I was at home with the girls one day last week. They didn't have school and their big 7 year well visit was scheduled for smack dab in the middle of the day. At one point that morning, our house was completely silent. All four of us were on our own beds, reading. There are moments, and sometimes days, when it feels like our house is in a perpetual state of chaos. Now that the girls are older, snippets of calm sneak in here and there. I remember thinking that if I could make it to their fifth birthday, I would survive. And I'm still here.
I must have been asked no less than 362 times that morning if shots were going to be a part of the doctor's appointment. I started off responding with, "I don't think so," because there was one year they weren't scheduled to receive shots but there had been an update to the vaccine so there were shots. And crying. After they asked 156 times, I changed my response to "NO!" And there weren't any. (I'm sure I never would have heard the end of it if there had been.)
We still haven't made it to the big 4-0 (pounds that is) yet. Allie's only a half of a pound away. Emily weighs two pounds less than Allie and Anna weighs two pounds less than Emily. They still use a 5 point harness because of this. Allie and Emily are the same exact height (43.5 inches) while Anna is 1.5 inches shorter. They are all still on their own little growth charts so no concerns there (thank goodness) and they all passed the eye test. Hopefully, they've inherited Rich's eyesight genes because mine aren't so great.
Anna was telling me how a boy in her class commented that she looks like she's a kindergartener. She wasn't upset by the comment but more confused as to why someone would say that, knowing that she's in the first grade. I told her that if it comes up again, her response should be, "Come talk to me when I'm 35 but look 25." Yeah, more confusion.