Tuesday, August 28, 2012


I figure it's only fair to do an All About Sasha post.

Sasha doesn't currently have any new stuff going on that's outside of himself. He is, however, having a lot of internal changes. First, he's really mastering the three-word sentence, and even four worders are coming out of him. Take last night. 3:47 AM. "Mom! Mom! Mooooommmm!" I stumble into his room. Then he says, "Mom! Binkie! I found it!" and rolled over and went back to sleep. Great. Glad I got up for that newsflash. Still, despite my drowsy state, I was a little prideful about his advanced sentence construction.

Sasha is also having a much easier time lately with Raiden's existence. It was hard for a while, although he was always completely sweet and loving to him. He's down to about two tantrums a day, a vast improvement. Usually he just needs food or sleep.

Speaking of Raiden, Sasha asks every day to "hold him." Then he smiles at his little brother as his head lies on Sasha's lap. He will also get right in Raiden's face and says, "Hi, Rai-den." So pre-cious.

Sasha also loves nursery. He runs right in (he never walks anywhere, it's always full speed ahead) to play with the kitchen or cars. He's a friendly little guy who isn't afraid of much. Plus, he's so cute! Check it:
(Okay, it's an older picture, but dang, he's CUTE!)

Monday, August 27, 2012

All About Sabrina

There are just some kids who just shouldn't play soccer. You know who they are, they're the flower pickers, the kids who are so busy with dandelions that they forget there's a ball on the field. Zane and I call them the "flower pickers." Yes, that is a creative name. Anyway, Zane and Sabrina were practicing soccer in the backyard a couple days ago, and as she was running to the ball, she pointed to the ground and said matter-of-factly, "I need to pick that flower." I was laughing so hard I was crying.

Sabrina started preschool today. I have no idea how it went. She happily went right in and downstairs with the other kids before I could even say goodbye. When I got there to pick her up, she just about cried (We don't need to cry, Sabrina) because I was 10 minutes early and they were playing I Spy. I could wait, I told her, and the tears went away. At the same time, she refused to put on her seatbelt, fought with Sasha the second we got home, and threw a tantrum when I pulled her out of her room so Sasha could take a nap. So, she has fun but is also stressed with the change to being a big girl? I think so. She also woke up in the night, which I attribute to the same thing.

Next week Sabrina also starts preschool tumbling. She already likes to pose in the front room (Mom! Look at me!), and I made her a ribbon stick like in the rhythmic gymnastics in the Olympics, and she's getting really good (Mom! Watch my dance!) at swirling it around without stepping on it. Basically, she's getting to be her own little person, and it's scaring us both!

Friday, August 17, 2012

A week without

For the past week, Zane, Sabrina, and Spencer have been in Lake Powell. Not wanting to be home alone, I stayed at my parents' house from Saturday until Wednesday. Here are some random thoughts.

Sasha sleeps better in his own bed. Two nights he insisted on sleeping with me instead of on a bed of his own. Both nights he fell out of the bed onto strategically placed pillows, where he remained for the rest of the night. Sadly, he woke up early due to his position on the floor.

My parents have easy-open doors. Sasha learned to open them. Sasha can now open doors here. Goodbye, nap. (sob)

Raiden sleeps through the night wherever. Just give him his hands to suck on, and he's good. Love that boy.

Although I like having my own house and all, there are benefits to living with your mom and dad. For example, home-cooked meals I didn't have to cook, free entry on a grandparent season pass to the zoo, a one-to-one ratio of kids to grownups at the zoo (no Sabrina + no Zane + one grandpa = yay!), and more adoring adults to love my kids.

I have sort of felt like I was on vacation as well, what with Sabrina gone and Zane on vacation. I really need to establish my own identity, or something. But I have not wanted to clean or do other work-like stuff since I've been home. I have, though. Props to me. (BTW, "props" is short for "proper respect." Yeah, I didn't know that either.)

With luck, Zane will be home in a few hours. The house is clean, Spencer's bed is set up (for the THIRD TIME. I TOLD YOU SO), and I'm all ready to do laundry. I miss my family.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012


Thought this post was going to be about the London 2012 Olympics, right? Well, they have been very exciting, and I don't care what people say, I'm all about Oosa pride. I even taught Sasha to say "Go oosa." I tried "Go USA" at first, but he didn't really get it. He's only to 3-word sentences now, so it was too much. And I've been following Gabby Douglas a lot too. She trains at the same gym Karen, my sister-in-law, occasionally works at, so I feel all connected with her. And also, every time we pull away from China in overall medal count, I get all excited. I mean, do you know how many national resources they put into beating us? And yet, we totally hang with them. Except in diving, where they are freaking amazing. And table tennis and badminton. But whatever. We win at volleyball.

Regardless of the previous paragraph, I've been depressed about our Froerer Family Olympics. These are an annual tradition at the Froerer Family Compound. Since I've had three kids in 3 years and 10 months, I've been pregnant for two of these Olympics, and then this one, 8 weeks postpartum. When I was pregnant, I was okay with being the slowest runner, the most awkward jumper, whatever. I also was okay with winning the soccer kick and (most importantly) the dessert competition.

This year, I was feeling good enough, recovered enough, to not be okay with any of these things. I didn't even take part in the situp competition, and a good thing too. That night, I tried do do some. Eight. And that was with severe cheating. My abs didn't burn and ache, they just DIDN'T EXIST. They weren't there. "But Molly," one might say, "you had just had your abs stretched out and CUT IN HALF. It's okay." Yeah. But I'm not that girl. I'm not the girl who can't do nine situps. I reject that girl.

In that spirit, I've been doing situps every day. I'm up to 35! More than my age (barely). I've also started exercising every day on our former clothes rack, the exercise machine. I'm still plateauing with my weight, but whatever. I'm getting sweaty almost every day, and soon the weight will come off. You hear me, weight? You're coming off! And next year? I'm totally kicking everybody's butt in situps. Even Karen. (fingers crossed)