Maturing Early

If this year were a person it would be one of those really thin guys that looks young for his age. He goes to buy beer when he's thirty five and gets carded. But when he hits forty five he suddenly ages thirty years and looks like he's sixty.

Because we didn't get much of a summer this year. It was a rainy spring until August. And now it seems fall is over and we're into winter, at least judging from the snowflakes the size of dinner plates falling from the sky. It's like someone is having a massive pillow fight in the clouds.

Favorite Sweater

Nick dresses himself in the morning, sometimes before I can get a look at what he's picked out. I am not a fashionista, and frequently my own outfits are eclectic and strange, but Nick can outdo me. He looks fine in this picture, though. He loves the sweater, and would wear it every single day if I let him.

Time For

It snowed last night.
It's October.
It's not even Halloween yet.

Days Like This

This was taken a little over a week ago. It was so warm that I took the boys out to play in the backyard and I read my book in the grass.

Today was cold.

Once again I had to sort through the winter coats and snowpants and boots.

Andrew has, of course, grown out of the baby snowsuit that all three kids have used. So I boosted him into the next size up, and gave him the Thomas boots that Nate wedged his feet into last year.

Nathan got Nick's boots from last year, which fit him quite well. His jacket from last year was so tight it could hardly zip. So he got Nick's red snowpants and jacket.

Nicholas was the only one that could still fit into his things from last year. But since I had to give his things to Nate, I went ahead and got Nick a new coat, new boots, and new snowpants. But I got them one size up, figuring it would make more sense to have different sizes. Nick's boots fit. Nick's coat is kind of cool, a little big, but doable. Nick's snowpants are about a foot longer than his legs. Hmm.

I figure they'll work out. I'll just roll them up. Maybe we won't get a lot of snow this year.

Spoonfull Of Somthin'

While we were in New York we had the good fortune of being taken to see Mary Poppins, the Broadway Musical.

I could say a lot here. I have always had a soft spot for Broadway musicals, and I enjoy a love/hate relationship with all things Disney, meaning I feel I should dislike it, but usually all I can do is tamper my expressions of enjoyment. I like the movie Mary Poppins - it was the first movie I remember seeing, and we were either on vacation in Puerto Rico or on a boat. (I was very small.) I also enjoyed the Mary Poppins books by Dr. P.L. Travers - yes, there were books, and there were a few of them, and I read them all.

The musical seemed to be an odd mash of the movie and the books, with new songs, old songs in different contexts, and a few moments of baffling choreography. It included a giant parrot head umbrella, Mary flying over the audience, a man walking on the ceiling, and statues coming to life. I enjoyed myself, I have to admit, but probably not as much as I would have if I hadn't been wondering what the forces in charge had been thinking.

When Winston and I saw the movie when we were little, his favorite song was the one about the tuppin. You know, "Feed The Birds, Tuppin's a bag?" We had no idea what a tuppin was, but we liked the pigeons. That song was still in the show. I'm not sure if it was nostalgia or the song itself that made me cry.


Unfortunately, not everyone today agrees with the message of the song. Especially the Statue of Liberty Ferry folk.

Keychain

Watch this video. All of it. At the end, I ask Nick what the best part of his day was. He answers "Getting my keychain."



We went to see the Statue Of Liberty. I have been to see it before, but I was a small child, and I remember not being able to go up to see it because the line was too long and we were going to miss the ferry back and also Emily was crying.

I hadn't been down to that end of the city for years. We were a full block past the big block of cranes that I pointed out to the boys before I realized that this was the World Trade Center site.

Seeing the Statue itself was an experience. First of all, pack light, and be prepared to wait in lines. You know how you go through security at the airport? Well, you do that to get on the ferry. And again to get into the inside of the statue, should you choose to purchase the entry and stand on the line again. I had gotten the tickets to go in, but we were fooled into standing on the line outside, not realizing there was a huge line inside as well. Filled with 100 high school students on a class trip. Joy.

The security is ridiculous. Winston said there have been threats to blow it up. I'm thinking the threats were probably from someone that had gone through the security line. Not only did we have to stand on line a second time, but I had to check my bag. The locker was a dollar for two hours, which I assumed would be plenty of time, and it was done by fingerprint recognition.

The second line took us about an hour to go through. The stupid security gates were those poofy ones that blow air on you. I'm not sure why. Somehow this is supposed to find out if you've touched a bomb. I think they should be able to also let us know if we've got cancer.

After the security lines, there are 156 steps to walk up to get to the top. Of the pedestal. Not inside the statue. You can buy tickets to get to the crown, but you need to purchase them 4 months in advance. I would totally go up! But I would prefer not to be carrying Andrew next time.

Once we got up there, the view was amazing. But the wall came up to my chest, which meant that Nick and Nate were jumping up and down, seeing nothing on their own. Lillian and I had to lift them up one at a time. And each time I put Andy down he wailed, so it was quite a time.

When we finally made it down to the ground again, I went to retrieve my bag. But the fancy shmancy security system that took my fingerprint to secure my bag refused to recognize my fingerprint to open the locker and let me get my bag. It backfired. A lot. I used every single finger on both hands. I tried rolling my finger. I tried holding it further up and to the side. Lillian offered suggestions as I kept punching in the locker number and getting a "No Match Found" message. Is this the same software that matches up criminal fingerprints? Because it seems to work a lot better on "Criminal Minds."

All in all, in was a wonderful day. And we didn't even have time to see Ellis Island. It really is a pity that the security measures take so much pleasure out of the experience, and even act as a deterrent. Not to terrorists, but to tourists.

Guess Where We Went?

I went down to New York for the long weekend with Lillian and the boys. It was a good trip, which left us all exhausted. I am walking around my house like a zombie, waiting for it to be time to make dinner so that we can get it over with and head to bed, or even just sit on front of the TV with my brain on "pause."

The Bare Truth

Andrew is learning how to do more and more things.

He can push the stool from the bathroom to the light switch so that he can turn the lights off. And on. And off. And on. He can put his clothes in the hamper. He can help me put away groceries.

And he can undress himself.

The other morning he climbed into my bed, and I reluctantly got up, waving him out of my room as I blindly groped for my robe and socks.

When I got to the bedroom, he was wearing only his PJ top. He had taken off his pants, AND his diaper. He had put his diaper in the diaper bin in the bathroom. The scraping noise I had heard in my sleep wasn't Nathan getting a drink of water, it was Andy, pushing the bathroom stool over to the toilet so that he could stand on it to pee.

He never actually pees, by the way, he just stands there, aiming.

Which, I suppose, was better than what happened later that day, when I told him I'd meet him in a moment to change his diaper, but he had already removed it and was sitting on the bath mat. Which, under the circumstances, was not so great. Because his bum was not so clean.

And sometimes he just takes his clothes off because. Maybe because he knows how cute he is in a diaper, and senses that this may not always be the case.

Me-OW!

Nicholas just walked into my bedroom, an hour after I tucked him in, to tell me that Frank was in his bed and wouldn't get out.

"Just push him off!" I said.

"I tried but he won't go!" Nick replied.

So I went in to find Frank clinging to Nick's pillow, his body covering the whole thing, claws out.

Part of me wants to be angry at Nick. Be Agressive, Boy! Just shove him off!

Then again, that tactic doesn't work for me, either.

Keep Me In The Dark

On numerous occasions I have expounded on the pain and torture of having children who are early risers. Some people view this as irony, others retribution. In any case, for years I have had to make a daily choice to get out of bed and tend to my children or to ignore the sounds of screaming or my house being torn apart.

But something has changed.

More and more often I am getting out of bed at seven. SEVEN! I mean, I used to only sleep that late on weekends! The kids are sleeping later, and if they aren't they are at least quiet for a good length of time.

And I am still having trouble pulling my lazy self out of bed. I suppose I am getting spoiled, or maybe just stubborn. I shuffle along, doing exactly what we have done every morning for the past three years. We change diapers, we have breakfast, we get dressed, and there is a lot of convincing and cajoling and reminding and rushing during this whole process.

But now that we are sleeping almost an hour later each day, we are running out of time. I find myself in my nightgown with five minutes before the bus is due to arrive, the kids running around with sticky fingers and no shoes, and Andy will pick that moment to remind me he needs a diaper change.

Of course. Now that they let me sleep late, we shouldn't be, and can't.

Cleaning Up

A few years ago I hired a maid service.

At first I had them coming every week, but then I cut it back to once every other week, mostly because the weather was inconsistent and they would cancel on Monday, reschedule for Friday, and then return the following Monday, and I figured... Why?

Then I cut back again. To every three weeks. My reasoning this time was that I do not love the job that they do. I can often spot spilled coffee splotches on the floor after it has been mopped, and they never seem to wash around or outside the toilets. Since I live in a house of three small boys and a large boy (face it - does it make a difference?) this is a must. I think I do a better job.

So I have designated one day a week as "Clean The House Day!" This is the day I clean the house. These days it is Tuesday. I vacuum the whole house, mop the kitchen and the bathrooms, and clean the bathrooms. I don't always get to do it all.

It helps that Andy is obsessed with the vacuum. He loves it. He knows where it is kept, and he pulls it out whenever he can. If I leave it out, he will try to use it. A couple of times he has even managed to plug it in.

It would be more helpful if the older boys would pick up their toys. But they don't. They think about it, but usually end up fighting or deciding they don't care if you put all the toys in the trash. Today I brought out a bin and started putting toys in it. "These toys are going on the High Shelf because you did not pick them up!" I said, using my Big Voice.

The boys did not seem concerned. Nick even walked over to me. "Let me help you, Mom!" he said, and started picking up toys and placing them in the bin.

Which was right next to the toy box. Which was where I had asked him to put the toys in the first place.

Someone, please, help me to understand.

Yea! Gym!

Andrew loves gym class. Whenever we pull in the driveway he shouts "Gym!" from the his carseat. He frets until his teacher comes to fetch the class, and then he runs right up to her, less than six inches between them, his head almost at ninety degrees so he can see her face.

The class is really cute. All of the kids are under two, so the moms follow them around and point out each activity. "Climb the ladder!" "Jump! Jump! Jump!" "Walk on this red beam! This one!"

In between each circuit we sit in a circle and count to ten, clapping. It's a way to focus the kids, to transition them from one activity to the next. But they don't know that. The kids LOVE it. They run right over and clap enthusiastically, their little hands clapping two or three times per number.

I don't know which one of us is more exhausted by the end of the class.

They're BAAACK!

They were here a few years ago.

Most people call them Harmless. Still others refer to them as Practical.

And really, how could something so small be a bother?

But where one may be magical to watch crawl on your finger, hundred are cause for a breakdown.



The Ladybugs are Back.

Argh!

Stand Off

Nate is upstairs crying, loudly, in his bed.

We were all warm and cuddly, and I read stories and tucked him in, and then, moments before I left the room, he said "I want a stuffy!"

(A stuffy is a stuffed animal, folks.)

I said, "OK, get one."

He said, "No. I want YOU to get me one."

I said, "No. You need to get it yourself."

And then the wailing mess we have upstairs.

Holiday Haunting!

Last Christmas, we got one of those little cards that play music when you open them. This one played an electronic beeped version of "We Wish You A Merry Christmas." And during the post holiday clean-up, the card must has gotten stashed in the kitchen drawers, which I recently cleaned out.

Before I could throw the card away, the boys noticed it and immediately began fighting over it.

Naturally, a few days into the beeping and warbling, the card had me batty, and I snuck it into the trash. Not the usual trash, but the trash I take to the dump - It was mixed in with some bigger items.

This was last week.

Tonight I thought about putting the trash out so I wouldn't have to tomorrow, but I noticed a couple of things. 1 - the trash was really smelly, and the crows would have it all over our lawn before dawn, and 2 - the trash can must have a hole in it, and also the trash bag, because the beet soup I had thrown out has now leaked all over the garage floor in a nice, bright red puddle that looks frighteningly like blood. Smelly beet blood.

And then I realized that I was hearing it. Tiny, tinny, persistent and off tune, wishing me a Merry Christmas as I pondered the consequences of leaving the beet stain on our garage floor.

And this was when I knew I was actually insane.

.

Communication Barrier

I think they are called the "Terrible Two's" because the child get so easily frustrated at not being able to communicate. He knows what he wants, he just doesn't have the language to let you know. Especially when he gets tired, the effort is frustrating and he gets angry and inconsolable, and no one can figure out why.

Nick used to point in a general direction and say "Osh?" and then meltdown when we gave him blank looks.

Today, just before bedtime, Andy started crying. "Mine!" He was saying. "No! Mine! Mine!"

And I had no idea what he was talking about. I hadn't taken anything from him. His brothers hadn't taken anything from him. We were all just going in to read stories. "Mine!" he screamed. "Mine!"

"Your what?" I asked.

"No! MINE!" he screamed.

I tried consoling him, but over the past few days I've learned that Andy holds a grudge. He will cry loud, angry tears of vengeance, and sit under the table, refusing to let you pick him up. And he will do it for a long time.

I tried ignoring him, figuring he would get distracted by the book and hush. Instead, he cried louder, and I had to read louder, until I could hardly hear myself.

Then he took the next step and stuck his snotty, tear soaked face in between my head and the book. "Look at ME! I'm telling you something! Something upsetting! And that thing is : MINE! Mine! MINE!"

At one point I turned to him and said "OK, Andy. Go get it." And he stopped crying and left the room. I thought he would come back in with something that was his, or something that might start with the letter M. Or maybe something that ended with "Ime." But instead he just started crying again, as though he had been looking for something and someone had moved it.

This was when I turned to his brothers.

"Does anyone know why Andy is crying?"

"Yes!" Nick said. He was stretched out in Nate's bed, ignoring the whole fiasco. "He's crying because he is tired."

Oh. Yeah.

Maybe Nick should be the mom.

.

Monday, September 29th

5:45 am - Andy wakes me up

5:55 am - change sheets on Andy's crib, and on Nate's bed. Promise to look into more effective night-time diapers

6:00 am - breakfast, feed pets, dress kids, put in a load of wash.

8:00 am - go outside to wait for bus.

8:30 am - bus shows up for Nick.

8:31 am - throw other two kids in car

8:40 am - finally locate keys

8:50 am - drop Nate off at school, drive Andy to Baby Gym class

9:15 am - Baby Gym class

10:30 am - Andy's Storytime at Library

11:15 am - Pick up Nick

11:40 am - Pick up Nate. Eat lunch at the new place next door, and have the check picked up by a nearby table. Wonder how this always happens to me.

12:45 pm - get Nick and Nate to gym class.

1:45 pm - go home and try to get Andy to nap.

2:45 pm - give up on Andy napping, put laundry in dryer, go outside to rake leaves.

4:30 pm - have early dinner so Steve can go to a class.

5:00 pm - clean up

6:00 pm - start getting the kids ready for bath, story, bed.

7:20 pm - tuck the boys in and fold laundry before collapsing.

Arms Full Of Marbles

Today's post has nothing at all to do with this picture. I took it. I think it's pretty. And I don't have any good pictures of the boys to post.


Today I took the boys to the pool. We joined the pool at the Holiday Inn so that we could have a place to go to splash around and to practice swimming. It's not swanky, but it's a pool, and usually the only other people there are elderly or vastly overweight ladies, and sometimes a few other young kids.

But today a woman walked in with three bigger kids. And when I say big, I mean the biggest one probably displaced more water than I did. This wouldn't have been a big deal, except that he chose to displace it again and again and again by jumping into the pool, and the around while in the pool.

We've had issues before with kids playing wildly in the pool. There are many signs that say NO DIVING, NO JUMPING, but kids don't read signs. And many parents don't enforce the rule. Even when they do, kids are kids. They don't come there to swim laps, they splash, they kick, they move around, and the once smooth surface of the water becomes a stormy sea with waves overlapping the edges of the pool and splashing right into Andy's face as he hovers, helpless, in his water-wings.

And I understand. I UNDERSTAND.

But these boys... they were bigger. And they were throwing balls - tiny, juggling balls. And they had bad aim, I have to tell you, most of the time the balls ended up out of the pool and one of them had to splash past us to get out of the pool and retrieve it, the splash back in and hurl it to the other end of the water.

The older ladies I spoke about earlier, the ones that do not move around well in water or on land, exited the water and retreated to the hot tub, but not before one of them yelled at the largest boy "No Jumping!" after he practically landed on top of her.

This was the only time I saw the mother react. She then yelled at her son, and it was embarrassing for him, no doubt. But she never seemed to notice how they bumped into other swimmers or how many times I rescued Andy from one of their lurching bodies. She sat there and read a paperback, and at one point actually left to try out the workout room. (There is a glass wall between the rooms.)

And I rolled my eyes, and I thought about how horrible her children were, and how she was making no effort with them. No Effort.

And then Andy decided he would swim without water wings. Nick and Nate were having a go at it, so I guess he wanted to be included. And I was kind of fighting him on it, when I heard Nick start crying and spluttering, and it turned out he had been sans flotation device over his head and needed me and the the boys had been splashing and I hadn't noticed! (Later it came out that one of the boys had actually landed on top of him, but whatever.) Hooray, Mom!

This was followed quickly by Andy jumping into the shallow end of the pool sans water wings and hitting the back of his head on the concrete edge on the way down. Loud crying. Hooray, Mom!

Not to mention the fact that this morning I threw a fit after Nathan pushed Andy in the driveway (Andy has a banged up face) and Nathan also threw a fit, which the school bus driver and our neighbor leaving for work all got to see. And that Nathan himself also has a black eye due to a block being chucked at his face by a brother.

And I thought about all of this as we got dressed to leave the pool, and when we walked back out past the woman reading and her three, very active boys who were drinking gatorades in the hot tub, I realized that there was no way to keep it from happening.

I do my very best, and my kids get banged up and hurt and they hurt each other. They throw fits and they cry and they refuse to go outside because of bees and they insist they can swim when they can't. They fight over junk mail and refuse to pick up toys and then cry when I enforce our rules. And they do it all at the same time, one ofter another, never giving me time to solve one problem before another disaster strikes. It's like trying to carry marbles across the room in your arms, and they keep falling, but if you stop to pick them up, more will fall because you can't really move your arms. And all these people are sitting around watching you do this and thinking "What is her problem? Why does she keep dropping all those stupid marbles?"

A Mile In Your Shoes

Boo!

Andy still calls animals by the sounds he thinks they make.

A cat is a "Meow."

A dog is a "Wha-wha!"

And a cow is a "Booo!"

Can't Breed!

I hab a code, an I can't breed.

I spent all afternoon trying to get the kids to pick up their toys. "I will put them all on the high shelf," I said.

Nick looked thoughtful, then finally asked "For how long?"

I sighed. "For a long time. For at least a week. So are you going to pick them up, or do I have to put them on the high shelf?"

Nate looked at me, serious and wide eyed. "High shelf!"

What followed was hours of boys shoving toys under beds, getting found out, crying, blaming, hitting each other, crying some more, a little bit of picking up, and ending with Nathan shoving all the toys he picked up on top of his dresser - the highest shelf he could reach. Because that as so much easier than the toy bin. Which is right there, on the floor.

I am not feeling well. I would like to go to sleep now. But I am forced to sit here and watch the season premiere of HOUSE.

R2-D-Who?

We take a Star Wars book out of the library each time we go. They are easy ones. I try to select the ones with only a couple of sentences on each page. Nick can't get enough, and I read at least one each day, unless I manage to hide it.

Andy now points to R2-D2. He calls him "Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo!"

2 Cute 2 Handle

Nick and Nate spend last night on The Boat with Steve. We were all prepared to make it a whole-family affair, until we remembered that we had a dog, and that at some point he would have to eat, and more importantly at some point he would have to pee, and he couldn't just hang around for fourteen hours waiting.

Besides, I dislike the cold and don't feel well on the boat.

So I stayed home with Andy.

Nick and Nate had a wonderful time.

And it let me spend some time with Andy. When the boys are at school it's just us, but I'm so foolish in always dragging him shopping or cleaning the house or doing something that needs doing and is so amazingly and totally BORING to a 21 month old toddler.

But when it was just us in the house, we had some good moments. He woke up and I could hear him walking around, looking for his older brothers. I called him in to see me, and he was so enthusiastic about everything I suggested. "You want to go down and get some toast?" "YEAH!"

I need to stop taking the little guy for granted and spend some real time with him.

Ship's Ahoy!

So we got this boat. And it's a very nice boat. And Steve likes it very much. And so do the boys, although I have to say that visiting the boat with the boys is not half as relaxing as visiting the boat without the boys. Because they seem to fall and clonk themselves on land, and the boat pitches back and forth and if they fall below deck they will hit something, and if they fall above deck they are either going to land below deck or in the water. They also can't stay either up or down, they keep going up and down the ladder until I think Steve is going to have a stroke.

But the boat is very nice. Now that the end of the season is almost here I think I'm going to miss it, even just sitting on the mooring. But I have discovered a very unfortunate thing.

I get seasick.

I can't stay below deck for more than a few minutes before starting to feel ill.

This is really starting to put a damper on my dream of moving us to a boat and sailing around the world.

Catching Up

Almost two weeks ago my sister, Anne-E, came to visit. (In case you couldn't tell from the photo I posted in the last entry.) And we went to StoryLand! (In case you couldn't tell from the above photo.)

It was a lot of fun, and I only wish that I could see my sister more often.

Tell me Humpty Dumpty isn't the stuff nightmares are made of.

Feeling yucky

I am feeling rather yucky today. I didn't mean to take a nap - I was just going to rest for a few minutes, but I fell asleep anyway. I slept longer than Nathan, who came in and sat on my bed with Nick. What great kids. I hope Steve feels like pizza for dinner, because the thought of cooking is making me gag.

Join The Chorus

Church services started today, and that's not the only thing. That's right, choir rehearsals! Actually, choir rehearsals started a couple of weeks ago for me, but Sundays after service is rehearsal time for the Youth Choir. Guess who's giving it a try this year?

Yup, Nick and Nate.

Nate is really too young to be in the choir, at 3, but I didn't think there would be any way to get him to sit around and watch Nick. So both of them had their first rehearsal today. They look so small, sitting there with the big kids. The director handed them the music and the took the sheets of paper and leafed through it, as though they could read the music, let alone the words. And they sat there, listening to the music, and dividing up into parts, and sometimes even singing.

FYI - I know that singing is my interest, and not the kids, yet. But I told them they only had to try out two songs, and then they could decide if they wanted to stay in choir.

At one point the director was trying to get the kids to learn some notes. "This sounds familiar," he said. And then he sang the same notes to "Bob, the Builder!" And Nathan's face lit up like it was Christmas.

Over Extending

I think I've bitten off a little more than I can chew at the moment.

I've posted about this new blog I've started. And it's tough, even though I told myself it wasn't going to be like this one, and that I wouldn't hold myself to the same standard in terms of number of posts. But I do feel that it should have some sort of content.

At the same time, I am taking a creative writing class. This shouldn't be too time consuming, as it's online, but I still need to take time to read the lecture, to join in on the online discussion, and to actually do the assignments.

This is all happening at a time when school has just begun and our schedules are topsy turvy anyway, not to mention that church services begin tomorrow (we close for the summer) and choir rehearsals also pick-up.

Maybe normal people can juggle all this, but I can't. I can't find time to shower. And the result (besides being smelly and dirty some days) is that everything I do is less than my best.

And I guess this is my way of explaining just why I've been missing more days than usual, and why some posts have been... unfinished.

A Little Fishy

Steve was talking to Nathan about going on the boat tomorrow. "We'll go on the boat, you, Nick, and me. And we can go fishing!"

Nate turned to him, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Yeah!" Pause. "And I'm gonna stay here!"

I laughed.

BotBot

We like robots here.

Wall-E is a robot. C3PO, R2D2 - robots. Voicebot - robot. Transformers - robots AND ALIENS, which is probably why they are so cool.

Nick sometimes talks about building a robot with Steve, but I think he thinks they will be building C3PO. Steve thinks they will build a box with a blinking light. Half joking I spoke to Nick about wanting a ROOMBA. Nick started asking a few questions, thought about it, then announced "I think I'd like one!"

Nathan calls everything a bot. "This is shoebot" or "This is swingbot." Tonight at dinner he started bouncing his fork off his knee. "This is forkbot. He can fly!" I told him forkbot should fly some pasta into his mouth. He did.

Any calls them all "botbots."

Breaking The Spell

Today was great, all things considered. Nick made it to school. I managed to make it to the library and get a couple of books for myself. I even worked out!

It's just Andy. We constantly have conversations like this:

Andy: Mom!
Me: Yes?
Andy: Mom!
Me: What is it?
Andy: Mommy!
Me: Andy?
Andy: MomMEE!
Me: WHAT DO YOU WANT?
Andy: MOM!

He refuses to use words to ask for things. But he will shout my name louder and louder, even if I'm right there, looking right at him. It really is infuriating.

Labor Day

My sister Anne-E came up for a visit and we went to Storyland. I shouldn't have gone - I should have waited for the boys to be 100%. But I didn't. I am incapable of not going to amusements parks. It was a great time - I'm so glad she came. The boys miss her already.

And tomorrow is the start of a new week. I'm pretending last week didn't happen. And maybe this time everything will go smoothly, naps will be taken on time, and I will actually get to work out.

one at a time

Health Care

Andy is now sporting a 103 fever. He will not eat, and refuses to let me do anything, insisting I hold him ALL THE TIME. Both Nick and Nate were out of school today. So please, understand that where I'm coming from when I write this is a place of being tired and frustrated and having watched too many Disney films back to back.

In the meantime there is all this to do about Health Care, and Reform, and how Obama is obviously bad and evil and wants to brainwash this nation's children, which, I'm sorry, but that is just BS because he's the president and presidents have always, as far as I know, visited schools and spoken to children. And as to the lesson guides, get over it and stop reading into things. Haven't we all been encouraged to think about what is being said? Or to ask what we could do for our country? Or does that only apply when the president is then shot?

The more I read, the more comments I hear, the more I am convinced that people are all selfish bastards who don't give a flying fiddle about anyone other than themselves. I'm sure everyone is brainwashed. No one wants to actually listen to what anyone else has to say. It's just jabbering back and forth and my LORD I am so tired I just want to wash my hands of all of it so that I can stop getting worked up over it all.

How It Begins

We've had a busy week. Nathan has been sick, and had to miss his first day of school. Andrew has not had a fever but has been unbelievably cranky, refusing to let me out of his sight. And today when I picked up Nick his teacher came out to the car to let me know he had been weepy and tired. Kids are getting up at 4am, naps are all over the place, screen time and reading time are distant memories. Not only is my house a mess, but nothing is where it should be during the day, either, no matter how hard I try to keep things - like lunch and dinner - where they belong.

I have been so busy and running around like a lunatic. I haven't been able to run for the last couple of days, which puts me in a bad mood in the best of times. But I've also been overwhelmingly exhausted. And this afternoon I just threw a fit because the boys refused to watch Look Who's Talking or 101 Dalmations, but insisted on Sprout, which I simply refuse to sit through any longer.

And something tells me that maybe, just maybe, this touchiness and this tiredness is the first symptom of whatever it is they've got.

Actually, I kind of hope it is, because otherwise I've got no excuse for feeling so irritated and annoyed at my own offspring.

First Day Of School

Officially, school started today. Today was full of getting used to the new schedule. Getting used to the bus (which drove by our house before turning back), getting used to pick-up (which took 20 minutes because all of the kindergarteners are in car seats), getting used to the delayed nap time (Andy fell asleep in the car and then wouldn't nap and then was Baby Crank until I forced him to nap at 2:30), and getting used to curve balls, like Nathan running a high fever on what was supposed to be his first day.

Poor guy.

Can't Talk - Busy

Nick had his first visit to school. It went well. Except for the bus ride, which took three times longer than it should have, due to the fact that they combines two routes into one for just the kindergarten visit,that every single person had to stop and take a picture, and that the driver wasn't familiar with the streets, many of which were unmarked, so she made some wrong turns, and many people weren't home because by that time it was 20 minutes after the meeting was supposed to start, and so they had driven, but little did they know that 3 out of 4 busses were still driving around.

And also the classrooms weren't ready, specifically his, which still had workers installing carpet in it, and all the toys and books and supplies were stacked in the hallway.

Nick's first real day is tomorrow, when he rides the bus with the big kids, all by himself.

I was supposed to be distracted by Nathan's first day of school. But Nathan came down with a 103 fever this afternoon, and is going nowhere.

Begin the Madness

This week, Steve begins work in a new office, for a new company. So he has to go in to the office every day this week.

This week, school starts. The official start date is Wednesday, but Nick and I will go on a special Kindergarten Only bus ride tomorrow, so we can get used to the bus and meet his teacher. Then on Wednesday Nicholas will ride the bus alone, and I will take Nate to HIS new school.

Gymnastics begins this week, too. Nick and Nate went to their new classes this afternoon. Because of their school schedules, they both have class right when they are used to having nap. They do skip naps every once and awhile, so I was more worried about Andy. But Andy fell asleep at 10 this morning, exhausted from HIS gymnastics class - one I do with him. So he was wide awake and in a good mood while we waited. And by the way, he loved gymnastics. He jumped right in, jumping, climbing, and just having the best time.

It's funny that, technically, I'm not starting anything. But I'm more exhausted than everyone else put together.

My Heart

Sometimes I look at my kids and realize how big they are, and it breaks my heart. I still think of them as little kids and I still think it's funny when Nick says "When I was a kid..."

I never think about how little Andrew or Nathan seem to Nick, or how big Nate or Nick must seem to Andy.

This morning they woke up too early, so I went in and sat on Nate's bed while they played. Andrew walked up to Nicholas and held up his arms. "Up!"

The funny thing was, Nick actually picked him up.

Full Hands

This video has nothing to do with the rest of this post. But it is funny, in a way, if you watch it to the end.

I joined the pool at the nearby Holiday Inn. It's a way to encourage the boys to learn to swim without taking actual swim lessons which are A) costly B) a mere 40 minutes a week and C) crowded with lots of other kids who also need the teacher's attention. I can swim. The kids love the water. Eventually they will learn, as long as I can motivate to get there at least once a week.

We went this afternoon. Getting in the pool is an ordeal, but getting out is a tragedy. No matter how I try to fix it, I'm always naked in the locker room with one kid stomping his dry clothes into a puddle on the floor, one crying because he wasn't dry before putting his underpants on and now they are rolled up and stuck halfway up his thighs, and one kid who is fully dressed and telling me he'll "wait out by the pool!" There is usually crying and yelling involved.

Today, after wrapping it all up and exiting the locker room into the sauna of the pool room, we were all silent and tired, and the boys held my hands and did well, except for the one time Nate slipped and accidentally almost pushed Nick into the pool.

I passed the only other adult at the pool. She looked at me and smiled. "You have your hands full!" she said.

I smiled and nodded and said "Yes, I do!" Because that's more polite than saying "Don't you think I KNOW THAT?"

And as we rounded the corner Nick very loudly asked "Mom, why do ladies always tell you you have full hands?"

Hmmm. Why DO they, now that you mention it?

non sequitur

After the older boys woke up from nap, we started talking about which room we were going to pitch their play tents in and install the huge mega ride-on train that we still have but that I keep in the basement most of the time because it is mega and huge.

Nick: It should be in the living room

Me: Yes, but then Andy might use it early in the morning before everyone is awake, and it would be a problem if someone wanted to watch TV.

Nick: We could put it in my room!

Me: No, because no one would get any sleep. I could push back the dining room table and you guys could ride the train in there.

Nick: Um, yeah, but I don't like that.

Me: Nate, what do you think?

Nate: Tomorrow, I'm gonna have an orange one.

?

To Market To Market

When I was a kid I HATED going to the grocery store with my mother. It wasn't her. At least, not until I was a teenager and became hideous. No, she had a difficult job. She was shopping for seven to ten people. She sometimes ended up with three carts full of food. And a trip often meant being send back to aisles we'd already covered for items she had forgotten or didn't know we needed.

And every time she went we ran into someone she knew. "Hello, Jean!" They'd say. And suddenly they were talking about people I didn't know and didn't care about and chatty chatty chatty and the thing is (sorry Mom!) I knew my mother hated it, too. And more than once, after we walked away and I had asked "WHO was THAT?" in a rude way, she would say "I have no idea."

I rarely run into people I know at the grocery store. For one thing, I shop weekday mornings, when many people work. I also shop at a store one town over, because I like it there better. Finally, I just don't know that many people.

Today we came back from visiting Lillian at the beach place she and her sister rented. I was so tired. I was so tired that on the drive home I kept reminding myself that I was awake. But when we got home I still had to throw sandy clothes into the wash and go grocery shopping so that we could eat. So I dragged the boys to our usual grocery store one town over.

And wouldn't you know it, we ran into TWO somebodies. First was the parent of a child in Nate's class. "How are you?" she asked, har hand on her cart. "Fine!" I said, shoving a barefoot Andrew back into the car cart and trying not to react as Nathan spilled Rice Krispies all over the floor. And then... we chatted.

And it was a little nice, just as it was when we later ran into Nick and Nate's old teacher. But I had to wonder, did it have to be on a day when I was falling apart? And the kids were bouncing all over and spilling things? And I forgot to brush my hair? Maybe I dreamed it.

Fleen Goin Green

I have a new blog.

Don't worry, don't worry, it won't keep me from writing on THIS blog... I hope.

People blog in different ways, for different reasons. Among The Savages (otherwise known as "Kathleen's Blog" or "Your Blog") is primarily about my life, my raising three boys in New Hampshire and cleaning my house. But probably mostly about my kids. The point being that my family lives apart from me and this is a way that I can bore them with minute details while posting pictures of my kids so that everyone can see how they are growing.

But other people have more focused blogs. Like Susan, for example, who is still posting about her weight loss journey. I urge you to go there and check it out if you haven't already. It is very inspiring. In fact, she is part of the inspiration for my new blog.

No, I'm not posting about weight loss, or my exercise log, or my diet.

I'm posting about going green.

When I was a kid, not polluting meant picking up your trash after a picnic, but these days not polluting involves what you eat AT the picnic, where it was grown, how it was grown, how it was packaged. It involves what you use as silverware, the plates. It involves the linen - the picnic blanket itself, what is it made of? And transportation? How did we get there - the bus? Did we walk, bike? Tell me we didn't take that SUV! PLEASE! SOMEbody think of the CHILDREN!

Anyway, I've been thinking about this for some time. And I've been taking tiny steps. Baby steps. And I think I've accomplished a lot (pat self on back.) But I still have a ways to go. There is still a lot I want to do and change. And this new blog will document my changes, my challenges, and will, I hope, be a place where people can either get ideas on things they can do, or where (please please please) they can give me new ideas and things that I can try.

So please stop by. I probably will not be posting there as often as I do here. But I really would appreciate your thoughts and comments.

My Official Excuse

I am bad at keeping up with my yard. I won't say 'garden' because there are no flowers this year, not since the tulips died (and I love the tulips, how I planted them three years ago and how they keep popping up in the spring, more and more of them each time.)

See, when I weed and trim the hedges in the spring I think "There! I've done it!" and I cross it off my list. Because it takes me three weeks to get it all done, and I have other things to DO with my LIFE for goodness sakes! I can't, just CAN NOT go out there every three days and yank the same stupid weeds from the same stupid beds. I can't keep clipping the hedge back! Not when I find myself running after the baby every two minutes to keep him from running into the street, and all while I'm carrying these huge pointy sharp clippers!

So needless to say, while I'm basking in a task well done and stuffing myself with bonbons and gin and tonics by our pool, the weeds grow. And one day I pull into the driveway and wonder when the jungle plants took over the front of our house.

Yesterday I finally went out to weed and clip, huge clippers in hand. I started out well. I was on a roll. I yanked out clumps of the grass that rooted itself there last year. I took down something that had grown taller me. And then I started clipping.

And then I noticed that there were a lot of bees flying around me suddenly.

And then I saw this six inches from my hand.



It was scary. I screamed and yelled at the kids to "Get Inside! NOW NATHAN!" While more and more of the buzzy beasts poured out of the nest. And twenty minutes later I went out, picked up my clippers, and put them away. No more yardwork for now.

But really, it IS a good excuse, is it not?

Foolish Me

Remember how upset I was that the battery charger didn't work for my camera battery?

Well... I was wrong. It does. I just didn't know how to put the battery in. Ha! Hahaha.

Ha.


Ugh.

End Of The Summer

It is not, actually, the end of the summer. In fact, here in New England, the summer has just begun. The problem is that we have set our calendars and our internal clocks to have this be "Back To School Time." It is supposed to be fall. Leaves are supposed to fall, the air crisp itself, and sweaters and cute plaid skirts emerge from the closet.

But things don't work that way, do they? No, instead, the seasons have shifted. "Summer" as in hot, humid, shorts and T-shirt weather lasts until about October, which is when the leaves really fall and the air crisps. And snow, heavy snow, won't really be expected until January, despite the "White Christmas" songs and tales of early storms.

Sure, Nature surprises. But sometimes I feel as though we expect it to conform to the grid I have posted on my kitchen wall. Pools ALWAYS close in mid-August, they say. Even though the heat and humidity waited until them to show up. And just try buying a cute summer outfit right now. No - this is the time to stock up on sweaters and boots, even though the thought is making me ill because I am so overheated.

I do have to say that I'm looking forward to the start of school. I have been planning, anticipating the details, plotting ways to make things run smoothly - which kid gets picked up first, which day is best for gymnastics, the library, food shopping, the pool, how to get Nick fed and dressed and at the bus stop by 7:50 AM...

Watching Nick get on that bus. THAT is going to be hard. Summer won't be the only thing that's over.

Discomfort

I had a dentist appointment today.

I've posted about my dentist before, but for those that haven't read those entries, let me explain. I found my dentist online while working in Cambridge, when my insurance changed, and I wanted something closer to home. He practices in this little town, in the middle of practically nowhere, in a huge farmhouse. He has no receptionist, or hygienist, it's just him. The waiting room looks like a living room from 1972, except for the large desk and the signs talking about payment. The first time I saw him I sat in the chair and suddenly thought about how my body would be found in the woods years from now...

But I like my dentist. There is no wait. I show up, he's usually ready to go. He gets right to it. I never have to "wait for the dentist" after my teeth are cleaned. Twenty minutes, tops. And he doesn't go on and on about how I need a root canal or gum grafts and such. If I need to do a better job brushing or flossing, he'll say so.

I really hate people poking around in my mouth, so I'm just as happy having it over with quickly. Although if I ever actually need a tooth pulled or need a root canal I may choose one of those places with more people in waiting rooms with a doctor too important to learn your name before putting a hand in your mouth.

But usually, I go alone.

Today, I took my three kids with me.

To make matter a bit worse, and I'm sorry because this is TMI (Too Much Information, Mom) but I kind of had to pee. Only I didn't want to make a big production of bringing the kids in with me, or not, so I just decided to wait.

I'm there, in the dentist chair, kinda needing to pee, with a guy scraping my teeth, listening to my three kids start to argue about the toy that's in the waiting room. I could not have been more uncomfortable.

But then the kids worked it out without tears, and I was finished soon with "Look, Mom! No cavities!" So I guess it wasn't THAT bad.

Argh!

Bad Day.

Andy got up at 4:30, and I think that set the tone of the day for me. We spent the first part of the day at the beach, and that was fine. It didn't get REALLY bad until I got home and had to go grocery shopping. The boys were loud and cried. I forgot to get Steve gum, which was the only thing he asked me for. Then I got the battery charger for my camera, but it is the wrong one. Everything I'm doing seems to be wrong, and I am bursting into tears for no reason, and sometimes when I hear a really sad TV commercial jingle. Which is how I know this is all because I am too tired. So I'm just going to have to get back to you all tomorrow.

Love, Kathleen

Shoes

We got new shoes.

And by we, I mean the kids. I actually bought myself a new pair of sneakers to replace my old stinky ones, but they aren't as exciting as the ones the boys got.

Nate got Cookie Monster sneakers. He started talking about these sneakers before we left for the mall. They have pictures of Cookie Monster on them.

Andy got Ernie and Bert sneakers. One has Ernie, the other... Bert. Or, "Nenei" and "Meht" if you happen to be Andy.

Nicholas... despite all the Sesame Street sneakers at Kids Foot Locker... chose black Chuck Taylors. Black converse high tops. Which he is still very excited about.

The monster shoes are cute. The high tops.... make me sad. Because they make Nick look like a big kid.

Frank's Gift

Frank is our cat. One of our cats. He is orange. He drools and sounds like a pigeon when he purrs. He likes to sleep on our bed, even if it means getting kicked many times. He will simply cling to the blanket and pretend all is well.

Just after I put lunch on the table, Gunther started barking. This isn't unusual - Gunther barks at every neighbor that has the audacity to drive a car in or out of their own drives, at every jogger or walker that passes by, and at every truck that drives through our neighborhood, even if it doesn't come anywhere near our HOUSE. But this time Gunther was barking at Frank.

Frank was outside, on the deck, asking to be let in by scratching the glass door and meowing silently. But when I went over to let him in I realized that... Gunther wasn't actually barking at FRANK. What he was REALLY barking at was the thing that Frank and just dropped a centimeter from the door to the porch. A small, furry, dead.... something.

Actually, not so small. Not a mouse. Bigger than my fist. A mole or a vole. I didn't want to look to closely.

I don't remember screaming, but Nick looked at me and said "Mom, why did you make that noise?" And I realized that I was going to have to be very, very brave. Because Steve was not home. And if I didn't clean it up, Gunther was going to eat it.

Once I tried to carry a dead furry thing to the bushes from our house, but I only got halfway there with the thing resting in a pile of paper towels before the weight of it in my hand became too much and I screamed and waved my hand and danced around as if I had just discovered it there, suddenly appearing in my wad of paper towels.

So I took a different approach. "Stay here!" I ordered the boys. Then I walked across the kitchen and out the door to the garage, so I wouldn't have to step OVER it. In the garage, I found what I was looking for - the snow shovel. I then opened the garage door and walked around the house and up the porch steps to the dead furry thing.

All three of the boys were standing at the door, their noses pressed against the glass. It actually took a couple of tries to get the dead thing on the shovel because I didn't want to SMOOSH it, and it kept moving and flipping over, leaving little dots of blood on the deck. But finally I got it. I then walked down the steps the the backyard, and then over to the bushes, where I flung the dead thinginto the brush (which has so nicely sprouted up from where I cut it back this spring.)

I wiped blood off the snow shovel and hung it up, and then went back into the kitchen, where the boys were standing, staring at me while Gunther tried to eat their chicken nuggets.

I was proud of myself, but I guess I wasn't as sturdy and calm as I thought. "Mom," Nick asked later, "why were you crying out there?"

Please, Weight....

I have a new link in my sidebar.

When I was in Florida this spring, I found myself talking with my sister and my brother about our weights. My brother and I were telling my sister how amazing she looked, and how incredibly skinny. And my sister said something... I don't remember exactly... but she mentioned that she refused to let herself weight any more than XXX pounds.

And my first thought was "Dude - that's my goal weight. That's what I've been trying to get down to since before my first pregnancy!"

So... I know that I am not huge, and I do love my body and my curves (except my tummy) and all that stuff. But I also know that I like being in shape and that I could stand to loose a few. In my case it's more about eating less cookies, but... you know. Cookies - who can say no?

So, in case you haven't noticed, I have a new link in my sidebar. Susan is someone very dear to me who is willing to share her weight loss journey, and if you're trying to loose any weight at all, or maybe even trying not to gain, she might be going through the same kind of things you are. Drop by her site and see what she has to say!

Time Is On Your Side

I have ordered the battery charger for my phone. When I have good pictures (or even bad ones) I can think of things to write here. But sometimes... I guess I just think "who would want to read this if there isn't a visual aid / distraction?"

The good news is, I am actually getting things done. I am filling out paperwork for pre-school. I am returning books to the library. I am ordering battery chargers. All that fun stuff.

so just a few more days, folks, and cute photos can be viewed.

It Is Hot

It is so hot today. I made absolutely no effort to take the kids out of the house, unless you count the phone call I tried to make to the Pool, to see if it was open (they had closed it.) But the phone number seems not to be working, so I couldn't get through.

It's the first really uncomfortable day of heat. In August. Just as I'm thinking that I'm late with the back-to-school shopping.

Crazy Train

Today I took the kids on a spur of the moment trip to Canobie Lake Park. We got very wet, spent a lot of money on food, and Nick and Nate both won very large stuffed animals, one of which was larger than Andy with five time the head size and ended up taking the stroller because there was no other way to carry the stupid thing.

I am tired and going to bed now.

Stop The World... etc.

Last night I spent my first night on the boat.

Note To Self - Sleeping on the boat after a lobster and two green apple martinis is NOT a good idea. I couldn't stay below deck, and had to sleep outside. It was very cold. But the sunset / sunrise was amazing!

The only thing is, I've been off the boat 12 hours already and the world is still bobbing up and down like waves. And since I'm tired from my restless night.... this little post is all I can eek out.

Fishy Fishy

We have a boat. The day after we got home from Tennessee, Steve took Nick and Nate fishing on the boat. I wasn't there, but they all seemed to have fun. No one caught anything except Nick, who managed to somehow catch 4 skate, which is are a little bit like sting ray.

Diego In Tennessee

This trip to Franklin I noticed that the playground we visit has a trail leading to a civil war fort. Or at least the place on the hill where the civil war fort once stood. And a trench around it. And since I was curious, I forced Jamie and the boys to go hiking with me one morning, in between rainstorms. It was very, very wet and muddy, and also very humid. After about ten steps into the woods Nathan practically shouted "This must be the rainforest!"

I managed to ruin my sneakers by getting them so soaked they didn't dry for four days.

It wasn't too long a hike, but it was so wet and such an ordeal getting the boys to walk without falling or bumping or pushing that we were exhausted. I took off my sneakers and we let the boys play at the playground until we just couldn't stand it anymore and piled them into the car so we could go to lunch.

Only we then checked the clock and discovered it was only 9:45. AM.

New Things

Over five years ago, when Lillian offered to purchase our crib, I chose one that could be changed to a toddler bed. How ideal, I thought. Although I had no idea when that transition would take place. How long does a child stay in a crib? I guess the answer is... it depends. At least according to our pediatrician. Some children stay in their cribs until they are past 3 years old. These must be the same kids who learn to climb stairs at age four and sit in strollers until they are six. But my kids usually climb out somewhere at 18 months, and while this doesn't mean I HAVE to get them out of the crib, the threat of small broken limbs is definitely a motivator.

But in our house, there was usually another baby on the way at this point. So both Nick and Nate went right to big boy beds. Nobody knew how much use that crib would actually get.

Today, for the first time, the crib was reconfigured into a toddler bed. Not that it will keep him in or out - I'll still wake up at 2am to find him next to me. But it will keep him a little bit safer. And Andy, who is very happy and maybe even proud, is sleeping there as I type.

Also, I think I left the battery charger to my camera battery in Tennessee, so until I can order a new one and recharge, you'll be getting whatever I have.

Historic Town

No trip to Franklin would be complete without a visit to, of course, Ben and Jerry's. Never mind that we could drive to the actual factory in Vermont in a few hours, we had to go to Tennessee.

Seriously, Franklin has a lot of History, due to being the site of a battle during the Civil War. Read "The Widow Of The South" which takes place in Franklin, and you'll see what I mean. Lots of boys died, and there is a graveyard, and the famous Carter House, to prove it. But the Carter House looks downright shabby when compared to some of the grand homes we drove by - huge porches and gables and columns and trees... And the folks in the downtown area like to prove that the town is grand by keeping open a number of pricey and interesting shops. Like that soap store that makes it in the shape of food. And the toy store with really sure toys... and the second hand, the boutiques, the craft shoppes...

I took the boys into a craft shop so I could peek at some handmade quilts, and the lady there asked if she could give them crackers and jam... which they eagerly ate, and then walked over to me with their sticky fingers. "Mom! What are you looking at?!" Oh, just a quilt that costs more than you STEP AWAY WITH THOSE JAMMY HANDS!

Also, in case you were wondering, taking Aunt Betty to a Pizza Place called "The Mellow Mushroom" might be a little awkward.

Travel With Children

Kids are... interesting.

I can't remember all of the crazy things the kids said and did on our trip down. Sure, Nick did ask me how I felt sleeping with no pillow on the way down. "Because there are three pillows, and I like sleeping with three pillows. So how about I sleep with three pillows, and you sleep with no pillows. Is that OK?" And Nate cartwheeled off the bench in Cici's Pizza for no apparent reason except the floor was acting as a head-magnet.

And there was also the horrible, horrifying day we went to visit Mary's grave, where we got out of the car and then Nick threw up all over the drive - we hope none of the people at the funeral (including the military guard) noticed.

Here are a few rules for myself, if I even forget and decide to do this again:

- Do not forget the sip cups.

- You are driving. It's OK to bring extra pants for the boys.

- No matter how long you spend at a rest stop, one of the kids will have to pee ten minutes after you start driving. Bring a big cup.

- If you pack snacks and bring fruit, throw it out after the first day.

- Order the boys happy meals if you must, but don't order anything for yourself. You aren't really hungry, and the boys will not eat their happy meals, they just want the toy. You can eat the cheeseburgers when they run off to the huge gerbil tubes.

- It's OK to drink soda, but switch to decaf after 3pm so you will get a good night's sleep. The same for the boys.

- Do not go hiking in your sneakers in the wet grass the day before you leave, because your sneakers will still be wet and it will make the car smell like a giant wet sneaker.


The End.

.

Opry Mills

As much as I love visiting in the house in Franklin, there is only so much time three little boys can spend sitting still. Eventually, they need to get out and run around the yard, or be taken to the park. Since the weather was rainy a lot of the time during our trip (and almost every second Jamie spent behind the wheel) I took us all to the Opry Mills Mall. Well, not Aunt Betty, because she was tired.

I know. I know. The mall. But hey, this is not a small mall. It's got really, really high ceilings and huge stores. The food court not only has a carousel, but a rope challenge! I thought Andy would have trouble with that, though.

Then we visited the Stingray Reef, where we paid money to touch stingrays. Really. There was this huge swimming pool full of stingrays. The very tip of it was limited to baby stingrays, and we were allowed to pet the baby stingrays. I touched one. I even made my boys touch them. Because we were there, and the stingrays were there. But Jamie refused. Did you know he's afraid of fish? He is. It's funny.
I also paid $2 for "Stingray food" which turned out to be three peices of shrimp, which I was supposed to hold between my fingers while allowing a full grown stingray to envelop my arm. I tried. But those suckers and as big as bathtubs. I closed my eyes, but even so, I felt the fleshy wing of one on my arm and I couldn't help thinking my whole hand was going to disappear. So I screamed and yanked my arm back. One of the employees came over to show me how easy it was, and she held out the shrimp, and the stingray bit her! And she was bleeding. Ha! So we rode the carousel that belonged to the Stingray Reef,

and then moved over to have lunch at the Aquarium Restaurant next door.



While we were there, Jamie pointed out that a stingray killed Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, and that I had taken the word of a ten-year-old stranger that the stingers had been removed. I must have lost my mind.

It was fun. I had a great time. I think the boys (including Jamie) did, too.

The Reason for the Thing

One of the questions I am asked when I have imaginary interviews in my head is "Kathleen, why do you insist on dragging your young boys to Franklin, Tennessee once or twice a year, especially when it is so far away, and so difficult to spell?" To which I reply "I have an aunt living in Franklin, and try spelling Albuquerque."

I don't get to see my Aunt Betty very often, but I think about her a lot, and I wish we lived closer. I only drive down because flying is so expensive and unreliable. I'd rather know I'm going to spend two days in a car and then spend two days in the car than think I'm going to take a three hour flight and then spend eight hours on a runway only to disembark and fly to Detroit and then fly to Charlotte before finally making it to Nashville with no more diapers or juice and also they sent my bags to Fargo.

This trip would not have been possible without Jamie. When I sent the message out to my brothers and sisters asking if they wanted to join me I fully expected a chorus of NO's. But Jamie said "OK!" in that way that only Jamie can. He was great! THANKS, JAMIE!

Betty is fine. The trip was really great. The worst part was after we dropped Jamie off, when it took us six more hours to get home. Where were all these people going at noon on Saturday? The Cape? Also, our navigation system was overcome with a burning desire to see Chattanooga on our trip home, and we took a few wrong turns before we figured it out.

I'll post more photos soon.

My Own Home

When we were kids coming home from vacation, the first thing my brothers and sisters and I would do was run around the house to look at each room. There was a funny feeling. Everything looked so odd and so familiar at the same time, as though there were some alternate reality and we were visitors in our own home.

That's where I am right now. In the "visitor in my own home, familiarly disoritented" stage. But I am back, and I do have photographs, and stories, and new adventures to share with you!

Gosh, I hope people still check in here.