"Look Mommy, we're playing so nicely!"  the little guys just told me (with a little bit of wonder and amazement  in their voice.)

Tucked petticoats

Pookie has also acquired two tucked petticoats.  I am thrilled with how they turned out.  They give great "poof" to her dresses. 

Blue Dress

Pookie's blue dress is mostly complete, but here is a sneak preview.  It is based on a CDV (carte de visite) from the Civil War period.  It has box pleats, a smooth bodice and tulip sleeves.  Her little chemise sleeves peek out from the dress.  I am especially excited about the sleeves because they are the first thing that I have drafted all on my own.

My Delicate Flower

Pookie:  Butt, butt, butt.  I'm amused by the word butt.

I'm so proud.  She's the only one of my kids that is amused by potty humor.

The Potty Party

Yep.  I do have other kids beside Little Bear, although it seems really hard to tell lately.  Sorry about that, and I'm even sorrier to them. 

On Monday we decided to get serious about potty training Pookie.  Potty training has got to be one of my least favorite parenting tasks, but it has to be done.  Pookie has been particularly resistant to the idea of going potty and with all of the changes going on in her life (ie a new sibling) we decided not to push it.  Sometimes parents can and have to go head-to-head with their kids, but in my experience potty training is one place where parents will lose every time.  So . .

We decided to make a game of it and have a "POTTY PARTY!"  The older boys made decorations.  We then "potty trained" Tulip her stuffed rabbit complete with pee in the little potty (yellow food coloring in a squirt bottle.  then we read a potty book and watch a video that we have and gave her a big cup of juice.  Then it was Pookie's turn.  She was excited to try and we had success.

Now it is just up to me to remind her to go often.  Ugg.  We moved the little potty to the playroom so that she doesn't have to go far to potty and I don't have to leave Bear for very long.

A Brother

Yesterday I was changing Pookie's diaper. She was chattering as usual, and I was only half listening. Then I heard her say "I want 'Brad' " -- the adoption agency gave Little Bit the ID name Brad and that is what the kids have been calling him. We have told them that is not his name, and that we will give him a new name when we adopt him because his Russian name would not be popular in the US. We also told them we don't want to use him new name until we've at least have travel dates and are more certain he will be ours. Anyway--

"You want Brad?" I said.

"I do!"

"Do you even know who Brad is?" I asked

With total certainty she replied,"A brother."

Pookie Is Growing Up

On a lighter note, Pookie went poo poo and pee pee on the potty for the first time last week. For the last little while she has felt that she needs to potty but couldn't figure out how to get her body to do what she wanted it to. She is very proud of herself.

Isn't funny the things that you said that you'd never do, and then you end up up doing them? After Jophus was born, I was never having another child. I distinctly remember standing the the kitchen and saying "I'll never be one of those crazy people who homeschools their kids." Finally, I said that if a child can ask then they are too old to nurse. Err, umm. Yeah, about that.

All of my children were breastfed, but Pookie has embraced the experience. "Experts" recommend that you don't introduce a bottle for the first few weeks, if you are nursing in order to establish a good nursing relationship. Well, I was so focused on that, I kind of forgot to introduce a bottle, so Pookie never took one. Ever. Not even once.

Now she will tap me on the chest and say "I nur! I want nur!" I know its time to start weaning her. In theory, we will be going to Russia sometime in the next few months. I'd like to be weaned by then. The thing is we don't really want to stop. I don't know what God has in store for us in regards to the size of our family. We may never haven another infant. Even if we do have more children after Sweet Pea, we may decide to adopt again. I like being able to nourish and comfort our baby. I like having a tiny to hold and love.

This may be the first of our "lasts." The last baby to nurse. The last child to use the crib or use that baby blanket. Is it the last child we will see learn to talk? It is so hard to admit that one stage of my parenthood may be ending.

Pretty Pookie

Pookie is 22 months old now, but is still quite small so at first she looks younger. If you really look at her you can tell she's older because her proportions are that of a toddler and not an infant. I was pretty worried for a while because for most of the winter she didn't really gain any weight, but in the past few months she has gained a few pounds. It is something of a shock to go from these giant boys who are usually at the top of the growth charts to this tiny petite princess.

Pookie understands most of what people say to her, and I'm excited that she she is starting to follow basic instructions like "go put that on the shelf." She is also starting to speak in multiple word sentences-- as long as no one else is around. She reminds me of that Michigan J. Frog from Bugs Bunny. This guy finds him and the frog starts to sing and dance. Every time the guy tries to show someone, the frog goes limp and mute. That's my girl! One of the few places that is different is at the gymnastics studio, where she has the coaches trained to give her stamps and sticker after classes. Yesterday that girl ended up with three stickers and a stamp.

She has no fear at all on a playground, which scares me to death. She will climb up ladders and nets and go on the big slides all by herself. When we go to the park I almost need another parents. One to run with her and one to help the boys, otherwise if I turn my back for a second, then she is doing some thing insane.

Down in the Dumps

Pookie got sick over the weekend--ran a high fever Saturday and Sunday. I thought she was getting better, but last night she woke up around 10:30 and could not get back to sleep. Usually I'm a "mean" mom and let her fuss until she settles back down. Last night I went straight to her and nursed her. Nope, that didn't really help. I let her lay down with me for a while. That didn't help either. Put her back to bed and hope she would sleep. Charlie came home from a meeting and rocked her for a while. Still crying. At 2:00am we brought her back to our bed where she finally slept-- for two hours. The doctor says she has an ear infection and that can cause so much pain that children can't sleep. Poor baby!

I Feel Pretty

The five o'clock hour is the busiest around our house. That is when I make dinner and the boys do their before dinner chores of cleaning up and taking bath so that they can watch TV. Pookie mostly plays by herself or will watch TV with the boys. That is what I thought she was doing the other night until I heard:
"Pookie!" Wonder Boy yelled.
"Don't yell at her."
"No, Mom, look."
Pookie had gotten into my makeup drawer in the bathroom and had covered herself in half a jar of cream foundation. It was everywhere. On her clothes, over most of her face, on the bathroom door and rug. It hearkened back to the Auquaphor incident of 2005, when Wonder Boy smeared 10 ounces of Aquaphor (a vaseline-like ointment) all over himself during a "nap." I may have killed her if it hadn't been so funny. She is such a girl already, loving shoes, hats and clothes. I am scared for the teen years. They sound expensive.