Easter Joy 21 Apr 2014 7:13 AM (11 years ago)

Thank you, Catholic Church, for celebrating Easter as an octave. That gives me 8 whole days for ~~chocolate eating~~ posting Easter pictures!

The kids were originally supposed to be home today, but thanks to the Never-ending Story called Winter '14, today is a snow make up day. Our kids have had no break this spring, but it's all right. They like school and this means they are still getting out at relatively the same time in June.

I just feel badly for their teachers, since their menu yesterday consisted of chocolate eggs, jelly beans, carrot cake, cinnamon rolls, and a tiny sliver of ham, just to make it healthy.

I'm sure they will have zero mood issues today.

Easter Sunday was lovely here. On Facebook, I said that it was about as lovely as a day could be. The weather was perfect and our family was together - everything else was gravy. Or chocolate, as the case may be.

Many times in my life, while I have been enjoying intensely happy moments, I find myself dwelling on that happiness and trying to store it up in my heart. I think about how I will never be in this happy day again, and that harder times very well may be ahead. It's not a pessimistic feeling, really. It's more of an acknowledgement of the grace of the moment. Life changes so quickly, and my children will not be small and with me forever. But they are with me right now, so I'll enjoy them.

Happy Easter, my friends!

Fo(u)rthright 2 Apr 2014 10:42 AM (11 years ago)

It's hard to believe, but my Mopsy girl turned 4 on Monday.

I know 4 doesn't seem so very big, and it isn't, not really. Four year olds think they are big, but they are still so small. I can still recognize so much of the baby that she was.

In a big family there is the danger of getting lost in the shuffle. Not in a permanent way, not as long as a loving mom is on the job at least, but the day itself can lose some luster if you are just thinking about it as "one more kid turns 4." See? No big deal when you put it that way.

So I make an effort to recognize each one on their birthdays. We don't do big parties, but we do try to make it special. We hang the birthday banner, I make whatever cake they request, and Rob takes the day off of work. There is something precious about hearing that your beloved daddy, who works all the time, has left work just for your birthday. And that's exactly what he tells them: "I'm not working because it's your day, and I want to be with you."

On Monday, we went out to lunch with the 3 little guys, and then we hit up Target so Mopsy could spend the birthday money she got from relatives. After school, my parents came over and we all had dinner and cake together. That was it, and it was perfect.

Mopsy, as a little girl, is delightful. Full of life and charm and mirth, brimming with mischief and hilarity and independence.

We love her dearly.

I love, love, love the way Baby is looking at her big sister in this picture.

Mopsy loves all things mustache-themed. I have no idea why, but that's who she is.
So it was fake pink mustaches all around on her birthday.

Baby does not love mustaches, but she loves her sister and she was a good sport.

Bun does love mustaches.

I love her face in this picture.

Cake time!

Laetare 30 Mar 2014 7:21 PM (11 years ago)

So. This blog. It does still exist and I am not dead.

As for the rest, I'm blaming it on the Polar Vortex. I know it's not a new weather phenomenon, but it practically killed my spirit for nigh on 3 months.

Because there was just. so. darn. much! of this:

When I used to hear older ladies talk about their "nerves" or how so-and-so had "bad nerves," I would think that it was a mostly imagined problem. I am now apologizing to those ladies. They know what's up because "nerves" is a totally legitimate medical condition. And mine just about snapped this winter.

Have you ever had one of those days where you are utterly depleted? Where every nerve ending and sensory receptor in your brain is screaming "Danger!! Overload!!" Where you are touched-out and asked-out and yelled-out and whined-out and cried-out, and if you don't find a dark corner in which to retreat you will ab-so-lutely lose . . . your . . . mind.

This winter was weeks made up of those days.

It's completely dramatic to say I had a nervous breakdown, so I'll just say that even my confessor told me to go on vacation. He said that I should call it a "mother's retreat."

He did not tell me to take a "nerve pill," as the sweet old ladies called them when we lived down south, but I probably could have used one of them, whatever they are.

And listen, I was not the only one considering self-medicating until spring found me. Even the kids started to get strung out.

Yes, that is my baby raiding my brother's alcohol cabinet.
At least he chose some good Scotch to honor his heritage.

But thank the good Lord that even the most bitter winters do not last forever and must eventually give way to the gentler touch of spring. Snow turns to rain, and the way I feel today is not the way I will feel forever.

And even during the depths of winter, we managed to find good things:

Victory! Too bad they didn't have a flag to plant on top
of the mountain of snow on the mailbox.

Not much gets this girl down. Not even snow drifts twice her height.

Driving the aisles

This kid . . .
oh, man, am I in so much trouble.

I ran my first 5K in 12 years last weekend.
See that behind me? That's called green grass.

It's Laetare Sunday, a day to rejoice because we are halfway through Lent and the winter's behind us.
I'm ready for that, my friends.

The Long Winter 5 Feb 2014 6:45 PM (11 years ago)

Ohhhh, this weather. What can I say? It's winter out there, and sometimes winter is brutal.

This year seems especially harsh, but I am choosing not to let the 24/7 weathertainment machine make me crazy about something that I should expect as a resident of the northeast United States.

I've stopped counting how many "inclement weather" days the kids have used. Our school gets 4 built into the schedule, and I think we passed that back in December. Mopsy has had so many preschool days cancelled that her teacher told all the parents that once the spring is here she will extend the school day by a half hour so that they could do some of the fun projects that had to be scrapped.

On Monday we got 9 inches of snow, and last night we got an inch of ice on top of all of that. I managed to use the window between the storms to grab all my groceries, so I had plenty of time to stare out the window and try to remember what green grass looks like.

Most days, I don't mind staying in. Dressing everyone for the outdoors is an epic feat and piloting the land yacht along snow packed roads is less than exhilarating. Rear wheel drive is not my friend in this weather.

The snowy woods behind our house, looking from the corner of our front porch.

The Snow Removal Crew getting instructions from the Crew Chief.

Fiver is shovel ready. And that snow is heavy and wet.

The second shift of the snow crew, post naps.

Helping Daddy, shovelful by tiny shovelful.

The Land Yacht with its snow cap.

This is one of my favorite pictures. This is Bun and Sally, lying on top of their snow fort,
talking things over. They are getting older and moving in different circles,
but their old closeness still comes out. I hope they remain that way through life.

The view from my windshield while waiting to drop Mopsy at school.
It's hard to tell from this angle, but that pile of snow in front of the van is as high as the hood.
And that street had already been plowed. Twice.

The parking lot across the street from school. I usually park there, but there was no way
I'd be able to make it back out with that much snow.

One of the roads on the way home from school. You can finally see about a half lane of
blacktop, for which I was very grateful. Just beyond the trees and that little beige
building is the partially frozen river. I shiver every time I drive over the bridge
on my way home.

But even the weather can't steal all of our fun. I've always been so happy to have Bun's birthday in the dark recesses of winter, just to break up the monotony.

The birthday banner!

Six. How did that happen?

This is the cake I made for Bun. He picked it from the internet, even though he only eats
plain chocolate cake with plain white icing. Everyone else thought it was delicious.

Mopsy helped me put the candles in the cake. She was also offering herself as a taste-tester.

One of my favorite things is knowing that Bun and my dad share their birthday.
They have always thought it was such a special gift to be birthday buddies.

Make a wish!

I hope they wished for warmer temperatures. Or at least above-freezing temperatures.

A Man With A Plan 28 Jan 2014 7:03 AM (11 years ago)

Bun's class prepared all the readings for school mass last week. It was the first time that the kindergarten was in charge of the readings, and Bun was excited to get picked for the first reading.

He practiced and practiced, and he did an excellent job. Apparently, reading at church started to give him ideas, because later that night he came home and this conversation transpired:

Bun: I know what I'm doing with my life.

Me: Great! What's your plan?

Bun: On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday, I will be a geography teacher. And on Friday and Sunday, I will be a priest.

Me: Hmm, I'm not sure it works like that.

Rob (in the other room): "Father, can you help us with Holy Thursday mass?" "Nope, sorry, not a priest on Thursdays, remember?"

Me: What about Saturday night mass, Bun? Won't you do that?

Bun: Ohhhh, yeah! I forgot about Saturday night! Okay, then I will be a priest starting around 2 or 2:30 on Saturday. But not before that.

Me (laughing): Yeah, I bet a lot of priests might like Saturday morning and afternoon to themselves.

Bun: Exactly.

7 Snappy-ish Takes. 24 Jan 2014 7:14 PM (11 years ago)

ONE

We had a repairman out today to check a possible problem with our heater. After a lot of checking, traipsing in and out, and a $70 service fee, it was determined that it just needs a good cleaning.

Seriously. I had to pay $70 to find out that I am bad at keeping my furnace cleaning appointments.

TWO

Anyway, the guy was nice. And he was also young. He looked about 13 and I'd be willing to bet that service fee that he is fresh out of HVAC school.

He showed up right around 5:30, which is a dicey time here. We're usually still in WHM - Witching Hour Mode - while I am trying to finish cooking and get everything on the table before my people perish because they are sooooo hungry. (Then they sit down and promptly declare that they don't like any part of dinner. So obviously not that hungry.)

Sometimes I wonder what people think when they walk into our house. Especially people who know nothing about us. Do they feel like they've accidentally wandered into the asylum?

THREE

Because the first thing he saw was these two:

Doesn't everyone wander around in a full length hooded cape?

Mopsy immediately introduced herself as "Little Red Neighborhood," and Baby just stared at him unnervingly.

FOUR

Then he went downstairs and found three more kids, playing diner. Chef Sally was dressed in an eclectic combination of scarves and a bathrobe tied at the arms around her waist, serving cheese and sardines. Speaking fake French.

While he was looking at the heater, another kid came downstairs and half of them started singing the SpongeBob theme song. Loudly. Right by the door to the furnace room.

FIVE

By the time the repairman was finished, everyone was at the table for dinner. He came up to fill out the work ticket, and that's when he noticed Septimus in the highchair.

Since our dinner table generally resembles something you might find at a Renaissance Fair, I could see his eyes wander over and he began the mental countdown. I knew what was coming.

"Wow, you guys are sure busy."

SIX

Oh, you have no idea.

SEVEN

While he was here, the technician asked to use our powder room, and I half-jokingly apologized for anything he might find in there.

When I went in there after he left, I saw what he saw. A pair of little underpants on the back of the toilet tank, a nightlight that looked like it had been practically punched out of the socket, a slice of fake bread and a fake chicken leg left on the sink, and, probably the most horrifying to strangers, little brown fingerprints on the light's switchplate.

It was from the chocolates the girls ate, but not everyone knows that. Sorry, dude.

{p,h,f,r} 16 Jan 2014 7:09 PM (11 years ago)

There is so much going on here these days, but nothing really "newsworthy". It's just the normal busy-ness of a family of nine. We've celebrated birthdays (mine and Rob's), and we've hunkered down as the polar vortex forced our school to close. There has been basketball and dance and midterms and one crazy baby who is bound and determined to keep up with all these big kids running around.

It all leaves me exhausted by the end of the day, but I still look for those little pockets of contentment, those fleeting moments of calm in the midst of the chaos.

{real}

This is NOT a pocket of contentment . . . this is the midst of the chaos.

{pretty}

But my dear dad has been working so hard on this masterpiece, to help me reclaim the calm.

I love it so much that sometimes I just stare at it. These shelves really are a thing of beauty. All the shelves and drawers are tailor made for my hooligans. The drawers completely extend and can hold up to 100 pounds.

The shelves can be moved around, the toy box has specially designed hinges, and the most genius part is the very bottom. Where it looks like decorative scroll work along the baseboard, my dad actually left the backing as a solid piece of wood and painted it black. No toys can roll under there and get trapped.

Do you know how many tiny cars and doll brushes we have? I am in love with the fact that I will never have to squeeze my hands under there for a lost toy.

Plus, you know, it was all hand made by my dad. That's the very best thing about it.

Oh but wait, I'm not done. My dad also made this beauty for our dining room:

Even though our old table was still in good shape, we were shoe-horning ourselves in there at dinner time. In truth, we would often eat in shifts. Kids first, and then Rob and I would sit down.

Now we have a gorgeous table that can fit all of us and more. My dad put 7 coats of polyurethane on it - one coat for each child, so it should stand up to their messes.

It is such a blessing to be able to sit together at dinner, all thanks to Pop-Pop. He's the tops.

We're also doing The Jesus Project from A Holy Experience. Ann has some beautiful free print-outs of bible verses to commit to memory and they are perfect for everyone. God's Word is beautiful and I think it's important that it look beautiful when it is displayed.

I printed out the first set, and each week I will cut one out, glue it on some pretty card stock, and display it on the table.

I made the card holder out of a broken candlestick and some 14 gauge jewelry wire. I wrapped wire around the top of the candlestick, and then twisted the other end of the wire into loops tight enough to hold a card. It's sort of like a very tall place-card holder. It works perfectly.

I didn't tell the kids anything about it, I just set it out on the table. I've heard each of the independent readers reading it aloud several times as they passed the table. I love that.

The Year That Was 31 Dec 2013 8:21 PM (11 years ago)

What a Christmas it's been so far at the HomeFront. It's been truly wonderful, and the beauty of it all is that I actually realize that it's been wonderful.

I don't know if it's the perspective I've gained by missing it last year, or if it's just God's overwhelming grace. It's most likely both. I've gained the perspective, and by God's grace I can recognize it for the gift it is.

I was intending to come here and recap the whole week of frivolity and merriment, but I can't. I can't even begin to tell you how full my heart has been. My cup runneth over. This holiday will be one of the shining ones that I treasure in my heart and think of fondly when I am old.

I should say something deep about 2013, as it hobbles out on its tired legs, but I don't think that will happen. Last year was full of love and loss and joy and grief; the scared and the profane, the mundane and the sublime. It was like every other year and like no other year.

I'm blessed to have been part of it.

From our home to yours, I wish you a happy new year. God bless you, my friends.

For He's A Jolly Good Toddler 23 Dec 2013 6:19 AM (11 years ago)

Today, Septimus is one. One! Can you believe a year has passed that fast? Me neither.

When I was pregnant, so many people with either Christmas birthdays or Christmas babies told me I would hate having a baby at this time of year. They assured me that birthdays would get pushed to the side or just plain forgotten in the busy rush of the holidays.

But knowing Septimus, I don't think he'll ever let himself be forgotten. From his tumultuous entrance to his incessant colic to his family record of being the only one of my children who walked before their first birthday, he has made making a name for himself a full time job. It's the only way to live for those babies of the family.

Septimus is smart, funny, maddening, endearing, outrageous, wild, happy, and everything a one year old baby boy should be. He is spoiled and petted and cosseted by his older siblings. He is also pushed around and put in his place and left behind for grander adventures by those same kids. Life in The Shoe can be tough, but it's not without love.

And love is all you need.

Happy birthday, baby boy. You are our delight.

Advent-ure Time 12 Dec 2013 10:33 AM (11 years ago)

Right after Thanksgiving, I found myself driving alone in the giant van. I can't tell you why, because it so rarely happens, but I know I was making the most of it. I was flipping around my satellite radio (the one shining luxury in our family workhorse), and I counted at least 5 round-the-clock Christmas song stations.

One of them was playing this:

I have loved this song since I was a little girl, even though it always made me a little sad. And no one sings it like Judy.

(But the version with John Denver and Rowlf is a close second).

I recognized the first few notes and turned it up to sing along. I was feeling pretty happy, so imagine my surprise when, after the first lines, I started crying.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

Let your heart be light,

Next year all our troubles

Will be out of sight.

Last year, my Advent was terrible. I can't even say that I observed Advent, except that in my heavily pregnant state every movement was a sort of penance. But Advent isn't just penance. It's also preparation and I was not preparing. I was surviving.

Of course, I was unaware that my Advent days were numbered and I would spend Christmas in the hospital, under the heavy influence of intravenous narcotics. I didn't know that I would miss every single one of the traditions I love so much; the little joys with the children that make Christmas so special each year.

I don't mean to make it sound like a healthy new baby is nothing, because it's not. It's everything, really. Isn't that what we are celebrating at Christmas? The arrival of Christ, the baby. But now, with a year's perspective, I can see how non-present I was.

The new year came, and with it I lost my grandmother in March and a college friend in July. Granny lived a full life, but her decline was sudden. Tara lived a shorter life, but her decline was a slow and intense battle against the cancer that took her. Both of them are still sorely missed.

I usually like to observe a contemplative, quiet Advent (or at least that's what I try for every year!), but this year, I am doing everything. Every tradition, every song, every cookie, every gift, every card, every Mass, every school pageant, all of it.

I know for a fact that I'm doing it all imperfectly, but that is not driving me crazy. I know for a fact that I won't get everything done that I hope to do, but I am calm about that.

Because I am just so damn glad to be here this year. Thank you, God, for letting me be here.

St. Nick left a gift for everyone. Even Septimus, who has no shoes.

Fun plastic plates and some candy in the shoe - jackpot!

A giant bag of generic cereal and some curling ribbon will keep little hands busy on a snowy afternoon.

Mopsy is intent on stringing her garland for the tree. She lasted longer than anyone else, except me.

Bun started out strong, but the arts and crafts are no match for playing Star Wars with your brother.

Sally was a great worker, too.

Bun kept eating his work.

Mopsy was so proud of her work!

This is our Tree-on-a-table technique for keeping
Septimus from destroying the whole set-up.

The kids' handiwork looks very festive on the tree.

Snowy lights on the holly bush.
"Of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown."

"O, Christmas Tree, O, Christmas Tree
How lovely are thy branches . . ."

{p,h,f,r} 5 Dec 2013 7:19 PM (11 years ago)

Our November was a tad busy here. The first half of the month was taken up with the preparations and celebration of my sister's wedding. And then came Thanksgiving, which is Rob's favorite holiday and always a big deal here at the HomeFront.

And thanks to Thanksgiving being so late in the month, it felt like we pushed back from the big dinner and Advent was upon us. It keeps catching me off-guard when I realize it is December.

My sister's wedding was perfectly wonderful, full of love and joy and all the shenanigans that 7 kids in formal wear can occasion.

Bun, after having a tuxedo mishap in which he had to swap out the pants for his pajama bottoms, asked a grown woman to dance to "Ice, Ice Baby."
Sally made about 17 trips to the bar for fancy wineglasses full of lemonade.
Francie got up and killed it on the dance floor when they played "Gangnam Style."
Mopsy, Baby, and I did the "Cha Cha Slide."
Septimus bit off a huge chunk of cucumber, choked, and then threw up all over his wedding clothes.
Fiver ate three plates of food at the buffet and then ate three pieces of cake. And then he felt sick on the way home. Huh.

I also forgot my camera, so please enjoy all these blurry phone pictures of the festivities:

"Sisters, sisters, there were never such devoted sisters . . ."

Before he ate the dinners of three men ...

Before the wardrobe malfunction and pajama pants ...

Before the cucumber chunk lodged in his throat ...

Before the reception started, doing what teenagers do best -
checking her phone ….

Before all the fancy wineglasses of lemonade …

Selfie with my baby boy

Baby was fascinated by the twinkle lights decorating the reception hall.

Mopsy and Mommy

This was the first year in a long time that we did not host Thanksgiving for my family. In the past, my family has come to us because it was easier. I've been pregnant for the past 3 Thanksgivings, Rob has been on call some years, and with little kids, sometimes it's just easier to be in a place where you can put them to bed for a nap and enjoy your company.

But this year, my brother and sister-in-law really wanted to host in their home so we traveled. It was great and I thoroughly enjoyed being their guest. My brother and his wife have a lovely home and they do a lot of entertaining.

My sister-in-law had three different crafts ready for each of the kids, and she found a tablecloth that they could color while they ate dinner. They even got their own place cards. It was way better than home. As Sally told her friend's mother, "My aunt and uncle have the best house. They live in a mansion. In a neighborhood of mansions! And they always have lots of fun stuff to do."

It's true -- they have a Lego room, people. That's major fun.

And for the adults? Individual mini bottles of asti spumante for toasting. Also major fun.

This face is a classic.

The beautiful table.

Coloring the tablecloth

Getting crafty

Ready for some delicious dinner

I took 75 pictures of the kids.
Baby was scowling in at least 50 of them.
This was the best one, and this is why the
Christmas card with a group shot is still a few years off.

A picture of the two of us?
It's a Thanksgiving Day miracle.

Happy Thanksgiving! 28 Nov 2013 8:23 AM (11 years ago)

We are on the road for Thanksgiving this year, so no picture of the whole gang yet . . .

but the little girls and I wish you and your families the happiest of Thanksgivings!

A Very Good Gift 27 Nov 2013 4:50 AM (11 years ago)

Rob and I recently attended parent-teacher conferences at the kids' school. We had already seen the report cards, so we knew the kids were doing well we weren't too worried about what the teacher would say.

My Sally girl had a fantastic report card - one that Rob and I were very proud of - but when I told her that, she just half-smiled and shrugged. That bothered me. Over the past few weeks, I've noticed her saying things like, "M. is really good at math. She always finishes her time tests in time." Or "K. is a great reader. She can read anything."

Now, Sally is one of the most complimentary children I've ever known. She will regularly compliment people with enthusiasm, such as telling our waitress one night, "I just love those earrings! They are so sparkly and they look great on you!" To hear her compliment a classmate is not unusual. What bothered me was that through her compliments she was putting herself down.

Just observing her during homework this year, I can see that she is not a confident student. She assumes she is wrong more often than she assumes she is correct. I think the origins of her feelings are two-fold. She is slower learner and to her slow = not good. Timed math tests are the bane of her existence. If she has trouble reading new words or stumbles over more than one or two, she sighs and says she's not a good reader.

The other part of the problem is related to the first: she has an older sister and a younger brother who are extremely fast learners. They both taught themselves to read when they were barely four. They have nearly photographic memories. They make homework look like the easiest thing. Last year, we had to separate Bun from Sally while she did her homework because he would read over her shoulder and answer the questions before she could.

What she doesn't realize is that they are the oddities, not her. She is completely age-appropriate in her learning curve (even slightly ahead in some subjects). We've always let her know we are proud of her hard work and that she should be proud of her work, too. But it's tough to remember that when you are surrounded by siblings whose brains seem to work like computers.

A few days ago, Sally was talking with Rob about talents and gifts. They were mentioning family members and friends and what they thought were their greatest strengths.

When Sally recounted the conversation for me, said that she told Rob that her talent was "talking" because she wasn't very good at other things in school and she didn't know what her gift was. I was ready to do some pep-talking, but she just smiled and said,

"Daddy told me that my talent is talking because I can talk to anybody and make them feel better. He said that I always know the right thing to say to people, and that people always smile after they are done talking to me. He said that is because my real gift is kindness. God made me kind and that comes out in my talking."

And then she skipped away.

Well. Thank you, God, for my husband because he said exactly the right thing to her. And it's all true.

People go out of their way to tell me how much they enjoy talking with Sally and how much happier they feel after speaking with her. The words that are typically used to describe her are sweet, dear, kind, compassionate, tender, nurturing. They say things like "She'd be a great teacher. Or nurse. Or mother."

Sometimes I feel like kindness gets equated with niceness in our culture, but they aren't the same thing. Niceness can be just good manners (which are important, too), but real kindness comes from a wellspring of love for another person. There's a reason why kindness is one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit. It's hard to be truly kind, because that means you've really got to love first.

In a culture that emphasizes performance, achievement, and measurable success, something like kindness gets lost. You can't measure kindness, you can't test for it. You can certainly work at being more kind, but you're on your own there. There's no class in kindness.

Sally's been blessed with it, and people know it. It's why I always find her with her arm around someone, talking or listening. It's why her siblings will listen to her, when they won't listen to anyone else.

Kindness is her gift, and it comes out in her talking. Absolutely.

Five Favorites 20 Nov 2013 7:14 PM (11 years ago)

I know that date stamp on my last post is wrong. There is no way my last post was last month when this month is more than half finished already. I've posted a dozen times in my mind, but I guess it only counts if you actually type the words and press "publish," huh?

Oh well, that's why blog memes were invented: a painless way to leave completely-mental-posting behind. And with teacher conferences, rampant bronchitis, a family wedding, and one totally crazy baby, you better believe I am treading heavily on the completely mental side of things.

So I'll be all Scarlett-like and post about those things tomorrow. Today, it is time for my current favorite things!

ONE

Every late fall/winter, my hands start to suffer. I know it's because they are constantly exposed to water and cold air, but the skin on my hands turns bright red, cracks, and bleeds.

I know I'm not alone in this age-old affliction, and for years I tried every salve, cream, and lotion available for purchase. My hands were so lubed up that I couldn't turn a door knob and children were slipping out of my grip like greased pigs.

This is my favorite, hands-down (see what I did there?):

It is basically whipped vaseline, so you get the water-repelling effects of Vaseline with the creaminess of a lotion. It works fast. Overnight kind of fast. And it is cheaper than most of the other hand lotions.

TWO

Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day Counter Spray in cranberry scent.

I am slightly obsessed with kitchen counter sprays. I am constantly wiping down the kitchen and dining room table, and I need something that smells nice but is not too chemically poisonous. Plus, I like the scent to coordinate with the season. I don't want to be smelling lilacs in November.

This is my favorite Mrs. Meyer's scent so far. It just smells like Thanksgiving and Christmas. It is so good that even Rob noticed when he was wiping the table after dinner. I've had to restrain myself from putting a little spritz on my wrists before I go out.

THREE

Shutterfly, you are my bosom buddy this time of year. And I know that everyone knows about it already, but I have to say how much I love it anyway.

I love Christmas cards, and I love making our family Christmas card. I do not love trying to get all 7 children in the same camera frame. I'm not even sure it's actually possible.

So I pick my favorite pictures of the kids, give all of them an artsy-fartsy filter, click them into the template and bam, I'm back to drinking eggnog instead of saying "Look at Mommy!" one more time.

Plus, I think you get a lot of bang for your buck with the folded cards. I know they are slightly more expensive, but on most of them you can put pictures on the front, inside, and back of the card.

Or you can switch it up with a text block on the inside. If you are not like me and you are a pithy writer you can fit your whole Christmas letter inside the card!

And they always have great deals or free shipping or free shipping AND great deals at this time of year.

FOUR AND FIVE

I've been reading two books concurrently, which I almost never do because I am easily distracted and confused. I like to devote myself to one book at a time. I'm a monogamous reader.

So I started the new pick for my book club, but then another book that I really wanted to read came out and I started that as well. Both of them are good . . . but don't tell the first book.

My book club selection is "The Fault in Our Stars," by John Green. I don't want to give too much away, but it is about teenage cancer patients who meet in a cancer support group and fall in love. It is written in the voice of a teen, which I find is very tricky for adults to make sound authentic. Green does it beautifully.

The second book is "The Sinner's Guide to NFP," by Simcha Fisher. If you are a frequenter of the Catholic blogosphere, then I am sure you've heard of Simcha. Her writing pops up just about everywhere.

I love this book, mostly because I have a fierce love/hate relationship with NFP. I love it because it is in accordance with the Church's teachings. I hate everything else about it. I know that there are couples out there who love NFP for all kinds of reasons, but for me it is a . . . . cross, shall we say?

There are plenty of books out there that extol the virtues of NFP, but I was waiting for the one that essentially said, "Yep, it sucks, but it's better than sinning and here's why." This is that book.

I'm not selling it very well, especially since it is full of great reflections and sound theology, but I highly recommend it. So far, there is only the Kindle edition available, but I know an audio version is almost ready for release and a print version is practically a done deal.

{p,h,f,r}: All Hallow's Eve Edition 31 Oct 2013 6:39 PM (11 years ago)

Okay, since a "memoir blog" has been indubitably declared a real thing, let's hit it. I'm getting all memoir-y and linking up with everyone's favorite mother/daughter blog for {p,h,f,r}.

Today is Halloween of course, but our dumb town had their "trick-or-treat" night last week. I don't know why they do this and I rail against it every year. I'd never even heard of a township moving Halloween until we lived here.

So my kids got their candy almost a week ago, but they had to save their costumes because their school did the Halloween parties/parade on Halloween. Can you imagine? Waiting until the 31st? How archaic.

Thanks to all the rescheduling, my kids have been mainlining Halloween candy for nearly a week and it ain't pretty.

These pictures were taken right before they went to trick-or-treat, so this is the cleanest, most correctly assembled their costumes ever got.

Sally went as a "sparkly witch." She told me this summer that she wanted to be a witch, "but not an
evil witch who makes poison or anything. Just a happy witch."

Mopsy chose to be Merida, or as the little girls call her, "Brave."
She may not have that wild red hair, but one look at that missing tooth
tells you that she is a little Scottish hooligan.

Septimus was C-3PO. He was press-ganged into the Star Wars themed costumes his brothers wanted.
That's what happens when you are the baby and you can't talk.

My son, Darth.
Why do I always fall for the bad boys?

At least Fiver picked one of the good guys, even though he looks a little deranged.

Baby was Snow White.
This was Mopsy's costume last year, and I kept suggesting Snow White to Baby
because I knew I could re-use it. Pocahontas is Baby's favorite Disney princess, but she found Snow White acceptable.

Francie wasn't going to dress up this year, but then she got invited to a costume party. She didn't have a costume, so she did what every smart child has done in the history of Halloween. She raided the closets. She took Rob's white coat, his scrub shirt, and his stethoscope and went as a doctor.

Of course, I have no pictures of her in costume because she was out the door on the way to the party while I was wrestling the other kids into their costumes.

But I do have pictures of her heading out to the high school homecoming dance. She's not a huge dress girl - she prefers jeans - but when she finds one she likes, look out! And if you add hair and makeup? Well, it makes me hyperventilate a little bit.

"I got a rock."
Fiver picked this year's jack-o-lantern template.

The Reason Why 30 Oct 2013 6:28 PM (11 years ago)

A few people have asked me what's happening with the blog.

Short answer: I don't know. Long answer: I still don't know. It sounds like a cop out, I know. How can the author not know what's happening with the story? I don't know what to tell you. Late this summer, instead of being the creative outlet it once was, the blog became like a millstone around my neck.

After leaving the blog alone for a few weeks, I could see two major reasons for my burnout.

Reason #1:

The wretched schedule. I don't know how well you can see it, but this is a picture of our September calendar. I actually stopped writing things on the calendar because I was running out of room and it was depressing me.

My kids are not in multiple activities. I would not call them over scheduled, but I found that most coaches/instructors look at you like you have three heads if you say that a practice schedule is too much because it cuts into family time.

I think that's what made the schedule feel so onerous. There was very little time for us to be a family together, and it made me sad. Even Sunday, the day of rest, was cross country meet day. For a CYO team!

I felt crushed and rushed and drained by the schedule.

Reason #2:

This is what my baby looked like when I began this blog:

This is what that baby looks like now:

I have been blogging for 7 years.

Maybe you didn't catch that. I have been blogging for SEVEN YEARS.

I've made four more people in that time. I think it's fair to say I was (am?) experiencing a little ennui.

Sometimes, I just don't know what I want out of this blog. What am I trying to communicate here? I don't home school; I don't homestead; I don't farm (or even garden very well); I don't know how to craft anything (except people, apparently).

When I started this blog, Francie was still young. She was the same age Sally is now, an age where I felt I could comfortably share her funny, sweet little stories. Now both Francie and Fiver have passed that invisible border between childhood and adolescence. I can't tell everything about them now - they have to tell it themselves, in their own ways.

But then, while I was changing my template around, I spent some time going through my archives. I went back to the beginning. There were so many sweet things about the children that I have already forgotten, with only a post to remind me, and I found myself very glad that I wrote them down.

So I think I'll keep going for a little while longer. Maybe not until Sally turns 14 (!!!!!), but definitely a little while longer.

In 7 more years, she will be 9.
Whoa.

Running on Empty 22 Oct 2013 7:24 PM (11 years ago)

After I dropped Mopsy at school today, and I was making my usual multiple trips between the van and the house, unbuckling and lifting and carrying in the house, it started to rain. I looked down at the chalk drawings on the driveway because Sally hates when it rains and washes all her hard work away. (Her real life middle name means "industrious" and I don't think we could have picked a more fitting one if we had known her for 20 years prior to her birth.)

She asked me to look at these pictures late last week when she originally drew them, but I was busy and then I caught a nasty virus and I wasn't outside at all. I'm very lucky that it didn't rain before today and I got to see them at all, because they were the best thing I've read. Ever.

She had drawn a smiling sun and a rainbow over a house, and next to them were these words:

"Sunny here. Welcome here. Love and care here. Our house."

I almost cried, because, deep in my heart, that is the only thing that I want my children to ever remember about this house. That it was sunny. That they were always welcome here. That they were loved and cared for here.

I don't know if I am hitting that mark. I really don't and that scares me. What will they remember about this home, about this mother? This tired, yelling, worn out mother? Love and care? Oh, please God, let them remember that.

I know I've been away for a long time. I tried many times to come and write, but I couldn't. It was more than writer's block. It was a writer's freeze. A writer's winter.

But winter doesn't last forever; it's just a season after all. And even when the trees are leafless and bare, the warm sap is running beneath the bark and flowing out to the branches.

I don't know when I'll be able to write more regularly, or even if I'll be able to write more regularly. Winter is a long season. But I can tell you that the sap is rising.

Because it's sunny here.

{p,h,f,r}: Back to School Edition 29 Aug 2013 3:10 PM (11 years ago)

Whoa. Okay, so the end of August is kind of taking me behind the woodshed and working me over pretty good.

I have tried to come here and post about six different times this week and each time it didn't work out. I even missed posting for Fiver's birthday, which I hate. I love writing a little something special for each child's birthday and I like to have it ready on their actual day. But Fiver always gets the short end of the party stick with that late August birthday. His big day always falls on the first or second day of school, in that frenzy of activity when we're all barely sure of whether we are coming or going.
Of course, he was two full weeks late, so it's kind of his fault, right?

I know what you're thinking. How can writing a blog post "not work out"? I mean, it's just a dumb blog anyway. It's just my stream of consciousness blabbed out there into the ether.

But you know what happens when you have five kids in school? The pile of forms to fill out takes a time investment worthy of a part time job and the pile of books you have to cover is large enough to crush you. And the teachers want those books covered the. very. next. day. No excuses.

Look, I understand the teachers' position, I really do. Especially at our school where we cling to every copy of every book until the pages are crumbling because there are no replacements to be had. And I have a book murderer among my brood, so I know those books need to be protected.

But sheesh. I am one mom. I'm working on it as fast as I can. Some of my friends are all like, "Hey, don't be a martyr. Have your prodigious brood cover their own darn books." And yes, I am teaching them to do that, but have you ever seen a book covered by an 11 year old boy with motor planning delays? Yeeeeah . . . lots of tape, not much actual book coverage. So I end up having to fix it up anyway.

And don't even get me started on the high school, where Francie HAD to get her specific supplies the very night of her first day of classes or she would be penalized by certain teachers. If they want that short of a turnaround time, then put those darn supply lists on the website. Isn't that what it's there for? She seriously saw half of her class at Staples, so I know she wasn't alone, but still.

But enough about all that. I'm not here to complain (no, stop laughing, I'm really not). The kids seem to be enjoying all four days of school so far, and the littles at home are enjoying having more time with me.

And I am enjoying . . . that August is almost over. And the fact that I have some brand new pens for all those forms. This time of year is like an office supply addict's Christmas morning. Having an excellent pen really does go a long way in making all those forms seem like hardly any work at all.

Now let's switch gears and have {some pretty, happy, funny, real}, courtesy of the mothers and daughters over at Like Mother, Like Daughter. It will help keep my mind off of Rob's insane August schedule and how we've had to practically make appointments to see him in September.

We kept our family tradition of visiting our favorite
amusement park on the last weekend before school.
I can't even tell you how much I love this place. It's just the best ever.

Looking through the pictures, I realized I only have photos of Sally and the
little girls, plus a few of the baby. Everyone else was off riding their
favorite rides on their own time table, and Sally and I stayed with the little ones in the
kiddie ride area.

Mopsy is our fearless wonder. She is content with kiddie rides, but she watches
the roller coasters with rapt fascination. As she watched the cars whiz by,
she told my dad, "I gonna ride THAT!" Then she cried when we told
her she was too small.

Don't tell Mopsy, but I did get to ride that. This is the top of the Phoenix, which
is my all time favorite roller coaster. In the past several years, I've usually been
pregnant during our trip and I couldn't ride.
This year I rode it twice for good measure.

Septimus just hung out in the stroller all day.
There are worse fates.

The night before school and all the backpacks
were laid out with care.

My secret stash. Extra glue sticks and pencils for homework,
but mostly all my favorite pens hidden away from the
"borrowers" I birthed.

This is where my secret stash is hidden. The kids have broken this door off
the desk twice, so I finally channeled my inner Kevin Bacon a la Apollo 13 and
put up a "NO!" sign. It actually works like a charm.

Francie, 9th grade

Fiver, 5th grade

Sally, 2nd grade

Bun, kindergarten

The School House Gang

Home: Where the Wild Things Are

Fiver's favorite birthday treat: ice cream cake!

Baby wanted to make sure all 11 candles on the cake were extinguished.

I've been worried that Septimus was almost 8 months old and showed no interest
in sitting up. Then I found him like this, and I figured he had to have some core strength
to pull himself up and play with the hanging toys like that.

Then I found him like this a few days later.
My kids enjoy messing with my head.

Off My Game 21 Aug 2013 7:25 PM (11 years ago)

Sally lost her other front tooth and the Tooth Fairy forgot to collect it. Multiple times. That's just the way it's been around here lately.

I wish I could say that it's the first time it's happened in this house, but I can't lie. It's happened so often that the kids almost expect it. And their sympathies firmly lie with the Tooth Fairy, as you can plainly see from Sally's notes:

In case you can't tell from my stellar photography, the note says:

"Hi tooth fairy I am sorry if you did not fid [sic] any tooth my mom forgot to put it out. I am relly relly relly SORRY bye xoxoxo kiss hugs"

Look, the Tooth Fairy can just cut me some slack, okay? There are A LOT of teeth floating around this place. We keep that chick in business. I mean, Francie hasn't even lost all her baby teeth yet, for crying out loud! (not that she is expecting anything for them. Thank goodness for small favors.)

We are on the last few days of summer. Fiver and Sally go back on Monday, and Bun and Francie start back on Tuesday. I don't have everything ready, and I swing wildly between stressing out and not caring at all. I want summer to keep going but I am also getting sick of the loosey-goosey quality of our days. Yes, it's exhausting to live in my head.

Since this will be our last free weekend for a long time, we plan to drink it in as deeply as we can and take the kids to our favorite amusement park to celebrate Fiver's birthday a little early.

This plan dovetails nicely with my self-imposed quasi-fast from the internet. Why do I need to step my crazy away from the internet? Maybe I'll be able to explain it all once summer is over and I have tons of time for writing posts and surfing the web and eating bon-bons and doing whatever I want.

Heh.

Now you'll have to excuse me, I need to go find a tooth.

Quick Like A Bunny 9 Aug 2013 11:08 AM (11 years ago)

Did anyone else's family ever say that phrase? "Quick like a bunny?" I say that to the kids all the time, and sometimes I wonder if other people think I'm off my rocker.

Of course, I am off my rocker, but let's not split hairs. Now is the time for some quick-like-a-bunny takes with Conversion Diary.

ONE

Certain children in this household hate to bathe. I mean, they loathe the thought of showering with a burning passion. You would think I was asking them to take a dip in an acid bath they way they drag their feet and stall and refuse. It is ridiculous.

All this makes me feel like something has gone terribly awry with my parenting. I'm not sure why I feel this way -- maybe because I would pay a king's ransom to be left alone in the shower for a full ten minutes. I can't understand why a person would not want to avail themselves of hot and cold running water, for which someone else pays the bill, and the luxury of the time to enjoy it.

I can't be the only one who has kids who hate taking the time to wash up. Right?!?!? Just say yes.

TWO

Also from the These Ridiculous Children File: the daily workout saga.

In an effort to be feel better, healthier, and a little more sane, I've been getting on the treadmill regularly. Even though our treadmill is firmly in the There Be Monsters territory of the basement playroom, I get myself down there in the morning for at least 30 minutes. Longer if I can get away with it.

Herein lies the problem: my children go batsh!t crazy as soon as I step on the treads. I'm sorry to put it that way, but it's the simple truth. They act like they have been possessed by the personalities of monkeys on crack. It's similar to the problem of being on the phone for an important reason and having your formerly sweet, quiet children turn into raging lunatics who must! tell! you! this! right! NOW!!!!!

I always make sure the house is orderly and people have eaten and are engaged in some kind of appropriate activity (i.e.: no one has scissors or Sharpie markers or gum or stickers or glitter). Once everyone is settled and the baby is asleep for his morning nap, I hop on to the treadmill.

I am not exaggerating one bit when I tell you that I was shouting instructions to people from the treadmill at the 1:37 minute mark. ONE MINUTE AND THIRTY SEVEN SECONDS of good solid exercise down, 28+ minutes of panting/yelling to go.

It doesn't even matter what the problem is because it is always, always, trivial crap. So instead of relieving stress through exercise, my heart feels like it is exploding and I am going deaf from trying to drown them out with the music in my headphones.

And people wonder why I don't love exercising.

THREE

A friend suggested to me that I get up earlier and exercise while the kids are asleep and before Rob goes to work.

I just . . . can't. I know that sounds so lame, but I just can't do it. And I know every fitness instructor on the planet would say, "Can't isn't part of your vocabulary!! You just WON'T do it!!"

Okay, fine. I just won't.

I wake up at 4:30 most mornings to feed the baby and Rob usually leaves the house by 6:30. I've tried getting on the treadmill at 5 or 5:30, but my children have come equipped with some kind of supernatural radar system that alerts them to the presence of a parent desperately trying to do something - anything!! - without them.

I even do a contorted kind of dance in the hallway to miss the creaky boards and I don't put my shoes on until I am all the way in the basement. But no matter. I'll be on the treadmill for no more than 3 minutes when I hear the tell tale sound of the basement door creaking open.

So, no, imaginary fitness instructor, I am not getting up at 4 to exercise.

FOUR

Since I'm talking about exercise, I am going to milk it for 3 whole takes.

I am on week 4 of the Couch to 5K app and I can see that I still really don't like running, but I would like to run another 5K because those are fun.

I didn't think I needed to do the Couch to 5K program because I've already done a 5K, but then I did the math and I realized that the last 5K I ran was 12 years ago. I haven't been completely sedentary during those intervening years - 7 kids will NEVER EVER allow sedentary!! -- but it's more than fair to say that I haven't been running regularly.

Couch to 5K is great because it has gotten me back into running in a pretty auto-pilot way. I've done high intensity interval training in the past, but I always found it hard to keep track of my program while I was doing it. I have gone so far to tape large posters on the wall or the treadmill to remind me of when to switch activities.

C25K has a pleasant British lady named Alison who reminds me when to run and when to walk, so all I need to do is press start. I need something easy like that to counteract the frenzied baboon colony that hangs out with me in the basement.

All that being said, I still feel like running is mostly penitential for me, but I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. I need some more penance in my life.

FIVE

I thought this summer was going to drag by at a glacial pace and I was dreading it. Doesn't that just show you the fun kind of mom I am?

I don't do well without the externally imposed structure of the school year, and last summer I felt like I was literally being suffocated by small children. Of course, I was pregnant at the time so that could be a large part of it, but still . . . I am in that pretty physically intense phase of Babies, Babies, Everywhere and Not A Minute To Do Anything Else Ever.

Instead, this summer has flown by. My kids go back to school in less than 3 weeks and I have no supplies for them, no uniforms, and no desire to get them. Knowing how crowded the uniform store gets at this time of year, I should get over there pronto.

I'm sure not being pregnant and sick and exhausted has had a great effect on my energy level and time management, but I also feel like the end of summer has crept up on me and I am scrambling to fit in a few last minute fun things.

SIX and SEVEN

You know what? There are no legit 6th or 7th takes. Lo siento.

I have been trying to write this post since last night and I keep getting monumentally interrupted. I have gone too far now to scrap it all, but I am also out of time to dilly dally.

I'm supposed to be cleaning my house and getting ready to host my sister's bridal shower this weekend -- meanwhile, Rob's working this weekend, 3 of the kids have a birthday party, Francie has a movie date with a friend and color guard practice . . . you know, life and stuff. I have to dash.

Have a great weekend, my friends!

Adventure Time 6 Aug 2013 6:56 PM (11 years ago)

Sometimes, I really dislike my bathroom. It is small and cramped and full of stuff I don't need. The shower door is prone to scumminess, the sink drains slowly, and the tiles are all broken or cracked. Kids toys surround my tub and are always falling in, but it doesn't matter because I never have time to take a bath anyway. I barely have time to shower.

Of course, there's nothing really wrong with my bathroom, and in fact it is completely ridiculous to complain about it at all given the fact that I have more than one bathroom in my house. The problem is with me and my tendency toward dissatisfaction in life. It's a character flaw. I could just declutter, paint the walls something other than "builder's choice white," and give it a thorough scrubbing.

But there is one time that I can always count on liking my bathroom and that's when I come back to it after being away. It doesn't matter if I've been to the swankiest hotel (rare) or a campground (also rare), I like to come home to my clutter and my towels that smell like my detergent and my spotty mirror.

This ponderous preamble is all just meant to say that the children and I have returned from the beach. I'm in that post-vacation phase where I remember how much I like to have my things organized around me the way I prefer. It's nice to get away and it's equally nice to have a soft place to land on the return.

Many people have said to me that they couldn't believe that I traveled alone with all the children. I don't want to make it sound like it was nothing, because it did take a lot of prep work, but it was only 3 hours from our house. It felt doable.

I have a history of traveling alone with children, mostly due to Rob's job, and I guess it's like anything else: once you do it a few times, you get the hang of it. You know what to pack and how far the rabble can travel before losing their cool.

This time around we went to my aunt's house on the Jersey shore. She graciously invited us to stay there since we had no plans to take a vacation this year and no one was going to be at her house. Rob couldn't get away from work, even though Sally gave him an excellent strategy for taking a vacation. She said, "Daddy, you just walk right in there and tell them, 'Hey! I'm going on vacation! I need a break!'"

Wouldn't you be completely understanding if your doctor came in and said that to you? Employee of the Month right there, folks.

And if you are tempted to think that I'm some kind of super-mom for taking the kids on vacation alone, let me disclose this: 1) My parents met me there, so I did have extra hands and eyes at the beach. If I didn't have that, I wouldn't have gone. 2) I seriously had to psych myself up for the trip. I was grateful for the generous offer, and I wanted the kids to have fun at the beach, but I was preparing for it like I was going into battle. I had to gird my loins and not be swayed, even a little, to think that this would be a vacation for me. It was fun, but it was intensely busy.

Like the rest of everything in life, the trip was not without its share of bumps and excitement, shall we say. I knew something would happen, but I figured it would be along the lines of someone puking. If only it were that simple.

I decided to drive down there on a Sunday afternoon, mostly in the hopes of avoiding some of the heavier traffic through Philadelphia. The big van was all packed up and we left Rob in the driveway at 3 PM. That was the smoothest part of the trip down there.

We hit some very heavy traffic on the PA Turnpike, but the kids kept their cool and we made our way through. It started to rain, and the closer we got to Philly, the heavier it rained. By the time we were inching our way through the city, it was torrential.

I have lived in Florida and North Carolina, and I have driven through sideways rain so heavy that you couldn't see through it. I have driven through hurricane bands, but this rain was some of the worst I've ever been through. I'm not a nervous driver, but I was white-knuckling it.

When we drove onto the Ben Franklin Bridge heading into New Jersey, I couldn't see anything except the taillights directly in front of me. The entire Philadelphia skyline was occluded; there was no division where the sky stopped and the river started. It was all just grey.

This is what you are supposed to see from the Ben Franklin.
Imagine this colored in with a dark grey marker and that's what
I actually saw.

Once over the bridge, all the traffic in New Jersey just stopped. This is a pretty busy area considering two major bridges from Philadelphia (the Walt Whitman and the Ben Franklin) empty out in this general vicinity. We were sitting bumper to bumper and could look up to the ramp that was coming off the Walt Whitman and see that they weren't moving either. Not good.

After sitting like that for 40 minutes, I called Rob and told him what was happening. I knew the kids would be starving and we had already been on the road for close to 4 hours. I told him to Google map us the heck out of there. Actually I cry-demanded him to plan an exit strategy.

I was able to inch along the shoulder to the nearest exit and he directed me to a shopping center where I could find food for the kids. While I was dealing with all that, he called my aunt to figure out a new route. It turned out that all the highways I was supposed to take were flooded and closed. Super.

While I was paying a ridiculous amount of money at a terrible buffet restaurant, Rob and my aunt put their heads together and got us an escape route. The really good news was that the road we needed was just around the corner. The "meh" news was that it was a local route that went through every single town and had a stoplight every 500 feet. Still, I didn't care if we were headed out on a wagon trail, as long as we were moving.

Our destination was Brigantine Beach which is on the other side of Atlantic City. It was almost 10 PM when we came up on Atlantic City, and all the casinos were ablaze. Sally woke up in the back seat and asked, "Are we in Tokyo?!"

Yes, dear. We drove our van to Tokyo. With raunchy billboards the whole way. Criminy.

Lying in bed that night, comforting various exhausted children, I told myself that I was so happy to have made it safely that I didn't care what happened the rest of the week. I was going to be chill and take everything in stride.

Oh hohoho. I am an idiot.

Because on the second day we were there, this happened:

Did you spot the difference? Look closely, something's missing.

It's all fun and games until someone loses a tooth.

That, my friends, is Mopsy's whooooole ding-dang front tooth. She knocked the sucker straight out of her mouth in a freak accident.

She was running towards me on the beach when Sally came running from the opposite direction, didn't see her and they crashed into each other. Mopsy fell forward and hit her mouth on the wooden arm rest of a beach chair.

I knew immediately that she had knocked her tooth out because I saw it come flying out of her mouth. I dropped my camera on the ground, scooped her up, and ran to our blanket. I grabbed a hunk of ice from the cooler and made her suck on it to stop the copious bleeding.

Another mom on the beach brought me the camera and, amazingly enough, Mopsy's tooth. I don't know how she found it, but she must have been right next to me when it happened. I didn't even see her there.

I can't even explain how lucky little Mopsy was. After taking her to the dentist for an X-ray, it was clear that she knocked the whole tooth and root out. I don't think it would have come out any neater if she had had it extracted.

The dentist was amazed by her. He said that she could have broken the tooth off or knocked more teeth out. Or she could have hit another tooth and killed the root, causing it to turn gray. She could have had lacerations to her lip, gums, or cheek.

Instead, 15 minutes after knocking her tooth out she was at home eating a full lunch and asking to go back to the beach. She has not complained once of any pain. She will have a gap there for several years until her adult tooth comes in, but otherwise she is unscathed. Her guardian angel was working overtime in that situation!

Happily, the rest of the vacation was fun and the drive home was uneventful. But next time, I'm telling Rob to take Sally's advice and let his patients know he's on a break.

I should save these for another post instead of just doing a photo dump, but I have to put something up here to overwhelm the shuddery tooth picture.

See? Fun was had by all.

I Ditched 30 Jul 2013 11:55 AM (11 years ago)

I took the challenge and the challenge won.

When I signed up for the 7 in 7 blog challenge over at Conversion Diary, I knew it would require some discipline, but I was pretty sure I'd be able to manage it.

I knew I should write some more posts in advance, but I couldn't get enough time in one chunk to do that. I managed to keep up each day until Thursday. That's when I realized that I had to ditch the challenge and admit defeat. And boy did it burn me.

But I knew I had to do it when I found myself saying, "Yes, yes, I'll be right there to fix lunch in a minute. Mommy has to finish this blog post first. You'll be fine."

That is a fine example of how NOT to have the proper priorities.

Here's the thing: this is not in the season for daily blogging. At least not for me. I know other women who have just as many children as I do and they blog every day because they want to, they love to, and it makes them happy.

It does not make me happy to blog daily, primarily because the house dissolves into chaos around me if I devote that kind of time to blogging. I have very young children, I have very little in the way of help with those children, and my husband works long, unpredictable hours.

I don't really have time to write during the day, and when I do post during the day it is always at the expense of the household and its occupants. So I delay my writing time until the evening, but then I don't get to hang out with Rob. I have to make the time to build up my domestic church, so the blogging suffers.

Plus, I've always looked at blogging as more of a journal or memory keeper, where I jot things down on a whim and for my own pleasure. I don't like feeling like I "have" to blog. Unless there was a paycheck involved. Then I'm sure I could be reconciled to blogging every day.

So I'll just admit that the challenge won and I'll keep doing as I do.

I'm currently at the beach with all the children on a little trip, and with only occasional internet service. Rob had to stay home and work, so you can imagine the hours of free time I have to blog now.

I'll have to fill you in on our adventure when I get the chance. It's the way of the blog.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

A Diller, A Dollar, A Ten O'Clock Blogger 25 Jul 2013 7:27 PM (11 years ago)

I should have planned a little better for this 7 in 7 blog challenge. Maybe written some things in advance and set them on auto-publish. But let's be honest: when have I ever planned this blog? At least I am an hour earlier than last night, so that's something.

Everyone else is putting up all kinds of new and interesting content, but I am sorry to say this day has been one heck of a trial for me. There is nothing wrong, per se, and I am so grateful for that. I am just feeling ground down tonight. A little bruised and crushed by my work and vocation.

I'm sure this sounds unnecessarily dramatic -- I'm really just tired this week. There has been a lot of running children around and not enough "keep the house in order" time. I don't function well when my work space is messy.

So I am throwing some cute kid pictures up here and calling it a night. This lame post is my blogging equivalent of smoke and mirrors. Besides, I need to be reminded that my children are not always squalling, sticky, rashy, itchy, irritable people. Most of the time they are completely delightful. Not today, but most of the time.

Oh wait, I do have a question before I go. I have been thinking seriously about ditching the pseudonyms on the blog and just going with real first names. Part of it is that some of the kids' pseudonyms don't fit them in the least, but I don't really want to confuse things by thinking up new fake names. If I'm going to do new names, they might as well be the real deal.

What do you say? Real names or pseudonyms? If you use pseudonyms for your children on your blog, why? If you don't, why? Just throw it all at me, people.

Five Favorites: Boredom Busters Edition 24 Jul 2013 7:42 PM (11 years ago)

It is 11:10 pm EST, and I've got 50 minutes to knock this post out so it will qualify for the 7 posts in 7 days goal.

I was going to write a more substantial post, but this week has been . . . stressful? draining? a cross between the two? Yes, the answer is D) all of the above. The week has had some lovely bright spots (nice to see you for brunch, Martin Clan!), but mostly it's been sad.

Don't worry, I'm trying to write all about it for Thursday's post. I know you are excited.

Until then, I'm joining Hallie's Five Favorites link-up. But it's actually over at Grace's this week, so go there.

Here are five fun things that are keeping boredom and fighting at a dull-ish roar this summer:

ONE

The Barefoot World Atlas App

Bun's very cool godfather (who never forgets to send a special message on Bun's baptismal day, which I can hardly remember myself!) saw this $4.99 app was being offered for free a couple weeks ago and told me to check it out. He knows Bun's extreme love of maps and atlases, so he thought it might be just the ticket.

He had no idea what a hit he discovered, I'm sure. Bun and Fiver have to be forcibly torn away from the iPad or they will sit and play with this app for hours.

You can search by country, continent, or region, or you can just spin the globe and stop it at a random spot. It gives all kinds of fun facts and interesting information about the place you picked to investigate, but the part the boys like the most is seeing what date/time it is in other countries. It blows their minds that New Zealand is already on another day while we are halfway through ours.

If you have any map lovers, this is a pretty fun and educational way for them to use their computer/screen time.

TWO

Spot It

We like games, but it's hard to find one that the kids can play together. Either it's too complicated for little kids, or they can't hold all the cards, or it takes too long, or it is too babyish, or it makes the most awful noises that either scare or annoy everyone.

This game is a winner, my friends. It is easy to play, it is fun, it accommodates multiple players, it doesn't need batteries, and it is quick.

And it's tiny, so you don't need a big place to store it and it's portable. Get it, seriously.

THREE

Scrabble Slam

Do you have a great reader or word obsessed spouse or child? Do you NOT have the time to break out a whole game of Scrabble? Then this is the game for you.

I'd say that you need to play with a really quick speller, so this is mostly an older kid kind of game. Francie kills this game, and Fiver doesn't do too badly himself. Sally and Bun read quite well, but at 7 and 5, they are not quite quick enough at mental spelling to make this game enjoyable for themselves.

But for the bigger kids and adults, it's challenging and fun.

FOUR

This has nothing to do with busting boredom (except Bun's, of course), but here is the latest map from our resident cartographer. He is branching out into color now.

Although Bun draws between 5-7 largish maps a day, this one is a favorite of mine.

FIVE

Sherlock

I just got caught up on "Call the Midwife," but that's not something Rob watched with me. He doesn't really cotton to any kind of medical centered drama. He deals with enough medical drama in his real life, and he usually doesn't find the depiction of his profession to be too accurate.

(Don't get him started on "Grey's Anatomy" or even "E.R.," back in the day.)

We wanted something to watch together, so we followed many friends' suggestions and watched "Sherlock." Benedict Cumberbatch, aside from having an epically British name, is excellent as Sherlock Holmes, but my favorite is Dr. Watson, played by Martin Freeman (of "The Hobbit").

We've enjoyed the mysteries and acting very much, and now we are all caught up for the new season.

Boom, 11:43. Done and done; the posting streak is preserved.

Remember, I promised quantity not quality.

It's Root, Root, Root For the Home Team 23 Jul 2013 1:00 AM (11 years ago)

I don't think it's any surprise that we are Phillies fans here. I know I've mentioned Bun's love of baseball in general and the Phillies specifically, and I've been a fan since birth more or less.

Rob grew up in Yankees country and he enjoyed baseball, but he was never a rabid Yankees fan.
Now, the New York Football Giants? That's another story. His mama taught him taught him to love the Giants and he loves his mama. Therefore, he looooves him some Giants football. I turned him into a Phillies fan, but I don't dare suggest that he turn his back on the Giants.

It was fairly easy to divide up our sports loyalties. For baseball, it's got to be the Phillies; for football, it's always the Giants; for hockey, it's the Broad Street Bullies (that's the Flyers, in case you don't know); and no one cares a lick about basketball. Sorry, NBA.

I remember going to Phillies games with my parents and grandparents at Veteran's Stadium, which was their old home field. Going to the Vet was always a lot of fun, and now that the Phillies play in Citizens Bank Park, I've wanted to see a game. The major obstacles to my plans were always the time and the expense.

So imagine our surprise when Rob got a call from his boss, who is the Phillies Numero Uno Fan, asking if we wanted 4 tickets to a Sunday afternoon game. He has two different season ticket packages (Numero Uno Fan), and he wasn't going to be able to use these particular tickets and it was killing him to waste them.

Well, Rob said yes and the plan was hatched to take the boys to their first major league sporting event. We scrambled for some babysitting coverage for the girls and Septimus, and thanks to my lovely sister and her fiancé, they were well tended.

The afternoon was blistering. Our faces felt like they were melting off, but it was so much fun. There is nothing like the roar of a real live crowd to get you pumped up.

We had great seats along the first base line (say it with me, Numero Uno Fan) and the boys got to hear some true fan heckling of the Chicago White Sox. I did hear some pretty bad profanity, but luckily, I think the boys missed it. Big thanks to the older gentleman behind them who kept yelling, "Throw the ball, ya bums!!!" and, "Come on, ump! You're blind! Ya Bum!!"

Citizens Bank Park is very nice, and the boys had so much fun pointing out all their favorite players. Because the tickets were free, we could buy them a program and ridiculously overpriced plastic batting helmets full of ice cream. Which turned into ice cream soup about 10 seconds after we bought them.

The Phillies led through the whole game until the 9th inning when our closer blew the save and Chicago tied it up. We went in to "free baseball" and happily the Phils pulled it out in the 10th.

Bun sat on Rob's lap because the seat was so hot it was burning the backs of his legs.
Meanwhile, Rob burst into flames due to excessive body heat.

Fiver smiled the whole time.
When he wasn't eating, that is.

View from the parking lot.
We got there in the top of the 1st inning
and we could hear the cheering from the car.

After the game