Happy New Year

Well, 30 seconds into 2010 and I'm thinking whew - another decade. Where did it go? Where did the last ten years GO? I'm watching Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's in New York - and okay? When did Dick Clark haeve a stroke? I missed that one. He looks good.

Now Ryan Seacrest and Jennifer Lopez are dancing - okay, what IS she wearing? Yikes.

Anyways, I wish you a great 2010 and a blessed year. I wish you a year of hope, of love, of happiness. As for me, I am praying for a better year with my own health and the will to do what I need to do to continue to improve it. I am also praying for the continued health of my family and friends. I am hopeful for the country and I'm looking forward to so many good things happening this year.

Happy New Year. Nite.

Santa Is NOT Bringing a CAT!

I got up this morning in a pretty good mood. Quinn got up in a pretty good mood, I thought. Then she starts in at breakfast. "I want a cat. Why can't I have a cat? Everything I ask for, I never get. I hate my life. I never get what I want!".

She started on the whole "cat" request to Santa over the weekend. Where that came from, I'll never know? We have tried the gentle let down method - "Santa doesn't bring animals to our house. He just can't." and "Quinn we can't get a cat right now, we have a dog." Even, "I'm sure Santa won't disappoint you!" Nothing satisfied her demand.

Last night she started in at bedtime with "you never spend time with me." and "You don't like me as much as the babies." and "Why do I always have to go to school and they get to stay home with you?" and crying, lots of crying. It got to me. The guilt set in. I was sympathetic, then.

This morning, though, I'd had enough. I am sure it was not my proudest Parenting moment. My head started spinning. My heart started racing! If there is one thing I cannot stand it's my kids being ungrateful, spoiled, demanding divas. I yelled at her and surprising to me, burst into sobs. I told her, "You are not getting a cat! Let it go! I don't want to hear another word about it!" and "You have a life most kids dream of! Get off of it! I try to get you what you want when it's necessary. I flippin' went to Walmart twice to get you a turtle neck in the right color because you didn't like what I picked out!" I told her, "I'm done! Maybe I'll just take all the gifts you're getting and give them to a child who deserves them."

Quinn has a gift for needling you until you break. She hammers at your defenses, chink by chink until you absolutely blow up in her face and then she wonders, why that happened? Accepting "NO" as an answer is not her strong suit.

She immediately started saying, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" and crying. Then she says, "I hate myself. I'm stupid!" and I said, "No! You are not! Don't say that about yourself!". She knows that when she talks like that it gets to me too.

So, it's five minutes before the bus is to arrive and we both have splotchy faces and I'm so mad, I could spit nails. I'm thinking, how, in a matter of minutes did my day go so far south? I think seeing me upset freaked her out, but I just couldn't listen to her "crap" anymore. I really can't wait for puberty! NOT! I probably shoudn't have blown up like that, but I doubt she'll bring up the cat again. I am sure I'm on the Naughty list now - probably gonna find some coal in my stocking. Oh well!

Ah, Lydia.

Today Lydia came home from preschool where they had their Christmas party and said, "Mom, you should have gotten the big napkins for our party." (We were in charge of plates and napkins, so I bought dessert size of both). I asked, "why?". and she said, "we got to ice some cupcakes and mine was pink and I made a BIGGGG mess. I needed more than one little napkin!". I said, "Duly noted. Next party - we get the big ones!" and she said, "good!"

I just found that funny.

A Moment's Peace

I was sitting in the doctor's office today waiting, waiting, waiting to see him for a check up on my back. It was 30 minutes in the wait that I dug out my Christmas list and started going through it and thinking. It was quiet while I waited and I could breathe. I started thinking about how soon Christmas will be here and making lists of all that I have to do. Then my mind drifted off to Quinn and her class party (another to do list was made) and a little girl in there who has told Quinn she doesn't believe in Santa Claus. She told her that parents go out at night to buy presents for their kids. Quinn told her she was nuts because stores are not open at night! How silly! Anyways, I thought, what would I say to this girl if she challenged my belief in Santa?

Then my mind went to my childhood and waiting on the steps to the basement Christmas morning for my parents to wake up so we could go down and see if Santa came the night before. I wouldn't go down because I feared that of all the houses in the world, Santa would get tired and fall asleep on my couch, and he could still be there sleeping. That kid on the steps is still in me. I believe whole heartedly in the spirit of Santa and that is what I tell my own kids. So, if that little girl asks, that's what I'll tell her too.

This year, I fully expect to find Christmas under my tree, feverishly searching for gifts, and wrapped up in Christmas jammies. My four little elves will barely contain themselves racing me down the stairs to see if Santa came to visit them. It will be another notch in their childhood memories and another chapter in our family history. Christmas memories are the best kind, you know. How can you not believe in that? Santa's spirit will forever be a part of me and my kids.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

The Christmas Card

This task is one that should be fun. It's about reconnecting with loved ones and friends. It's about sharing news and pictures of your family. It's spreading Christmas one stamp at a time. This year, it's a little stressful. Writing the perfect Christmas letter with just the right about of newsy information about the family and a little humor is impossible this year. Don't get me wrong, we had a pretty good year. But, it wasn't overly eventful. Of course, if you re-read my blog from January on, you may disagree. I mean, it wasn't eventful in a Christmas letter kind of way.

We didn't move, we didn't have a kid, we didn't take a huge vacation, we kept our jobs (respectively and thankfully), we didn't get a new car. We pretty much maintained the status quo. This could be the shortest Christmas letter ever.

The art of the Christmas letter is one that takes crafting and patience. It takes editing and revising. I don't have that kind of time or energy this holiday season.

Wish me luck! I will probably just refer people to my blog and say, if you want to catch up on our life, here ya go! Is that terrible? Probably.

Merry Christmas!

Mom's Got the Gloves ON

Today was a crazy day. Quinn made her First Reconciliation this morning at 9:00 am and after months of worrying and a nervous breakdown last night, followed by a not so great night of sleep - she went in to the see the priest like a pro. I was so proud of her!

Then we went straight to her basketball game where she got the ball a couple times and made a shot - missed, but made a shot. Yeah!

We had lunch together, which was awesome and then I took Lydia and her to a Gingerbread House making party. We ran home and left for Practice Thanksgiving (long story) and got home around 9:30 am. 12 hours of running like crazy makes for a house that is a disaster.

But, that's not what this is about. Why is it when my kid doesn't get invited to a birthday party that it hurts my feelings? How old am I? I mean, she doesn't know she wasn't invited (yet). When her friends tell her about it tomorrow or later this week, she's going to be upset and I'm going to have to tell her - tell her what!? People are not what you expect them to be? Hey, listen, kid, people disappoint you, get used to it? Hey, sorry, but clicks are clicks and you're not in one! Why am I taking this personally? I don't know.

Maybe I've misunderstood the whole deal and if I have, I apologize. Any Mom would get their hackles up when they feel like their kid has been slighted, right? I am really trying to be a bigger person about this, which is why I am blogging and not blasting this on facebook or in an email. I know, I need to grow up.

Mocha & Me

I stupidly watched the movie Marley & Me today....geez, am I a glutton for punishment, or what? It hit sooo very close to home. My old black beauty of a canine was not the unruly terror that Marley was, but she was my first baby, my first love. She still is.

That day, the one every pet owner dreads, is so swiftly approaching our family and for me, it breaks my heart. In the movie, John Grogan, asks Marley to give him a sign when it's time so he doesn't have to make that awful decision by himself - but Marley didn't. How could he? He got sick.

Animals are man's best friend, because unlike people, they love you unconditionally with all your flaws. They befriend us, trust us, and love us. Letting go of that kind of bond will leave a hole in your life.

Tonight, I watched my friend struggle to get up because of arthritis in her hips and later try to scratch her ear with a paw that just didn't want to quite work for her. I got up to fill her bowl and let her out and what does she do? Wag her tail in anticipation of my attention as if no pain or discomfort existed.

You know, she was the one who comforted me when my heart was broke for the first time. She's the one I cried to when relatives passed and she was my first bedmate. She was my companion for 2 am feedings and bouts of illlness. She's in my wedding album the day I got married with a tulle bow tied regally around her neck. I actually made the photographer come to my home and take her picture with me and I'm so glad I did. She was beside me when I brought four kids into this world and she has always guarded them as her own, unselfishly.

The whole time I was watching that darned movie, I thought, I should turn this off. It's not going to end well. I mean, I had to quit reading the book because I knew it wasn't going to end well. It was like watching a train wreck.

I am hoping my train wreck is still a ways off, but everyday, I notice something new, something a little more pronounced in Mocha's gait or her behavior. Signals. But, then, she'll come to me, act like old times and I'll go on. We all do, putting that train wreck out of our minds another day. How did fourteen and a half years slip by so fast? The day I brought her home, my Mom and little brother had to actually pick her up from the APA because I had a job interview at Washington University (which I didn't get) and they picked me up with her in the car. My bundle of black fuzz who stole my heart in the kennel the minute she knawed on my overall buckles and laid on her back while I stroked her and fell asleep.

Damn movie.

Day 7 - post surgery

Getting around a little better. Bruising getting better and getting annoyed that I can't lift anything, but I'm behaving myself and managing. The twins and I have become imaginative in how to get them up and down from things. They also know that I can't chase them or make them go to time out - which means all manner of discipline has gone in the toilet. Such is life right now.

Day 3 - post surgery

Today, I'm definitely sore and the bruises are something to behold on my backside. I am feeling a little more comfortable, though, and the incision is itchy, so I'm hoping that means, it's healing.

I tapered off my pain meds a little today because every time I took one, an hour later, I'd be sleeping for three hours. I get tired quickly still and I know surgery takes it out of ya - I hate that about it. I'm trying to walk around and stay up a little more because I need to keep moving and building up strength.

I still napped today for two or more hours and will probably be in bed in 10 minutes. The annoying things are I can't bend over, I can't reach, I can't pick up anything. I can barely get dressed and I gained 6 pounds in a day from water retention (that part really blows!).

Carl is doing an amazing job of trying to keep up and even though it's an uphill battle around here, he's doing great! The kids are trying to pitch in - but they forget too. Thank goodness for awesome neighbors who've been helping with dinners and our parents who've been helping with everything under the sun too - I am gonna have a lot to repay when this is all said and done! I am so grateful! Thank you!

Surgery Day

Thursday morning my Dad picked me up in the rain at 6:15 am to go to the outpatient surgery center in Chesterfield. I was not looking forward to my day ahead, but I had little choice in the matter - I had to just get it done.

We got there, checked in, and the nurses took me back to "get ready". First things first - they hand me a very stylish pair of support stockings for my legs to put on under my hospital gown to prevent blood clots. I wasn't sure for a minute if I was going to be able to get them on because it required bending over, but somehow, I did it. Then came the I.V. insertion - which doesn't phase me really and the nurse was an exceptional stick. Kudos to her for that one!

My Dad was then called in to join me while I waited and he had fun watching my blood pressure and heart rate accelerate and slow down as I got more nervous. Apparently, I talk a lot when I get nervous, but it was that or throw up, so talking it was. The anesthesiologist came in and talked to us, the pharmacy dropped off the drugs for after the surgery/pain meds, and the surgeon came in to talk to me.

Finally, around 8:45 am, Carl got there after getting the kids ready and Quinn off to school. He gave me a kiss and I was on my way to surgery. They had just administered a wonderful kiddy cocktail of all kinds of feel good drugs and I was pretty relaxed.

They took me into surgery, I was in the hospital bed, someone was talking to me about the oxygen mask he was going to use and the doctor was talking about his son's make up soccer game that evening when the next thing I know I'm waking up in recovery two hours later.

My throat hurt from the intubation and my back was definitely uncomfortable, although dulled by a slew of medication that they injected just before closing me up. I took my time waking up and actually took a nap for a while. Then I had to drink something, eat something, sit up a while, and use the restroom before I could go home. We left around 2:40 pm and were home around 3:00 pm.

Surgery

Well after fighting to avoid surgery for six months, I am finally succumbing because I have no choice. I can't stand up, I can't sleep in my bed, I can't function, so it's time to do it. I have three herniated discs in my lower back that are invading my spinal canal. There's not much I can do except get it done, do as I'm told and recover with dilligence so that I don't have to do this again.

In that effort, I admit to needing a lot of help. I've set up a calendar at the below site for my friends and family to access and help. Mostly, it's very little time commitment, but it means the world to me. Thanks for all you do for me and my family.

Love,
Adrienne

To access Adrienne Vonder Haar's personal CareCalendar site,
visit http://www.carecalendar.org/logon/23426 and enter the following
information in the appropriate spaces:

CALENDAR ID : 23426
SECURITY CODE : 6637

Get A Heart

A friend of mine had a scare with her child this week and she was telling me that after it all worked out and the child is fine, she realized that nothing else matters in the scheme of things except that her little girl was okay. All the stress she'd been under at home and at work paled in comparison to the way she felt worrying about her daughter. She said she wished she had more time to really be thankful for what she did have in this world instead of worrying about what she didn't have or thought she didn't have.

She said that she wished she had more time to "give back" because she really felt like she had been given a gift in the outcome of this situation with her child and that doing something to show her gratitude for this felt like the right thing to do.

I agreed with her in that we don't take the time to sit and meditate on what is so RIGHT with our worlds and what is so WELL with our lives. We constantly dwell on what is UNDONE, what is WRONG, what is UNJUST or ILL. I often wonder how well equipped I am for tragedy, disease, heartache. I think the stronger your heart, the better you are prepared to deal with life's unexpected twists and turns. I don't mean that you have a good cardiovascular system (although that helps!), but that you've strengthened your heart by doing good, living well, treating people fair and loving a lot. Having a strong heart, having HEART - it matters.

Liar Liar Pants On Fire

Okay, so tonight - it all starts over again. I had hoped that promoting to another grade level would mean that Quinn's "anxiety" would improve. She gets so tired and then something happens and from there it's a downward spiral and our conversation ends up with me feeling like the worst Mom in the world. She lied about something this evening, I found out and grounded her tomorrow. Then she poked at her sister because she was mad at me and got grounded through the week. Then she starts with the, "I hate school!" tirade followed by "you hate me" and "you're so mean!" and "I'm not going to sleep!".

She says she is in an all boys line in gym all the time, she sits next to boys in music and always has to share the keyboard with a boy. She says she is having trouble on the playground finding her friends and they all want to play without her. She says she doesn't like her assigned lunch table and/or her assigned table in the classroom. One thing rolls into another until she's bawling and then says, "I hate second grade! I am not talking to the priest or making my First Communion!". AHHA! Anxiety from PSR tonight. They are starting to prepare for their First Reconciliation and part of that is going Face to Face with the priest. She's totally going to bail on this, and I don't blame her, really.

She then says, she has no one to talk to and won't tell me stuff because she's embarrassed (okay, red flag!). I'm like, what stuff? She says, nothing. I tell her you can tell me anything, I may get upset, but I'll always love you and I want to know about things that go on in her life. It's so HARD TO PARENT - nobody said this was in the job description!

She gets herself so worked up that I don't know if I should just put her to bed crying (which insinuates that I don't care) or lay with her and talk (which ends up escalating in topic until she's mad that the sky is blue practically). I always walk away going - I have no idea what I just did or if it was remotely effective. I also envision me in 10 years dealing with a depressed teenager and wondering what I should have done NOW to head that off at the pass. Is she just dramatic? Is she really just that sensitive? Is she in need of something, like counseling? I don't know!

It makes me so sad. She seems happy most of the time, but then episodes like this make me think there's more to it and I'm not giving her what she needs. She's been saying lately how she wishes she was an only child and that she liked it better before siblings. Is all of this just a cry for attention? I feel like I give her plenty, but maybe she needs something else? Parenting is such a blind leading the blind thing - I mean even the experts don't really know what the heck they're doing. Maybe I am the meanest Mom in the world. I guess I have that going for me.

Shout Out

Shout out to my friend Jenn who will be dropping her daughter off at preschool for the first time this week - Stay strong Jenn! They always stop crying after you leave. Always! Good Luck!

It's coming

Yesterday my husband went on a testoterone induced shopping spree to purchase his dream screen. Yes, we're getting a new and bigger TV. It's something he deserves and has wanted for a while, so I really have no complaints. Did I mention, we're also getting surround sound and a blu-ray DVD player (all a part of the package deal). I don't know about you all, but I've gone television shopping and I don't know if it's my eyes or I'm just not that picky, but all the screens seem to have good pictures. I can't tell one from the other or how fast one is processing verses another. Frankly, give me the good old cathode ray tube and let it be. Color, of course. I'm not ready to revert to monochrome just yet.

Why are TVs some bastion of masculinity that all men feel the need to "enhance"? I mean, it's like a sign - "My TV's bigger than yours!" - nanny nanny boo boo. The funny thing was he took the advertisement of this "deal" to the guys down the street to check out and verify that it was such a "good" deal we couldn't pass it up.

The new black box for our home which sucks the brains out of my kids and hubby is coming tomorrow and getting hooked up next week, so I have a few days still of semi consciousness around here amongst the masses, after that - I'm sure the bigger picture will enthrall them all and they'll be goners to Nickelodeon, Disney, and ESPN.

Maybe Boarding School Isn't Such A Bad Idea.

"I don't want to clean up! I didn't make the mess! Lydia's friends made the mess!" or "I didn't pick up those toys because I didn't get them out, the babies did". I hear this malarkey every day followed by, "you're the meanest Mom in the world! You hate me! Why don't you like me?!". Today, after I sent Quinn to her room for being defiant and just all out insolent, she made a sign that reads, "Please don't come in my room aneless (unless) you are Jayden. I mean it! Hayden, Mom, Dad, Lydia, Will. From Quinn." and another one says, "Go away! Never, ever come in! Go Out! NEVER! From Quinn."

While she was having her fit, Lydia was thrashing on the floor because I was asking her to help clean up the disaster area that was the living room and she was screaming, "it's not fair! Quinn doesn't have to help!"

So, Lydia got sent to her room too and after baths, everyone was in bed by 7:20pm - although the older two didn't actually fall asleep until 8:00pm.

Why is it that they think, just because they didn't get something out to play with it, they don't have to pick it up? I have been saying over and over, we're a family, we work together. It doesn't matter who gets what out, if it needs to be picked up, do it. Lydia and Quinn always say, "It's not fair, the twins don't have to pick up". Frankly, Will is a better cleaner upper than any of them. He just does it as he walks by something. I tell the girls, though, that when they were 2, I didn't ask them to clean up either. I also say, I pick things up all the time that I didn't get out or leave lying around. Quinn told me today, "that's because I'm the Mom, I'm supposed to do that."

Work ethic! This is the beginning of it and I feel like they're off to a rocky start. I'm sure in school they are told to take care of what they get out and put it away, which is fine. But at home, we try to say they should help each other and that when we all do our part to clean up, it goes faster, we get more accomplished, and it's over. Instead, they argue over every little thing and walk over toys they didn't "get out" just to avoid picking up an extra item. It drives me batty! Between this struggle and the, "she hit me! She pinched me! She touched me! She talked to me! She looked at me cross eyed! She called me a baby!" fighting, I am thinking boarding school sounds great - in Switzerland!

I love school, I love school

School started on Monday for the twins and Lydia. The miraculous part of that day was that nobody cried when I left them and everyone was very happy to see me when I picked them up. I think God really helped them get through the morning without tears because He knew I couldn't handle it. The night before I was in tears because I was anticipating how hard letting the twins go would be, especially with them clinging and crying the next day at drop off. When they didn't well up and bawl, it made it so much easier for me to leave. I know there was Divine intervention going on.

Carl said it's not like they're going to kindergarten, why are you so upset? It's just because I remember taking Lydia to this preschool her first day as a two year old and at that point, the twins were in pumpkin seats, only a month old. Now, here I am dropping them off and I don't have anyone else in pumpkin seats. They are the end of the line. It just seems like my babies are getting too big, too fast and I know, all Mom's say that - we're all a broken record, I guess. But, these are my babies and dang it - I have to mourn a little the passing of time, the way they've changed and I haven't. It's like I've stood still and my kids just got away from me. I know, I know - wait until their 15 and I'm saying that.

Tuesday, Quinn started 2nd grade. There, again, it feels like I just put her on the bus for kindergarten. She was so excited to go and how can you be sad when there's that much enthusiasm coming from a 7 year old. She had a great day and hasn't stopped bubbling over all week long.

Wednesday, I expected the twins to blubber a little because, they had smartened up since our visit to preschool on Monday. They now knew that I leave them when we go to the FUN classroom. They didn't disapppoint me, either. The second we hit the door to the building, Hayden started saying, "No! No! No!" and pulling on my hand to leave. We walked Lydia to her classroom and then proceeded to the two year old room. By the time we walked down the hall to the room, Hayden was bawling and tears were puddling on the floor (and some drool!). William ran right in the room to play and then stopped, turned, saw his sister and dissolved into tears himself. Carl had come to drop off with me and we both had to turn and leave them there destroyed. It pretty much made you feel terrible. BUT - they survived. The teacher said that Hayden was definitely not happy about being there, but she didn't cry all day and she participated in everything they did. William got over it pretty quickly and did well. We'll see what next week brings.

The mood in our house during the day this week has been altered dramatically because of school that all I can say is, THANK THE LORD. I was literally tearing my hair out last week and this week, I have more patience, there's so little fighting, the toys stay put away a little longer, the meals are little easier and all around, I've been a better Mom because I am getting a little relief. I needed it. I'm feeling pretty good about how this year will turn out and I hope I'm right. For now, I'll take another Monday of no tears next week and call it a victory. Wish me luck! It's all about the little things after all.

Mastercard Moments

Last night, we were battling getting the older two girls to bed, when Carl very dramatically comes upstairs and says, he is putting his foot down. The girls say, "what?" and he draws attention to an action that he is doing (stomping his foot down) and asks the girls, "what am I doing?" - blank stares rebound. He asks, pointing to his feet, "what is that?" and Lydia bends over to look at his feet and comes back up and says, "a stain?". I busted out laughing because she was so serious. It was just hilarious how far off base his point was to them and then she was so innocent when she said, "a stain?" - priceless.

School Daze

Why is it that we look forward to summer vacation so we don't have a schedule to adhere to and then by the time school rolls around again, we're begging for it to begin so that we have a schedule? Human nature is a weird thing. I, for one, am probably banking too much on the start of school being the cure all to my chaos. I keep thinking, if I can just get to the first day of school, it will all get better.

The kids have been fighting like cats and dogs (worse, actually) and I've been yelling and screaming at them. I am beginning to think the twins are being raised in a home of houligans as they probably assume everyone yells at each other like we do. I am completely at my wits end and that combined with my back issues, makes for a one bummin' mama.

I have never hit a wall as hard as I have recently with motherhood. I mean, it wasn't always "easy" for me, but I never felt as overwhelmed and completely inept at doing my "job" as I have lately. I keep telling myself to have more patience, speak more softly, tread more lightly, have more compassion, be more understanding and the second someone spills something after I had just said, "be careful" - all my self counseling goes out the window and my head starts spinning. It's spilt milk, for crying out loud! I'm all about overreacting lately.

It has become even more apparent to me lately how little I actually can say I accomplish after a whole day's work. I catch up the laundry and "poof!", there's more sitting there to be done. I pick up toys countless times a day only to have the typhoon that is my children toss the playroom in seconds. I clean windows only to have sticky fingerprints liter them in minutes. I do dishes, more dishes reproduce themselves for me to do. I hate meal times - cook, clean up, wipe up kids faces/hands, put everything away, do dishes, think about next meal - over and over and over. I think I'm living Groundhog Day, the movie.

It sounds like I find no joy in my lot in life right now and somedays, I have to struggle very hard to see some, but it's there in the kisses and hugs and giggles. It is just hard to hear those words, "I love you Mom" over the din of my mind racing with all the chores left to do.

My Summer Projects

I have been busy this summer trying to get ahead on some gifts for the fall and winter and trying out the art of amigurumi figures. The kids love the animals and have put their orders in for more. We'll see! My next projects are Halloween costumes and I'm seriously wondering why I promised them that I would make them this year. I think my novice sewing skills might have given me a little more confidence than I deserve and I am hoping that I don't disappoint. I am particularly proud of the baby sweater and bootie set I made my nephew due in October. Carl thinks it's kind of frilly, but I think it turned out sweet.

Amigurumi Elephant

Amigurumi Seal

Boo Cross Stitch for Halloween - framed.

NOEL cross stitch for ornament

Housewarming gift for Howard Family

Crochetted Baby Gift for Nephew due in October
Booties for Nephew

It's a New Day

Bit abashed about my pity party behavior. How selfish of me to wallow, really. I mean, I have so much to be grateful for and thankful for, why wallow? Okay, a little "poor me" goes a long way, I'll admit, but then you have to dust off your butt and get up out of the dirt. Today, I cleaned out the pantry, so now we have no food. My kids are already in withdrawal.

Carl went on his guys' weekend today. Gone fishin' and doing "guy" things. I am really looking forward to having sole control of the TV and my bathroom. It's nice sometimes to have solitude (if you can call it that with four kids hanging around). I just know it's nice to have the quiet after everyone is in bed to just do what I want. Should be a nice weekend and I'll miss him, but as someone wise said a long time ago - absence makes the heart grow fonder. Ha ha ! And if it doesn't, should I worry? (Just kidding!). Have a great Friday!

Having a Pity Party - Want an invite?

I'm not very good at self help. I mean, I can give out advice with the best of them, but taking it myself is not one of my strong suits especially when it comes to weight issues. So, I'm sitting here having a little pity party of my own and I know how this works. I'll get it out of my system and feel like crap, then I'll do something about it. But the fact that I HAVE to do something about it makes finding the actual will to do it, much harder to come by for some reason. I guess it's because I hate being told what to do. I like living by my own rules and I like to eat, frankly.

Newsflash - I hate fruits and veggies. Haven't found a fruit that I like in 36 years, don't think I'm going to find one now. The fact that I don't like fruit is a huge embarrassment to me when I eat at friends' homes. Everyone makes the most beautiful fruit pies and desserts and I have to say, "No thanks! I'm good." People look at you like you're nuts when you tell them you don't like fruit. They always say, "really?" "wow!". Veggies are more my friends than fruit, but only a limited selection.

Believe me you, I WISH I loved all of these things, I wouldn't be in the predicament that I am if I did. Blood tests don't lie to you, unfortunately. Triglycerides are high. Doctors don't sugar coat bad news like "lose weight", "risk of coronary artery disease", "risk of diabetes". They just expect you to fix it, with the help of a dietician, of course. I am really hoping I just don't start bawling while talking to that particular person.

It's not like I don't want to be better for myself and my family. It's just that right now, the mountain seems so high and my ability to climb it seems impaired. Yes, I'll throw out my crutch - I have two herniated discs in my back - what does that mean!? It means, I live with my left foot numb and tingly. It means, I wake up every day in pain and can't walk . It means I live on Aleve and Motrin. It means, walking any distance about kills me and it means, that right now, I can function with all of that. I am terrified of aggravating my back by working out or forcing anything on it when I am finally starting to feel a little better.

So, I'm whining like my 7 year old when she doesn't get what she wants. It's okay, it's part of my pity party and this whole blog thing is therapeutic. I vent, I scream, I heal, I move on. I have a plan.

I hate weight watchers - but I'm going back to it after school starts, August 19th.

I hate diets, but I'm seeing a dietician August 17th.

I hate working out, but I'm going back to it (any day now). Okay, that one's less definite, but a necessity.

In the meantime, I'm going to be cleaning out my pantry, freezers, and fridge.

My kids will hate the new menu, but if I have to be good, everyone has to be good.

My goal is no medication, no weight loss supplements, no drugs.

SO, that's it - pity party over. Thanks for coming. Thanks for listening.

Happy Birthday Daddy, meet me at the ER.

So, yesterday was Carl's 39th birthday and it was seeming to be a rather uneventful day. We had plans to go out to dinner and then to the Muny and Carl's folks were going to watch the kids for us. 4:45pm comes and William takes a nose dive off of a kitchen chair and busts open his bottom lip inside and out. Where was I? 20 feet away. I didn't see it, but he had been sitting with his sisters at the table playing Polly Pockets when the next thing, he was under the table and crawling out like a mad man to me because he was hurt.

I summoned my neighbor, or "second opinion" after I had the blood flow staunched a little and ice in place and Will was settling down a little. She said, "oh, you know mouths bleed so bad." I said, "yes, but come look at this". One glance and her face told me, it needed to be seen by a doctor. Off we went to St. Clare's. The three girls went with my neighbor until my inlaws arrived (as planned originally). I called Carl and he was meeting me at the ER.

Once we were in the ER, they glued the split in his upper chin shut and we were home by 6:30 pm. The race was on to still get dinner and then make it to the Muny - we did it, with indigestion and belly aches - we were there for the opening song. So, an uneventful birthday turned into a milestone (sort of). Our first visit to the ER for our Buddy.

Praise the Lord!

So, we're sitting at dinner and I'm dishing out omlettes to the kids. The younger two start fighting over sippee cups and crying really loud. My four year old says in an exasperated way, "Praise Jesus!" and goes on about her meal. It was so funny! I figure her week at VBS paid off right there!

It has been a busy, busy week and a hard day. I don't know why, but it has and my one glass of white wine at dinner to take the edge off my mood turned into three, so now I'm feeling it and will probably be asleep in an hour.

We had Vacation Bible School this week and the older girls loved it. I love watching them enjoy it and singing all the songs they learn. It's really neat.

My main beef with my day, though, was the crying, the screaming, the tattle taling, the complaining, the drone of it all. It drives me up a wall and there are 38 days left of summer vacation. I may not make it.

24 months

William and Hayden turn two today! Yeah! I can't believe it. It seems like the first year goes by so quickly and they turn one, but they're still babies. Then the second year has gone at light speed and now I look at them, two years old, and they seem so big. I mean, I know they aren't big, but compared to what they were, they're enormous. They are really trying to talk, get into everything, and are two little live wires on the go all the time. I love it.

On the flip side, it's Fourth of July weekend everybody! Enjoy! It's the weekend that means summer is half over, so let's celebrate! We're going to enjoy some fireworks this evening with the babies and some neighbors, then tomorrow, probably more fireworks.

Side note on my state of being - had an x-ray this week and an MRI - determined I have degenerative disc disease and two herniated discs in my lower lumbar region which is putting pressure on my sciatic nerve and causing me so much grief. Doctor said I could try cortisone shots or surgery. I said, I'll get another opinion, if you don't mind. So, I'm going to look into that next week. Sucks to get old.

More later people!

Three days post vacation

Three days post vacay and we're finally unpacked and back to "normal" (Man! I miss vacation). It takes two weeks to pack, three to unpack, and another week to get the kids back on a schedule, but it was worth it. We had a nice time just being away from home and enjoying the kids. It's amazing how much time there is in a day when you don't have to keep up the house, prepare major meals, and do all the other things that take up a busy day at home. We swam, went to Silver Dollar City a couple days, rode the Ducks, played miniature Golf and just hung out. It was great!

This week we have nothing planned so I am going to take advantage of enjoying the kids even more. I am hoping to get to the Botanical Garden and/or Grant's Farm and tonight we're going to the Muny to see Annie. All of this depends, of course, on how my Doctor's visit goes today for my back, though. I am going to plead with him to get me an MRI or something to see what the heck is going on in there. It's been a major pain in the A.S.S. since Easter and I'm done being in pain. It's gotten so bad that I raided the medicine cabinet for the Hyrocodone from my gall bladder surgery last summer. It has helped take the edge off, but the discomfort still persists. Don't worry, not going to get addicted to pain meds. I can barely stand the 1/2 a pill that I take and you're supposed to take 1-2 per dose. For the minor relief it provides, though, it's good enough for now. Gotta get some kids out of the tub! See ya!

Two weeks of work for One week's vacation

I am completely surprised that I haven't stroked out this week. It's been that bad on the blood pressure scale. When the stress hits the fan like it has this week, I often think, thank GOD I don't have a full time job on top of my at home status. I don't think I could do it without some serious uppers or drugs of some kind. I don't know how my friends DO it that are Moms and Full Time Employees. My hat's off to you ladies!

The most baffling thing about the week is why it takes two weeks worth of work to go out of town for one week. We're going to Branson on Monday and I seriously have nothing packed. So what the heck have I been doing?

Well, on top of trying to keep the house up so my brother can stay here while were gone and not think he's staying in a pig sty, I am trying to get laundry done and caught up, sheets changed, towels cleaned, shopping done, and cart kids to Girl Scout Camp, Swim Lessons, Dance Lessons, and Recital Rehearsals. It's been ridiculous.

Then, tonight, the melt down I've been waiting for happened. Quinn finally broke down into a complete nervous mess about the recital tomorrow. She did fantabulous at rehearsal today and I couldn't have been prouder. But, seriously, at this point, it might be the last time I see her on stage. She is so worked up over it, she's trying to throw up. I am playing it cool, telling her how great she did today. We practiced again tonight, she did great! I showed her the video from rehearsal - she did great! She says there is going to be so many people and they are going to laugh at her. No matter what I say, it only adds fuel to her hysterical fire, so I am trying to just get her to sleep Praying and hoping tomorrow's a new day and a better one with her nerves. Truthfully, though, I think my odds are 50% that she will take the stage.

God help us!

My own GPS system

This weekend was really busy and it all ended with our trip to Cape Girardeau (actually Scott City) for the 50th wedding anniversary of Carl's aunt and uncle. It was beautiful reception. Well, let me start with they had a mass, but I didn't make it to that because in the interest of trying to have four kids well behaved at the reception, Carl took the older girls with his parents in their car to the mass while I followed an hour later. The twins napped in the car while I drove to the reception and met the others. It was a good plan for the most part. Unfortunately, an hour and half nap only insured that the twins would be moderately even tempered since they usually take an almost 3 hour nap every day.

Basically, it was a very nice afternoon, but the twins were my own GPS system. If I moved, they hunted me down and when I tried to dance with Carl, they wanted in on the action. We tried to hold them and sort of sway to the music and it didn't work. The babies both wanted me to hold them, which was kind of the theme all evening long. If one wanted up on my lap, they both wanted up. I didn't get to socialize much or even eat dinner since by the time I fed everyone else (with Grandpa and Carl's help), I went through the line and there wasn't anything left. I did get cake.

Before dinner Carl's cousin made a speach and said that the combined total of the wedding party's years of marriage was like 337 years! That's pretty amazing. We were joking at some point this weekend about making 50 years and I said, I'll probably be 10 years past dead at that point. Carl said he would celebrate without me - which was sweet and thoughtful although contradicts our running joke that if I go to our maker ahead of him, he's getting a 20 something bomb shell to replace me. Little does he know that if he goes before me, I think I'll make a great cougar!

Bustin' Out!

It's always crazy around here and now with less than 14 hours to go before William gets his casts cut off, it will undoubtedly get only crazier! I can't wait for him to bust out of those plaster insane asylums. The poor guy has been so good about wearing them and being so patient and tolerant, but I know once he's set free, he'll be a maniac.

This week, he has discovered the Little People due to the fact that he can't really motor around, so he is forced to sit and play. We had a huge tub of the darned toys and I dragged them out late last week for the kids to explore. You'd have thought we got all new stuff! Even the older two were engaged and setting up the town and zoo and castle components. All four of the kids were playing today and they were actually getting along momentarily while creating a fort and who knows what all.

I managed to rearrange the twins' room today due to the fact that they have been playing with the blinds and messing them up and also pulling things off the wall. They are now both against the wall without anything on it and away from the windows. We had stashed the cords to the blinds up high, so that wasn't the danger, but they were playing and looking out the blinds during nap times and not sleeping. It was completely annoying.

From rearranging their room, I went to organizing our swim gear (which you would be surprised, but it literally takes up a whole storage unit), to organizing the toy room (incorporating the Little People), cleaning out the changing table, cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry. I am beat.

I am a little depressed about the toy room. After the garage sale last month, I felt really good about how it looked. Kind of cleaned out and uncluttered. Now that I've had to find homes for the Little People, I'm thinking what else should I purge? It's crazy out of control in there and the more there is, the more they get out and I have to clean up (when I can't talk their older sisters into helping or doing it for me).

What's even more depressing is that I've done a lot of work today and tomorrow, it will all get undone. C'est la vie! I guess it's job security that there is never an end in sight to the work that needs to be done.

Tilt a Whirl

Keeping your life in perspective is easy when you have kids, I think. To them, the center of the universe is, of course, themselves. Me? I'm just a peripheral planet that happens to bask in the light of their sunny rays. I do have the power, though, to tilt their world and set it off it's axis a bit.

It's been 32 hours since we came home from the hospital with William after his surgery and already I've been told that I give William all the attention around here. Someone said that I didn't love the girls as well as him and that I didn't care about them. My three little princesses are having a green eyed fit of montrous proportions. You see, William is the least demanding of all my kids. He just goes with the flow most of the time. His sisters, however, are all equally demanding of my attention and most of the time manage to secure their fair shares.

Now, though, their interplanetary balance has been disrupted because Momma planet is pretty preoccupied with Little Buddy and his comfort level, pain tolerance, and overall entertainment since he can't move in the casts he has to wear. This has meant several outbreaks of uncontrollable sobbing and fits of outrage when I can't immediately tend to my littlest princesses needs. The older princesses have responded by picking on each other and fighting with each other to the point that I HAVE to notice them and devote my attention to them.

It happens and it's for their own good, I say. I didn't realize how ridiculously rotten my girls were until the Buddy had his surgery and I couldn't be their beck and call Mom that holds them together. It's been interesting and a learning experience. I definitely think it's opening their eyes to the fact that someone besides themselves has needs to be met and right now those needs are of the highest priority to me. In a week, this will all be behind us, but for now, the tilt a whirl world we have going on is exhausting.

When You Fix Some Crooked Toes.

This morning we left at 6:45am to get to Childrens' hospital by 7:30 am for check-in. William was having surgery on his fourth and fifth little toes on each foot to correct them. It was a lateral tendon lengthening procedure to straighten them out. We made it on time and then, of course, you sit and wait. We were finally rolling around 9:30 am when they gave him some "Versed" (spelling?) to "calm" and "relax" him. He promptly turned into a loosey goosey goof ball, laughing, singing and flailing without control. It was pretty hilarious.

We walked him to surgery at 9:45 am and then they took him from us at the door to the surgical suite. He was just looking at us all glassy eyed - so cute! At 11:00 am, we got a call that he was going to recovery and that everything had gone well. He would be able for us to see him in about 15 more minutes. We finally went back and he was still asleep. When he woke, he was MAD and then we got to hold him (which I was more than happy to do!). He has two huge blue casts up to his thighs on now, which does make snuggling a little more difficult. The nurses continued to administer pain medication and we were able to leave around 1:00 pm. He then threw up twice on the way home - oh yippee!

The culprit - see how his toes curl. They were like this on both feet.

William and Daddy waiting for surgery!

William right after surgery - still asleep from anesthesia.

Snuggles with Mommy - He is still really out of it!

Take me home! I just want my own bed!

Baby got new shoes.

Picked up William's third pair of inserts for his tennis shoes today. He was such a pickle when we were at the PT's office. He didn't want to cooperate at all. The good thing about getting new inserts is a shopping trip for bigger shoes (my favorite thing to buy!). I am debating on going Monday, which is a day before his surgery, or waiting until after he's out of the casts in a week/10 days. I don't know that it will make that big of a difference.

I should pick up some sandals for the girls while we're at Stride Rite for William too. I try to get one good pair of sandals each summer so that something they're wearing has some support besides flip flops and Crocs. You know how it is - once school starts, getting them into a pair of tennis shoes after being practically bare foot all summer doesn't fly at first. Who likes to put their foot into a confining space after letting it run native all summer long? Not me.

I know that after a visit to Stride Rite, I feel like I've been robbed blind and that we'll have to eat mac n cheese for a month to recover. I have to say, though, in all honesty, their shoes hold up well and we usually get 6 months out of them when we buy our tennies there. It's worth the investment for good shoes, I say.

Take care of your feet, it pays later!

Somebody say wiener?

I used to think that the twins were great eaters. I actually loved eating with other families just to show off how great they were. They didn't balk at much and man, we looked like parents of the year with kids that ate so well. William, in particular, was amazing. He just ate and ate and ate. You can tell, he's a big boy.

Lately, though, ugggghrrr, they've both decided to swear off meat. They won't touch it unless it comes in a processed tube shape and is labeled Jumbo Frank. I can't talk them into a piece of chicken or beef to save my life. They've always been "anti" deli meat, which really limits my lunch selection for them, but at least, I knew they would eat other meat forms. Fish, in the stick shape (if that even counts as meat), still seems to be acceptable, but all other forms of protein are off the menu. Granted, they do like beans, so they get protein like that, but meat - just not happening.

What are you to do? Let them live on the Oscar Meyer palate pleasing wiener? They eat fruit and lots of veggies, maybe they'll be vegans? Maybe they're just going through a weird phase and if I keep giving them meat choices, at some point, I'll wear down their defenses and they'll eat it. I can only hope. Until then, have us to dinner, my kids won't amaze you with their eating abilities, but you'll be sure to save some money on food since they won't be eating their fill (ha ha).

New Pics!

It's been so busy lately with school wrapping up and summer kicking off. I feel like I am running in place and getting no where most of the time. Here are some pics of dresses I made the girls for summer. If you double click the pictures, I think you can tell that they have white pin dots all over the fabric. I'm working on Fourth of July ones in the same patterns. Also, they were coordinated for a BBQ last night in their Red, White & Blue. Finally, my new haircut. It's still an adventure styling it, but I'm getting used to it.

After Church...


Before BBQ

New "Do".

Living the Dream

Just an aside. The other day the older girls were fighting like cats and dogs. Then the twins would start in on each other and inevitably, Hayden bit William in frustrated anger. The whole weekend went on like this until I said to them, "You know I really wanted to have children so that they would fight and be mean to each other. I thought to myself, Kids? Yes, let's do it! They'll fight, scream, kick, hit, talk nasty to each other and I'm going to live for that! It's going to be awesome!" Quinn & Lydia just stood there and looked at me and said, "Really?" I said, "Yep. I'm living the dream!" They laughed and ran off to fight some more.

Rock A Bye Baby

Why is bedtime so trying? Is it just my kids or are all kids this way? By the time bedtime rolls around, I am just beat. I mean how can these little people just suck the life right out of ya? They have some alien powers that just drain your energy level and leave you zapped and like a limp noodle. They also scramble your brains, but that's another blog.

First, I have to wrestle the twins into their PJs and that usually breaks me out in a sweat because it's so physical to change them right now. Then they don't want to climb the stairs under their own power to their beds so they run away from me and laugh their cute little behinds off. When I finally catch one, the other one is high tailing it the other way. Eventually, I just drag one up at a time and toss them into their cribs. Then, I grab the toothbrushes and scrub them down in the crib, mind you, so they can't escape, before flinging an "I love you! Good night!" their way and some kisses and leaving. Then the cries ensue.....

Second, I beg, plead, yell, scream to get the older two in the tub/shower. By the time they're done playing, washing, and fighting with each other, my blood pressure has about bust an artery. We dry off, find PJs that are suitable for the night (and if I pick them out, they are most definitely not suitable), again argue with the brushing of the teeth, and then the bartering begins.

"Mom, can I read you a book?" asks Quinn. "If she gets a book, I get a book too", says Lydia. "Mommy, can I have two books? asks Quinn. "Me too!?" asks Lydia. I take a deep breath and answer, "Yes, Quinn, you can read me a book, but a short one. Yes, Lydia, you can have a book too. No, one book is enough tonight." I would rather read them both the same book and be done with it, but you can't really tell your first grader who's so proud she's learning to read that she can't read to you. It's a sticky situation.

Once they're read to and tucked in, kissed properly, shook up, bounced and all the other gimmicks of a bedtime routine, I shut off the lights and leave. It is a rare night that no one gets up two minutes later for a drink, a lozenge because their throat is itchy, a re-tucking in because they weren't tucked in right the first time, or the "I can't sleep" ploy.

There are days that I think, I should start this whole debacle after dinner so I can actually get them to bed on time. What a concept? It's 6:00 pm and we're bathing to get to bed and asleep by 8:00pm.

I know, I'm whining. I know these days are fleeting. Someday, I'll wish they wanted me to help them go to bed or read books at night. I also know that summer is coming and it's only going to get worse. Brace yourself, the best is yet to come.

Test failed

My brother asked if we had a bed rail that wasn't being used for his soon to be 3 year old daughter who's moving to a "big girl" bed. I told him that Lydia was using one, but that she probably didn't need it anymore. I said we would ask her about it and get back to him.

Lydia was more than happy to get rid of the rail, so last night we took it off as a trial run on being "rail free". At 3:00 am we heard it - the undeniable sound of a child falling out of bed. "THUD!" Then the onslaught of tears and crying which beckons a parent to their room ensued. Carl went forth into the night to save his darling daughter and ended up bringing her to me in bed where she promptly settled in for the rest of the night.

When I woke up in the morning and really looked at her, I was freaking out! Her hand she was sucking on was completely covered in dried blood. Her face had dried blood on it and there were spots on our sheets and on Carl's clothing where he'd carried her. He hadn't noticed in his half awake state that she had really split her lip open when she fell. Apparently, Lydia moved a small chair next to her bed and we didn't realize it, so when she fell, she connected with her mouth on the chair and split it open.

What's more, Lydia didn't mention that she could taste the blood or that it even hurt when she came to bed. I guess she was still asleep some too. Anyways, moral of the story - she's not ready to relinquish the rail so they'll have to buy their own - sorry bro'!

Recent Pictures

Quinn's Recital Costume

Lydia's Recital Costume
Fireman Will
Easter Morning
My Mommy Made This Ridiculous Hat and Made Me Wear It.

What a Weekend?

We had a crazy weekend, but it was all good.

Friday night I went to bunco in my neighborhood and thoroughly enjoyed it. Some of my neighbors paid me the greatest compliment and really, I was just so flattered. They said that if anyone in the neighborhood was to have more kids, it should be me because I'm like "Mother Earth" and just handle being a Mom well and in stride. I don't know about the "Mother Earth" notion, but having other women say that I'm doing a good job is really the epitome of compliments and I guess it could be compared to a peer review at a job. It's one thing when your husband or family says that you're doing a good job, but to have other women, other Moms, say that you're doing well, it's really beyond flippin fantastic. It just felt great. So, thank you to those Moms - you made my weekend.

Saturday we participated in the subdivision garage sale and did well - got rid of a lot of STUFF. The girls had ball games at the same time that Grandpa VH and Grandma H helped me with. That afternoon, we hosted Mother's Day for my Mom and BBQ'd with my brothers and parents. It was really a lot of fun and relaxing. We kicked off the celebration of Lydia's birthday too.

We played Mexican Train dominos - so much fun! Really...I liked it too much. I think it just felt good to do something adult and normal instead of half assed paying attention to something while simultaneously listening or juggling children. I had fun!

Sunday was Lydia's real 4th birthday (which is still hard for me to believe), and Mother's Day. We hosted Carl's Mom and family for brunch which was yummy!

Lydia got a big girl bike for her birthday and loved it. It seems like just recently she has grown up so much and isn't my squishy little toddler anymore. She's a bony, lanky, kid and it stinks! She has definite opinions and sassiness oozing from every pore and spoken word, really! She's something else. I adore her though and really, I couldn't be prouder. Today was so awesome because I got to celebrate one of my kids' birthdays and Mother's day which I wouldn't have without them.

The kicker was we went out for dinner - Steak n Shake (fancy, I know!). The first disaster was Lydia dropped her water and the glass shattered under the table. Nobody came to help clean it up, so Quinn and she had to sit with their feet up out of the mess. Then the waitress comes and we tell her what happened - still no clean up. Then the food took so long to come that the twins were jumping out of their skin by the time we ate and William began to yell (loudly) to either pass the time, or just be a boy, or who knows!? It was pretty loud (we tried to shush him) and at a nearby table, two men were eating and the one looked at us and shook his head (like he's eating at Tony's). I just wanted to freakin' get up and give him a piece of my mind (but I didn't). I mean - really. At this point, we were actually getting ready to go and Will was unruly. His lack of ability to communicate with words leads him to effectively, if annoyingly, communicate by yelling and he was definitely saying, "I'm ready to leave".

What I would have said, had I the nerve, to the head shaker was, "Sir, I'm sorry we disturbed your meal. I can see that you're not sitting with your Mother or wife, so I'm sorry for your losses. I know that my son was being unruly, but he's not even 2 and we should have been out of here before you even sat down, but the service was slow and our meal took forever while they actually killed the cow out back that made our steak burgers. I just want you to know though, that while your ears were assaulted by my son's cries, my eyes were assaulted by the four inch butt crack hanging out of your pants that I tried to avoid looking at while I ate my Mother's Day dinner that my family was so kind to take me out for because as you can see, I have four beautiful children. Have a nice day. Oh, and by the way, it's my 4 year old's birthday and she had to look at your ass too!"

I need to work on my people skills...don't ya think?

Happy Mother's Day!

Joined the Gym

First of all, in my last blog, I said, "My therapist", really it's William's Physcial Therapist.

Now for the reason I'm writing. I re-joined Riverchase yesterday and it was a bittersweet transaction. I know I should take advantage of it and GO, but just starting off is so hard. Why is that!? I know that once I get in a routine and go, it's a great break for me and I love it, but the first two weeks of just getting there are daunting.

The kids are thrilled to be members again so that we can swim this summer. Swimming presents a whole other ball of waxy issues that I avoid every year. Unfortunately they are all entangled with the first issue of exercise. It's a viscious cycle. If you work out, you can find a swimming suit that fits and that you feel good in. If you don't work out and lose weight, you can't find a swimming suit that is flattering to save your life. At least, that's been my twisted thought process.

I hate swim suits. Not only to they expose everything I try so hard to cover up all winter, but they are EXPENSIVE. The ones with all the bells and whistles and super sucking power to hold you together are $70 per piece (Top & Bottom). In the end, I toss it all in and say, who cares? Obviously, I'm at the pool with four kids so people know my body has been ravaged by at least 27 months of pregnancy and a combined 37 plus pounds of babies.

Ah, the joys of summer!

What's up with Us!

Several things.....

1) My therapist made note today that the babies are 22 months old! I was shocked. I mean, I usually keep track of that stuff, but this had completely caught me by surprise. When did that happen!?

2) I have a ton of pictures to post, but will probably never have enough time to do it. Sorry! Hopefully soon.

3) I gave Hayden a haircut today and it was a doozy! She now has bangs (sort of) and it's SHORT, SHORT, SHORT in the back. She was so straggly and it was all baby hair, so I chopped it off. Now, it looks like I have twin boys, instead of a girl and boy, though - it's that chopped. Have to bust out the major pink outfits until it grows back - oh well, should be cooler. : )

4) I love this time of year, but I hate how the end of the school year stresses eveyone out. There is soo much to remember and do. Teacher gifts, class parties, practices start for tball and coach pitch softball, games on top of practices, recital information, recital costume fittings, Mother's Day, birthdays, and the list goes on and on. It gets so out of control.

5) I'm a little stressed that I have too much scheduled for Quinn this summer. She wanted to do so much and I'm afraid once we get going, she'll wanna quit everything.

6) Signed Lydia up for soccer on Sunday, but not Quinn. I think she's hanging up her cleats at the young age of 7. Let's hope Lydia is my soccer player - and if not, I still have two more to put through their paces in cleats and shin guards.

7) Trying to get organized for the garage sale this weekend, anticipating a week of very late nights with everything we have going on this weekend.

8) William said "Ma Ma" today and I was so excited. Melted my heart!

Want Some Cheese With That Whine?

I'm tired, my feet hurt, and I'm going to whine a little. Here goes.... (this is a little long winded, sorry).

It drives me completely up a wall when people volunteer to do something and then aren't responsible or organized about it. I mean, really, why did you ask for this if you're not going to follow through!

Lydia and Quinn are playing T-ball and Coach Pitch softball this season. Lydia's coach is a friend of ours and is awesome. I think he's crazy for volunteering to coach, but he's great. Of course, we went to practice and were completely confused at the park about where to be so after unloading all the kids, I had to re-load and relocate for the first practice tonight at 5:45.

Quinn's team is another story. We had to track her coach down yesterday to ask if they were even going to practice or get together before the first game on Saturday (yes, this Saturday!). He said, when Carl called last night, that he was in class, but his wife should have called everyone. That was at 7:00pm. At 8:30, the phone rings. Guess who? The wife. We have practice tomorrow, she said, and our team is the Teal Tornadoes. Meet at "area 1" at 6:30pm.

I drag everyone through the uncut forest of a field to Lydia's practice (which we were late to because of the wrong location) probably grabbing a million chiggers on the way to eat the heck out of the babies and then we have to leave early to go to Quinn's practice. We recross the densely infested terrain again to the car 1/4 a mile away and cross back over the entire park to "area 1" (sounds like a secret government alien operation). Once we get to "area 1", there are two teams practicing, one of which is named the Teal Tornadoes, but they're three years old, not 7, like Quinn - oh! and they're all boys. By now, she's freaking out. She figures she's the only girl on a team of three year old boys (understandably so).

Shortly, thereafter, a few other parents show up looking for the Teal Tornadoes, like us, and no dice. 6:30 goes by. 6:45 goes by. 7:00 is here and a guy comes running through the field and says, oh, we're not going to be at "area 1", we're at "area 3". So, he says we have to go all the way across the park, again, and parking is limited due to the softball games going on, so we would probably want to WALK!

SO, we walk all the way over there and they practice - finally. There's a playground there too, so the three little ones are running around there, while I'm a wild eyed crazy person, trying to keep up. I'm also simultaneously trying to give the proper encouragement with hand gestures (thumbs up, waves, claps) to Quinn who's doing her thing on the grassy knoll below the playground. If you don't act like you're paying attention to practice she gets upset that I "never" watch her, I only watch Lydia and I "never" - well, you know how it is. I kept having heart attacks when I couldn't see Lydia in a tunnel or slide because I was sure someone was going to walk off with her and the babies just had to keep going by the open side of the elevated platform to the toddler slide. I could just see a broken arm in my future when they fell. I even had a plan in my head for an emergency. If someone breaks something, the car is 1/2 a mile away, I'm just calling 911 - it will be easier than getting everyone in the car and to the hospital!

The coach calls it a night at 7:50 and I was about to collapse. But, no, we have to walk through the marshy underbrush, take our lives into our hands across suicide alley (the parking lots) to get to the van. The kids were beat, I was beat, and I thought - let's do it all again - next week!

I wonder if alcohol is allowed in the park - I may need reinforcements (and a ride home. Any takers?).

Just kidding..... : )

Crazy Cry Room Mama

I had very optimistic intentions about how my Sunday morning would go today. Carl was going to a swap meet (car stuff) and I had the kids all to myself and we were going to go to church. I hate for Lydia to miss her Jesus and Me class since there's only one or two left and Quinn should go to the Childrens' Liturgy. I figured we would hunker down in the cry room with the twins and when it came time for eucharist, I would just not go up.

Taking the twins to communion would be way more than anybody would expect of me. One would be falling and flailing and the other would be screaming, I just knew it. So, I had a plan, I just needed to put it into action.

I should have quit while I was ahead, really. The older girls managed to get themselves dressed with little fuss. The twins, however, were absolutely unruly. They didn't want their diaper changed. They didn't want to wear clothes. They didn't want shoes on and they definitely, did not want to comb their hair. By the time they were all ready and I was still in my PJS, I was a hot mess.

I hurried and got ready, while tossing a threat out that if anybody cried, struck one another, or misbehaved while I was upstairs, they would not see the light of day for a long time to come.

When I got downstairs among other things, Hayden was climbing on the kitchen stools and then proceeded to pull a glass of water down the cabinets and herself. I let loose with an expletive that was not too Christian and proceeded to unload on the lot of them, starting with poor Quinn. She was really not that deserving of my wrath, but I had reached the breaking point.

At this moment, they were all dressed, looked presentable, and we had 10 minutes to leave. I thought, why am I doing this to myself? I have already yelled, screamed, and threatened the four of them within an inch of their life and now I want to go to Church? What am I crazy? Aw, what the hell!

I apologized to them in the car because really, that was not how I imagined our morning starting off. I also did not want to be going to church where I find sanctuary and relief with all the pent up stress and anger from home following me.

Mass went as well as can be expected. The twins were all consuming, busy, noisy, and wiggly, but so be it. I took it as a sign that maybe we were not as good as I thought, though, when everyone went to communion in the cry room, and no one came back. Oh well, it is a cry room! People, what do you want?

By the time we got home, everyone was tired, hungry, and done in. I thought, this is not what I pictured when I thought I would take everyone to church. Oh well, lesson learned. I'm sure the kids' angels were watching over them to keep me at bay and if St. Pete is taking attendance, I should get two marks for even showing up today!

Happy Earth Day

Go enjoy the beautiful day - clear skies, clean air, fresh water. I hear it won't be like this for long, so go enjoy today! That's what I feel like telling my kids. Hurry, it's nice out - the glaciers are melting, so rush and soak up some sun before the great floods begin. Hurry, the ozone is deteriorating, put on more sunblock. Hurry, hurry, hurry. I'm doing the best I can to do my part, but in this day and age, it's never enough.

The other day, Quinn saw some trash on the highway and said, "Some litterbug left a mess." and I said, "yep, not everyone cares about where they live, like we do". Why not? I don't know, "why not?"

Because.

Tombstones

My goal in life used to be to have a tombstone that people all over wanted to come and read or visit (you know, like Elvis). I know, it was a lofty goal. I don't know if I thought I was going to be a famous musician or a historic figure, but I felt destined for greatness. I still, sometimes, feel like I was meant for....more.

It's a hard thing to explain and I feel selfish even trying. I feel like I should be saying that my only goal in life, my purpose on earth, is to raise my children and they are the treasures of my world. I feel like I should say, my greatest accomplishment in life, are my children. What I want to say, is of course, I love my children, want the best possible life for them, and do feel they are one of my greatest triumphs, but they are not the only purpose to my life.

Am I abnormal thinking these thoughts? Am I the only one who is in the midst of their life and is thinking, "I always thought I would be more"? It is very frustrating. I wish I was more content. I wish I was more "June Cleaver". I doubt June had these dilemmas. I guess, I feel a little impatient. I feel like the world is racing by me and I'm getting a little left behind. It is so hard to know rationally that you are in the best place at this exact moment in time for your family and yourself, but to feel like you're missing out on something.

I was raised into the dichotomy of a womans' world; acquire an amazing education, possess a great job, make money, and on the other side, be a wife and a Mom, stay at home, sacrifice for your family. I almost wonder if I should spare my daughters this struggle and just teach them to be June Cleaver - simpler is better. Lower expectations leads to less disatisfaction. If you don't know what you're missing, you can't miss it.

Bear with me people - of course, I would never do that. It just presents and interesting question. I sometimes wish I had lower expectations of myself so that I could find greater contentment in my daily life. I, however, don't have that luxury, so I will continue to struggle with this identity crisis, possibly forever. I have a feeling, I will not be one of those people who, on their deathbed, can say "I can go now, I'm content with my life - I've done what I set out to do." I intend to go kicking and screaming, so I know that will not be me. Maybe my tombstone will read, "She left with her boots on to continue kicking some ass". I can only hope.

She, She, She, She....

An excerpt from this evening, 5:00 pm - 5:45 pm:

MOOOOMMMM! She poked me with the sunglasses! MOOOOOOOM! She stuck her tongue out at me! She took my computer! She touched me! She is looking at me! She hit me! She stepped on me! She rolled her eyes at me! She kicked me under the table! She took my french fry! She drank my milk! She made a face at me! She's in my room! She said I look ugly! She said I'm little! She said I'm big! She said I'm weird! She told me to leave! MOOOOOOM! I don't like her!

Lord, give me the patience to referree, the wisdom to stay out of it when warranted, and the strength to go the distance since they're only 7 and 3. Can't wait until their 12 and 8!

"Yucks" x 4 = Hungry Kids

Last night I got crazy and decided to mix up the dinner time fare a little. My kids are pretty routinized - canned corn, canned green beans ( I Know, shame on me!), chicken, beef, pretty ordinary. So, I went online and got a recipe which looked and sounded yummy for chicken. I roasted some sweet potatoes, mushrooms (for me!), and cauliflower in the oven. I made the chicken with italian bread crumbs in a mushroom sauce with mozzerella cheese melted on top and a side of rice.

I carefully put each plate together and it looked so flavorful and enticing. Then I called everyone to the table and sat down. First Quinn sat and looked at her plate and said, "yuck". She pushed her plate to the middle of the table. Then Lydia sat and saw Quinn's reaction, so then she did the same. Will and Hayden followed suit. So, I sat, alone, eating my wonderful concoction (and it was good!).

Eventually, Quinn caved and ate the chicken and rice. William ate everyone's cauliflower and Hayden ate rice. Lydia ate nothing. I enjoyed the entire meal.

I told them that I was trying to introduce some new things and that they needed to try everything. A bunch of "yucks" ensued after every bite. Oh well. They didn't get anything else. Dinner is dinner. If you don't like it, I'm not a short order cook.

They say it takes 6-8 times of introducing a new flavor to a baby for them to decide if they like it or now. I'll keep trying! Until then - bon appetit!

To be sick, or not to be sick? That is the question.

Quinn decided that her ear was hurting this morning after I had cleaned it out with a q-tip (very sparingly) last night and there was a bunch of gunk that came out (I know, pretty picture!). She was acting perfectly fine and no temperature or anything. I kind of figured it was a post Easter sugar buzz let down and she didn't want to go to school. I told her I would call the doctor and we'd go in. She agreed that would be fine. While we ate breakfast, I informed her that since we were already going to the doctor, we should make up the chicken pox vaccine that she refused to get at her 7 year appointment last month. I told her if she had an ear infection, I wouldn't make her get it, but if she was fine, she was going to get it. She was not too happy but since she had already set the wheels for her charade in motion, she didn't balk. I think at that point School was sounding like the better deal.

I asked if she was going to buy at school or bring her lunch if she ended up being well enough to go and she wanted to bring. I made the lunch, loaded up the van and took everyone to the pediatrician for the aching ear. OF course, the doctor was running behind, so the five of us were cooped up in the 9 by 9 cell of an exam room for 20 minutes. Needless to say, it was like a bunch of caged animals. I ended up digging through my purse and finding some smarties in the bottom that I doled out just to keep them busy.

Finally, the doctor came in and looked in Quinn's ears. They were fine - which meant, bring in that SHOT! Quinn instantly began flipping out (poor thing) and I had to hold her tightly to get it done, but it got done. Then we got a note for school and headed over. I dropped her off and gave her a kiss and that was that.

Somehow, I don't think she'll be pretending to be sick in the future. Who knows what random vaccines will pop up that we missed (he he he )?

Hop Hop Hoppy Easter

Went to Easter Vigil. Very moving mass. Four people were baptized and I'm not kidding you, they fully submersed themselves. All I could think was you get a better deal as a baby! LOL. Anyways.

After hopping all over the house hiding eggs, I'm pretty tired. So have a Hoppy Blessed Easter and if you're reading this on Easter - shame on you! Go hug a kid or kiss a relative! Going to put my long ears and tired cotton- tail away for another year and myself, to bed!

Why?

Taking a 7 year old to Good Friday mass was interesting tonight. She constantly fired questions at me the entire time. "Why is there red everywhere?" "What is the cross for?" "Why did they break their legs?" "Why did they pierce Jesus?" "Why?" "Why?" "Why?". It was a good experience.

I have never been one to really get the veneration of the cross. It made me uncomfortable. But tonight, it was different. I don't know why, it just was. I don't know if Quinn being there made it more important or powerful, but it was. I watched people approach, prostrate themselves, kiss the wood, and leave. Each person, with their own worries and their own suffering in their world.

An elderly gentleman escorted his wife to the cross. He bowed, kissed the wood and it was like he was kissing the face of Jesus himself. He paused and with such reverence, paid homage to the instrument of our salvation. It was something to see.

Enough about this, I could go on and on (and I know, sometimes I do!).