Thursday, March 21, 2013

Ryan the Lion

So I am going to end my little "series" and then move the heck on.
I mean we have been talking about my kids for like a month.
It is time to refocus on what this blog is really about ... me.
So last but certainly not least is my girlie.
The first-born of my womb.
I once heard someone compare their first child to the first pancake.
They are the "experimental" pancake. 
This is true to some extent, but unlike my first pancakes, Ryan does not belong in the trash.
She is bright, attentive, creative, and a good helper.
She is a sweet sister and obeys everyone else me most of the time.
She excels at school and makes friends easily.
She loves kindergarten. Her classmates' examples have done wonders for her once cooperative attitude.
Apparently sassiness is the new polite.
And I hear that this behavior will only blossom.
I can't wait.
But honestly, we can't blame all her bugging on the public school system.
She is, after all, related to Scott and myself.
She is emotional and dramatic.
So basically she is Scott and I in a little girl body.
And just to clarify, Scott and I are both emotional and dramatic. Equally.
She is a perfectionist.
And a hoarder.
She saves every single thing that has ever come into her possession. I hate it.
I am constantly sneaking things into the garbage and then quickly taking the trash out before she digs through it to find all her tossed-out "treasures."
She has also decided that she wants to be a singer.
Because, and I quote, "Singing is my life."
She knows all the words to every Top 40 song playing with any regularity on the radio.
Which is slightly inappropriate for a small child.
Have you heard the song "Scream and Shout" by Britney Spears or "Whistle" by Flo Rida?
I cannot reiterate enough what a good mother I am.
Anyway, back to the sinful music (which thankfully she doesn't really understand).
She belts them all out, but they are usually sung off-key.
Or not in any key I recognize.
Maybe some sort of music lesson would strengthen her ability to recognize whether or not she is in tune?

Oh, and I need to mention that Ryan is ALL girl.
In fact, she was putting on her chap stick makeup the other day and turned to me with all the seriousness a six-year-old can muster and said, "I'm so glad we're ladies. We can wear makeup. We need to stick together since there are only two of us in our family."
Well said.
She loves it all: the nail polish, the sparkles, the heels, and the long hair (just as long as it never needs to be combed or "done").
She literally screams over each individual hair as I try to brush through it every morning.
And styling it?
You'd think she was being tortured.
The other day, she actually bawled, "You are torturing me."
Her words. Which, of course, is exactly what I do.
Yep, right after the French braid is finished I shove bamboo rods up her fingernails.
While playing a tape of crying babies in the background.
So dramatic. And emotional.
Anyway, a few more things I don't wanna forget about this silly girl.
She isn't a breakfast person.
She doesn't want to eat before school.
I didn't realize one started to develop those kind of opinions/habits so young.
And who doesn't like to eat?
And speaking of eating, the two things she absolutely cannot manage to gag down?
Salmon and honey. Not necessarily together.
And she loves to snuggle.
Actually I think that I have written that about every one of my kids.
Well, apparently they ALL want to be touching me at all times.
Which I have been told I will miss one day.
And I probably will.
Even though it sounds heavenly today.
And she also has had the same baby blanket her whole little life.
It is a huge pastel afghan. What the ...?
And she pokes her fingers through it every night in order to soothe herself to sleep.
I often come in to check on her only to find all ten fingers and both big toes sticking through all the stretched-out holes in her blankie.
She is funny and has the prettiest, freckliest smile. You can see all her top teeth.
And I love that she wears glasses.
She is very responsible with them and always removes them and puts them somewhere safe before karate-chopping Ezra and goading him into a fight.
I am so glad I have my Ryan, the lion.
I just love her so much.
She will always be my baby girl.
And we girls gotta stick together.

p.s. Is that singing not the cutest thing you have ever seen? I love listening to her. It is a medley from the movie "Pitch Perfect." This movie is so funny and totally has a PG-13 rating for good reason. Seriously, I should get an Awesome Mom Award of some sort.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

The Fezzy Wig

Well, since I did a whole rundown on our youngest, or the Anti-Christ, as Scott fondly nicknamed him, I thought perhaps the other two Pittlings could use a little attention as well.
After all, this is supposed to be a family blog, and not just the rantings of a lunatic opinionated mother slash wife who clearly needs to get some friends/life/nookie.
Anyway, about Ezra.
He is very funny.
He is by far the most entertaining one of our brood because he is so honest and direct.
He fills us in every morning on whatever bizarre dream he had the night before.
They usually involve someone in our family and space, in a perilous situation.
He obviously gets quality REM sleep. Probably because he is the best sleeper.
Playing Wii. Look at the baby. #anotheronebitesthedust
Once I put him down, he lapses into a coma and doesn't stir for the remainder of the night.
He is also the most diligent about our bedtime routine.
Every night, after I tuck him in he asks for a head butt, an Eskimo kiss, a real kiss, and a hug.
In that order.
Then he finishes off by saying, "I love you, do you know that?"
I can't remember exactly when I began saying that to him, but my night wouldn't be complete without it.
However, in an attempt to keep everything balanced, he also has the title for pickiest eater.
And by picky, I really mean impossible. He likes nothing, except pizza.
So in order to give myself and the rest of our family a break from the incessant whining that accompanies our meal every. single. night. we have pizza night on Fridays.
In his honor.
I know this bathtub is very deep. WTH?
Clearly, we will only stay places with huge a$$ tubs.
I justify this by making it homemade.
He literally asks if it is pizza night every day.
Because, and I quote, "It is the night where everyone is happiest."
And speaking of happy, nothing makes this boy happier than using potty words.
In case you aren't familiar with what constitutes as a potty word, it is basically any word used to describe anything you might use or do while in a bathroom.
Really. The word "buns" literally causes fits of laughter.
And "toot" is another favorite.
Both saying and doing. Gross.
Not that I am surprised really, with a father that may or may not have challenged his brother-in-laws to a farting contest on Christmas eve and found so much success that it was deemed necessary to open all the doors and windows, whilst a blizzard was raging outside, just to prevent asphyxiation to those unfortunately present.
But I digress.
This isn't about how disgusting Scott is, it is about how weird our son is turning out to be.

No that is not pizza he is eating. Treats are apparently an acceptable substitute.
Moving on.
He works out with me every day.
We do P90X, Insanity, and Jillian Michaels.
While I use weights to perform my exercises, he uses cream of chicken soup cans.
And instead of losing interest after three minutes, he sticks out the whole video.
He is also a movie monster.
He loves movies, especially Wallace & Gromit.
If I let him, (and I don't) he would sit and watch movies or play Wii all day, every day.
He loves the Wii. And is really good at it.
Scott tries to tell me gaming skills will, in fact, help Ezra's coordination and fine motor skills, and that playing them together is considered bonding.
What else can I say about our Fezzy Wig?
Yes, he does answer to Fezzy Wig.
And he loves to vacuum out the couch, talk to anyone who will listen (usually about his dreams or the Wii), snuggle, make cookies with me, play PBSkids on the computer, work on his preschool workbook, and play with Barbies in private.
He is the best.
I absolutely cannot imagine my life without Ezra in it.
It would be very boring and quiet.
We love our baby Ezzy.