I'm sad to say that we seem to have lost Elizabeth. On the plus side we've acquired a small puppy with lots of curls and a highly developed ability to walk on her back legs and say, "Goldfish?" Actually, all our kids are spending a lot of time as puppies. Or kittens. Or some kind of evil puppy/kitten hybrid that's probably worse than both.
Unless they're all robots and superheros. We have a lot of them, too.
I realized I haven't really been chronicling the weird things they're doing, Thomas has moved out of the Land of Eternal Picnic Planning into the Land of Planning to be a Superhero. I keep telling him that he can be Iron Man but he has to make the suit himself. I've given him permission to set up a particle accelerator in the basement. Geoff think it's unwise, and I think I'm encouraging Science. Also Thomas is Nat's puppy, and Thomas is named Ginger. This leads to odd glances when we're out in public and Nat is encouraging Ginger to play fetch.
Nat is still nearly totally focused on robots, unless he is a puppy. But it's generally a robot puppy, so there's convergence.
Miriam is fiercely mothering all the toys in the house, and taking care of her puppy, Elizabeth. Well, unless she's menacing the puppy with a sonic screwdriver or swordfighting or drawing all over the walls (for which she is punished but somehow that doesn't seem to making much of an impression). Right now she's found a cup of water and a paintbrush and is busily painting on her siblings.
Oh, hey, now Elizabeth is meowing and following Miriam around. Miriam is painting on her. I'm sitting at the computer contemplating a shower and being grateful that they're mostly playing peacefully or eating their nutritious breakfast of smoothie and graham crackers, and occasionally doing the day's reading over my shoulder and loudly, through the eternal roar of playing, saying "This is the day's Psalm! Listen, okay!.
And now time to arise and get chocolate milk/oatmeal/do Nat's shots/mop the water they just spilled all over the floor. And... UP.