Reagan's Drawing

Reagan drew this picture with her new gel pens that Santa brought her.  You start in the middle with "God/Jesus Christ".  Then you read up, or down, or to the right or to the left.  To read this:

"God has a son named Jesus.  He loves us more than anything.  He is the creator of earth.  He is amazing."

Very cool.

The Artist

A Portrait of Gunner Aho, circa 2017.

From the Archives

Mama and Reagan be all like.....

Gymnastics

Reagan and the boys are in Tramp and Tumbling, and the boys LOVE IT.  Reagan, however, has dreams of being in traditional gymnastics, where she's not the only girl in the class, and there's more use of all the other equipment.  Her coach let her give it a try last week - just to see....

Queen of Bitmoji

Reagan recently discovered  Bitmoji.  I have to admit, her avatar does look somewhat like her. 

Just now, she was rough-housing with her brothers and there was much too much screeching involved for this mama to tolerate. The children were unceremoniously separated, and  Reagan was banished to the basement.  I received several consecutive emails in response.  They are summarized below, in chronological order:

To Mom:

To Mom:  Can I come up now?

To: Mom

To Mom:

To: Mom.  Colby hurt me.

To: Mom

To: Mom.  Fact - Colby is mean.

To Mom:

To: Mom

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA

The Winterophile

Reagan loves snow.  She loves it.  After school when it snows, I can usually count on her being outside like this:

They Grow Up So Fast. A Montage.

Reagan and the Grand Hotel at 8 Years Old

A Gift for the Teacher

Reagan has been less than fully enthusiastic about school this year, for the first time.  She says this is because she has a very strict teacher, and she's used to warm and fuzzy.  But last night, I caught her making this gift for said teacher.  If Mrs. J. wasn't smiling before, I'm sure she'll be smiling now. 

The Negotiator

It's apple-picking season, and Little Miss and I were out doing it.  She was up in a tree, I was firmly on the ground.

Reagan: "Mom, how much will you pay me to pick these apples?"
Mom: "Well, yesterday I told you I would pay you $5 for a garbage bag full."
Reagan: "No.  I want to be paid by the apple."
Mom: "Fine.  I will pay you $.03 an apple."
Reagan: "No.  $.10 an apple."
Mom: "No, $.03.  You have to negotiate a better price."
Reagan: "What's negotiate mean?"
Mom: "It means to compromise in a way that we're both satisfied with.  I want to pay you 3 cents, you want 10 cents.  So you should find a price in between that I'm willing to pay."
Reagan: "We're both fine with 10 cents.  There.  Deal.  I win."

She's a tough negotiator.  I have to admit.  I was ready to say ZERO cents really quickly, but she was too cute and I caved.  Plus, I realized that she went for the biggest apples possible to fill her bag, which meant that $.10 an apple was actually cheaper than the $5 a bag I'd originally offered her.  See... a deal with both can live with!

Soccer

The Unicorn Stable behind My Couch

You never know where those pesky magical beasts might congregate...

The Girl At Eight

Boating with a Friend

Reagan's friend Elyza comes up to visit every year from way down south (somewhere... I'm not entirely sure where?  Somewhere with a twang!)  They spent the day together, and thoroughly enjoyed each other's company!!

Growing Up: New Skill Edition

Reagan asked me to teach her how to curl her hair.  She did a beautiful job!  Her hair being what it is (thin, straight, and fragile), thanks to that heritage from her mother, the curls did not last more than five minutes.  But they sure looked cute for those first few moments!

Summer Crafting

Reagan is my little crafter.  She got it in her head that she MUST make a bunny out a sock, and, given that I remember doing the same thing when I was her age, we made it happen. 

End of the School Year

Reagan wrote this letter to give to her teacher on the last day of school today. 

I was really glad that Reagan did not purposefully flunk 2nd grade in order to get Mrs. Bostwick again.  Then I asked her about her last year's teacher, Mrs. Gillis.  "I thought you said Mrs. Gillis was the best teacher in the universe!"  Reagan thought a moment, and then said "Mom, this letter is to Mrs. Bostwick.  You have to know who you're talking to.  If you're nice to your teacher, they're nice to you."

Good thinking, kid!

For Daddy

Daddy is gone for a good long while on his grand adventure.

Today, Reagan told me this:

"Mom, I found a four leaf clover at school today.  And I've been blowing every dandelion I can find, wishing that Dad comes home safe!"

That's very sweet.  I told her that prayers might be a better way to protect her Daddy, and leave those dandelions alone.

School Report

Reagan was asked to write something at school, naming a place after someone.  This is what she wrote:

"I like Taylor Swift because I like her music and her hair.  I would like a town named after her that she would live in because it is named after her.  Maybe even a country or a state or a road.  She is nice."

I think maybe I will become a Swiftian and live in Swiftanistan.  The land of great music and hair.

Luck, and the lack thereof....

Reagan had a Finnish Folkdance performance at a local nursing home the other day.  The same day, I might add, that I worked, three children had school, the boys had a track meet, and I had a dinner to go to later in the evening.  That's multiple events for the mama to plan for before leaving the house at 7:35 am:   getting myself and three kids ready and dressed and fed and teeth-brushed, and finding track shoes and track uniforms, and homework and backpacks, and dance uniforms, and white tights, and a white shirt and two black shoes.  I DID end up with two black shoes. I really did.  Which was a remarkable feat in and of itself, considering the state of Reagan's room that morning.  But when we got to the nursing home, we discovered that those two black shoes were both for Reagan's RIGHT foot.  Poor, unshod left foot, with no shoe.  Shame on you, greedy right foot, with more shoes than you needed. 

This predicament was DEVESTATING to the little girl.  She burst into tears.

Reagan:  "I can't dance with two right shoes!"
Mom: "Just wear a right shoe on your left foot."
Reagan: "That will be too uncomfortable!  I can't do that!"
Mom: "Then wear your stocking feet.  You'll glide better that way anyway."
Reagan: "I will slip and fall and hurt myself!  I can't wear just my socks!!!"
Mom: ((sigh))  "I don't know what you want me to do.  I can't make another shoe suddenly appear in the next 10 minutes."
Reagan: "Can you run to the store and buy a new pair??"
Mom: "NO.  I can not."
Reagan:[{ Wail.  Whine.  Whimper.  Pout.}]
Reagan: "This is ALL BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE A FOUR LEAF CLOVER!!"
Mom: "What??"
Reagan: "My friend Payton has a four leaf clover, and this has NEVER happened to HER!!"

Well, who could argue with that logic?? 

Darned four leaf clover. 

She wore her pink tennis shoes with her dance costume, and you know what??  No one even noticed or cared.  So there.

Humility, thy name is motherhood.

Mothers Day Fail: actually accidentally left a child at church.... and didn't even notice until we got all the way home. When she gave me her Mother's Day gift after being rescued, Reagan was sure to tell me "I felt all these things BEFORE you abandoned me". Ugh.

Daddy Daughter Date

Reagan sure enjoys flying with Dad, and Dad sure enjoys having her as a copilot!

Ensconced in Mermaid Tail Blankets

Reagan has not one, but two, mermaid-tail blankets.  Because she's spoiled like that.  She loves them both, and wants to use them simultaneously.  It doesn't really work to put one on each leg, because who ever heard of a mermaid with two tails?  Never fear.  Reagan's a problem-solver.

Questions at Bedtime

Reagan: "Mom, which would you rather see?  Quinn and Colby for the rest of their lives, or me for the next twenty years?"

WHAT kind of question is that????

Future Architect

I have predicted, from the time she was about a year old, that Reagan will grow up one day to be an architect.  She is just drawn to drawing and building things.  Towers, forts, buildings.  She created this fort from boxes that were in her room.  She is the only person in the house small enough to fit in it, and even that took a fair bit of contortion on her part to accomplish.  But built it she did.  Our little architect.  Time will tell if that prediction comes true!

Fiber Art

Look at what Reagan made on the loom she got for Christmas!!  A real piece of fabric that's all warm and fuzzy and colorful!!  I'm so impressed!  She's taking it to school tomorrow to show her art teacher, who asked to see it. 

She's a crafty little girl, she is.

Facetime

I have been in isolation for maybe 7 waking hours of Reagan's life, and have already received approximately 15 phone calls from her :).  Mostly, she looks at herself making goofy faces, while  I'm just a casual bystander.  Do I really need to be here for this???  But it's good to see her little face, even if I haven't REALLY had a chance to miss it much yet!!

Not a Fan

Reagan is not a fan of our current "earn to play" ungrounding plan, devised by her overly ambitious brother, who instantly regretted his idea.  When she saw this list made for her, she promptly crossed out her own name and put Quinn's, and then drew frowny faces all over it.  It makes me laugh, even though little girl thinks this is NO LAUGHING MATTER.

Get Your Mind Out of the Gutter

Reagan found a balloon.  And thought it would make the perfect unicorn horn.  "Look at me!" she said.  "I'm a unicorn!".  And then she proceeded to wear the thing ALL.NIGHT.LONG.  Even while skyping her friend in China, who seemed a bit confused as to why there was a long pink thing on Reagan's forehead. 

UGH.  I'm embarrassed for her, but in her innocence... she had no idea.  She did ask me at one point why I couldn't stop laughing, which promptly made me, you know, stop laughing.  I didn't really want to have to explain anything.  REALLY. 

Overheard

Reagan and her friend Darla were eating breakfast, having an 8 year old girl conversation.

Darla: "I had a dream that I got married.  It was terrible."
Reagan: "That is terrible."
Darla: "To a boy I have a crush on.  But I will never tell anyone who it is."
Reagan: "You just gave us a hint!  It's a boy!"

Colossal Mom Guilt

Found this note in Reagan's room today.  No comment necessary.  Obviously written before Christmas, since I haven't been to work in six weeks, really. 

The Snuggler

Reagan is a snuggler.  Without a "bubble".  She craves touch, really.  Even at dinner, she tries to crawl into my lap instead of eating in her own chair. Constantly hanging on and climbing on Mom.   So, with the advent of this new bug that I've contracted, and it's subsequent "no touch" precautions, Reagan has struggled.  Mightily.  She asked me last night "Mom!  When can we snuggle again????"  I nearly cried.

"Just a few more days, sweetie.  Then we can snuggle.  Well... February 10th.  That's a few more weeks."
"WEEKS?!?!?" she cried in despair, and ran out of the room.  It's killing her.  And me.

So, last night while I was on one side of the couch wrapped in a blanket, and she was on the other side of the couch wrapped in a blanket, she shyly touched my foot with her foot. 

"Is this ok, Mom?" 

I smiled.  YES.  And she smiled.  And we were both happy and content.  For now.  But come February 10th, watch out.  Mama's gonna snuggle. 

FINALLY. A snowman!

Every year, I have to beg and beg and beg for my children to build a snow man.  They are, for some reason, extremely anti-snow man.  Or complain that "it's not good packing snow".  Well, with our warm temperatures this week, that snow can PACK baby!!  Reagan took pity on her poor mother and made this masterpiece!

Adjectives - Overheard

Reagan had a play date with two friends today.  They were wondering what to do.

Reagan: "I know!  Let's go get Gunner!"
Clare: "Why do you call him Gunner?"
Paige: "Because he's more than a Gun!"

Yes.  He's Gunnier than just plain Gun.  Too funny.

The Diary

I hope I'm not violating her privacy too much, but I love seeing what's going on inside Little Miss' head, and these words are too precious not to preserve in some form.  So SHHHHHHHH.  Don't spread it around.  But I'm documenting her diary right here.