Mom to the Screaming Masses

Snapshots of the day

Several vingettes from today:

Gabe, on hearing that I was taking the kids to dinner: "Yahoo, we never go anywhere!"

Gabe: "Help me write this letter to my teachers - Jesus is all around us, even in the rivers and lakes."  Of course it's true, but ????

The waitress at the restaurant: "Whoa.  They're all yours?"  No.  I borrow spare kids for dinner all the time.

The excitement on Mackenzie's face when she came running out of school with her bag of Christmas gifts for the family, from shopping at the school bazaar. 

The giggles from Emma when I rubbed her lotion on after her bath.

The pleasure that I received from watching my kids all sit quietly at the restaurant, eating their dinner with (relatively) good manners.

The vision of Riley, walking her way down the bench, holding on to the back, and dropping right off the end.

My kid's faces when a package came, and their faces again when I told them that it was diapers for the girls. 

The sight of the Hubster, vacuuming the concrete outside, after the construction workers left for the day.  To get rid of the wood shavings.  It must be a man thing, because I just do.not.get.it.

The woman, singing along with the music, in the bathroom stall.  An out of tune version of "It's raining men".  Um, yeah.

Feeling,in my flared jeans, hoodie sweatshirt, and cool boots, that I was lookin' fiiiiiine.  Then seeing myself in the mirror.  (Ouch.)

The stack of finished Christmas cards, ready to be mailed as soon as I get some dumb stamps.

Flipping the calendar to December.  Holy toledo, it's almost been another year!

Picture, picture, who's got the picture?

Tell me that this picture doesn't just scream Christmas spirit....

And, it only took 34 shots to get one this good!

Photo albums

I put some photos in albums on the sidebar.  Most of them you have seen, but a few may be new.  I thought it'd be easier to see each kid alone.

If you click on the album, and then pick one picture to click on, it will make the picture big enough to see.  I'm certain you guys already know how to do that, but just in case.

I have an idea

I'm not certain if it's a good one, so I'm relying on youse guys to enlighten me, 'kay?

I was thinking about contacting some of the big parenting magazines - Parents, Parenting, Child - to offer a four part series on organization.  Something along the lines of organizing your home when the baby comes along, then when you have a new baby and preschooler, and then when your kids enter school, that type of thing. Do you think it's a good idea, or something I should sit on for a while?

I've got the 2005 Writer's Guide, so it would give me the details on how to contact them. 

But, would you read it?

Thanks Giving

I'm totally on board for Thanksgiving.  Here is my list, in no particular order, of my thanks:

- for the health of my six children.  Since starting with the allergist, we've only had one ER visit.  ONE.  As opposed to FIVE last year.

- the Internet, my blog, my OHM friends, and email.  I love my online time, and I was especially heartened when I closed my blog and had *50* people request the link to the new one.  I had no idea!

- Starbucks, and the crew there, who know what I want as soon as I walk in the door/pull up to the drivethru, and get my coffee right 98% of the time.

- my house, which keeps us all warm and dry.  My shower.

- the room addition we are putting on - it will afford us another bedroom for the babies, and a playroom. 

-  a husband who: works insane hours so I can stay home with the kids, gives me the things that I want (usually), is devoted to doing the right thing, keeps me grounded in prayer (even when I don't want to!), is generous with his compliments wrt my cooking, and laughs at my jokes.

- my van, which is big enough for the family, and my stuff.

- noggin and nickelodeon, and PBS.  I love me some children's programming that gives me peace!

- the ability to go to the grocery store any time I want, and get the things I feel that we need.  So many people don't have that luxury.

- my new sewing machine.

- the fact that I have a good relationship with my father and his wife, and with my own mother as well.  The fact that my step daughter, the one who was such a thorn in my side 10 years ago, had grown up well.  She even sent me a birthday gift!

- Nikolas, who is finding his way through the preteen years, and plays a mean trumpet.

- Allegra, who can be incredibly mean in one minute, and sweet as pie the next.

- Mackenzie, who has more energy than I've ever seen.

- Gabriel, who is doing well in his first year of preschool.

- Emma, who is really developing a personality.

- Riley, who seems to be following Mackenzie in her energy level.

- chocolate.

- jeans that fit.

And much more, but I'm drawing a blank right now.

Adventures in painting

One of the things that we had on our list of "Things to do while The Hubster is on vacation" was to paint our front room.  The color is listed as Stone Crab, which is the stupidest name that I've ever seen.  It was a muted gray green, a color seen in Pottery Barn.  I am alllll about Pottery Barn - especially since my house is decorated in Early Childhood.  I can dream about Pottery Barn, though, and at least if I have the wall color, I can pretend that the rest will follow. 

My, can I go on a tangent, or what?

The Hubster vowed that the room would be painted before he returned to work on Friday.  Monday was *the* day.  I woke early, and went downstairs to remove the pictures from the walls, push the sofas into the center, and generally prep the room.  I am not allowed to paint, because I am sloppy  in a rush not as good not as detail oriented as he is.  He hates it when I paint - it gives him angina or something.  Whatever.  I paint well, but not as good as he does.  I went out for the day with the babies - that was our agreement.  I'd leave him to paint in peace. 

There is a piano in that room.  It probably weighs close to 800 pounds.  It took four moving men to move it the last time, so I had my doubts as to how he was going to paint.  I just left him to his devices, however, and went out.  The babies and I had a great time - we went to Target, we went to the grocery.  We went to the doctors for asthma, the pharmacy for medication, etc. etc.  We were busy busy.  (HA!  I just typed busty by mistake!!!  Freud, much?)

I came back, and the room was almost all the way trimmed out.  A quick detour to the hardware store for new rollers, and the painting of the room commenced. The piano had, by some super human strength, been pushed to the center of the room.  The hubster bragged that it was his amazing muscle power.  We both laughed, and agreed that the movers had not been paid nearly enough to move it. 

The painting was finished, and we went to bed.  When I got up the next morning, the furniture had been put back where it belonged - even the piano.  A quick check verified that the Hubster, indeed, still had his nuts - I was a bit worried by all the piano moving, but the boys were still in town.

Later that day, he hung the pictures.  The piano had been moved to another wall, so he decided that he wanted to put different pictures up above it as well.  Ok, fine.  Your perogative.  Except that, after hanging the pictures, he wasn't certain that they were centered above the piano.  So, he moved the piano.  Instead of the pictures.  Not once, but twice.  Then, he discovered that he had moved the piano too far, and had to move it back.  He moved it so far, he pinned himself between the piano and the bookshelf.  I was of no help, as I was on the floor, laughing my ass off and wetting my pants.  I told him I'd just leave him there, and a few days of no food, he'd be able to slip right out. He was not amused.  He slid out, and stepped back to check the alignment of the planets  pictures.

And then, he had to move it AGAIN, as the picture was now too far too the right.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  The baby learned many new curse words yesterday.  Well, not that many - she probably heard them already.  Not from me, of course - she must have learned them from, um, the grocery store cleark.  Yeah, that's it. 

Next time, I bet he'll move the freakin' pictures, instead of the piano!

Adminstrative note

May I just say how much I am loving typepad?  Love it!  I can be pleased, though, by the little things.  The ability to strike through, the emails when I have a new comment, the ease of posting.  The lack of HTML knowledge needed.  I'm so glad I switched.  I think I'll remove the password in a week or two.  Maybe I'll do a photo album.  Any interest in that?

A pleasant time was had by all

Yesterday, I went to Starbucks.  (Yeah, I know.  I go there every day.  I promise, though, there is a story here. Pinky promise.)

So, I was standing in line to get my daily white chocolate mocha, kind of staring into space and enjoying the freedom alloted to me, by going without children.  And did I mention that I was by myself?  Just in case I forgot to say.  There was a young girl there, probably 17 or so.  Nose pierced, cropped top with the hip huggers, obligatory roll of belly fat protruding.  Black eyeliner, the whole deal.  She was just standing by the register, hanging out.  I overheard one of the baristas (coffee makers, for those of you not in tune with the Starbucks speak - never say anything plain when a big ol' word will do!) explaining that she was a bit short and her friend went to the car to get some more money.  I paid with my handy dandy Starbucks prepaid card - gotta love those, it *almost* feels like the coffee is free - and moved down to wait for my bliss to be served.  The friend came in, and her expression said it all.  She had no more money.  They stood there for a second, in that panic that teens will have, when they are confronted with a situation that they can't quite figure out.  A lady stepped forward, and asked how much they were short.  $1.12.  She handed her card to the barista, and told her to cover the difference in the girls drinks.  Shock was seen on the faces of all present, as if something like that had never happened.  It probably hadn't - how often have you seen something like that take place? The girls were effusive with their thanks.  Over and over the lady was thanked. She shrugged it off.  It was really no big deal to her, but the baristas made it so.  They kept talking about it, even after she left.

Yeah, it was me.  I felt sorry for the girls. They reminded me a bit of my niece, and maybe of myself. I've been short a time or two.  It's embarrassing. The Hubster said he would have told them to buy their coffee at 7-11 the next time.  To me, it was a good thing that I could do.  I don't really get the opportunity to do many things that leave a good feeling behind.  (Well, yeah, changing a diaper usually leaves a good feeling. Especiallly ON the behind. But not like this.)

So, here's my challenge to you.  Do something that makes you feel good for another person.  Kind of like a "pass it forward" deal.  Remember that movie?

Post what you did in the comments section.  Maybe we can pass some good around, instead of a bunch of negative.

The sounds of silence

I don't know about you, but I have the HARDEST time being still.  I am usually doing two or three things at once.  I read something in the newspaper the other day that really resonated with me, though. When asked by an acquaintance how she was, the author replied, "Busy!".  To which the friend answered, "Aren't we all."  Which got the author to thinking.  Yes, we are all busy. But does being busy make us more important?

Ouch.  That really got me, right where it counts.  I am busy.  No, I am really BUSY.  That is my life, of course.  Sometimes, though, I do come across as too busy to pay attention, almost as if something is beneath me.  After all, I'm so busy.  I can't do x, or y or z.  I don't have time for that - I've got my own things to do.  I find myself telling others exactly how much I have to do - and it's as if I am trying to impress upon them how important I am.

I wonder how many people I've alienated by being too busy?  How many have reached out to me, for conversation, or comfort, and I have been unreachable?

The other evening, the Hubster wanted to pray the Rosary.  Ok, fine.  Fifteen minutes, I can do that.  He wanted, however, to do the Rosary with Mother Angelica, a sweet old nun on EWTN - the Catholic channel.  Well, she's had a stroke, and is veddy veddy slllloooowww.  Her rosary takes a full 30 minutes.  I *hate* to do it.  It's so slow. I did it, though, and I did the entire thing.  Even when the Hubster went to sleep, 5 minutes in.  I felt like I needed the time to sit and only do one thing - to slow down and pay attention.

I've started, on the extremely rare occasions that I am alone in the car, keeping the radio off.  Consciously being quiet, and still. 

I need to do this, I think.  I need to be less involved in me, and more in my surroundings.

What do you do for quiet?

Water

I have been feeling guilty about lots of stuff lately.  How much we buy, how much we waste.  How much garbage we put out in a week - even though we do put out a lot of recycling as well, it still seems like too much garbage.  I'm trying to be conscious of waste, but, man, it's so hard!

Our water heater is in our attic.  I've never seen one above the house - infact, it seems like the stupidest place in the world to put a water heater - what if it leaks? Our shower, in the master bath, takes a long time to heat up.  Two minutes, in fact - we timed it one day.  It doesn't make sense, because the water heater is directly above it.  We had a plumber look, and he said that the water goes from the heater, down pipes that are under the house and then back up to the bathroom.  A situation obviously planned by a drunk.

I watched an episode of Oprah once, and it really made a huge impact on me.  She was speaking about women in Africa who have to walk for miles and miles to get water, and carry it back on their heads, careful not to spill a drop.  Seeing this made Oprah more aware than ever not to be wasteful of water. Not to let the water run when she was brushing her teeth or washing her face, that type of thing.

I mentioned this to the Hubster one day, while we were waiting for the hot water to arrive, I guess by Federal Express.  Or pony express - it takes so long.  I said that I was really feeling guilty about our use of water, and I wished that the water was warm quicker, so we didn't waste so much.  He had a great idea, he said.

"Why don't you get in, and take a shower now, while waiting for it to warm up? Then you don't have to waste it!"

Gee, thanks.