Summer Fun

So, here is the latest in the chronicles of the Johnson family. The summer has been going well. It took me awhile to get used to being a stay-at-home mom again, but now that we're in the groove of it, the girls and I are having a blast. Mike has been keeping busy with teaching summer school and enrichment classes. He also painted Hannah's room and the bathroom. He ripped up the carpet in the girls' bathroom and tiled the floor. Next week, he will be painting Abby's room. In his off time, he takes the girls swimming and plays with them, so that Mommy can have a break.


Enjoy the news.

Hannah Rae

Here are some Hannah stories along with the pictures from her four-year-old photo shoot.

Someone told Hannah that she looks like a princess. She replied, “I know.” Who is your prince? “Daddy!”

I pointed out that Hannah is beginning to get sweet little blond hairs on her arms and legs. She was confused about it at first, because she had never noticed it before. The next day, she told me she was mad about them. I asked why. “Because they’re poking holes all over my skin!”

This summer, Hannah has been missing her preschool boyfriend. As we were discussing the traditional name change when a girl gets married, Hannah asked, “Mommy, what’s his last name?” If she could spell better, I’m sure she would have written Hannah Rogers all over her notebook. I finally called and set up a playdate for the kids. At the park, I was telling the father about the romance. He seemed skeptical. At the end of the date, I asked Hannah if she wanted to give her friend a hug goodbye. They gave a sweet 4-year-old embrace. But as he turned to leave, she puckered her lips. He looked at her for a moment before planting a kiss right on her mouth. His dad appeared shocked. “I told you,” I said. To which he replied, “I didn’t get a girl to kiss me on the lips until I was 30!”

Hannah was telling a story about some nice people. Everything was fine, a calm and lovely story, until Hannah introduced a character named “Amy.” She said, “And then Amy came in and said, ‘WHAT is the PROBLEM in here??”

Hannah was being her usual feisty self one morning. Mike and I began discussing what she'll be like as a teenager. He thinks she'll be like I was as a teenager. Not a happy thought. I said, "Well, you married me, so you must like this kind of personality. You deal with her!" He shot back, "I like 'em feisty!"

Later that same day, Hannah was arguing with me. I thought I would end the conversation when I said, "Don't you argue with me!" She looked me in the eyes and said, "Don't you argue with me!!"

Hannah told me that she doesn't like her hair. It seems that she's jealous that Abby and I have the same hair color, while she's stuck with "boy hair like Daddy." If she only knew.

Ode to Mike

Mike is busy this summer doing home improvements. He began by painting Hannah’s room. One morning, he announced that he was going to Home Depot for pink paint. We both thought that I should go, too, but I didn’t have the time, and we wanted to get started. That led to this conversation:

A: What shade of pink are you going to paint it?

M: Just pink.

A: But which kind of pink?

M: I’m just going to buy the paint that says pink.

A: There are probably hundreds of shades of pink there. They’re called like Bubble Gum Pink, Princess Pink, Ballet Pink. . . .

M: Well, when I went in for red paint, there was a color that was just called red. So, I’m going to look for the one called pink.

A: Okay.

(30 minutes later, he’s back with paint swatches.)

M: (Smiling) I can’t decide between Bubble Gum Pink and Fairytale Pink. You’re going to have to go down there.

Abby Lynn

Driving home one night, we were at a stoplight. There was a man on the corner. Instinctively, I checked the door locks. Abby began knocking on her window loudly. When he finally looked over, she waved cheerfully. He looked surprised but smiled and waved back. I love a child’s heart.

Abby brought home a “prayer box” that she had made in church. In it were things that she was praying for. Each slip was neatly printed on. When I pulled the first one out of the box, it said, “My Family.” How sweet. The second one said, “My best friend.” Ahhh. The last one was spelled perfectly, which told me that a teacher had helped her write it down. Imagine the teacher’s thoughts as Abby announced that she would like to pray for: “My sister’s lice.”

Abby was studying a toy quite intently. Finally, she looked up and sighed loudly. “Mommy? Was EVERY toy made in China??”

These are old pictures, but I don't think I've posted them before.

Isn't she beautiful?

A Pair of Rascals

The girls were playing in Hannah’s room with the door closed. I went to check on them and found Abby with a Sharpie. She had written all over their play vanity. Front and back. She got an earful and was punished. Later that week, we had friends over. The girls took one of our friends on a tour of their rooms. When they got to the vanity, they each had something to say:


Abby: “Mommy tells us not to play with markers, but really, a Sharpie isn’t a marker!”
Hannah: “Mommy got mad at Abby, because she didn’t see that I was writing with the Sharpie, too!”

We had friends over for a barbecue, and the girls were entertaining them. With 15 adults listening to them, they felt like stars. Abby announced, “I am going to have infinity babies when I grow up! I’m never taking the baby medicine!” Hannah had a reply. In a perfect Mike voice, she announced, “NO more BABIES in this HOUSE!”

Hannah has a high pain tolerance, while Abby is the exact opposite. Hannah went to the doctor to take care of some especially bad sores, and I knew the treatment was painful. When she got in the bath tonight, the hot water stung the wounds, making her cry. She seldom cries due to pain, and my heart broke because I couldn’t make it better. Abby was less sympathetic. “You think THAT’S bad?” she asked. “Look, Hannah! I have a paper cut on my finger!”

Hannah is in the stage where she just wants to do/have what Abby does/has. At a restaurant with my parents, Hannah was asked what she wanted to eat. She replied, “What’s Abby having?” My mom said that Abby was undecided. “Then I’M undecided, TOO!”

“Hannah, what do you want for breakfast?”
“The same thing that Abby’s having! (Pause.) Abby, what are you having?”

Hannah also announced that she will be changing her name to Abby. Abby is now changing hers to Abigail.

My sister-in-law and I have a deal worked out. When our kids play together, the visiting party leaves the house without cleaning up. My kids have finally figured this out, and they only want playdates at their cousins' house. When asked why, they say, "Because we don't have to clean up there! Everywhere else we go, we have to help put toys away!"

Happy Father's Day!

On Father’s Day, the girls and I were sitting at the breakfast table while Mike was in the kitchen. I whispered, “When I count to three, I want you to say, ‘HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!’” To which Hannah replied, “To WHO?”

After church, the girls gave Mike the Father’s Day cards they had made in Sunday School. Abby’s said, “Happy birthday, Pop!” I thought this was odd, because she doesn’t call him Pop. Then I noticed two little holes that should be holding a Tootsie Pop. Then I looked at Abby, who joyfully had a Tootsie Pop in her mouth.

Hannah handed the card to Mike and said, “I didn’t want to write in it, but my teacher made me do it.”

This is an old picture, but it's one I love of the girls and their Daddy. (It looks like a fake background, but they are actually at a lake.)

The Dreaded Four-Year Checkup

Hannah had her four year doctor visit. First they gave her a hearing test. She was instructed to tell them when something sounded in her ear. My little singer sang each different pitch as it was played in her headphones. Next, they tested her eyesight. She didn’t like that one eye had to be covered. Her eye chart had pictures on it. Whenever she got to the teacup, she got it wrong and became frustrated. Do kids even know what teacups are anymore? I asked if she could just use the letter chart, but they didn’t believe me when I said that she knew her letters. She received a 20/30 on her eye chart because of that blasted teacup! (The educator in me was a bit ticked that she didn’t get 100%.)

Once we were put in the waiting room, it was my turn to entertain the children. Don’t you hate that tiny room? There is nothing to do. You have to keep them off the doctor’s rolling chair, and stand guard that they don’t fall off the examination table. We waited in that room for 45 minutes. I was going crazy! At one point, Hannah said, “I am going to pray to God that the doctor will come in.” Bowing her head, she whispers, “Dear God, please send in the doctor. It’s been a long time.” She lifts up her head and looks expectantly at the door. When the doctor didn’t come in, she became frustrated and said something about God not doing what she asked. She was angry! When Abby, the ever-faithful one, heard that Hannah was frustrated with God, she was highly offended and gave Hannah a lecture about God.

Luckily during our wait, Hannah was in a little hospital gown that flapped open in the back. Not a cell phone person, I was bored enough to figure out how to email Mike a video of Hannah’s backside in the gown. I was later charged $2.00 by my phone carrier.

Finally, finally, the doctor came in. She asked Hannah how old she was. Hannah answered, “Four!” About 30 seconds later, the doctor asked her again how old she was. Hannah was exasperated by this point. “AGAIN!?” Hannah demanded.

The last part of the exam was the dreaded shots. As I held her down and she screamed, I glanced over at Abby. She had backed into a corner and was silently sobbing for her sister. Mothers should NOT have to do this.

Picture Stories

We have been to the Ft. Worth Zoo several times this summer.



Swim classes!





Photo Opportunity at Preschool

Little Critters

So, um, we got lice. Again. Granted, it's been almost two years since the last episode, but it's bad enough getting them once in your mommy career. May I pass on a little known fact? Lice like clean hair. If the hair is dirty, they cannot hold onto the hair shaft. My children and I are not dirty! Sigh. (Don't panic, playdate friends, this was back in May. We're most likely clean. . . .)

So, the de-bugging began. The lice shampoo packaging forgot to give hints on what to do when the child screams, "It burns! It burns!" We washed it off almost immediately; $25 down the drain. We then switched to mayonnaise. The idea is to coat the hair with mayo, which suffocates the lice. My amazing girls left that mayo on their hair for three hours. Every 20 minutes or so, I would stop what I was doing and wipe the grease that was dripping down from our heads. (Yes, mine too.)


While we were marinating our hair, I was taking every washable thing from each room before vacuuming and spraying with delouser. Once the room was stripped, the girls were not allowed back in it. They stayed quarantined within certain areas almost all day. I pulled every sheet, blanket, towel, and stuffed animal out of the rooms for their turn in the washer and dryer. I pulled the car seats out and sterilized the entire car. Once I got a fourth of the house done,

I sent this picture to Mike at work, and I called the folks for help. I bagged up six huge trash bags and set them on the driveway. My dad later picked them up so he and Mom could wash them for me.

After three hours of mayo, I picked out all the visible eggs, and switched to another overnight treatment. In the morning, when I checked Abby's hair before school, I saw one of the buggers walking around, snubbing his nose at me. I then did a FOURTH treatment (within 24 hours) and called it a day.


Do you know that these treatments do not get rid of the eggs? They hatch soon, and you have a week to kill them before they begin mating again. For the next month, the girls and I did weekly overnight treatments. Please, God. . . .

Writing this has made my head itch.