Lazy Days of Summer?

So.

The real reason for the lack of blogging is out and I feel much better.  I really am no good at keeping secrets.  I can do it, but it drives me nuts.

I didn't really mean to do the big reveal and then disappear for a week.  I've gotten interesting reactions, and of course I have a lot of my own thoughts, but I'll delve into that at another time.

For now, I am trying to recoup after a long, busy week and an even busier weekend.  It was someone's birthday on Saturday . . .

Sally's Sixth!

and we had a great time celebrating.

My kids are used to low-key family birthday celebrations, so Rob and I have started letting them direct the festivities for the day.  We let them know if what they ask for is too excessive, but it usually isn't a problem.  Most often, we meet up with my parents for dinner and then have birthday cake.

This year for her birthday, Sally asked if she could get her nails done and hair cut at Sweet and Sassy.  If you've never heard of Sweet and Sassy, you can be thankful.  It's an overpriced salon and spa for little girls, and it looks like a glitter bomb exploded inside.  They even have a pink limo you can rent.

Sally and Mopsy, with a Baby photobomber. 

But Sally is practically made of glitter, so it's her kind of place. She went once for a friend's birthday party, and she nearly had a stroke from the excitement.

Sally got her nails painted and her summer haircut (complete with glitter spray), and as an added birthday treat, she got her ears pierced.  Happily, the salon does a tandem piercing so it's a once and done deal.  After a few tears, she was very happy to see tiny little birthstones sparkling in her ears.

With her cuddly pal after the piercing and primping

On Sunday, the first four and I continued the festive weekend by seeing Pixar's new movie, "Brave."

I was happy to read these two reviews, but I knew I wanted to see it when I read an article in Entertainment Weekly that complained of the heroine basically not being feminist enough.  And of loving her family and trying to please them.  Sounds like my kind of film. 


Plus, it's Scottish, so it was almost a given that my lads and lasses would be going. 


I don't want to give away any plot details, because there are some twists that really make the movie, but we all enjoyed it.  There are some scary/intense action sequences that may be too much for very young/sensitive viewers, but I took the 12, 9, 6, and 4 year olds and they did well.  Sally hid her eyes for a few seconds a couple of times, but other than that the scary parts did not seem to bother them too much.


Let me put it this way: I'd go more by sensitivity than by age.  I never would have taken Francie to this movie at age 4.  She is very, very sensitive to visual images; so much so, that she now censors herself on certain popular movies with strong thematic elements (like "The Hunger Games," which all her friends have seen already). She knows that she is especially affected by a movie in the theater, where it is huge and dark and loud.  She does much better seeing movies at home, on video, with all her comfort items, where she can adjust all the settings and turn the movie off if she wants.  She often waits months for movies to come through Netflix instead of seeing them in the theater.


Bun, on the other hand, is four and sailed right through this movie.  He is just not as sensitive as Francie.  The girls did cry at the end, but it was because of a particularly emotional mother/daughter moment and not out of fear.  The boys, of course, didn't bat an eyelash at the mother/daughter element. 


"Brave" reminds me very much of old fairy tales, the kind they haven't watered down and sanitized, and  there is a lot of thematic content that I found very appealing.  I also recognized some issues parallel to my own stage in life right now, so that made it almost topical for me.


Merida, the heroine, does love her family, but she's a teenager.  She's convinced her mother just nags her and doesn't listen to her dreams.  She bemoans her mother's lack of understanding, and after setting in motion a series of events that threaten her family, her clan, and her life, she still protests, "But it's not my fault!!"   It is her fault, but part of growing up is owning the mistakes and putting things right if you can.


For her part, Merida's mother, Queen Elinor, also misses the mark on communication at times.  Of  course she loves her daughter -- loves her more than her own life and proves it -- but she's also not connecting with her.  In the course of events, she learns to really hear what Merida has learned on her own.  That can be a hard lesson for a parent sometimes.


Other things I loved about the movie were Merida's delightful relationship with her father; her closeness with her brothers, even when exasperated; her parents strong and loving marriage, and the fact that they are still very much in love; and the show of chivalry.  I can't remember the last modern movie I've seen where the men stood up and showed respect when women entered the room.  


Also?  The kids thought it was awesome that Queen Elinor sounded exactly like their Grandma at times.  I've always thought my mother-in-law has a very regal bearing (not stuffy, just regal).


The men in the movie are sometimes clownish, but I think it was more in an effort for slapstick humor than belittling men in general.  Merida's father, and his friends, show up in the clutch.  Not surprisingly, my boys found the mischievous triplet brothers to be hilarious. 


All in all, it was a very nice afternoon at the movies, which is always a relief after spending the GNP of a small nation on tickets and snacks.  I guess that's why we only go for special occasions! 


This week is vacation bible school, so there is no sign of slowing down just yet, but be sure to remind me of this in August, when I have run out of fun ideas and it's hot and we are tired of each other's faces day in and day out.  I might wish for a little busy-ness right about then.

A Note From Baby

In case my photography skills do not nullify a thousand words, here's one word that ought to get the message across:

Expected at Christmas, and prayers gratefully accepted!

7 Quick Takes

I have exactly 20 minutes to do these quick takes.  No kidding, the timer is set.  It's go time!

One

Rob got a very nice compliment from one of his patients the other day. I thought I'd share it, just to remind us that people are always watching our actions, whether we realize it or not.

After taking care of his family, Rob's patient pulled him aside and said, "Doc, can I ask you a question?"  "Of course," replied Rob.  "Are you a Christian?"  "Yes, I am."  "I knew it.  I knew it from the way you treat my family.  I knew you were."

So there you go.  I guess the song we sang at every grade school mass is correct in a way.  They really will know we are Christians by our love.

Two

I found the boys huddled under Bun's comforter this morning, playing video games after I had told them not to.  As I yelled at Bun, who I suspected to be the instigator, his brother sprang passionately to his defense.  It warmed my heart so much that I let both of them go with a warning.

Then later, when Fiver was sequestered in his room to do some of his summer reading, I found Bun sitting on the sofa with a long face.  "I miss my brudder when he's not with me."   Oh, man, sweet, right?

Not two minutes later, Bun was in the sin bin for walking upstairs and whacking his beloved "brudder" on the back, telling him to hurry up with the reading and get out of their room.

So, yeah. Typical.

Three

Isn't this a cool drawing?  Bun presented it to my mother and me last week.  Can you guess what it is?

Four

It's a church!  Bun showed us and said, "This is my weally big church with a gold cross and doors on the sides."

I think this is a mighty fine 4 year old artist's rendering of a church.  He's got a wild streak, but maybe he's destined for something great.  I'll ask St. Augustine to take it under advisement.

Five

I still want to rip-off borrow Camp Patton's Simon Says idea, but I can't think of what to call it.  Colleen suggested "Rob's Rants,"  which would work if we were talking about me (rant central, right here), but Rob hardly ever rants.  Like ever.  With Rob, it's more like pithy, wry comments, usually in regard to something ridiculous the children or I have done.

Rob's Ruminations?  The Mind of Rob?  Rob's World?  What?   I mean, nothing is going to be as perfect as "Simon Says."  That name is money, right there.

Why can't Rob have a more convenient name?  I'm sure he'd have something pithy to say if he was here right now.

Six

I have exactly 7 minutes left.

Seven

Even though I don't have a name for this part, here are a few pearls from Rob to get you started:

• (after hearing our fireworks-obsessed neighbors set off just one loud explosive):  

          "Huh. I guess they are coming by land."

• (after witnessing Mopsy's new midday obsession with stripping off her clothes and wearing her very fancy princess nightgown around the house):

           "Mopsy has now entered the evening wear portion of the competition."

• (after I ate an overly generous portion of dessert, I nudged him aside in the kitchen, telling him to make way for his fat wife)

           "Oh, she found me?  Well, this will be awkward."

Aaaaand, time.  

Have a great weekend, my friends!

{p,h,f,r}: The Crystal Anniversary Edition

We've been married for fifteen years today, but my heart has been his for more than half of my life.

There's so much I always want to say, but I will just say this for now . . .

Thank you, Rob. Thank you for this life together, for all of it.  For the love, for the laughter, for the faith, for the joy, for the fun, for the devotion, for the constancy, for the steadfastness, and for the babies.  Especially for all the babies.

Every day as your wife has been my pleasure.  I love you.

We've Only Just Begun

How do you type the sound of a loooong exhalation? What characters do you need to use to approximate the sound of collapsing on the couch?  Because that's what's going on here.

In an extremely convenient turn of events, the last week of school happened to coincide with a conference that Rob had to attend in Kansas City.  Whoopee.  I was an incredibly gracious and understanding spouse, as you can see.

I'll just go ahead and say it: that last week of school is the craziest of the year.  Even crazier than the start of school or the countdown to Christmas vacation.  The teachers, God bless them, are plum wore out, the kids act like rabid baboons (at least mine do), the parents just do not want another blessed piece of paper to come home, and no one has the stamina to pack a lunch anymore.

It's a special time, and one I like to share with my husband.  Mostly by crying "the kids are coming home, what are we all going to do with each other?"  Can you tell that I am no good with schedule changes?

I also left all the teacher's gifts until the very last minute, and I scheduled Fiver's IEP meeting for the day after the kids finished because I like to take all my punches at the same time.

The kids all did very well this year and they were promoted to the next grade.  With Bun going to the pre-K at school, I'll have four little chicks in that building next year.  Good thing we love that school.

Actually, all joking aside for a moment, I really am so happy and proud of our school.  We took two schools, both with long, proud histories and fighting tooth and nail to stay open, and combined them in the span of nine months.  It was nothing short of amazing the way the teachers, kids, staff, and parents did what was best for the school and came together.

In our inaugural year our school won the district and diocesan spelling bees; the district and diocesan academic bowls; first place in swimming; first place in district baseball.  I know I am missing some of our other activities, but honestly, I don't think anyone dreamed that we would come together like this.

Now we just have to keep praying and keep working to make sure the school continues to thrive.

I know it's only Monday, but thankfully this week is already 75% less frenetic than last week. And that is saying something, if you take our lunchtime library/Target/dairy store outing into consideration.  I am planning on pacing myself better in the future.

Right now, I am headed to bed, but now that my schedule is a little lighter I am hoping to get back into a groove here.  I do need to tell you all about a very interesting and eye-opening conversation I had with an old friend recently, so there's that to look forward to.  Plus also too, I think I am going to follow the example of the "Simon Says" feature from Camp Patton so I can share some of Rob's very dry humor with you all.

So obviously, good times ahead.  Stay tuned. 

 

{p,h,f,r}: Summer's Nigh Edition

We are now officially down to half days at school.  I think we are at 3 more half days, but I'm sure the kids have a much more exact countdown going on.  Probably down to the hour.  

Thanks to our mild winter, it's also strawberry season around here.  Yum, yum, I just love strawberry season.  I took the four older kids strawberry picking on Monday morning, and they actually worked pretty well.  Sally was the quickest and most diligent picker -- she filled three buckets!  Bun was the least interested, even though he swore to me that he would pick and not complain.

He held to his word - he did not complain, but neither did he do much picking.  In fact, he mostly directed my sister to pick berries for his bucket.  He'd say, "Oh, I see a really red one right there!  Can you just bend down and grab it for my bucket?"   He'll make a great manager someday.

We picked 29 pounds of strawberries, and most of it is jam now, with a not inconsiderable portion going to enormous strawberry shortcakes for Rob and myself.  The kids like the berries plain, without the cake and whipped cream.  I really don't know where I went wrong with them.

Summer is almost here, friends, and we can practically taste it.  

"See all these delicious strawberries?!  Yeah, I didn't pick a single one."

Fiver and PopPop getting the good stuff out in the field.

Francie even got up early on a vacation day to go picking.

Sally's third bucket of berries.
And the tell-tale red thumb that shows not all of the berries made it to her bucket!

One of the prettiest early summer sights.

Jam!

Old, gross carpet that has been in our house for 15 years.
It doesn't look so bad in this photo, but it used to be white.

Pretty, new carpet.  I realize it looks a lot like the old carpet,
but it looks much different in person.
Besides, this one is supposed to look tan.

Music appreciation time.
Nothing like moving the furniture around to make it all more interesting!

Joining up with Like Mother, Like Daughter for {p,h,f,r}.  Go over there and check out the others, plus Sukie's beautiful wedding! 

{p,h,f,r}: Six's First

Three posts in one week?! What is happening here?  Is it possible that I am getting my act together?

Don't bet on it, my friends.  I am just extraordinarily negligent of pretty much everything else.  Besides, {p,h,f,r} posts are generally light and quick.  (Unless Blogger is having a hissy fit about the photos.)

We are feeling the Short-Timer's Syndrome in a bad way here.  The kids know that there is really nothing left to do at school, homework has become an exercise in eye-rolling, and I have been pushing the kids to use every single dress down day pass they have earned through the year just so I don't have to deal with a uniform.  

I also may or may not have forced them to buy a hot lunch that they do not particularly care for just so I didn't have to make another lunch.  I'll never tell.  

In my opinion, it's the perfect time for a birthday! Something fun to shake up the tedium of those last few days of the school year and to force me off the computer to make a cake.  

Baby had a great day yesterday. The first thing her brothers and sisters did when they woke up was sing to her and coddle her.  She may get all the hand-me-downs and broken toys, but she's never lonely or forgotten.  That's a good deal.

Why are you making me sit here, Mom?  I want to play!

Sorry, Baby, but you must have a First Birthday photo op in your birthday shirt.
It's in the Mom Code Book.  

Besides, I have to make up for all the other days of the year when there are no pictures
of you because I forgot the camera.

Cheese!

I am not a great decorator or cake froster, and that is possibly the worst letter "M" ever to be put on a cake,
but I do like having a homemade cake for the kids' birthdays.
This was strawberry bundt cake with vanilla frosting. 

Baby had no idea why everyone was singing to her, but she knew exactly what to do with the cake.

Bun's baseball obsession continues to grow.  These are Phillies' Lego minifgures.
I found them at the store at our minor league ballpark, so I picked up some of Bun's favorite players.
He made his very own Field of Dreams.

This kid is just funny.
 Except when he is trying to work the word "poop-a-loop" into every conversation.
That gets a little old.

One Love

May 22, 2011

Whoa belly, people!

I mean, really.  How could I have not thought that I was going to have a baby the size of a 2 month old? In retrospect, I can now almost (almost!) forgive all the people who stopped me and tried to convince me that I was actually having more than one baby, despite evidence to the contrary.

This was taken the day before my induction with Baby, and of course, I did go on to have a baby the size of a 2 month old the next morning.

May 23, 2011
I was convinced she was a boy, so the pink hat threw me for the first couple hours.

And now?  Well now, Baby is just the most darling little one year old a gal could hope for.

There's an old saying that every baby is born with a loaf of bread under each arm.  I've heard it many times, and I always looked at it from a material standpoint.  Meaning, even if you are poor, if you remain open to God and He sends you a baby, there will be a way to provide the necessary stuff for that baby.

Since Baby's birth, I've changed the way I look at that proverb.

I don't think it will surprise many people, at least not many people who know me or have read here for a little while, but when baby's pregnancy test was positive, I commenced the mother of all Type A Control Freak Breakdowns.  I mean, I already had a 4 month old, for crying out loud.

We were fortunate enough that welcoming another baby would not mean a choice between clothing the baby or feeding my other children.  We physically had the room and the means.  Another baby would not mean financial ruin for us.

What I didn't have was the emotional means.  It was hard for me to realize that about myself.  It wasn't that I didn't want the baby, but I found it very difficult not to focus on all the things that would be so hard. My constant prayer during Baby's pregnancy was Lord, please release me from my fear.

Baby did not come with a loaf of bread under each arm.  She came with such lovely things, better things, better than bread or diapers or a couple hundred extra square feet for the house.   She came with love, with hope, with fortitude, with sweetness, with laughter, with joy, with grace.

She came with Heaven under her arms.

Happy, happy first birthday, Baby.  Thanks for bringing just what I needed.

T Minus 9 Days

When I realized how busy our May was going to be, I thought I'd be lucky to blog once a week.  So far, my luck has held and I've managed to eke out one spectacularly mediocre recap post per week.

I knew the day would come when even those low standards would be blown out of the water.   That day was this past Friday.  I tried all day to grab a minute to do some quick takes, and that minute never materialized.  Funny how I still cannot change the laws of physics after all these years of trying.

Thankfully, it's raining today and I can use the day to play catch-up at home.  Don't you just love it when the weather matches your schedule/mood perfectly?  I don't think it happens all that often, but today's the day.  I can concentrate on the inside of the house without feeling the pressure of wasting a gorgeous day indoors or not working out in the yard.

Today, I've gotten all the floors washed, several loads of laundry done, and I am almost finished the great drawer switch over to summer clothes.  I still have the menu to plan, but I feel like I got some things done this morning.

Plus, rainy days are good naps days for the little girls.  I just have to watch that I don't succumb to napping with them.

We kicked off the weekend on Friday with the May Procession at the kids' school.  I cannot tell you much I love May Procession.  I remember my elementary school's May Procession very well, and it was something I looked forward to each spring.

It's things like May Procession that make me so happy that I can send my kids to our parish school.  I know that our church has a May Procession for our parishioners, but it's in the evening and it has to compete with every other evening event on our calendar.  At school, they are a captive audience, so to speak.  There is something special about the children being able to leave school for half an hour to pray and honor the Blessed Mother before returning to their studies.

Plus, I get to go with them and hear almost 300 children singing "Queen of the May" in their clear voices.
If you can listen to kids sing this and not get misty, they you are stronger than me:

Our voices ascending, In harmony blending Oh! Thus may our hearts turn Dear Mother, to thee Oh! Thus shall we prove thee How truly we love thee How dark without Mary Life's journey would be O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May O Mary! we crown thee with blossoms today Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May O Virgin most tender Our homage we render Thy love and protection Sweet Mother, to win In danger defend us In sorrow befriend us And shield our hearts From contagion and sin

This is the only picture I could get of Sally.  She was very careful to follow her teacher's instructions to walk the whole way to church with her hands folded.  She barely even spared a glance for the little ones who were calling her name.

Fiver, on the other hand, was waving and chatting it up the whole way.

After working outside all day Saturday, we spent our Sunday afternoon at our local minor league ballpark.  It was our school's spirit day at the game, so we got some really nice seats for a reduced price.  The usual ticket price is not that expensive anyway, so it's not cost prohibitive of the whole family wants to go.

Our stadium is beautiful, and it's the home to the Lehigh Valley Iron Pigs (the Phillies' Triple A affiliate).  We've seen some great baseball, and we've even seen some major league players out on the field if they were down rehabbing an injury.  

Sunday was incredibly hot, but there is just something fun about a baseball game (even though the Pigs lost).   Even the smallest girls were into it.  Mopsy was yelling "Charge!" and "Let's Go Pigs!", and Baby was dancing on my lap and clapping her hands.  

Coca-Cola Park.  That giant Coke bottle above the scoreboard shoots fireworks if one of the home team hits a home run.  Unfortunately, it was the opposing team that hit a grand slam on Sunday.  Arg.

Francie

Sally, simultaneously cheering for the Pigs and yelping about the hot seats

Baby was starting to lose some steam by this point.  

We only made it to the 7th inning stretch, but I'm amazed we made it that far.  The kids were wilting in the heat, but I am happy to say that no one got a sunburn.  It took a ridiculous amount of sunscreen, but my kids are still so white they are practically transparent.

We are now only a little over a week away from the end of the school year.  Technically the kids are finished on June 6th, but with all the snow days they never used this winter, they have quite a few days off between now and then.  Plus, they start with half days on May 31st, which is practically like a day off anyway.  

I haven't got any plans for when they are all here on top of each other, but I think that it can't be harder than last summer when we were all home and I had a newborn and a 14 month old, right?  

Maybe I had better start thinking up some plans anyway.  

7 Quick Takes

Well that week went fast, didn't it?   I'm so glad that I'm not the only one who feels like May is one big freight train barreling down the tracks.  Let's all just try to hang on, okay?

One

Francie's Academic Bowl team competed against the other district winners in the diocesan competition this past Sunday.  Since these things are all day affairs, Rob takes her and I stay home with the rest of the barbarians.

As they were leaving, we were joking with Francie, calling her our favorite District 2 Tribute.  Happily, she did not have to answer quiz bowl questions to the death, but Rob did tell me later that it was pretty grueling.    They answered questions for over four hours straight, with only a few minute breaks in between rounds.   They started just after lunch and played through dinnertime.  My brain hurts just thinking about it.

In the end, they came home with second place (Francie cried, but I think more from exhaustion than disappointment), of which we were very proud.  But then this week, we learned that due to scoring changes, we were actually co-champions with another school!

I'm telling you, I read some of the practice questions and all I can say is those kids' brains are amazing.

(Apparently, I am not smarter than a 7th or 8th grader.)

Two

Anther thing I learned from Academic Bowl?  I cannot take the suspense of competition when one of my children is involved.

Rob would text me updates about how the team was doing, but because of the way the room was set up, and because he is a slave to these things called manners, he couldn't just sit there and constantly text me.  So there would be some long intervals where I had no idea what was happening.  I nearly got an ulcer.

I don't know what I'm going to do, people!  I have a lot of kids and they are all going to want me to watch them in their activities, but I get so nervous for them.   I may need some kind of medication.  Or a thermos of booze.

Three

Hey, Mother's Day is on Sunday!  Did you know that?  Haven't the Hallmark commercials running on a constant loop on every television station embedded themselves in your subconscious yet?  

Rob asked me what I want to do for Mother's Day, and I told him I honestly do not care as long as I do not have to prepare food for anyone at all during the entire day.  Not one sandwich, not one dish of strawberries cut into just the right size, not one cup of chocolate milk with just the right chocolate to milk ratio.  Nada.

Dear Kitchen,  It's not you.  It's not me, either.  It's the kids.  I'll be back on the 14th.  Love, Aimee

Four


I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I am completely fascinated by the show "My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding" on TLC (again, my ugly TLC addiction raises its head).  I cannot explain or defend it.

I don't even know if the depiction of the gypsy culture in America is correct, but I do like the way they defend purity and the family.  But having their daughters look for husbands when they are 14 and discontinuing their education?  Oh man, that's not good.



Five

One of the things I really love about our little parish school is it faithfulness to the Church.  It's old fashioned in the really best way.

The kids are busy preparing for their May Procession and Crowning next week, and last night Fiver was humming a song under his breath as he played a video game.  He does it all the time, and it is usually a good window into his music class since his brain is like a tape recorder.  He hears a song once and he's got it.

Rob was sitting next to him and suddenly started singing the verses to the hymn Fiver was humming.  Fiver looked up at his dad and said, "You know this song, Dad?"  Rob had learned it in school years ago for his May Procession.

Then they both sang it together and they had to mop me up off the floor where I had melted into a little puddle.

Six

I'm sure you've all heard about the Time magazine cover that is making the rounds. And no, I'm not linking to it because Time is ridiculous.

All I have to say is get over yourselves.  You think you are being all edgy and pushing the envelope, but you are really being crass.

And you know what?  The moms are on to you.  We know that you don't give a flying fig about how long we breastfeed our children or if they sleep in our bed.  You just want to divide.  You want to sow discord.

We're over it, because we have more important things to do.  Like raise kids who are smarter than the editors at Time.

Seven

Are you girls reading Emily Stimpson?  I am, and I think she's spot on in so many of her pieces.  She writes great, insightful pieces over at CatholicVote and Our Sunday Visitor.   Check her out!


Happy Mother's Day to all you moms, grandmas, godmothers, spiritual mothers, and mothers-in-waiting!  Enjoy the weekend!

April May Be The Cruelest Month, But May Is The Busiest

I used to wonder why my mother would groan when we flipped the calendar to May.  Then I had children who went to school and I found out why.  Any event or activity that could possibly need to be on my calendar happens in May (or early June, at the latest).

May is killin' me, and we're only four days in.

I do love May, and all the things pencilled on my calendar are great, it's just that there are so many of them.  Birthdays, May crowning, first communions, recitals, spring concerts, baseball games, and she'll have fun, fun, fun, til she collapses at the end of the day . . . .

I don't even really have enough time to do Quick Takes since I am supposed to go to Book Club in four hours and according to my Kindle app I am only 54% finished with the book.  And I still need to shower thanks to my late treadmill run.  The ladies at Book Club will thank me for that more than finishing the book, I'm sure.

So I am leaving you with this:

Bun's obsession with Angry Birds.  He draws them all the time, and labels every single one "Angry Birds."  I am not joking when I say that there are 17 of these drawings on top of my desk right now, each looking remarkably like the other.  

And now I'm off to feed Baby before I have another Angry Bird on my hands.

PS:  But before I go, I just have to brag on Francie for a minute.  She totally rocked her performance of the Queen of Hearts in the school's production of "Alice in Wonderland, Jr." and her Academic Bowl team (think "Jeopardy" for middle school), where she is the only 7th grader who made the team, just crushed the other schools in the District 2 competition last weekend  (but in a Christian way, of course).

Rob said that she contributed very well to the team's answers all day, but in the championship round, she turned on the gas and blew them out of the water.  The moderator asked her afterwards if she was a robot, that's how fast she was ringing in.  To paraphrase Jane Austen: I knew she couldn't have been that smart for nothing . . .  

Not too shabby for a school that didn't even exist last year, huh?!  We are so proud of the kids on the team for all their hard work.  Sunday is the diocesan competition, but no matter what happens, I don't think they'll ever be as happy as winning that first time as a team.

I've Lost that Lovin' Feelin'

Sing it, Righteous Brothers, sing it.

I was justthisclose to shutting down the old place this week, but I didn't because I couldn't come up with a good reason other than, "I'm just not feeling the blog anymore."

At first, I blamed Blogger, with it's inconvenient new template and dashboard and it's weird commenting glitches.  Some people can't comment at all, even though I have no comment moderation enabled, and some people, who have commented here for years, get shunted to my spam comment folder.  I didn't even know I had a spam comment folder.  It's annoying.

Then, I figured I was just burnt out with blogging because I've been doing it for a long time.  A long, long time.  I've just run out of ideas, that's it. But as long as I have kids, I'll always have ideas, am I right?

I thought that maybe my vague feeling of dissatisfaction has to do with my near complete failure to adhere to the healthy eating I had started.  Because, really, don't even ask . . . I can't talk about it anymore.  The failure is just short of epic.

Maybe it's the 2 year old who has finally just run me into the ground.  She is sweet, but holy cow, people.  She is constantly undressing herself, including her diaper, which leads to some unpleasant surprises.  She is silent as a ninja, she can unlock doors and cabinets, she creeps into my bedroom when Baby is asleep and then climbs into Baby's crib and drops down onto her.  She likes to take a running start and leap up onto the kitchen counters (she can climb halfway there already), she can gets her arms out of her car seat straps and partially unbuckle herself.  She is tiny, she is strong, she is flexible, and she is inexorable.

In short, there are many days when I am happy to put her in bed for a nap, because the one thing she won't do is climb out of her crib at nap time.  I have no idea why, but I ain't looking too hard for the answer if you catch my drift.

I think I'm going through some kind of malaise or maybe it's a springtime torpor, I don't know.  Is that even a thing? A Springtime Torpor?  Aren't you supposed to be energized and renewed in the spring?  All I want to do is sit and read books on my Kindle app.  And I was very close to neglecting my children yesterday doing just that.

I looked up "malaise" and "torpor," just to make sure that I had the correct meaning of those words in my head.  Malaise: a vague sense of mental or moral ill-being.  Torpor: a state of mental or motor inactivity with partial or total insensibility.

I think I found my answer: D) all of the above.

The outside of our house looks like the Beverly Hillbillies, before they moved to Beverly.  Our lawn has mostly run to clover and dandelions, so it only looks like grass for about 5 minutes after Rob is done mowing.  I just noticed that a recent storm put a hole in our siding, and there are bikes and bats and badminton birdies (just birdies, no rackets, of course) lying all over.

There is also a strange configuration of sticks and stones (the little pagans) and random plastic buckets half filled with water.  What is it with kids and buckets of water?

All of the trees are at the point where they desperately need to be pruned by a professional, the problem being that there is no tree professional money in the discretionary budget.  Nor is there any "building a lovely screened in porch so we can eat outside without being attacked by wasps" money.  Drat.

There are so many things that need to be done -- common, good-housekeeping things that keep the wheels moving around here.  I just need to actually do them.

I know the antidote to this torpor is to say a prayer and do just one thing.  Just one.  I know I'll feel better if I do one thing today, and once I get started I know I'll keep going.

So that means getting off the computer and getting my rear in gear.  Happy weekend, my friends, and here's to Just One Thing!

PS:  As if I needed anymore confirmation of what I need to do, today is the feast of St. Zita, patron saint of domestic workers and maids.  St. Zita who said that "laziness is fake holiness."  Zowie!  Okay, St. Zita, you've got your work cut out for you. Pray for me!

"I'm glad we're here together in our nation's capital." **

Or:  A disjointed, rambling, slightly salty tale of the efforts of parents with small children to have time away together. 

Rob and I enjoyed a little getaway this past weekend.  Since we could not take a honeymoon, this is just the second time in our married lives that we've gone on a trip alone together.  The last time was 12 years ago, when Francie was a baby and we went to Colonial Williamsburg for a few days.

This June is our 15th anniversary,  and we've added 5 more children in the past 12 years, so we figured the time was ripe to try it again.  We decided on Washington, DC for this go-'round.  Do you think we might be history buffs?

Actually, we wanted a place that was interesting, but also within comfortable driving distance. That way we could maximize our time away while not being too inaccessible in the case of an emergency return.

As the wise Shakespeare once said, "the course of vacation never did run smooth."  He did say that, didn't he?  Because he totally nailed it.

I divvied up the kids with different suckers relatives, because if anyone knows how they can gang up on a person, it's me. Divide and conquer is a good motto if you ever need people to watch a largish brood of tiny Vikings.  I also made obsessively long and detailed childcare lists, and Rob made reservations at a hotel down near the monuments.

Then Fiver came home from school with pain in his ear that made him sob all the way home on the bus.  This child has not had an ear infection in 7 years.  SEVEN. YEARS.

He had no fever and no other complaints aside from the ear, so I called Rob to report the fly in our ointment.  He brought home an otoscope to check the fly's ear, which was full of fluid but not infected.  Rob suspected allergies were to blame for the fluid and resulting pain, so we got him hopped up on allergy meds and ibuprofen.

We were in that limbo where there was no guarantee that it would not turn into an infection, but also nothing much that could be done at the moment.  That's one of the most annoying parental limbos.

He stayed home from school the next day, Thursday, and we were supposed to leave on Friday afternoon.  I spent most of the day Thursday going back and forth between cancelling and staying the course.  If we didn't cancel by Thursday afternoon, and we didn't end up going after all, then we would still be charged for that room.  But I didn't think I could comfortably make that call on Fiver's health until Friday morning.

By Thursday night we had decided to cancel the reservation, but if he felt better and went to school on Friday morning, then we would hop back on the internet and hope that we could make the same reservation all over again.

Long story getting incredibly long, Fiver woke up Friday feeling great.  He went off to school and we made our reservation.  Again.

We left all the instructions for the kids, had to pry some crying children off of us at the door (never fun), and then hit the road to DC.

Where we promptly sat in traffic which we learned was due to an accident that had shut down the highway.  An accident, we came to find out later, that involved a tractor trailer, a van, and a car full of Rob's patients, one of whom was a 3 year old who was airlifted to the hospital. They are all doing well now, thank God.

We finally made it down to DC and checked in, when I got a call from my sister, who was watching the little girls.  All I could really hear was my sweet little baby screaming bloody murder.  This is the baby who cries once a day, tops, and she was screaming like someone was sticking red hot pokers into her.

I was trying to remember any tips or tricks for soothing her for my poor sister, but she is so low maintenance that I couldn't think of any good ones.  And then, as I was wracking my brain, my sister discovered that Mopsy had thrown up.   Fan-DANG-tastic.

To my sister's credit, she calmly hung up the phone to deal with everything, but I was done in.  I was annoyed, tired, sad that my kids were unhappy and sick, and just not feeling the vacation vibe at all.   And I had even packed insensible, frivolous underwear - the kind not made out of six yards of serviceable cotton - so you know I was looking forward to this trip!

Is that too much?  Too private?  Well good, now you know how I felt when 6 different people came up to me and asked me if we were going on this trip specifically to try for #7.  One person even asked if this was our se* weekend (no weird searches, thank you, internet).

Really, folks?  Really?!   Sheesh!  And they say that I should get a hobby . . .

(Although, as Rob said, that's a sweet deal. If we got to go away for a weekend every time I got pregnant we might have about 12 kids right now.)   

Rob wanted to check  out the monuments lit up at night, and I, in my ungracious pissiness, grabbed my coat and said, "Fine. Whatever. Let's go."  Can you see what kind of awesome company I was?

I have to admit that the monuments were beautiful at night; I think I might like them best that way.  It was also interesting to see people whose lives in no way resemble mine.  People who were out jogging along the Mall at 8:30 at night, or dressed up in sparkly tops and high heels headed down to the Metro station.

The next morning we ate breakfast in the hotel, and then started on our plans for the day.  We also got a funny text from my brother, who had Fiver and Sally, telling us that everyone was having a great time, but how did they get our kids to sleep until past 10 in the morning?   Hahahahahaha.  Ha.  Nothing short of drugging them will accomplish that.

We've been to DC enough to know that there is no way we would be able to see or do everything in one day, and we made our peace with that.  We settled on the game plan:  see the stuff that we always bypass because the kids have no patience to see it or because it is inappropriate.

For us, that meant three things:  The National Gallery of Art, The Holocaust Museum, and a movie.
It was a good thing that we kept our sightseeing goals to a minimum because we ended up spending three hours in each museum.

The National Gallery of Art was fantastic, of course.  It was wonderful to go from gallery to gallery, finding one treasure of art after another.  Rob saw his beloved Dutch masters, I got to see my favorite American landscapes and portraiture, and we were both in love with the Renaissance religious art.  

From the NGA, we went to the US Holocaust Memorial Museum. If we hadn't had timed tickets, maybe we should have tried to do the art museum after the Holocaust museum, just to remind ourselves that beauty still exists in the world. 

It was easily the most quiet, most devastating and affecting museum I've ever seen.  I don't know that I heard anyone speak above a whisper besides the museum guides.

Each floor is a different permanent exhibit, and you start at the top of the museum and work your way down.  It is arranged around a central atrium, and you have to cross a glass lined breezeway to get from one part of the exhibit to another.

The light is a welcome change after the darkness of the floor, but it is also a cruel reminder.  Each pane of glass in the breezeways is covered with names.  One breezeway contains the names of entire towns that vanished during the Holocaust, and another contains the first names of victims.  Because our children have very old, Biblical names, I found all of them up on the glass and shuddered.

I know this might sound like a real downer of a day, but it really wasn't.  I am glad I got the chance to see it all, despite spending most of the afternoon crying.

Later that night, we went into Georgetown to see The Hunger Games.  As Rob darkly quipped, "what's better than following the Holocaust museum with a movie about kids trying to kill each other?"  But we had to cram it all in somehow.

The next morning, we had the pleasure of attending Mass at America's Church: the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.   It was so nice to sit together during a whole Mass, and we even got to sing in Latin, which makes Rob so happy.

We visited all the chapels of Our Lady, and then hit the bookstore, where we could have easily spent another few hours.  But it was time to head home, gather all the chicks, and get them back to the nest.

Of course, they all ended up having a wonderful time in their different locations.  Treats were applied liberally, they got completely spoiled by various relatives, and they are already trying to finagle some more "sleep over" time for themselves.

And now I have got to get back into the swing of things.  I still have the suitcases sitting out, although at least they are empty, and I have been trying to post this for nearly four days.  I am still on vacation time apparently.

We are so, so thankful to GeeGee and Pop, Aunt JuJu, and Uncle JB and Aunt J, who gave up their weekends to our kids while we were away.  You guys are the best!  In another 12 years, we can just bribe Francie to keep an eye on her siblings for the weekend.  I'm sure nothing can go wrong with that plan, right?



PS:  Who can name the movie where I got the line for the title?

PS2: It turns out that the baby was crying because she was overtired.  My sister put her to bed where she promptly went to sleep and woke up the next morning like a new girl.  And Mopsy threw up because she ate too much junk.

 

The Wayback Kid

Sometimes I think Bun was born about 70 years too late.  

Oh, I know he was born exactly when God wanted him to be born, and I am so thankful for that.  If he was born 70 years ago, I wouldn't have the privilege of being his mother and thinking about that kind of breaks my heart.  If he was born 70 years ago, there would have been no NICU to keep him alive, and who knows what would have become of him.  Maybe they would have put him in a shoebox and made out his death certificate like they did for my premature grandmother.

Obviously, she didn't take the doctor up that death certificate seeing as I'm here on this earth and all.

Bun thinks his Dad hung the moon.  So do I.

All that aside, I still tend to think of Bun as an old fashioned kind of kid.  I don't know why, since I know a lot of kids who enjoy old fashioned games and pursuits, but there is something about him that is old school.


He's the kind of kid that a lot of older people call a "boy's boy."  I think that is a very polite way of saying that Bun is mostly the embodiment of noise with dirt on it.  His resemblance to Dennis the Menace is not unwarranted - right down to that white-blond cowlick on the back of his head.

Replace those six shooters with light sabers and you've got a pretty good picture of Bun on any given day.

Anyone who has read here for longer than two days has probably realized his love for baseball, especially his Phillies.  Baseball, more than any other sport, has captivated him.  He loves America's Game. He memorizes the numbers of his favorite players, he roots for the home team even if they lose (but man does it bug him when they do!), and he likes to sneak down past bedtime and watch a couple innings with us during the season.

He was not exactly charmed by the idea of wearing a newsboy cap.
From the look on his face, you would think that hat was filled with some kind of stinging insect.
But he loves his mother and he wore it for  a total of 5 minutes on Easter Sunday.
That's about 4 more minutes than I thought I'd get.

Throw him outside with a bike and he'll be a happy camper for the rest of the day.  Or better yet, challenge him to a game of hide and seek, tag, or "good guys and bad guys."  (He usually opts to be the bad guy - should I worry?)

Give him rocks, sticks, and dirt. And if you up the ante and let him add water into all that outdoor play?  Well, you have a best friend for life.

He has become as spoiled as his mother with the satellite radio in the van (not an old fashioned thing at all, I know), but he will beg me to listen to the '50s on 5 or '60s on 6 stations.  And if they play Otis Redding or Sam Cooke?  Forget about trying to listen to anything else. That's his jam.

He's our little Wayback Kid, and I love him.  Even after he cut all the heads off of my tulips with a play sword.  Sigh.

That twinkle in his eye spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

Easter Joy

Happy Easter from the HomeFront!

May you and yours be blessed!

from left to right:
Mopsy, Francie, Bun, Fiver, Baby, and Sally

This is the Night

The Risen Christ Appearing to Mary Magdalen
by Rembrandt

"This is the night, which it is written: The night shall be bright as day, dazzling is the night for me, and full of gladness.  The sanctifying power of this night dispels wickedness, washes fault away, restores lost innocence to the fallen, and joy to mourners, drives out hatred, fosters concord and brings down the mighty. . . . Oh truly blessed night, when things of heaven are wed to those of earth, and divine to the human."  (from the Easter Vigil Exsultet)

Spy Wednesday

I'm at the start of some intense prep time around these parts.  My lists are all made, my calendar is full, and it's time to do the heavy lifting.

I think I've gotten our Easter wardrobes in order, just in the nick of time.   Rob bought a new suit yesterday, after I told him that he was not to come home without one.  Shopping is a form of torture for him, but a new suit was a necessity.  He's been working with his old suit for many years, and it was time to release it.  I offered to go out and just buy one for him, to spare him the shopping, but he wanted to try it on himself.

On the other hand, shopping is not so much torture for me as a near occasion of sin.  Gluttony and Envy come to mind specifically.  I love to buy cute clothes for the kids and myself, so I need to watch what I am doing very carefully.

I have worn maternity clothes for the past two Easters and I was itching to wear something with an actual size printed on the label and no elastic band around the middle.  Luckily, I found some great sales, and I was able to get myself two new dresses, and two pairs of shoes which will carry me through any dressy occasions this spring and summer (and the next and the next . . . ).

So cute!  Don't these just scream "good weather, fun times ahead!"?
And they are so comfy.

This is SO not the kind of shoe I usually buy, but believe it or not, they feel fantastic on my feet.
And they go with my dresses perfectly, and they were 40% off, and I had a coupon.
They couldn't be more perfect if they were chanting my name in the store.

Today is the last day that I will do any major Easter shopping (barring any milk/bread runs on Holy Saturday morning), so that means the candy store!  We always go to a local chocolatier for our Easter chocolates because a) I like supporting local businesses, b) it's the same store where my parents got our candy, so tradition!, and c)  YUM!    It is more expensive, but we don't buy very much and the smell of the shop alone is worth the price.

The days coming up are busy and solemn, so if I doubt I will post again before Easter.  Until then, have a blessed Holy Week.  I'll see you after the Resurrection!