gets stuff done, and I dig it.

 2.  It's a close race at the moment, but any day now Bird is going to surpass me as the funniest person in our family.  And it's a fairly big deal that I love her humor enough to not become ridiculously competitive or pouty about that prospect.  If you know me at all, you've heard me brag before at her mad comedy skills.  She had a impressively-developed sense of comedic timing at age two.  I knew we had a prodigy on our hands when she changed song lyrics to make fun of her daddy when she was two or three (Will is famous for doing this).  Although in the past couple of years Bird might have relied more heavily on potty humor than is strictly necessary, she is completely hilarious.  She is a master of little kid goofy, but she also teases like a champ and holds her own in our family of comedians.  I know my imaginary readers are probably tired of reading about how funny my family is, but seriously, Bird is one of the best, and it can't be said or appreciated enough.

1.  I feel like I'm going to do an inadequate job of describing this last, best, most favorite thing about the Bird because it's kind of a complicated thing, but I'll do my best.  Bird doesn't love indiscriminately.  She doesn't suffer fools, and she is a bit more reserved in lavishing love and attention than some of us.  But when you've made her list and earned that love and attention, it's completely worth it.  She loves intensely and sincerely, and being on the receiving end of her heart is a feeling to be treasured.  It's a love strong enough to smother and sweet enough to make smothering seem appealing.  And the slight rarity of it, that comes with knowing that she's discerning in bestowing her affection, makes it that much more dear.

Happy birthday to my complicated baby girl.  Even though I saw you yesterday, I miss you already.

a guest post from flat stanley

There was a largish envelope in my mailbox when I got home Monday night.  Inside I found Stanley, who came from Bird by way of Nana.  So far he's been a delightful houseguest, and we've had such fun together, that I asked him if he'd share with my imaginary readers here all of our adventures.  He very politely accepted.  Take it away, Stanley:

Thanks, Aunt Ellen, it's great to be here with the loyal fans of the opinions.  And of course, I can't say enough nice things about the good time you've been showing me.

Monday night I came out of the mailbox so late I thought we'd probably just introduce ourselves and turn in for the night, but apparently Aunt Ellen keeps much later hours than Nana and Popa because she hadn't even had dinner yet.  She let me cut up some vegetables for a salad, and we even had an apple dumpling for dessert. 

 
Aunt Ellen has new bedding, and I got to be one of the first people to see it.  She even had a small pillow just right for me, but she still wasn't ready for sleep.

We read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix for a while.  We were very close to the end, so it was really exciting even if I didn't know exactly what was going on having missed the first 750 pages or so.

Her roommate Jess came home from work while we were reading, so I got to meet her.  She said I could call her Reginald, but I'm not sure why.

The next morning, I got to go to work with Aunt Ellen at the library.  Right off the bat, she got me set up with my own library card!  (I think she had to bend a few library rules to do that.  I hope she doesn't get in trouble.)







I got to play on the computer a bit--this cool computer has lots of games, and a touchscreen, but the headphones were really heavy for me.

I also got to meet the snowman I'd heard so much about.  What a nice guy!

 She let me pick out a book and showed me several books about my own adventures.

 

 I decided to read about the time I went to space, and Aunt Ellen helped me check the book out.

Back at her desk, she introduced me to some friends who were just my size.

Aunt Ellen does a lot of work at her computer, so I mostly just hung out and read.  She did have a class of kids come in to check out books from a nearby school, but she was so busy with them that I just stayed out of the way.

When we finally got home, I was worn out, so Aunt Ellen cooked dinner without me.  She let me have free rein of the remote while she was busy.  I watched the Disney channel, of course.









All day at work folks were talking about a big snowstorm that was supposed to hit on Wednesday morning, and we found out before bedtime that lots of schools and even the library had already decided to call a snow day, so we were excited to get to stay at home and have fun the next day.

Aunt Ellen says that she woke up and couldn't go back to sleep at 5:40 this morning, but she let me sleep in.  She woke me up around nine so we could have breakfast burritos.  I ate mine so fast she didn't even get a picture.  I promised I'd help her do dishes later if we could go out and play in the snow.  She was worried about me being too cold.  Nana made me a coat when I was in Kentucky because it was so cold, but I still needed some warmer gear, so Aunt Ellen made me a hat, scarf, boots, and mittens!  Isn't she a great aunt?

She was still a little worried about me, so she also wrapped me in plastic wrap.  It was a bit hard to breathe, but at least I stayed dry. 

 We set to work working on a snowman, and I wanted to make him flat like me.

 

Didn't we do a great job?  Aunt Ellen helped a lot, but Reginald just stood around mostly.

I also made a snow angel, which is harder to do you than you might think when you're flat.  It was still snowing and getting heavier.

Aunt Ellen and Reginald decided to take a walk up the street just to look around, but since the snow was nearly as tall as me in most places, Aunt Ellen left me to play safely on the porch.

It was really coming down out there!  We were soon ready to come inside, take off our wet things and warm up.  Aunt Ellen let me have hot chocolate with as many marshmallows as I wanted--and I wanted lots.

 We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon inside, so first we played some games of Uno.  I was just about to win when Aunt Ellen played the draw 4 wild card, but I was a good sport.

Later I wanted to do something crafty, so Aunt Ellen tried to teach me how to knit.  I started out doing all right, but then something went wrong.

Luckily Aunt Ellen managed to get me untangled.  She started getting sleepy in the afternoon.  I guess her early morning was catching up with her, so she let me play spider solitaire while she took a nap.  I think I improved her win percentage by quite a bit.  She needed the help for sure.

That's what we've been up to here.  I was worried that this post would be too boring compared to the clever, sophisticated posts that Aunt Ellen's readers are used to, but she assured me that people kept reading through those boring vacation diaries back in the fall, so I think we're safe.  It's been great to be here.  I secretly hope we get another snow day tomorrow, so Aunt Ellen and I can have even more fun together!  If the roads clear up, she's threatening to take me to Uncle Shane's.  Thanks for reading!

And thank you, Flat Stanley for your guest appearance.  Good luck in your travels.