An Intro to the Subjects of Most of my Posts

Princess Precious is my oldest. She's 8 and probably the smartest kid I know. Math is her idea of fun. She was thinking of having a math party for her last birthday, but I was relieved when she chose to go to a local DVD rental place to play Wii with her friends instead. She's in the Gifted and Talented class at school and loves getting to do all sorts of cool (gross?) things like dissecting owl pellets and making Egyptian hieroglyphics. She loves gymnastics. She has this amazing candy radar, and is so obsessed with sweets that her ambition is to someday marry the owner of a candy store, with a pizza restaurant guy coming in at a close second.

Diva Girl is turning 7 in a few weeks. I don't know that I have ever met anyone with so much passion. She loves fiercely and has a little bit of a temper issue, like Rita was a little bit of a hurricane. She is an amazing artist, and has already won an award for her painting. When she sings, which she does pretty well, she can be heard over an entire congregation. Her recent performance with the kids in our church, the annual Primary program, was described as my little Diva Girl with 60 back up singers, even though it wasn't intended to be so. While she enjoys the occassional sweet, she's been known to throw a fit in the produce aisle, begging for a cucumber.

Darling Destructo is very much a 3-almost-4-year-old boy. Yesterday, while I thought I was watching him out of the corner of my eye as I was busy helping his sisters in the adjacent room, he dismantled a salt shaker, spreading salt around most of the kitchen, decorated my table with the Elmer's glue, made toast, started a fire with the toaster and some cardboard, and put out the flames with a squirt bottle, all of this in a matter of minutes without even making a peep. And then he sweetly helped me clean up every mess. He spends most of the day telling everyone how much he loves them, passing out the hugs and kisses, and the remainder of the day tormenting his sisters with pinches, pokes, kicks, and punches. He is currently in a little mommy-run preschool with two other little boys, learning the ways of Spiderman-Star-Wars-Batman-loving half of the kid world after being exposed mostly to princesses, dress up, and Dora. And he is loving it. It's so much fun watching him jump around with a bunch of boys, grinning, and saying, "What's this game again?" "Ninjas." "Oh, yeah! Mommy, we're playing Ninjas!"

Baby Amazing is 8 months old and the most adorable case of writer's block ever. When they handed her to me in the hospital, she could already hold up her head. The day we brought her home from the hospital she learned how to roll over. In the last three days, she learned how to crawl, how to go up and down stairs, how to eat finger foods, she's grown her third and fourth teeth, and now she's trying to stand on her own. She insists on being held almost all the time, and refuses to sleep anywhere but my bed, which is getting complicated now that she's mobile. She's the funniest mix of sweet and strong-willed, stubborn and snuggly. She is obsessed with all things edible. She is Daddy's biggest fan, and screams every time he comes in the room if he doesn't pick her up immediately. As much as I love having this little monkey for an extra appendage (unless Daddy's in the room), I'm getting a little exhausted of this phase, but trying to muscle my way through the exhaustion in an attempt to enjoy every precious minute.