My Life To Live

This is one of what may be a very short series of "Soap Opera" posts. Because it's my blog, and I feel like it.

In this episode of MY LIFE TO LIVE: Andrew and his mother accompany a friend to a local courthouse, where they witness a shackled teen in prison garb. Nicholas and Nathan attend a magic show, and delight their mother with tales of the mystical talking rabbit and the coloring book with disappearing pictures. Kathleen saves the life of her son's bean plant by digging it up from the yard before the cold of nightfall. The house then loses power and is plunged into darkness, causing the children to flashback to last fall's ice storm. The return of electricity is met with relief. Tune in tomorrow, for the NEXT episode of MY LIFE TO LIVE! (cue theme music)

As The World Turns...

This is one of what may be a very short series of "Soap Opera" posts. Because it's my blog, and I feel like it.

In this episode of AS THE WORLD TURNS: All three boys woke at dawn, Nicholas rash-free, and were able to squirm their way into their parents' bed before Steve finally woke up. The family had pancakes. They went to church and then out to lunch. Kathleen did yard work while Steve watched the kids, and then they stayed outside until supper time. This makes for a very fine day, but a very boring Soap Opera episode. Sorry. Maybe next time there will be some racy affair or some amnesia or something. Who know? Tune in tomorrow, for the NEXT episode of AS THE WORLD TURNS! (cue theme music)

Days of My Life

This marks the first of what may be a very short series of "Soap Opera" posts. Because it's my blog, and I feel like it.

In this episode of DAYS OF MY LIFE: Andy's mysterious fever returns in the night, and he keeps his mother awake with his general fussiness until 5am, when his brothers wake, at which point he falls deeply asleep. Kathleen takes Andy to pick up some antibiotics (just in case), and to visit a longtime friend and her eleven (OK, three) children, while Steve takes Nick and Nate on a trip of their own. Then the family packs up and goes to their first EVER church auction, where they loose the bid on the Prime Rib Supper but win the Coolest Painting, and where Nicholas's small rash expands to cover his entire upper body, including parts of his HEAD. Is it simply a case of over-scratching from his recent haircut? Or could it be Hives, Chicken Pox, or something much more sinister (irritating?) Tune in tomorrow, for the NEXT episode of DAYS OF MY LIFE! (cue theme music)

I took Andy back to the doctor today because his fever wasn't leaving and his breath smelled really bad. And we found out it isn't Strep. He seemed to be better this afternoon, and I'm holding my breath. Maybe now things can get back to normal. And by "normal" I mean something that looks like this:


please note: the boys aren't technically allowed to jump on the bed, or jump off the bed, but I used to love jumping on the bed, so I have a hard time making them stop.

hmmmmm...

You'll have to forgive me for falling back on photos in my posts. I have my reasons. #1 - no one reads the words, anyway, they just want pictures of the boys! #2 - Andrew is sick. Saturday he had a fever, and then slept for five hours. During the day. From 10am to 3pm. That's... well, that's all day. And the cold hung on, and his fever clung, and Wednesday I took him to the doctor but his lungs were fine and his ears were fine, and what else IS there? But today his fever spiked at 103.4, his little body so hot I could hardly stand to hold him, and he whimpers and insists on being held ALL the time. He won't sleep for longer than an hour a stretch. He stopped eating everything except the occasional bit of Easter Candy. And he doesn't PLAY. He sits there, crying, or staring until his eyes droop and I carry him off to bed.

May You Read Me This Book?

Easter Duds

I tried getting a picture of all three boys in their Easter clothing. I didn't really succeed, but I got something.
















Hope you all had good Holidays.

Upstage

One of Nick's church school projects is to collect pennies to donate to a school that's being built in... a part of the world I can't bring to mind at the moment. But it's one of those with children and poverty and no school. The project is called "Pennies for Peace." Nicholas loves to collect pennies for it, but we don't seem to be able to get the pennies into the actual collection box. Nevertheless, he likes saying "Pennies for Peace!"

In this video I try to capture him saying "Pennies for Peace." Instead, you can observe the following:
- the paint job I did in Andy's room.
- the paint job I did in Nick and Nate's room (through the open door.)
- Andrew squealing in the background for no reason

Out There

The boys have been playing outdoors a lot more often. Andy has taken to crying and pounding on the glass door from the moment he wakes from nap. "Side!" he cries. "Side!"

How To De-Bounce

After a long day bouncing outside and romping around, Tigger likes to relax with a little TV.

Photo Illustration

We've been cranky.

We've been tired.

But we're ready to move on.

Whirlwind

Today was crazy.
Responding to my last post, Andy rebelled and woke up three times last night. Nicholas ran a high fever, so I didn't take him to school. But I took Nate. It started pouring rain, so my plans to work outside this afternoon in the yard had to b put off. Which was good because I needed to catch up on laundry and clean the house. But then Nick woke from nap complaining of a sore throat. I called the doctor's office, drove to pick up Nate (with the two other boys in tow), drove back home to clean the bathrooms and cancel a playdate for tomorrow, drove to the pharmacy to buy more children's motrin, drove to the doctor's office where the boys jumped around the waiting area and then the examination room until the doctor told us Nick had bronchitis, drove to the grocery store where I could get the perscribtions filled and also pick up some dinner, and then back home where I fed the kids, folded laundry, bathed them, struggled to remember what happened in the story "Rapunzel" and then finaly tucked them in.
Which brings me to now.
I have a headache.
What I'd really like is to take a bath, and then curl up in bed with a cup of tea. But I can't muster up the energy to get the toys out of the tub. Instead, I'm sitting here watchng "The Princess Bride" on TV and thinking about all the things I didn't do again today - put away the laundry, hang the pictures, work in the yard, put away the humidifiers... And trying not to break into the Easter Candy I have stored away.

The Good News

Andy is sleeping through the night. For a few nights in a row now. And when he wakes up he doesn't cry right away, he plays for a bit, then starts shouting "MaMA! MaMA!" And this morning, which was my day to sleep in, he shouted "DaDA! DaDA!" How did he know?

Green Foot

I have never been good with plants. I forget to water them. I water them too much. I plant seeds and then realize I can't tell the weeds from the plants. I have planted wildflowers by scattering seeds. I plant grass and it somehow makes it into the flower beds but refuses to grow on the lawn. I have one plant in the house, and only because it is so hearty it can't die. In fact, it made little plant babies!

This year I am undertaking a lot of outdoor work. I am, of course, attacking the pricker bushes that are threatening to take over the earth. There are a lot of those. I rip them right out of the ground and lop them up. I am also attempting to plant a some vegetables this year - tomatoes, beans, and pumpkins. Fun! And useful. But first I need to yank out the weeds and turn over the soil. Therapy.

But it rained, so I couldn't do any work outdoors today. Instead, I decided to transplant the smaller plants, the plant babies, into new pots. Only while I was trying to do that, I was having trouble untangling them. Maybe the plants were too close for too long and merged together? I don't know... All I know is that, without applying too much pressure, I somehow snapped the main plant off at the base. And broke it. Off completely. My one plant. The one that survived weeks of neglect. For years.

I tried to fix it. I tried putting it back, as though it would fuse back with the roots somehow. And I tried to bury the base in the dirt, making it stick up, thinking that maybe it would grow new roots. But it fell over. I'm worse than Charlie Brown.

Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe the babies will still be OK. But I'm leaving them in the big pot. I don't want to wreck anything else.

Stinky

The other morning Andy woke up at 5am. I was hoping he'd go back to sleep, so I let his stay in his crib and scream for a few minutes, and the result was, of course, Nick and Nate both woke up and I had to wake up anyway. But instead of putting on my robe, I pulled on a hoodie that I had worn the day before.

As I was clearing the breakfast dishes, I caught a whiff of what was unmistakably my own body odor on the hoodie. "Wow! I smell! That's gross!" I said. Out loud. And Nicholas said, "Yeah, you do smell, Mom, but I love you anyway!"

Wait, I thought... "Do I always smell?" I asked. Nicholas raised his eyebrows and nodded, completely serious. "But I love you anyway, Mom!"

Nicholas is very sweet, but now I'm paranoid. I swear, I've been showering much more often! And now I'm using all the smelly lotions I only use on special occasions.

Well Crack My Barrel!

Tonight I took the boys to the Cracker Barrel for supper. Say what you will about the place, they have the best French Toast, and I was in the mood for French Toast. For supper. So there.

We were there for about five mnutes when this manager type guy walked up and said "How areyou folks tonight?" in a Southern accent. (Is having a southern accent a prerequisite for working there? Even in New England?) I was kind of afraid he was going to say something along the lines of "Your kids are too loud, and you must leave at once." But instead he told us a man who had seen us come in wanted to buy us dinner, because he thought we were a cute family, and he then placed a $20 bill on the table.

I have to tell you, in my whole life I have never had anyone I did not know buy me a meal before. I have had exactly two men I didn't know buy me drinks at a bars, but not before introdicing themselves, and I have to tell you I ended up marrying one of them.

I glanced back to try to get a look at the man, but the manager said he had left. I said "Thank you!" and then spent the whole night staring at the money. I didn't know what to do. I mean, it's spooky. Some stranger was paying for my meal and WHY? What did he WANT? What did he EXPECT? Should I just leave the bill on the table and ignore it? Should I use it as a generous tip?

And how sad is it that maybe, just maybe, someone in this world did a truly generous thing and offered to pay for dinner for a woman and her three small children, and that gesture is questioned by the recipient and all who hear the tale? Why can't a good deed simply be a good deed these days without people thinking it implies something sinister? What kind of a world is this really?

I watched my car to make sure no one was hanging around it. I came home and locked the doors. But I decided to take it as a gesture of goodwill. I took the money (our dinner was slightly more than that) and I left a good tip. I paid for our meal and I promised myself I would pay it forward. I would use the money to pay for someone else's meal one day, or pay for someone's toll at a tollbooth, or use it for the church collection this Sunday. Hey, maybe I'll do all three. Why not?

I mean... what do you think?

Multiple Thoughts

Andrew is fifteen months old. This is the longest I have gone without being pregnant since... well, since I first became pregnant over five years ago. And I am pretty much getting used to the idea that this is it - there will be no baby girl, no pink snugglies, not even a new blue snuggly in our home. We have three wonderful boys, they keep us busy and happy, and that is enough.

Maybe this decision of ours colors how I view the recent obsession with families with large numbers of children. In particular, I seem to be unable to go a day without hearing an update on the Octomom and the shenanigans surrounding her supersized family. You know the story - a single mother of six decides to undergo fertility treatments and ends up carrying and bearing octuplets. She now has no income and is a single mother of fourteen. Octomom has complained that people are hovering, waiting for her to make a mistake. And I have to admit that she's probably right. And I feel for her because no mother is perfect, every parent will make a mistake. If people are looking that hard, they will see her make a few. But mostly I wish the press would just drop it. Because the woman is obviously insane.

Because who the hell has fourteen children? I mean, she has six to begin with, who the hell wants seven? Getting pregnant with your seventh child is one thing, but she had to go to great lengths to make this happen. As someone with three small children, I can say that yes, there are days I want three more. But not at the same time. And more often than not I'm thinking the ones I have will drive me crazy. Or have already. And this woman has fourteen. Eight of them newborns.

These days large families seem to be the rage. There is the famous Duggar Family, who have 18 Kids and Counting. There is Jon and Kate Plus 8, where a set of twins is followed by sextuplets. And most recently, Table for 12, with two sets of twins and sextuplets. I have to admit, I haven't watched these shows. Not at length. I thought the Duggars were an oddity way back when they only had 14 kids, but now it's almost as though they keep going just so that they can have "the most." And their kids all have "J" names, so we know they're kinda nuts already. Jon and Kate lost me at the second episode I saw, when Kate was complaining that she didn't trust anyone else to clean her house because she was a neat freak. Because I wanted her to get over it. Forget it, I thought. Leave the counter - it will be there later. Your kids will be teenagers tomorrow. Besides, I have only two kids, and my couter has crumbs on it ALL THE TIME. Maybe if you didn't have TV cameras in your house, you'd be a little more laid back about it.

Despite the craziness depicted on these shows, the overall message seems to be that raising large numbers of children is possible. It's hard, but hey! So are getting your taxes done! These guys did it, and look at happy they all are! They have time to be worried about their kitchen counters! Look how happy the kids are! They did it, so can you! Which I think is almost irresponsible of them. Fertility treatments are sometimes a last resort for many couples trying to have children, so I don't really want to say anything negative about them. But it's very important that we don't start to romanticize sextuplets. Most of the time pregnancies like that are horribly complicated and they can have unhappy outcomes. Not to mention the fact that six infants crying WILL push you over the edge. I don't care how patient you are. And the Duggars may have their children one (or two) at a time, but there is simply no way a child in a family of 18 children can get the attention and care needed from the parents. Something will be lost. At that point it's closer to living in a child care facility.

But some people - people like, say, the Octomom, might then think that taking care of a large number of children will be cute, busy but profitable, and altogether doable. Is it? Possibly. Is it in any way recommended? Well...

Anyone who works in childcare knows that there is a legal adult: child ratio for any given age group based on the attention each child needs at each age. For infants, it was one adult for every three infants. Which means to take care of the octuplets, legally, three adults would be needed. For a daycare. And one would hope that at home a child would get more attention than at a daycare.

So... yeah. I think what I'm really doing is defending my decision to have only three children. I think what I'm saying is: I can have kid after kid, but this right now may be as much as I am able to handle - for now. And I think that's OK, even if I'm a little sad about my pink snugglies. And I also think the press may be beating up on the Octomom, and they should leave her alone. But that doesn't mean she's not insane, and in way over her empty head. And I think the multiple child TV shows may be a fad, but I hope they fade away soon because as delightful as these shows may be, and even though they might be effective birth control for some, I think they may give other people, the crazy or not as smart ones, the wrong idea.

MIA for the moment

Meaning... I can't seem to find myself?

Please pardon my appearance, I'm just not myself lately. Headaches, pricker bushes, more headaches... I feel as though I'm recovering from something. Probably Winter. I'll be back posting soon.

Raindrops are falling...

I applied to renew my passport, and it came back in the mail telling me my old passport had been canceled and that I had to apply using form DS-82 (or something) and so I filled out THAT form, and while gathering all the necessary documents to take in with the application I found my current passport, the one I got a couple of years ago, that I somehow blocked out of my mind altogether because I have no memory of getting it or using it or seeing it. Steve says that I'm probably now on some sort of special secret government list.

Yesterday we went shoe shopping, and the boys got summer shoes, and now they insist on wearing sandals ALL THE TIME, even with pyjamas.

I went out to work on the pricker bushes - that's right, it's that time of year, and this time I know what I'm doing - I have the gear, I have the tools, and I know the methods that work best. And we now have days that are warmer that 45 degrees. The kids are even great out there, even though they tend to get a little wet and muddy... I was making a good start, pulling out all those whippy prickly things, tugging them out of the TREES... and then it started raining. Just enough to make me think that the boys shouldn't be outside. I can see the spot I'm working on from the kitchen table... grrrr, pricker bushes!

And now, Nathan is rolling around on the floor singing "I love to Spell! s - p - e - i - llllllllllll!"

Not A Great Day

I didn't have such a great day. Nathan threw the biggest tantrum I have ever seen him have right after breakfast, and it lasted about two hours, right up until gymnastics class. I think the only reason he calmed down was because I told him he'd have to sit it out if he didn't.

Then I drove the kids to the mall to buy shoes. Only I flaked and drove to the wrong mall - the one without the shoe store in it. And by then Andy was sleeping, and we were getting closer to lunch, so I decided we'd go after nap. Nicholas was vocal about his unhappiness at that.

But before nap I remembered that Andy had a doctor's appointment. So I had to do that instead. Which is too bad because Nick's shoes have holes in them and the soles are coming off.

But once I decided I was having a bad day I gave myself a little break. I played Candy Land with the boys. I took a shower while I pretended they weren't jumping on my bed. I made an easy pasta supper. And things were pretty good.