Last Night

It was late.

As in, kids all tucked in, kitchen cleared, computers powered down, sitting on the sofa kind of late.

I was writing a letter to my friend (sorry Sara - I may never get to finish that epistle at this rate) and Kevin was watching (with his eyes closed) some M. Night ShimmyWhoWho movie on television.

And that's when we heard the cry.

"Mommyyyyyyyyyyy." (Hmmm. Now they call my name. Interesting.)

We discovered Mosely in the bathroom, over the toilet, taking care of her little sick self.

We wondered if Mosely had managed to make it to the bathroom before the sickness began. But evidence to the contrary was all over her face. And arms. And shirt. And hair. And, upon further investigation . . . the blankets, the wall, the floor. Oh and yes, the bed she was sharing with Bergen and London.

And so our night began in earnest. At about 1 a.m.

We shifted sleeping, non-sick children to alternate locations. We divided and conquered. Kevin cleaned up the bedroom, I cleaned up the six year old. And mid-process we heard a familiar sound. Behind the closed door of one little Willow.

Sure enough. Sick kid number two. And there was no time for a trip to the bathroom. It was already too late before we even opened the door.

And so we started the process over again. Stripped sheets. Piled up pillows, eagle and anything else unfortunate enough to happen to be in Piper's path.

The night was long. Two baths after 1 a.m. Two beds stripped of sheets. Two beds remade. Two buckets located for any more incidents. Two girls outfitted in new cozy pajamas.

Somewhere along the way, Piper sat up and said, "I am having fun with Mosely in my bedroom." Some fun, Sweet Little Munch. But I like that attitude.

We had at least three more incidents throughout the late evening - maybe more. I might have lost count.

But the day did dawn brighter, no one has been ill all day.

And on the positive side, for the first time in maybe a year or more - every Keigley kid took a nap this afternoon - even London Eli.

So there's your silver lining, I guess.

In the Heart of the Country

We may not live on a farm any longer, but we sure can play as if we do.

Kevin recently crafted a clever and warm winter abode for our three dogs. He made it out of hay and it serves its purpose of dog shelter while being amazingly eco-friendly. (What a guy!)

And the kids think it's real cool too.

The play of every day since the dog home's construction has been hay-related.

Stick hay in the empty trash can.

Rain hay upon one another's heads.

Roll hay into eleventy billion piles.

Load hay into the red wagon and pull it all over the yard.

Fill the trash can with both hay and a person and then roll that person around until they almost cry.

And that's what I call - Farm Fun. (Even if three dogs and tens of thousands of potential bees does not a farm make.)

Lunch Lesson

This was yesterday's lunch for my children.

I like to call it . . . self-control on a plate.

Sometimes I like to place the kids' dessert on the same plate with their food, a la Look Up Lodge cafeteria dining style.

The rule governing desserts in our house, and probably in every house with young children, is basic. Eat your dinner first.

It hasn't changed in a long time. Back in the day, John the Baptist was probably eating his honey after his locust.

So I just placed the Oreo on the plate beside the other food options. Oreos are actually a pretty unusual treat at our house but they were purchased to fulfill their destiny as truffles but the package was opened early and the word quickly spread.

Self-control is hard. And it takes practice. Years of it. And we still frequently lack it.

But yesterday the Keiglets managed nicely.

Three out of four children waded through every required eating before they munched on their Oreo, earning them an additional Oreo to dunk in milk, TV-commercial-style.

Can you guess who caved into the temptation before dinner?

A Dog's Life

We think we have it bad with Magnus.

I imagine Kipling thinks she has it bad with us!

Never Heard That One

London was asking to play games today.

I told her she should play some group games with her siblings - like Ring Around the Rosy or Duck Duck Goose.

And she said, "We can't play Duck Duck Goose. There aren't enough of us."
Not enough Keigley kids?

Now, that's one I've never heard before!