Olivia fell off the stairs today...the bottom step. You would have thought she fell down the whole flight.
She cried and whined for a while. When the storm had passed, we were talking about the incident. "I thought I broke my head! But I didn't. Then you wouldn't have been able to see my whole face. I would have been like a puzzle!"
I'm pretty sure she was visualizing Humpty Dumpty...

While on the swing at the park.

Olivia: Look, my hands can reach! [the chains]

Me: You're growing so fast!

Olivia: I'm growing like a flower.

Me: You're getting bigger and blooming!

Olivia: This flower dies.

Whaaaaa? 

Motherhood has made me so emotional. I know that's true for many people. Talking about my kids, or even thinking about them, often makes me tear up. I'll probably weep while writing this post. Maybe.
I took the girls to a nearby park the other day. I had Evie in the Baby Bjorn and we followed Olivia around as she navigated the less frequented big-kid side of the park. She decided to take on climbing ropes. As a somewhat cautious kid, any amount of climbing up the ropes is a feat for her. She made it to the second rope and felt maxed out; she looked at me for approval. At that moment, a girl a few years older than her nimbly scrambled up to the top rope to the right of Olivia. She proudly looked down at Olivia and gloated in a [incredibly bratty] sing-song voice, "Look how high I am! You can't touch me!" hoping, I'm sure, to get a reaction from Olivia.
My sweet Pie, totally adorable and unbratty smiled and said back to her, "You're doing great!"
Then she looked again at me. "Mom, am I doing great?"
My heart could have burst. Those are the kinds of things that make me go in to her room 20 minutes after putting her to bed, just to snuggle her and tell her I love her one more time.

Moooo

I breastfeed. I believe in it and am committed to it. I'm not convinced I'll match the 2+ years I breastfed Olivia, but I'll keep it up as long as I can. But it's a pain sometimes.

Olivia watched me pump for the first time the other day. Not surprisingly, she had a lot of questions about what was happening, which I answered honestly. The day after our conversation, she came into the room while I was pumping again. She told me, "I'm going to pretend you are a cow." I said that was fine. She grabbed a book, sat down beside me, and said, "I'll read to you, Cow." 

Thanks for helping me pass the time...uh, Calf.

Special?

As I fed Evie on the couch in the playroom yesterday, I overheard Olivia talking as she played with her toys. She has a karaoke machine that has a picture of a crowd of babies (to perform for, of course). She sat in front of the machine and pointed to each baby as she said (quietly), "You are special, you are special, you are not special, you are special, you are not special, you are not special, you are special," etc. I was unable to see across the room as to who the "not-specials" were so I couldn't find any rhyme or reason, but I'm wondering if I need to be worried...

At lunch the other day-
Me: Olivia, take your feet off the table.  (For the twelfth time)
O: Why?
Me: Because they have germs on them and I don't want them on the table. Also, because I'm the mom and you're the little girl. Your job is to obey me.
O: Why?
Me: Because God said. He said, "Kids, obey your parents."
O: I didn't hear him say that.

Baby!

Welcome, Evangeline Grace! We are so blessed to have another healthy, beautiful baby girl. 

We love you so much!