All About The Armstrong's

My Favorite Little Red Head

2011-03-28T21:22:00.000-07:00

Trinity turned six last month. I can't believe that my baby girl is really not a baby at all! In fact, she rode 49 laps at the CCS Bike A Thon on Friday. Her athleticism and determination amaze me sometimes. She is now playing her fifth season of soccer. She also played basketball for the first time this winter. She seems to enjoy playing sports. I hope I can help her find God's purpose for her life, and help her fulfill that purpose. She has always been an easy child to raise. She is such a pleaser with a servant's heart. So far, she has made it through all of kindergarten with no color changes. She is very serious about following the rules. Her teacher laughs at how she doesn't like it when it gets loud or when the other kids act out. She can always tell me which children had light changes. She is definitely the loner of my three children. On Saturday mornings, my kiddos will often pile up in the bed with me. Trinity will always get on one side of me, while Coooper and Emma Ray lay on the other side. Trinity loves to snuggle with me or her dad, but she doesn't want anyone else to touch her. I often say she reminds me of a cat. She wants attention on her own terms. While Cooper and Emma Ray enjoy showing affection to one another, she often prefers to be left alone. I do love the fact that she and her sister still love to sleep together. Although they might not start out the night snuggling, I usually find them stuck to each other in the morning. Trinity often looks to Emma Ray as a second mom. If she is unsure of a situation, it is not unusual for her to look to Emma Ray for courage. I pray that they will remain close throughout their lives. Out of my three kids, she is definitely the dirty one! It doesn't matter where we go or what we do, she always ends up with a dirty face and stained clothes. I find great humor in the fact that God gave her such beautiful red hair, yet she is not very concerned with the way she looks. She definitely does not like to have her hair fixed. It is a fight to brush it every day. So far, her beauty is lost on her. I hope that she remains that humble. I even laugh about the way she walks in flip flops. She looks like a fish out of water. This is so unlike her sister, who was wearing my flip flops and trying on everyone's shoes from the time she could walk. They could not be more different.

Purple Fairy

2009-11-04T07:21:00.000-08:00

As Halloween began to approach, all of my kiddos started to talk about how they wanted to dress up. God love her, Trinity was so easy. She only had two criteria: it had to have wings and it needed to be purple. How simple is that? I spotted a purple fairy costume in Wal Mart that same week. I popped it in the basket, and we were done. As soon as she saw it, she was thoroughly pleased. She is my pleaser child. She is easy to please, and she likes to please others.

She did however enjoy having me paint her face. She thought that was pretty fun. I bet she checked herself out in the mirror twenty times before i was finished. This was surprising coming from the girl who could usually care less how she looks! In the end, we were both pretty tickled with the way she looked. Pretty cute if I do say so myself. I might be a little bit biased though.

Emma Ray was, of course, a little more difficult to please. We found her costume on the internet. After much searching in stores, I ended up having to order it on-line. That was not a cheap purchase. I began wondering why I had ever even showed her the picture. After she saw it and made her decision, there was no turning back. She was going to be Lolly the Clown.

Yes, her brother is stepping on her foot - on purpose! He was very amused with himself. He liked is because she couldn't yell at him until she was done smiling for the picture.

After much anticipation, Halloween day finally arrived. The girls both had soccer games that morning. Lo and behold, Emma Ray decided to go to her G's house after the game. At the football game the night before, she had somehow sweet talked her Poppie into letting her spend the night and then bringing her to soccer the next morning. I think he is just a sucker for cute little girls that bat their eyes. Anyway, she wanted to help her G set up a booth at the church Halloween carnival. This meant that she had to get ready very quickly at the carnival.

In the end she seemed to care the least about getting all gussied up. I think she only wore the entire outfit for a total of fifteen minutes. It didn't take her long to shed the shoes and wig in order to jump and slide. She never ceases to amaze me!

A Little Bit Scary

2009-11-04T06:35:00.000-08:00

While I was shopping at Wal Mart yesterday, I noticed that there were still several isles full of Halloween stuff. Of course I had to go look and see if there were any irresistible bargains to be found. As I was perusing the merchandise, I began to notice that my poor son had a death grip on my shirt. Not only was he clutching on to me for dear life, but he also had his sweet little head buried in my sweatshirt. He was desperately trying not to look at the scary masks. This could have something to do with the fact that my husband can't resist scaring our kids with these terrible masks as they walk down the isles. He loves to hide and jump out as they round the corners. This seems to be his Halloween tradition. I know it's sick - right. Needless to say, my son does not like the scary costumes.

He also has a strong aversion to people with painted faces. This made for a very amusing moment when we got him all dressed up for Halloween night. He was a rodeo clown of course. I think that every little cowboy has to do that at least once. It's like a right of passage or something. I didn't really mind since it was a very cheap costume to make. He already had an awful red and white striped shirt that had been handed down. I was saving it just for this occasion. We took a pair of his sisters old jeans and cut them up. All I had to buy were a couple of bandannas to use for suspenders. He wore his cowboy hat and boots to finish it off.

As Casey and I got the kids ready for the church Halloween carnival, I decided I would be in charge of Trinity. This left Casey in charge of Cooper. I figured he would know more about what a real rodeo clown would look like. I sat Trinity down, and painted her fairy face with purples and pinks. She loved checking it out in the mirror. Next it was Casey's turn. He decided to go with an elaborate red and white design that covered most of my boy's face. He added some crosses on Cooper's cheeks and forehead. It really looked pretty cute. When he was all finished, he asked Cooper if he would like to look in the mirror. Of course he was excited to look. This is where things got funny. We all went to the bathroom to look at Cooper's paint job. Casey hoisted him up onto the counter so he could see himself. As soon as he got a glimpse of himself, he shuddered and moved back away from the mirror. He was scared of his own image. It was all Casey and I could do not to bust out laughing at him. We finally convinced him that it looked really cute, and he got used to it.

Cooper loved playing the games at the carnival. He and his sisters loved jumping and sliding on the bounce house, and playing the many games. His favorite booth was the fishing game. This could have something to do with the fact that his G and Poppie were running the thing. He got to have as many turns as he wanted. Maybe he just liked the "unique" costume his G wore. She dressed as Noah's wife - she even carried a "pooper scooper". Thank goodness he is too young to be embarrassed!

Everything would have been perfect in Bubba's world if everyone would have refrained from wearing face paint and masks. Periodically throughout the night, I would feel him suddenly clutch my leg for dear life. That was my cue that a mask had gotten too close. His G decided to take him on a hay ride at the end of the evening. I decided to help Poppie clean up his booth and put everything up for another year. When I returned from the storage shed, I could hear my boy crying for me. He was in his G's arms saying, "I want Mommy". She said he was just inconsolable since a masked child had scared the daylights out of him on the hayride. He kept telling my "I crying for you Mommy". When I asked him what was wrong, he said, "I scared of the "maks". I hope the poor child isn't scarred for life.

2009-10-23T09:54:00.000-07:00

My kids are so darn competetive. Everything has to be a competition with them. We were shopping in Wal-Mart (where else is there to shop?) yesterday. Trinity informed my that she needed to go "potty". Of course she waits until we are right in the middle of the grocery section. Why she didn't tell me ten minutes before when we walked right by the restrooms, I'll never know. It happens every time.

Anyway, she somehow managed to turn this into a race with her older sister. She looked Emma Ray straight in the eyes and said, "Let's race." So they both take off walking very briskly, but still making sure they are not out of my sight. Each of them were saying, "I'm gonna win." We finally arrive at our destination - the Wal Mart restrooms. We all enter quickly, and luckily there were exactly three stalls open. The restroom was pretty full this day. Trinity And I ended up in adjoining stalls. She tells me (very loudly) that "this is a race mom." I try to act nonchalant about it, and just answer (quietly) "yes it is Honey". Then she loudly and excitedly proclaims "IT'S A POTTY RACE." By the way, I don't know why she chose this kind of race. She was just setting herself up for failure. She's always the last one to finish. The girl is the most regular person I know - if you know what I mean.

What do you say to that? I just tried to hide the laughter in my voice, and I replied, "yes, Honey it is, but you can take your time." The whole time I was silently praying no one in the restroom heard her loud voice, and hopefully they did not know me!

Thankfully, we have soccer games in the morning. Maybe that will take care of the competetive energy, at least for a while.

A Boy and His Dog

2009-10-20T09:27:00.000-07:00

He spends the majority of his day "roping cows". Just ask him. Everyone in the house must beware of his flying rope, lest we get whacked across the face. All of the animals in our house are fair game. Cats, dogs - it doesn't matter the species. They are all his "cows" when he is in cowboy mode.

And yes, I constantly tell him to leave the poor dogs alone. Most often, his victim is Cookie - our beloved Shi-Tzu. I try to keep her safe, but she keeps coming back for more.

It looks innocent enough, but that is how it always starts.

First, he spots his "cow".

Then, he moves in for the take down.

He likes to sneak up behind his prey and catch them by surprise. It must be some instinctual hunting reflex. I think only boys have this, because I've never seen the girls act this way.

He is going for the take down now. It so reminds me of his Daddy flanking the real cows.

He needed to take a little break to look at the real cows out in the pasture.

Just look at that fluffy little face. I could just eat her up. She is so loveable - not to mention very TOLERANT!

I think he has her right where he wants her now. He looks like he is gettin' kinda serious.

VICTORIOUS! He has conquered the beast. I just don't know if she is a cow or a horse at this point. Poor cookie!

Imagination!

2009-10-20T07:52:00.000-07:00

Oh how I love this girl! She has such a vivid imagination!

Just this morning she was planning a party in my closet. She looked so cute in my white heels. She had just gotten out of the bath tub, so of course wasn't wearing anything else. This child has such an aversion to wearing clothing.

She peeked out of the closet to tell her bathing brother that he could not come to the party yet. She quickly closed the door behind her to finish the party preparations.

This is where the distinction between boys and girls comes in. Cooper looks back at me, and in his little growly voice he said, "I come to you party.... and I bwow you candles out." Then he inhales deeply and makes a big blowing noise. I couldn't help but laugh at his cute little self.

By the way - don't you think this picture gives new meaning to the phrase "cutting the grass"?

That Mom

2009-10-19T20:09:00.001-07:00

Emma Ray is playing her fourth season of soccer. Much to my surprise, she picked soccer over dancing and singing this year. Just when I think I have her all figured out, she goes and changes things up on me. Being a sports enthusiast, I must say I was secretly very happy she picked soccer!

I try my very hardest to not be "that" mom. You know, the one that is screeming from the sidelines? My competetive nature sometimes rears its ugly head, and I holler. I just try to make it a "positive" comment. It is a difficult thing to remain somewhere in the middle. I would like to be somewhere in between the mom that is harshly yelling at her poor child, and the totally out of touch mom that doesn't have a clue.

Tonight I witnessed a mother yell at her child and loudly scream at her to "shut up". It made my skin crawl to hear this. I was filled with sorrow and embarassment for the little girl. I bit my tongue and kept my mouth shut. Anyone that knows me knows how extremely difficult this is for me. I am continually praying for God to put a gate over my mouth. Fortunately he was in the business of answering my prayer tonight.

I had almost made up my mind that I would politely and discretely ask the mother to refrain from screaming "shut up" so loudly that the entire soccer complex could hear. I thought I might even tell her that we don't use those words at our house, and I would appreciate her not using them either. In the end, I lost my nerve, and left the field feeling helpless. I just hope I am never "that mom".

Dirty, Rotten Kid

2009-10-15T20:06:00.000-07:00

There is one in every group. We have one here at our house. She stands apart from the other three. She's the dirty one.

You see, I have three very different children. I have the strong willed, sassy, outgoing first born. Then, of course, there is the sweet and cuddly baby of the litter. And last but not least, there is the middle child. She is what I would call a loner. Everything happens on her terms. Although she likes to please authority, she's not too worried about the opinions of her peers. This girl loves animals and being outside. She is definitely a tom boy. She could care less about her appearance, and that is often apparent.

I can take all three children to the same places and have them participate in the same activities. Yet, she is the dirty one. This has been true of her for her whole little life. It is like her body contains a magnet that somehow attracts dirt. Her face, more often than not, looks like she has been sucking on a sow. At least that what my husband would say.

Bless her heart, and mine for that matter. I truly try to dress her up and make her presentable. Nonetheless, she eventually looks somewhat disheveled. I'm constantly wiping her face and smoothing her hair to no avail. Try as I might, it is all in vain. She still continues to put her shoes on the wrong feet and forgets to brush her hair. I've resigned myself to the fact that her beautiful red hair and petite little features will just always be touched up with a little grime.

God love her. She just wants to play outside where she is free to dig in the dirt and waller with the animals. So, most of the time, I just give in and let her go. I see a little bit of myself in that free imaginative spirit. But for the life of me, I don't know where she got the dirt magnet!

Sincerely,

Dirt Girl's Mom

Bobble Head

2009-10-13T09:09:00.000-07:00

I still remember the tender moments spent between me and my first born while she was nursing. Unfortunately, there were some not so great moments spent pumping milk for that precious baby girl. What an awful memory that is for me - being hooked up to such a humiliating machine. I can still hear the whooshing and whirring of that awful thing. I can clearly see myself staring at a sweet picture of my baby girl in a tremendous attempt to begin lactating. Oh the things we do for children.

Then I would send these precious bottles of liquid gold with Emma Ray so my mom could feed her while I was working. Thus began her deep love for her "bobble". Some kids have a pacifier or security blanket. Some babies suck their thumb. Not mine! She loved her bottle. This love affair lasted until she was a very old three. It even carried on until she was four, but only at G's house. They had this special "secret".

Needless to say, she loved her "bobble". This was her security item. It is what she wanted any time she went to sleep. I know, not so good for the teeth. As I would rock her to sleep, she would suck her bottle and rub my ear lobe. This was the way she fell off to dreamland every day. She was very dependent on this process. That became very evident one evening while riding in the truck. As many children do, Emma Ray was getting sleepy in her car seat. She began sucking her bottle in an effort to fall asleep. Then I heard her sweet, groggy voice say, "Mommy, I need your ear." My heart simply melted. Not only had she grown accustomed to her bobble at bedtime, but she also wanted my ear. Who am I flattering though, it could be any body's ear really.

As the bobble began to affect her teeth, we realized it was time to ween her from the bobble. I mean she was about to enter kindergarten. No, not really, but she was getting a little old for the thing. Not that we had not entertained the idea before, but now we had to do it. This is not an easy thing with a strong willed child! Eventually, and actually much more smoothly than we imagined, she let go of the bobble.

I was so excited, and proud of what Casey and I had done. It was such a sense of accomplishment. UNTIL I realized she had stopped rubbing my ear when I was rocking her. You see, she had apparently given that up too. I was not ready for this. I had become very accustomed to this practice. It appeared I needed her soft touch as much as she needed my ear. This was just one of the many hard transitions to come. Oh what I wouldn't give for just one more moment of that sweet baby rubbing my ear.

Still wrapped around her finger,

Emma Ray's Mom

It's a Cuppy

2009-10-13T08:42:00.000-07:00

Early this morning, I was abruptly awakened by my baby boy asking for his "sippy". As usual, he had wandered in sometime during the wee morning hours. I stumbled into the kitchen to pour some juice in his sippy cup. I wandered back to my room, and snuggled up next my boy. He was suddenly very content. All was perfect in his world again. Then suddenly it hit me!

What happened to "cuppy"? This has been his name for his sippy cup since he had a name for it. This is his cute mispronunciation or combination of the words sippy and cup. Eventually, he settled on "cuppy". Why is he now calling it a "sippy"? It is just another jolting reminder that my baby is growing up.

Several nights ago, Cooper was in the floor playing with a hermit crab. The same one's that he warns everyone about, saying, "the crab bite your penis". All of that thanks to his father's weird imagination and relentless teasing. He yelled in the other room to his big sister, "Come look at this Emma!" She entered the room saying, "I'll look if you'll call me MeRay instead of Emma." You see, "Me Ray" is what he has always called her. It is another one of his cute mispronunciations. Me Ray is his way of saying Emma Ray. In that moment, the big sister all of seven, also noticed that his cute and innocent "babiness" was slipping away. Much like her mom, she was trying desperately to stop the process. Can I just put a brick on his head and make it stop?

Pretty soon, I know that my sweet four year old middle child will realize that we live on Pleasant Valley Road. Man will I miss her telling me that we live on "Villey Valley" road. I guess it is just the natural coarse of progression. After all, it would be a shame for her to incorrectly fill out the address section of her college applications!

Missing My Baby,

Cooper's Mom

Walk To Emmaus

2009-09-16T17:33:00.000-07:00

Well, I am packing and getting ready for my Walk to Emmaus. I am leaving tomorrow afternoon for Leuters, Texas. I will be staying three nights and four days. I am anxiously excited about the experience. I feel anxious, because I am leaving my kids for four days. The list I have given my husband is several pages long. I just pray he can get everyone to their destinations on time with the proper clothing and supplies. It is amazing all of the things that I am in charge of everyday. It is a little daunting to try to describe these tasks for someone else to carry out. Don't get me wrong, Casey is a very awesome and competent Daddy. I just want everything to run smoothly. I am excited, because I cannot wait to see what God has in store for me. Casey recently returned from his walk with such a renewed outlook on his relationship with the Lord. I am looking forward to an awesome encounter with God. I so desire to just bask in His presence. I have so many things that I would just love to lay before Him in prayer. I am so looking forward to seeing what he has planned for me and my family.