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Today Denver decided to take one of the biggest wooden blocks we have–which is about two feet long–and throw it at Hunter’s head. So. . . Denver got his first time out. Taking pictures of your kids while they’re being punished probably isn’t reccommended by professional parents but. . . he looked so darn cute, sitting there on the stairs in “time out.”

Today our Home Teacher made another one of his surprise visits. Last time he came the house was in shambles, the kids were eating lunch and had soup spilled all down their fronts, and I hadn’t had a shower for two days. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Today–the house, the kids and myself were in better shape, although I’ve been having one of those weeks when no matter how much junk food I eat, I just can’t drown out the negative forces within. So, we were sitting on the couch playing Gamecube eating beef jerky and ice cream and goldfish. Not one of my shining moments as a mother–video games and junk food. Way to encourage healthy lifestyles in my children. But anyway, he showed up and I felt so embarassed that I wasn’t sitting at the table doing a craft with the kids or baking bread or quilting or something productive and mormonish. And he just laughed and said, “Are you kidding? I wish my mom had done that with me!” That made me feel so good. You know, I feel so bad all the time because I just don’t do the crafty, creative things that I see so many other moms doing with their kids. I just play with them and shout at them and snug them and put them in time out and feel like I’ve done something really great if I get out the playdough or crayons once a month. It just made me feel good, that even at my worst, somebody thought I was doing something worthwhile.

And Chris, this is for you. You know when someone asks you if everyone is healthy and you know if you say “yes” you are jinxing yourself and someone in your family is destined to come down with some terrible sickness? Well, today Chris asked if anyone had thrown up yet and I hesitated, just knowing that if I said “no” somebody would surely throw up. Well, I put Noah and Denver in the bath after dinner (which by the way, was provided by our home teacher–he brought us Boston Market!!!). They were playing around, having a great time. And then, Denver choked on some water. And he’s coughing and barking the way you do when you inhale too much water at the pool. And Noah’s freaking out because he’s sure Denver’s gonna barf. And I’m telling Noah to calm down that he’s just choking on some water and he’s not gonna barf. And Noah’s screaming louder and Denver’s coughing harder and then. . .BARF! Poor Noah just about passed out. It was only a little upchuck–but that was the end of it for Noah and probably will be for a very long time. It’s becoming a daily ritual–throwing up. Someone’s gotta do it or I just don’t feel complete anymore. Until tomorrow. . . .

Last night on our way home from the train station, Hunter threw up. Mark searched desperately for something for Hunter to throw up in while I drove (okay, sped) through the neighborhood, yelling at Noah to not throw up and stick his nose out the window so he wouldn’t smell it. Why is it that the one week I don’t blog, nobody gets sick? And then, when I’m ready to hit the keyboard again. . . BARF!!! Anyway, as I pulled Hunter from the slimey mess he asked, “Did you ever have a little boy throwing up in a car before?” And I can’t say that I have. I do remember when Nate barfed on the way home from the zoo and it smelled and looked like popcorn. I think it was Nate–could have been Joe or Mel. No wait–Hunter’s done this before, but luckily, that time I had some tupperware handy and caught it all! Hurray for Mom! Anyway, the fun continues at our house. I even ate throw up yesterday. It was just one of those kinds of days. And the amazing thing is, I held it down. I should be on Survivor–I mean, if you can hold down someone else’s vomit, what can’t you stomach?

The weather is looking gray and blah for the next 5 days. So, I’m feeling kinda gray and blah. I need to live somewhere a little bit sunnier. I think I have seasonal depression. I need my fresh air and sunshine. I need to be able to go to parks and have picnics and swimming pool parties and popsicles and beaches and lightning bugs and hammocks. This rainy, cold, stay indoors stuff doesn’t work for me. I can only make so many batches of cookies and couch creations before I just want to scream–”get me outta here!” Oh Spring–where are you?

And the cherry on top was a migraine headace Sunday night! I haven’t had a migraine since I was thirteen years old. Anyway, everyone is getting better, slowly. Whatever we got was one nasty cold and I won’t miss it one bit.

This weekend the kids said and did a bunch of cute things. Just thought I’d share a few. For those of you that know Noah at all, he loves corn. Absolutely loves the stuff. When he was little, he called it “porn.” One oday when we were at the grocery store, he saw a display of canned corn on sale. He immediately started shouting, “Porn! Porn! I want porn!” Since then he’s learned to call it corn, thank goodness. Saturday night he went grocery shopping with me and I picked up some frozen corn-on-the- cob to go with our chicken and dumplings. When Noah saw it he got all excited and asked if we were gonna eat that “corn on the hunk!” He loved every bite.

You might not find this next story very funny, but I couldn’t stop laughing when this happened. I’m so mean. Noah was in bed with us Friday night, watching TV. Eventually he started dosing off and as he fell asleep, his body jerked–you know, when you get that falling feeling just as you fall asleep. Anyway, when his body jerked, his hand flew up and hit him in the face. He woke up and looked at me (like I had just punched him in the eye) and said, “Ow!” He was so confused. I guess I would be too if I had just fallen asleep and gotten punched in the eye by my mother.

Sunday morning I was working on Mark’s computer trying to mark all the pictures he’s got that I want. Denver was sitting next to me, watching all the pictures and trying to push the buttons. I got sidetracked for a minute, just long enough for Denver to hit the power button and shut everything down. In frustration I looked at Denver and said, “DENVER. . . .” He then looked up at me, with the most guilty look on his face and said, “Mommy. . . .what?” Ohhhhhh, he’s so darn cute.

Friday afternoon, Hunter and I were playing out in the snow when a lady pulled up and asked if she could take some pictures of us building our snowman. She was with “The Citizen” and the “Connecticut Post.” I said sure and continued working on my fort that I was building next to the snowman I had already built. Hunter was working on cutting targets into the snowman, so he would have something to aim for when he started throwing snowballs. Well, Hunter cut a little too deep which caused the snowman to come toppling down onto my head. Ugh! The lady wanted to keep taking pictures so I did my best to try and save the poor snowman. And, Hunter continued to chop into the snowman. I asked Hunter what he was doing and he said, “Cutting away parts.” And I said, “What parts need cut away?” And he said, “The part I just cut did.” He’s such a smartie pants.

Hope that made you smile as much as it did me.

Last night, on my way to pick Mark up from the train, I had this major urge to go dancing. I really, really wanted to go swing dancing and have someone (Mark) twirl me around and around to loud country music. I also wanted Chinese food. Well, I got the Chinese food but I didn’t get the dancing. Instead, I tucked Hunter in bed with another chapter of “Charlie’s Monument.” Then, the real fun began. Denver’s pretty sick. Honestly, I won’t be surprised if we end up in the hospital again next weekend. It’s just one of those colds I can see going really wrong. He has an ear infection but he just seems more miserable than that. Anyway, as a result of him not feeling so good, he gets upset very easily. And when he gets upset, he cries uncontrollably and because he’s so mucousy, he usually ends up, you guessed it. . .throwing up. Now, Noah is a little sensitive to barfing and spent all day yesterday warning me that “Denver is gonna throw up” eveytime Denver seemed the least bit upset. Well, Noah’s worst nightmares were realized last night. I was in high demand and both boys wanted me to hold them. It was sort of like Mark was invisible and I was the only adult available for giving attention. I was holding Noah and that made Denver very upset. He began crying uncontrollably and was trying to climb up onto my lap. Just as I lifted him up. . .BARF! This time it wasn’t just a little gag. It was the full on mother load! To make a long story short, Mark and I ended up falling asleep on the couch, Noah on my lap. The sink was overflowing with dishes, the floor covered in chinese food Denver threw everywhere. I don’t think there was a single room that was really safe to walk in. I coughed all night and Hunter was up with an earache. You know, yesterday at the doctor’s office I asked them to check Noah’s ear because I “didn’t want to come back on Saturday.” But I didn’t ask him to check Hunter’s ears. Why? Why is this happening to me? I had to shovel another 4 inches of very heavy snow yesterday and we aren’t gonna reach 50 degrees this next week. Hunter wanted to watch t.v. yesterday instead of playing with me in the snow. Everyone’s sick and I think I’m going a little bit crazy.

God

Before He sent His children to earth

Gave each of them

A very carefully selected package of problems.

These,

He promised, smiling,

Are yours alone. No one

Else may have the blessings

These problems will bring you.

And only you

Have the special talents and abilities

That will be needed

To make these problems

Your servants.

Now go down to your birth

And to your forgetfulness. Know that

I love you beyond measure.

These problems that I give you

Are a symbol of that love.

The monument you make of your life

With the help of your problems

Will be a symbol of your love for me

Your father.

Okay, okay. Tonight Hunter and I started reading “Charlie’s Monument.” The last time I read that book was on a trip to Arizona with Mark, long before we had children. It totally made me cry then, it’s killing me now. Reading it with Hunter is torture all the way. Just about every other sentence I’m choking back tears. Hunter, Hunter, Hunter. . . .

So, that’s where the poem came from and while I totally love it, after a week like this one, I just have to chuckle when I read the part about turning my problems into servants. I’m not exactly sure how to do that. Let’s see–today I got thrown up on three times. Denver had poopies overflowing his diaper and then, after I thought he was all clean and started kissing his head, I realized that he still had poop in his hair. Ewwwww! Two of the three boys have fevers. All of them have coughs and are up several times during the night. I’m also sick and can’t sleep. Mark got home early but had to go to Kindergarten orientation as soon as he got home–so he really got home late. And, he has to be to work early tomorrow. Sunday was choir so I was on duty all day Sunday too, so I’m sort of burned out. Overtime and sick kids and being sick myself just drains me. I didn’t get my night off with Chris because it snowed and we didn’t go to playgroup because the kids are contagious. I’ve already shoveled twice this week and will probably have to do it again tomorrow because they are expecting 4 more inches overnight. It’s snowing and it’s supposed to be Spring! The house is messy and I can’t keep up. Arrrrgggghhhh!

So now then, how do I make that heap o’ trouble serve me? I feel more like the servant at this point. And what kind of monument am I building anyway? Right now it probably looks a lot like a giant poopie diaper. Maybe one arm and a twisted body would have been too easy for me. Maybe Heavenly Father knew I would struggle most with the ho-hum of every day life and thus benefit most from being a stay-at-home mother of 3 small children. Just think of all the things I’m learning and will have to offer the world when my boys are all grown. That giant poopie diaper monument is looking better already.

Just ran a bunch of errands today. Went to the bank to order checks, ran to Kohl’s to make a return, then went across the street to the grocery store for milk. I have to buy like 5 gallons of milk a week to keep my boys’ bones growning strong. Aye-carumba! Then, we hit the post office to mail some packages and pick up some stamps. We had to exchange a toy at ToysRUs for Hunter, and then picked up McDonald’s on our way home. The boys ate lunch while I cleaned up the kitchen and cleaned out our freezers. We had to run up to Trumbull to Hunter’s eye appointment and then went back to ToysRUs because the toy we exchanged didn’t work either. Oh brother! Picked Mark up at the train and got the kids in bed. It’s snowing, or it was snowing, a bunch. We’ll have to shovel tomorrow. The kids are all sick. Tonight Denver came down with a fever and was acting pretty miserable. Noah’s next. I’m not far behind. Ah well. Such is life.

Today my little Noah is three. It blows my mind how fast he’s grown. It doesn’t help that his little life has been blurred a little by the addition of Denver and the chaos that came with him. But, there’s nothing I’d change–I love them all so terribly much. We’ve asked Noah for months now what he wanted to do for his birthday and the answer always came back the same–go to the “round and round door hotel.” The hotel he is referring to is the Trumbull Marriott which he fell in love with over a year ago when Mom and Dad stayed there for Melanie’s wedding. The hotel has a revolving door which Noah thinks is absolutely fascinating, although he’s terrified to go through it alone. Anyway, we decided if that’s what he really wants, then why not? So, we reserved a room and invited everyone to join us there for pizza and a swim. We met at the hotel around 6:00pm and served up green jello jigglers (Noah’s favorite color is green), tossed salad, pizza and soda. The kids were so excited to get to the pool we hardly had time to eat before they were out the door and headed for the pool. We swam for about an hour and a half and had the entire pool to ourselves the entire time (what luck!). Afterwards, we returned to the room for cake and presents. I made a green jello cake for Noah and everyone brought him such nice gifts. Nate and Devanie got him a water gun little-kid style (it was so awesome I went and bought 3 more) and a gardening set, complete with watering can and bucket. All of those toys were a hit at the pool. The Rodriguez family got Noah a pair of walkie talkies which got carried around EVERYWHERE the following day and even picked up several surrounding conversations, which Hunter thought was totally cool. The Canas family handed Noah some money. We took Noah to ToysRUs the following day so he could spend it and all he wanted, out of all those toys, was a green tube of mini M&M’s and a little keychain flashlight from MonstersInc. (a favorite movie of Noah’s.) But, he went home completely happy. We got Noah a slinky and a bubble gun and a couple of games.

After everyone left, the boys watched “The Cat in the Hat” on t.v. and finally zonked around 11:30pm. I’m not sure of the time, I was exhausted and fell asleep around 10:30 or so. I think everyone had a lot of fun and I’m so glad everyone came to celebrate Noah. Thanks to all of you.

Today, I made Noah some Banana pancakes and stuck a few candles in them and sang “happy birthday.” Of course, Hunter and Denver got a candle in their pancakes too. Nothing major. I made them all let me cut their hair and now they are all taking naps. Hunter has a terrible cold and was practically begging me to tuck him in for naptime. A rare occassion in my house, to have all three boys asleep at once. Gotta love that. Tonight for FHE we’re reading an article from the “Friend” and playing “Don’t Eat Pete” and having fresh peaches and cream for dessert. Again, nothing major–around here it has to be simple. I’ll post pictures of the party tonight after everyone has gone to bed. So check out imagestation in the next couple of days. TTFN!

Hunter’s doctor appointment was ummmm. . .bad. Real bad. I’m never going back. Ever. I hate it! I think I’m gonna change doctors. I knew it wasn’t going to be fun when we drove up and found the waiting room all filled up. I was surprised because we didn’t end up in the waiting room very long, but the office was buzzing and everyone was hopping. They took us back to a nurses’ station and weighed and measured him, took his blood pressure (which Hunter HATES, but they actually managed to sneak it out of him), made him pee in a cup, and tried to do a hearing test but he was “uncooperative.” Whatever! Then, we ended up waiting there (ha! They tricked us!) because there weren’t any rooms open. The problem with that is trying to keep 3 little kids out of everything that a nurses’ station has to offer them. It’s not like the waiting room where they have “Shrek” playing on a t.v. and a bunch of toys to play with. We got a room eventually and again, didn’t have to wait too long. The doctor came in and between the 3 boys crying and screaming (both angrily and playfully) I could barely hear him. Why didn’t I get a babysitter? I never learn. Anyway, he got called out halfway through, so we ended up waiting some more. When he came back, he basically failed me on my “Motherhood Report Card.” I hate doctor’s appointments involving my kids, especially Hunter. Mark tells me that it’s not a report card, but if it isn’t, then what is it? They never tell me I’m doing anything good–just “needs improvement” on EVERYTHING! Hunter’s in the 90th percentile for weight and 50th percentile for height. He got taller, but he also gained weight. So, the doctor was worried about his weight. “Does he eat good? I mean, does he eat a pretty healthy diet? Does he drink milk?” I just wanted to look at him and say, “Nope. I just feed him candy and soda 3 meals a day.” Then, of course, of all days, his blood sugar was high and he was “spilling sugar.” So the doctor says , “So, how are his blood sugars? He’s spilling sugar right now. There aren’t any ketones, but. . .” What am I supposed to say to that? “Oh yeah, he’s ALWAYS spilling sugar. Is that bad?” Like I’m not killing myself trying to keep this little boy alive. If that wasn’t enough, he asked me about Hunter’s eyes. I told him that I took him to an optometrist to have a dilated eye exam because diabetes clinic reccommended it and he got glasses then. So the doctor tells me that I really should have taken him to an opthamologist, because they are “doctors” and are better at dilated eye exams than optometrists, especially with him having diabetes and all. And I said, “Is an opthamologist going to do something different during a dilated eye exam than an optometrist would?” And he said, “No, but they are trained better on what to look for with retinopathy and blah, blah, blah.” What. . .ever! So, here’s my report card so far:

Child’s height and weight within reccommended limits: F

Child’s blood sugar within normal ranges: F

Child receives proper medical attention from proper medical staff: F

Child brushes own teeth instead of parent doing it for him: F

Child cooperates with medical staff and follows directions: F

Parent uses his/her brain and hires babysitter for other children: F

Child’s immunizations up-to-date: A+

Okay, so if that were the end of it, I think I’d be all right, but you know. It’s not. Never is. The doctor left, leaving me anything but encouraged and sent in the nurse to administer his last MMR immunization. Next, Hunter had to have his blood drawn because they have to test his tegretol levels and make sure he has enough in him to prevent seizures but not too much, because that would make him sleepy and dizzy. So, we have to wait, again. Long story short–it takes 3 of us to hold Hunter down (one of the nurses is on the table, sitting on his legs) and another to draw his blood (which took 2 tries). Meanwhile, Noah and Denver are screaming and crying and climbing on my legs, trying to get me to hold them. When it was all done, the nurse brought each of the kids a drink of water and then said if she had any alcohol handy, she’d give it to me. At that point, rubbing alcohol probably would have done the trick. Two hours later we were finished. We hit the pharmacy next door to pick up a “treat” for being “so brave” and then went home for lunch.

Mother hangs onto her sanity and patience, despite 3 crying children, for 2 hours straight–A+

Despite being totally exhausted from the doctor’s office, Mother pulls off a fun birthday party for other child–A+

Mother gives her all 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no coffee breaks, lunch breaks, vacations, sick days, raises in pay, or bonuses–A+

Mother takes time out of every day to snug child and play with him/her–A+

Mother loves child more than anything else–A+

Hunter had an insulin reaction last night and a bad one at that. It was the first reaction that left me in tears before it was finished. He just grabs onto me so tight and screams so hard and there’s nothing I can do for him. The first thing he said when it was finished was, “Sorry I’m so sweaty, Daddy.” And then, when he realized I was still crying (and he was still holding onto me pretty tight) he said, “Didn’t you know I’m hugging you tight, Mommy?” Oh Hunter. My heart breaks for you. Only five years old and you’ve been through so much. It isn’t fair. If only I could take your place.

Turns out something is wrong with the meter we’ve been using. Mark checked his blood sugar in the middle of the episode and it said he was 259 and then 158. I knew that couldn’t be right. I was almost positive it wasn’t his epilepsy because he called for me and he was screaming–two things he doesn’t do when he’s having a seizure. So, I told Mark to “get another meter” and as always, he went running. A juice box, a glucose gel tube and three meters later we had two moe readings–80 and 100. So, obviously, something was wrong with the meter we had been using. This is the second time a Freestyle meter has given us a false reading and led to insulin reactions in Hunter. Yale really pushes the use of Freestyle’s meters but I just don’t feel confident using them anymore. We had just checked him before we went to bed and even reduced his insulin for the night. It shouldn’t have happened.

Anyway, despite the rough night, I got up early and exercised. We had playgroup, went to Wal-mart, ate lunch with a friend, went back to Wal-mart to get some batteries for the glucometer which I forgot the first time around and headed home. Both the big boys fell asleep on the way home so I had some very rare alone time with Denver, which I spent pushing him in the swing and throwing around some balls. Then dinner. I got a pounding headache soon after and fell asleep on the couch as soon as we got home from the train station and I got Denver tucked in bed. Don’t remember much after that except the boys taking turns climbing on me, waking me up and Mark telling them to get off and asking why I wouldn’t go up to bed. I don’t know. Why didn’t I? Because I know you are all dying to know what I did today and would be devastated if I didn’t do my daily blog. Really. . .I was hoping ER was on tonight. But it’s not–just Princess Diana and Michael Jackson. Blah! Noah’s birthday party tomorrow and Hunter’s 5-year well child exam. They have to draw blood–it’s not gonna be a pretty sight. Last time it took the receptionist to hold Denver, another receptionist to entertain Noah, two nurses and myself to hold Hunter and the Lab tech to get the blood. Oh well. He’s worth it. They all are–each and every one.

Last night I had a crazy dream

A wish was granted just for me

It could be for anything

I didn’t ask for money

Or a mansion in Malibu

I simply wished for one more day with you.

One more day, one more time

One more sunset maybe I’d be satisfied

But then again I know what it would do

Leave me wishing still for one more day with you.

First thing I’d do is pray for time to crawl

I’d unplug the telephone, keep the tv off

I’d hold you every second

Say a million I love you’s

That’s what I’d do, with one more day with you.

Today, the country station I listen to was raising funds for Saint Jude’s Medical Center, which does a lot of research in cancer. Throughout the day, they played different stories about families and their children’s battles with cancer. They played a bunch of great songs in the background and made it really sad and emotional, so they could get lots of money. Anyway, on our way to get Mark, they told a story about a little boy who died of cancer on his sixth birthday and like all the other stories, it was really heart-wrenching. But, the thing that really got me was the song they played in the background, “One More Day” by Diamond Rio.

I spent all day today cleaning the toy room–sorting toys, rebuilding the shelves, and trying to make some sense of the chaos that happens when you have too many toys and not enough space. As a result, I ended up ignoring three very special little people for most of the day. We didn’t play much. They had cream of wheat for lunch. And only Denver and Noah managed to sneak a snug out of me.

Well. . .thanks to 92.5 and Saint Jude’s, I got a real good reminder today about what really matters most. We never know when we’ll be required to say goodbye to someone we love. Every day I need to make sure the ones I love the most know I love them the most, before anything else (and that includes messy toyrooms and dishes and laundry and toilets.) And maybe that way, I won’t be left wishing for “one more day” to do the things I never took the time to do with the people I love more than any scrub brush or vacuum cleaner. I love you all!