Signage

On Saturday, as I headed out to the backyard to start my garden, I noticed some new signage around our house.

This one was on the front of their playhouse. Apparently, wasps have been coming into the playhouse. This is their warning to keep out.

The sign itself probably isn't terribly frightening to a wasp, but the can above it will surely do the trick. But just in case a particularly brave, or stupid, wasp decides to risk it and head inside the house, he will soon regret it.

I'm not sure what will happen to this rogue wasp when he realizes he "shouldn't of" come in, but I'm sure he'll be sorry.

The last sign was inside the garage. There's a story behind this one. My darling husband, in an attempt to keep the garage somewhat neat has purchased a bike rack. There's a slot for each child's bike and trust me, there is hell to pay if the bikes aren't where they belong. (If you know my husband, you know that there is NEVER hell to pay where he's concerned. If you don't know him, trust me. There is never hell to pay.)

The kids have done pretty well at keeping up with the bikes. But alas, their dad forgot about one thing: scooters. There are no slots for scooters. And he is forever tripping over, kicking, or almost running over their Razor scooters. Until today, we haven't had a real solution to this problem.

Hmmm...should I worry that there are no scooters actually parked here? Nah, the garage is Dad's area. Now, off to convince Avery to make a sign that says "Pick up your toys, clean up your mess, and for Pete's sake, flush the toilet!"

Not So Grown Up After All (Thank goodness!)

Avery is 7. She'll be 8 in May and it's all moving too fast for me. She's becoming much more independent, and doesn't seem to need me as much as she used to. (sob!) Don't get me wrong. She still wants to snuggle and sleep in Mommy's bed, but only at night when all her friends have gone home and it's just us.
It seems that, every day, she's asking for more and more freedom. She wants to go to the park with her friends, without me. She wants to walk the neighbor's dog, without me. She wants to walk to school, without me. I try to let go, little bits at a time. We compromise. She can go to the park, but she has to take a walkie talkie so I can talk to her whenever I want to. She can walk the neighbor's dog, but only if the dog's owner's big brother goes with them. She can't walk to school alone yet, but she gets to walk by herself, after school, all the way to the crossing guard a block away and I pick her up there.
Yesterday, we walked her to school. She asked to ride her bike and I said yes. The neighbor boys (owners of previously mentioned dog) rode by on their bikes and she asked if she could go with them. I said yes, and that I would be coming behind them.
They rode off and were far enough ahead of us that I couldnt' see them anymore. I really was ok with it, but I had the backpack, so I had to go on up to school. Before we got to the street the school is on, I see Avery riding her bike toward me. I said "Honey, you didn't have to come back. I was bringing your backpack." She burst into tears. She said, through tears, "Momma, I couldn't even see you. We were too far ahead. I wanted to see you, so I came back. I'm not ready to ride my bike without you."
I almost burst into tears too, but instead just yelled inside my own head "Thankyou, God! She still needs me!"
All I said to her was "Honey, I'm always here," and then floated all the way to school on a cloud of mommy-bliss.

Daddy Daughter Dance

Every year, our city holds a Daddy/Daughter Dance. It's pretty self-explanatory; Dads take their daughters to a dance. Some people go all out with this...fancy dresses, limos, makeup and hair done at the salon, etc. (That was never going to happen at our house, by the way. A new dress and lots of extra attention are treat enough, in my opinion.) We've never even considered going because frankly, that's not Avery's thing and until this year, Reese wasn't old enough to go.

Aaron asked Reese if that was something she would like to do. She didn't hesitate before shouting "YES!" We didn't think Avery would be interested in going, but of course, in the interest of fairness, we had to offer it. Surprisingly, she said yes. I told her she had to dress up and she was still ok with it. So, with both girls in, we had to make a decision. There are different dance times for different ages. Unfortunately, Reese's dance was from 2-3:30 and Avery's was from 4-5:30. Reese was allowed to go to Avery's dance, but older kids can't go to a younger dance. At first we thought they would all go together, then we considered the logistics of both girls wanting Aaron's attention. Being the sweet, considerate Daddy that he is, Aaron decided to go to two separate dances. (Yes, that meant he had to buy two separate tickets for himself. Told you he was sweet.)

The girls and I started shopping for dresses. Avery was easy. I asked if she wanted to go shopping and she said "No, I'm just wearing a girl shirt and jeans." Uh oh. I explained to her that she needed to wear a dress. It didn't have to be fancy, but she needed to dress up. She reluctantly agreed. We found a cute black dress at Gap online, ordered it and some tall boots. Avery is done.

Reese, as expected, took a bit longer. We hit four stores and tried on at least 12 dresses before we found the perfect compromise of fancy, affordable and seasonally appropriate. Fortunately, shoes were easier. Only two stores and three different styles before we found the one.

She tried her entire outfit on at least three times before Dance Weekend and could hardly wait. Avery was excited about going, but definitely more low-key. Aaron told each girl she could choose the tie he would wear and Avery was mostly excited that he agreed to wear his OU tie to her dance.

The day of the dance was exactly as you might imagine. Avery went to softball practice while Reese got ready for her dance. She took a long bath, and then put on her robe while we got her ready.

Here she is after her hair was dried, but before it was straightened and styled.

And here she is after styled hair, waiting for her nails to dry. The cutest thing about all of this was her excitement level. I bet she said at least 10 times, "Mom, this is so exciting!" or "Mom, I think I look so beautiful."

And here's the finished product, with her "date":

I love that Aaron thought of ordering corsages for the girls. They loved it too.

Obviously, I didn't get to attend the dance. In fact, Aaron took a picture of a sign at the dance that said "No Moms Allowed." But, I can just about picture how Reese pranced around at the dance. Aaron said she basically led him around the room the entire time, getting snack after snack, looking for her friends (not sure who she thought she was going to see, but she didn't see anyone she knew. That didn't stop her from looking). Aaron said they didn't dance until the very end, and the dancing was more spinning Reese and twirling her in the air. I can only imagine. She is very, um, commanding when she wants to be. And she LOVES to have someone cater to her. She may have been a princess in a former life.

While Reese was at her dance, Avery watched TV. I made her take a bath and wash her hair early so it could start to dry. I knew she wasn't going to tolerate a lot of time in front of the mirror fixing her hair. In fact, she told me more than once that I was driving her crazy, trying to curl her hair. "It's already curly, Mom! Why do you have to curl it again?" I didn't even bother trying to explain it to her. I must say, once she got ready, I think she enjoyed it. She seemed proud of her outfit and was excited about the dance. I didn't get many pictures of her.

Here are some pictures after Reese's dance and before Avery's.

Reese was very depressed when Aaron and Avery left for the dance. You know that "let-down" after a big event? She had it big time. I didn't know if I would be able to bring her out of it, then I reminded her that we were all going out for a family dinner and she would still be wearing her fancy outfit. That perked her up.

Aaron's report on his dance with Avery: They danced. Big time. A lot. The food line was long and the picture line was even longer, so they just got their groove on the entire time. I would have given just about anything to be a fly on the wall to see this. Aaron doesn't dance. Ever. Ok, not ever. He has danced with me about 4 times in our 11 years together. I'm glad he was able to overcome his dislike of public dancing because he made two little girls very, very happy.

Thanks, Daddy, for making your girls feel so special. What a great day!

Christmas 2010

So, I didn't take any pictures of my kids at Christmas. I know, I know...loser parent. I don't know what happened to me this year. I didn't get the camera out on Christmas morning at home (that has honestly never happened since Avery was born) and I didn't get the camera out on Christmas night in Oklahoma. I had the camera with me, I just didn't use it. I didn't think much of it at the time, only a nagging feeling that maybe I should have...but now I'm depressed about it. I feel like a bad mother who doesn't think her kids are cute or funny anymore, so why bother with pictures. So I'm sad. Luckily, I do have this group of pictures to make me laugh...in fact, after looking at the results of this "photo shoot" I dare you to NOT have a smile on your face.

Here's the background story: My mom realized a few months ago that her grandkids' ages, as of Christmas Day, would be exactly 1,2,3,4,5,6,7, and 8. So she just knew she had to commemorate this occasion. She bought them all bright colored sweatshirts and painted wooden numbers for each of them to hold. We (she and I) honestly thought we could pull this off without a hitch. Ok, we thought there might be like, ONE hitch, but we really thought we'd get an excellent, beautiful, adorable picture of all 8 children. I guess we forgot that two of these numbers are ONE and TWO. You've probably guessed by now that things didn't go as planned. Especially with a TWO year old involved. A tired, overwhelmed, cranky two year old. What were we thinking?

Here's what we ended up with....

Here's one with RJ (Mr. Two) crying.

Here's one with Mr. Two leaving.

Here's one with Uncle Bo putting the 2 in front of him...notice he tries to kick it over. If memory serves me correctly, he did, in fact, kick it over.

Here's one with Mr. Two throwing the 2.

Here's one with Mr. Two crying again...and yet, we still haven't taken the hint that this picture is NOT going to happen.

Here's a repeat of Uncle Bo and the kicking. Seriously, it happened twice. I can prove it by the numbers on the pictures.

I will end by saying that these are the best pictures that came out of my camera. There are shots with my sister making threats to Mr. Two (he didn't care), there are shots of Mr. One leaving and crying (He sat more still and stopped crying when Mr. Two was doing his thing...he knew he wasn't going to be able to upstage that one), there are more shots of Uncle Bo trying his hardest to give Mr. Two his 2. And even more shots of Mr. Two throwing, kicking and generally hating the 2. So we gave up.

We are giving serious thought to using this one and photoshopping Mr. One and Mr. Two in on a happier, less exhausted day. What do you think?

(FYI- I have no clue how to photoshop people into a picture so we have a better chance of Mr. Two calling me up, apologizing for his crankiness that evening, and asking if we can reschedule the photo shoot than we do of me getting the picture my mom wanted. But hey, I'd like to thank Mr. Two for making me laugh out loud every time I look at these pictures. I can't wait until he's Mr. Twenty-Two so I can show him!)

Reese is 5!!

Actually, Reese has been 5 for almost two months. I'm just a lazy, bad mother who can't keep up with anything. Thank you to my sister for reminding me that I'm not keeping up with this blog. I am pretty sure that, by this point, she is the only one reading, but if I don't document my kids' childhood here, I doubt I'll remember it! So thanks, Lauren, for nudging me.

Part of me can't believe Reese is already FIVE. Five is a kid. Not even a hint of baby left. (Well, except for the fact that she still sucks her fingers when she's sad or sleepy!) The other part of me can totally believe it because she acts about nine sometimes. She is still a sweetie, but is also becoming quite a drama queen. When she is told "no," she can wail and whine that life is no fair, she never gets anything, and she can't believe how sad she feels. She has actually said "I can't believe you just let me cry like this!"

But she is also pretty funny. Most of the time, she's not trying. Like here:

This was an outfit that Avery wore and I bought it for her because it wasn't too girly, but still cute. It's now in Reese's drawer, but hadn't been worn until this day. I said "Reese, you look cute in that outfit" and she said "Yeah, it's like I just got off of a horse." I have no idea what that means...maybe because it has patches, or maybe because it's jean shorts. I asked her what she meant and she responded with "Well, just look at it." So look at it. Do you think she looks like she just got off of a horse????

She is also a fabulous big sister to Rhett. As long as Avery isn't around, the two of them get along fabulously. (Isn't there always a problem when there is an odd number of kids?) Here they are, pretending to go on "a-cation."

Here she is on her actual 5th birthday, looking too precious and way too grown up:

And here she is last week, after begging me to wrap her like a present and put her under the tree:
Best present I ever got! Love you, Sweet Reesie!

Reese

So I'm way behind AGAIN. I have a post for Reese's birthday, but haven't downloaded pictures yet. So, even though this isn't a long post and there are tons of things I've skipped, I had to get it in writing before I forget.

Reese's teacher told me after school that she was really quiet today - that she just didn't seem like herself. So, on the car ride home I said "Reesie, Mrs. White said you were super quiet. Do you know why?" Her answer killed me. She said "It was a sad day. I was at the end of the line, then I had to sit by myself because Jack was being mean, then no one would play with me at recess and I was all by myself. And I don't know why because I'm a fun girl."

First of all, I have to say, I don't know if there is a worse feeling than when you are left out of something. Second, I know it won't be the last time she's left out of something, so I hope she keeps that "I'm a fun girl" self-confident attitude forever! You go, Reesie!!

I Found My USB Cord!!!!

After a month of living in the new house, I still have at least 10 boxes that still need to be unpacked. I haven't actually unpacked even one box in the past week - until today. And guess what I found? My USB cord for my camera, so that I can download pictures to my computer again!

Here is a little bit of what I found...

This is Avery with her pet hamster, Digger. We told her she could buy a hamster if she earned the money. I figured a hamster with cage was about $30. I told her she had to earn $25 and I would pay for anything extra. Guess what I found out? Hamsters are not as disposable as I thought. With cage, food, and rodent, the total came to a whopping $65. Digger is supposed to be a test to see how ready Avery is for a puppy. She has been dying for one since she was about 3 and I am dying for her NOT to have one. I'm not too worried right now since I have been the one to supply Digger with food and water for the last two weeks. Anyway, the point is that she loves the hamster...and he has survived for over two months, which is a record in our house!

Above is a picture of Reese feeding her baby. I don't think this picture requires any explanation, except that I think it's precious!

Here's a picture of Reese and Rhett on their first day of Small Fry Soccer. Reese loved it and is convinced she is going to sign up for soccer...unless she signs up for softball. Or she wants to keep doing dance. Or cheerleading. Or maybe volleyball, if they have it. Basically, the girl can't make up her mind. So we'll wait and see what time of year it is when she lands on a decision!

Here are Reese and Rhett taking one of their last baths in our old house...

...and here are their handprints in the concrete patio in the backyard. If I could have taken this, I would have. It still brings a tear to my eye to see it:

We miss our old house - it was so us - but we do love our new one and are enjoying making it ours.

I will end with a picture of the newest chapter in our lives: Our first night in the new house...tired from a long day of moving, but happy and excited to be here!

Reese

Reese is still dressing herself 5 days a week. Now that she's in school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we decide together what she will wear, but I give her free reign most other days..

There aren't many years in life that you can get away with a swimsuit and heels...I'm going to let the girl express herself while she can! Besides, it always gives me something to smile about!

.

Second Grader

Avery has started second grade! SECOND! I have a second grader! Lord, help me....
She has even started wearing some girl clothes...anything with skulls on it is fair game!

Interesting Development

Perhaps one of the more interesting developments in the last couple of months is Rhett's choice of sleepwear....

He absolutely loves to wear Reese's pajamas lately.

But oddly enough, he doesn't like it when we laugh at him. Or photograph him while laughing. Go figure.

Updates...

There are countless reasons I haven't posted in a while:

1. I'm lazy.
2. We are moving! Just to a new house, not a new city...same neighborhood, same schools, just more toilets! :)
3. I started a new job, teaching 3 year olds at a Christian preschool. I'm tired.
4. I got an iphone, which I stare at any time I'm not packing or working. Laptops are SO 2008.

Anyway, I'm about to post a gazillion different posts all at once. I love keeping up with our daily life as much as possible, because Lord knows I won't remember it in 20 years!!!

A New Excuse

Me: Girls, you guys need to clean all these crayons and books off of the table if you are wanting to decorate these cookies.

Reese: Mom, just wait one minute. Avery has to save the world.

I wonder how long that takes...I mean, should I just clean the dadgum table myself?

The Biker Bar

Yes, they are pretending that they are in a biker bar. When they asked if they could move furniture, those words were not used. As a parent, I know I should discourage them from pretending they are in a bar. I wrestled with the "good parent" side of my brain for a good 5 minutes before I decided to just keep my mouth shut and see how this thing plays out. When I was a kid we had candy cigarettes. And BB guns that worked. Plus, I think it's funny. And hey, it's better than TV or video games. At least they are using their imagination. So I let it go.
I have no idea how they know anything about biker bars. Honestly. I don't go to biker bars, my husband doesn't go to biker bars, we aren't related to any bikers or people that frequent biker bars. I am 99.9% sure we haven't had a discussion about biker bars. Nevertheless, here we are. In a biker bar. Avery and Rhett are both bikers. I can see it in Avery. She's wearing a leather jacket and a do-rag with flames on it. And a black and silver belt that you cannot see. She looks tough and biker-ish. What I do not understand is why Rhett is wearing a windbreaker zipped to the top, hood tight around his face. I have never, EVER seen a biker wearing a windbreaker with the hood up. For that matter, I don't think I've ever seen a tough, macho type wearing a windbreaker with the hood up. But he tells me he's a tough guy named "Crayon," so there.
Reese is dressed as Snow White. Because of this, obviously, she wasn't allowed in at first. She cried and wailed about the injustice, but the bikers weren't budging. They finally told her that if she put on a tough jacket and didn't talk about girl stuff, she could come in. She brought her stuffed cat and wore a crown, but she didn't breathe a word of princess-y, girly chatter. In fact, she even came up with the idea of getting Cokes and pretending they were beers. Yes, I let them. I know, I know. Bad parenting. But I said no at first...and I reminded them that beer was for grown ups, 21 and over. And remember? We had candy cigarettes. And I don't smoke. I even once snorted Pixy Stix (80's party scenes on TV all the time) and pretended it was cocaine and I've never done cocaine in my life. So they'll be ok. Right?
Don't answer. And do not, under any circumstance, tell me about it if you someday see one of these children in a bar, or on a motorcycle or drinking beer. I don't want to know.

What is this little weirdo doing????

He is looking at our family pictures, saying "I wuff you Reese, I wuff you Avery, I wuff me, I wuff Mommy and Daddy. And I wuff God." Awwwwwww...kinda makes you feel bad for calling him a little weirdo, huh?

P.S. I need to document why the pictures are no longer on the wall. Last weekend, Aaron went on a boys' trip to the Jersey Shore (he swears there was no fist pumping, but I'm not convinced). Not only was I home alone with all three kids for three nights and four days, but I painted our hallway. I did it right, too, just like my Dad taught me. Cleaned the baseboards, taped them off, cleaned the walls, etc. I worked so hard, and now, I'm having a hard time knowing what i want to do in this newly clean, unstained space. It really doesn't matter what I do with it. I will know (and more importantly, Aaron will know) every time I look at it that I did it all by myself. With three kids underfoot and no one to help with anything. I rock. (Sorry...there are so few times I can say that about myself, that I have to take every opportunity to do so.)

Remember These?

Remember these?

This is one of those little craft kits you can pick up at Hobby Lobby...I bought tons of little kits on that aisle at the beginning of the summer. The kids love stuff like this. I got this kit out yesterday morning and they have worked almost non-stop (we took breaks for meals and a brief water balloon fight this morning) on them ever since. After lunch today, Reese and Avery went right back to work on theirs. I was still arguing with Rhett over eating the grilled cheese he asked me to make and then refused to eat. All of a sudden, he starts crying. At first, I thought it was over the food and I was about to send him to his room. Then I noticed that he's grabbing at his face. I asked what was wrong and he cries, "It hurts!" At that exact moment, a tiny pink bead came flying out of his nose. But he kept crying. And digging in his nose. "Are there any more up there?" I asked. He nodded his head yes. I said "Why?" and immediately dismissed the question and any answer that might have followed. I told him to blow his nose as hard as he could. Nothing. Well, not nothing, but no beads came out. I pinched his nose and felt something hard in there. He squealed even louder, yelling "Dat hurt, Momma!" Definitely still beads up his nose. I told him to keep blowing while I called the doctor's office. As snot flies all over the kitchen, the message service at the doctor's office answers. Great. They're on lunch break. I honestly don't know if this is an emergency or not. I hear about kids doing this all the time...so I know he's not going to die. But do I need to rush to an ER or can I wait for the doctor to eat lunch? I call my husband to see if he knows. (Rhett is still blowing) Of course, he doesn't answer. I hang up, tell the girls to finish their popsicles because we are going to the doctor. As I spin in circles wondering what to do first, Rhett yells, happily, "It's right there!" I look down and there, at his feet, is a tiny green bead, covered in snot. Whew. That was a close one. If you looked at him right now, you'd never know he was in the middle of a traumatic meltdown just 5 minutes ago. I'm glad we didn't have to go to the doctor and have some nasty probe shoved up Rhett's nostril, because you just know I would have had to hold him down. Yes, I am definitely relieved...and I think I'll just leave that "Why?" alone for now.

Gambling

I am sitting in the living room, watching my husband teach my children how to play poker. Reese delightedly tells me, "Momma, we are gambling!" I say, sort of jokingly, "You know, I don't think God likes for us to gamble." Avery responds with, "But I'm really good at it!"

Ok, so I know I need to spend a little more time on the importance of God's rules, but I must admit, I find it hilariously adorable when Avery holds up her hands and says "Whoa, I'm out...you got me this time," as if she knows what she is doing.

Avery's Birthday

I'm so behind...on the blog, in my scrapbooks, and in life in general. I just downloaded pictures off of my camera. There were 160. I realized, after downloading and beginning to edit, that I never acknowledged or posted pictures of Avery's birthday, which was on May 20th. Better late than never, I guess! Happy 7th, Baby Girl!

Her actual birthday was a Thursday. We invited a couple of friends over after school and we ordered pizza and played in the water. She said it was one of the best parties ever - and it didn't cost me a dime, except for the pizza!

Her "real" party was on Saturday, at Grammy's (in Oklahoma). We had planned to go to Great Wolf Lodge for the weekend, but somehow, Grammy's was mentioned. We gave Avery the option and she didn't hesitate before shouting, "GRAMMY'S!" She also said the only present she wanted for her birthday was to get to sleep with Grammy. I'm not going to expect this kind of low maintenance birthday forever, but I sure am happy about it for now!

Here are a few pics from the weekend in Oklahoma:

It was a pretty typical backyard birthday party...she had presents...

and cake....

and frog and turtle races...

(FYI-the frog won)!

They had a water balloon fight...

...and when the water balloons ran out, Aunt La La drenched them!

Spending her birthday with her cousins was exactly what she wanted. She had the best time! When we woke up on Sunday, she almost cried when she realized we had to go home. Her daddy told her we could stay later than usual, and Auntie Em and I decided to help the kids have a lemonade stand.

Here are the kids, waiting for the signs, which I was in charge of.

The big kids all had jobs. Avery and JD were in charge of pouring lemonade, Reese and Macy were in charge of the money. That left Big Tuna with no job. He was a little sad until Uncle Josh and Daddy came up with the idea to put him in a sandwich board and have him walk up and down the driveway, advertising the stand.

I made the lemon signs and Josh taped them to a Bud Light box (always classy!). We tied the lemons together with twine and voila!

How stinking cute is that?

Looking at this makes me want to have a lemonade stand in the front yard right now. Let me just go empty this Bud Light box real quick......

Why We Need Our Own Pool

I took Reese and Rhett to the neighborhood pool today since Avery is having a campout in the library at school. (I don't think Avery will think it was a fair comparison, but I do the best I can.)
Anyway, taking them to the pool isn't relaxing. They are doing better with their floaties this year, but we're not at the point where I am just lying by the pool, reading a magazine. I'm in the water with them, swimming, most of the time. Today, after letting them jump to me 432 times, I suggested that they swim with me so I could get some laps in. After letting Reese "ride" for a while, it was Rhett's turn. He hadn't been on 3 seconds, when he started screaming "A WHALE! I'M RIDING A WHALE!" He didn't say it once. Or twice. It was constant, the entire time he was on my back. I froze for a second, then tried to play it cool. I knew if I stopped, all the spectators would know that I thought I was a whale. Going along with it, I think, conveys the message that I'm completely comfortable with my body and am totally fine with my son screaming that I'm a whale. Still, I stayed under as long as I could before I had to come up for air. Luckily the pool wasn't as crowded as it normally is, but the walk of shame to my bag was still quite, well, shameful.
We need our own pool.

Times Have Changed

The Baby Doctor

What kid doesn't like to hear the story about the day they were born? Avery has always asked me questions about what it was like when she was a baby, but tonight was the first time Reese has asked about the day she was born. I started telling her how excited we were to finally meet her, but then how the doctor came in and said there was something wrong. I told her how he said we have to get her out NOW. I told her how a bunch of nurses came in and how they were all preparing me to have a baby with some sort of problem. And I told her that they sent in a bunch of baby doctors to take care of her as soon as she came out.
The minute I said "baby doctors," Reese got tickled. Avery wanted me to tell the rest of the story, but Reese kept interrupting, saying, "I can't believe they had baby doctors there!" I thought she was just fascinated that she was the center of such a big ordeal. At least that's what I thought until about 10 minutes ago, when she held up her hands to indicate a small sized person and said "Mom, were those doctors like this big?' She honestly thought I meant the doctors were babies. Not a doctor FOR babies, but that the baby doctors were actually babies who were doctors.
No wonder she was so tickled...who wouldn't laugh at that?
Thank you Reesie...from now on, when I remember the day you were born, instead of feeling panicked and seeing a gazillion health care professionals staring at me, waiting to deliver a sick child, I will always see that delivery room full of little tiny babies, standing around wearing scrubs and lab coats, as their stethoscopes drag the ground!