Molly Piper

Orison led the charge in writing these letters to Santa on Christmas Eve. He even served as scribe for Morrow for his letter!

Thankfully we already had a remote control car for Orison and a clipboard lying around the house to give him. A friend of ours ran an 11th-hour errand to pick up the construction paper. Orison was thrilled!

Morrow didn’t seem to notice or care that he didn’t get anything on his list. I think probably the power of suggestion (read: Orison) was responsible for most of the things on there anyway.

And bonus points for anyone who can tell me the source for the question to Santa, “Did you have a good summer?”

[photo via the amazing Wendy Maybury]

Some of you will have gotten one of these in the mail recently, but not all of you. I wish I had the money (and time) to send them to all of you, because getting personal mail is just that awesome, isn’t it?

But I do sincerely want to thank you all for your continued participation here on my site. And I wish you the merriest of Christmases and the happiest of New Years from our Piper clan!

I apologize for the poor quality of this video (taken with my phone), but I just had to show you why I don’t blog anymore.

I had walked out of the room for a minute and then found all three of them up on the bed when I came back. I have no idea how they did that! And then they were all rockin’ out and dancing together. It was awesome.

This is why I rarely have bloggable thoughts. Imagine this kind of energy, all day, every day–awesome and exhausting.

My husband Abraham started a new blog. You might know that he’s run 22 Words for a long time, but just recently he started a more personal blog where he can be more of a…well…person.

Anyway, he wrote a really funny post about how he’s been trying to manage the incessant potty humor going on between our two oldest boys.

BONUS: There’s a short video, too!

Happy Friday, everyone. Next week I’ll have a fun giveaway, so be sure to check back!

This past weekend we took the family to central Wisconsin for a few days away. Now that we have a school-aged kiddo, our time away has to coincide with fall breaks and such–still getting used to that.

We left Wednesday night and I drove while everybody slept. I typically do the lion’s share of driving on road trips. I don’t mind it, I can stay awake pretty well, and then I don’t have to be the one turning around every 10 seconds to hand something to a kid in the seat behind me.

The rest of the weekend was pretty uneventful, which was just what we needed. No internet connection, friends. NO INTERNET CONNECTION! (Which I believe is directly responsible for us getting 9+ hours of sleep every night. Glorious!!!)

I found out that Orison’s a kid after my own heart, a true lover of Little House on the Prairie DVDs (which Morrow calls “House on the Fairy”). We watched a good bit of Season 1 together.

Funny about my love for Little House… I thought it was horribly boring as a kid and never watched it. But then after I was married and had Orison, Abraham went back to school full-time (and was working full-time). Needless to say, I had a lot of alone time that year and a half.

Since it was in the days of yore (pre-Netflix and streaming video, dontcha know), I had to busy myself at night with these things called DVDs. A friend of mine owned all the seasons of Little House and convinced me to take the first set.

I had no intention of liking it, but then how can you not shed a tear when the man who can’t speak makes a bell for the church with the help of all the children of Walnut Grove? Or when Pa makes a prosthesis for the girl with the limp? How does that not get you right.there????

Anyway, just thought I’d confess publicly that I’m a Little House junkie. And I’ve turned one of my sons into one, too.

(He’s kind of a sensitive kid, but I have to say both Abraham and I were a little shocked when he started openly weeping and lamenting during Stuart Little when Stuart decided to leave. He also laughed the hardest I’ve ever heard him laugh during the final wrestling scene of Nacho Libre.)

In other news…

-The twins went on their first hayride at the local pumpkin fest thingy.

-We played a lot in the yard because the weather was sublime.

-The kids went crazy in the open cinder block basement at night.

-And did I mention that I slept 9 hours each night?!?!

It was a super good weekend. Hope you all had a good one, too!

This morning when I was taking Orison to school, Morrow was hanging out with our nanny. He told her, “I hear the ferlickity truck!”

Any guesses?

After a few more questions, she deciphered that he was saying recycling truck!

Later in the morning he was telling her about a movie and kept talking about the “Colosorus.” [kuh-LAH-suh-rus]

He was talking about a rhinoceros! Cute!

He also says “Tamorine” for submarine. And he has “tamorines” on his Pull-Ups (which he’s still using. Because he’s still not fully trained).

All of these things are too cute for even this Speech Language Pathologist to correct, except maybe that potty thing (still working on it-ARGH!)!

Also, if you know me in person (IRL if you will), you know I’m a word-clipper. My BFF Danielle and I have been like this since college. It’s a mother’s pure joy to know her children are following her example.

Morrow’s been known to use “fave” for favorite and “Sars!” for sorry.

Be still my heart. This kid is too much. I think I might cry tears of joy the first time he uses “adorbs!”

[photo via]

I broke one of my cardinal rules, friends. You know, the ones that you yell at all your other family members for breaking? And then, one day…you do it?

Okay, here it is:

I opened a 2nd gallon of milk when there was already another open.

[GASP!!!]

This is a serious infraction. Serious.

My OCD can hardly handle this.

What are your household cardinal rules? Ever broken one yourself?

I think it’s good to have rules. I also think it’s good for me to break my own rules sometimes, because then it destroys that I’m-so-awesome-at-following-rules pride thing that I can so easily go to (have you picked up that I’m a “good girl”?)

It seems like often when I’m about to RAGE with anger at someone in my family about SOMETHING they did that they SHOULDN’T do (leave a wet towel on the floor, open 2 milks, leave dirty clothes lying around) I’ll find a pair of my dirty underwear on the floor within minutes. Minutes.

Welp, that’s a pride-buster.

I’m not saying that happens every time and I’m always super patient and gentle with other people when they don’t follow my rules, I’m just thankful for the times I do have some victories from God to give grace to the people I love most.

Here in Minnesota we have a thing called a “Golden Birthday.” I’m sure it exists in other places too, I’d just never heard about it until I moved here. So a golden birthday goes like this: if you’re born on the 4th of the month, your golden birthday is when you turn 4.

I was lucky, because my birthday’s on the 23rd, and I found out about the golden birthday when I was 22 (phew!).

I’m proposing a Golden School Day…

• 1st day of 1st grade? Golden!
• 2nd day of 2nd grade? Golden!

…and so on.

But seriously, I’m just very glad that Orison had a great 1st day of 1st grade. He’s totally excited to be back at school, and that’s one of the best things a parent can hope for, school-wise.

How’d your kids do going back to school? You doing alright, moms and dads?

So some of you know this but many of you don’t.

In college, I took fencing for my required gym class. And I didn’t do it because I had to, I did it because I wanted to.

Penn State (at least at the time) had an excellent fencing program, and I was always fascinated by the sport and wanted to try it! So I did it!

(Sidenote: This is why I love large universities. You can explore nearly anything. There’s the running joke that you can take Underwater Basketweaving if you so choose.)

By the way, I loved that class. LOVED it. I know there’s fencing here in the Twin Cities, and I should probably get my kids in it some day. I’d love being a fencing mom.

My little Whit-man might be ready.

“Yeah, I’m figuring out this walking thing, so might as well have a sword in my hand, right???”

(Thanks, Katie, for the photos!)

I’ve heard some people call the next baby after a death your “Rainbow Baby.” And while that’s not wrong or anything, I’ve decided that doesn’t convey enough of what I feel about Morrow’s existence.

It’s pure Redemption–death, then life.

So happy birthday, Redemption Baby. You are more to me than you could ever know.

Sometimes I tell you your redemption story, and it usually goes something like this:

Mommy: Before you were born, Mommy had another baby in her tummy. Do you know what her name was?
MJ: Felicity.
Me: Yep, that’s right. And she grew and grew in my tummy, but then do you know what happened?
MJ: She died.
Me: Yeah, she died. And Mommy was really, really sad. I cried and cried and cried for a long time. Lots and lots of days. And Daddy cried lots and lots of days, too. But then do you know what happened?
MJ: What?
Me: God gave me another baby in my tummy. And do you know who that baby was?
MJ: Me!
Me: Yes, you. And when you grew and grew in my tummy I was still so sad. I missed your sister Felicity so much. But then it was time for you to come out of my tummy, and you know what?
MJ: What?
Me: I loved you so much. And every day that I held you and played with you and took care of you I loved you more and more. You made my heart so happy. And you make my heart happy every day. God made you so special for so many reasons. I’m glad I get to be your mommy.

So, Morrow–Mah-Jo, Mar, MahJoRahn, Mar-Mar, Jo-John, Chip–you have been a dynamic work of God in my life in the past three years, taking me from a place of death to a place of life.

Happy birthday, Redemption Baby.

(We celebrated Morrow’s birthday on Monday night, August 22nd. He was born 11 months to the day after his big sister, Felicity Margaret, was born still in 2007.)