This weekend the boys entertained themselves by watching a small colony of ants outside, feeding them sprinkles off our Dunkin Donuts and writing down their observations in homemade books. This is what Noah wrote. I think he did a fabulous job. 
There he is. . . right there at the head of the line. The cute one with the baby on the back of his bike. See him? That boy. . . he’s my secret weapon. I have people asking me on a regular basis how I manage to do it all and as much as I’d like to say it’s because I’m an amazing person, the truth is because of Mark. Yesterday I went out with my sister to help with my niece’s birthday party. I decided to stay at the mall afterwards and eat dinner with my sister and my Mom and find me a bra that doesn’t come from Motherhood Maternity or involve nursing snaps and flaps. Now given, I took the twins with me, but Mark had the other four boys all on his own. And when I returned home just before 10:00pm, guess who was doing the dishes. Mark was. He deserved to be sitting on the couch watching TV or playing computer games. But no. . . he was cleaning my kitchen. And that’s not all he does. He makes the bed, matches socks, folds and puts away laundry, changes diapers (even poopie ones), cleans up barf, vacuums, gardens, sews, cooks, quilts, sings, plays the piano, brings home the bacon, teaches piano and voice lessons, holds the babies whenever I throw one his way and whenever one might be screaming, takes the kids on bike rides, goes on family outings with us, and much much more. And if that isn’t enough to earn him the “Daddy of the Year” award, listen to what else he does.
I have been one cranky lady lately. Not all the time, but let’s just say my patience runs thin nowadays and sometimes I get a little more excited about things than necessary. And usually by the end of the day when Mark rolls in from work, I’m not always the shining pillar of love and happiness that he’d probably like to come home to. But he never complains. He just jumps right in helping with whatever I ask him to do and he hugs me and kisses me (even in all my ugliness) and gives me that last little boost to make it through the rest of the day. And he gives me back rubs and foot rubs and lets me hold the remote and will bring me ice cream and chocolate and anything my little heart desires at the end of the day even when he sees my waistline expanding and knows I really don’t need it. And you know what? Even despite my hugeness, he has never said an unkind word to me or wished me to be anything but who I am. And he thinks I’m pretty. And he thinks I’m a good mother. And he loves me even when I’m hard to love. And when you have a secret weapon as powerful as mine it makes doing it all easy.
I love you Secret Weapon!
The J-Team turned six months old exactly two hours ago and I can’t stand to put this post off another minute. So. . . Happy half birthday guys! You are growing so fast. A month ago when I started this post I remember cuddling you up in my arms and seeing how your eyelashes brushed the tops of your cheeks and wondering when they ever got so long. And the other day while we were out I had one of you in my front pack and a passerby sort of whispered to their friend, “Look at that fat little baby!” And it’s true. . . you boys are totally chubbing out. Taking after your mamma I guess. And while I’m totally happy for you, that you are big fat bouncy baby boys, I’m afraid the baby part of that isn’t going to last me nearly long enough and I wish you’d slow down just a bit.
You’ve graduated from breastfeeding to nursing and you both can down a six ounce bottle faster than I can say, “Formula makes me want to barf!” You both have hefty appetites and we definitely can tell when you haven’t had your morning and late night feedings of oatmeal or rice cereal. Of course, thanks to your slow poke Mamma, I haven’t gotten around to the other yummy stuff your brothers all had by now, mainly barfy peas, barfy green beans, sweet potatoes, carrots and squash. But don’t you fret! The vegetables are on their way tonight thanks to Peapod (our online grocery store)! You are still small in the grand scheme of things, Jericho weighing in at a whopping 13.5 pounds and Justus at almost 14 pounds, but of all the boys I swear you two eat the most. You must be in a hurry to catch up with the big boys and I’m telling you it’s not that great to be big. Take your time, really. I mean, what’s so great about taking out the garbage and cleaning your room and doing homework?
Most people that know you, that see you on a regular basis don’t usually comment on your size so much but rather on the amazing things you can do. At four and a half months you started rolling over from your back to your stomach. I believe Jericho went first and was followed shortly by Justus, shortly meaning within 24 hours. Two weeks after that you started sleeping through the night. Jericho again took the lead but Justus was not going to be outdone and followed soon after. Nowadays you sleep at least a good eight hours a night and sometimes give us an astounging twelve! You have both mastered jumping (and sleeping) in the Johnny Jump Ups and are also content in the exersaucers which allows me to chase after Caleb, have a shower, make dinner and occasionally catch up on blogs. You also enjoy rolling all over the place, chomping on a few random chew toys and best of all, being cuddled. You’ve both started babbling and there have been more than a few times when I’ve mistaken you for Caleb. You both have the most amazing laughs but Justus laughs best when spoken to in a certain way and Jericho loves to be tickled.
I hesitate to label either of you with specific attributes because your Daddy and I have both noticed that you flip-flop every so often and leave us completely baffled. I am so ashamed to admit it but neither your Daddy or I can tell you apart except for the nail polish on Jericho’s toe and the pacifier straps you’ve been assigned. We try every now and then to test each other but more often than not we fail miserably. In that way I hope you grow up quick so you can keep track for yourselves who you are, or so I can at least take you to a tattoo parlor and have your initials tattooed somewhere discreet, like on your foreheads perhaps. We used to tell you apart because Justus was usually the one fussing while Jericho was happy just to sit and watch Justus in hysterics. But now it seems Jericho is the fussier of you two and Justus is laid back and relaxed. Jericho blows raspberries, something that Justus hasn’t done yet but we won’t rely on that to tell you two apart because as soon as we do, Justus will start spitting at us too.
All in all, you both are an absolute joy to have around. Really. . . you are hardly demanding and very patient. You sleep a lot and eat a lot and smile a lot–what else could a mother possibly ask for? I look forward to each morning and seeing your happy faces and again each night when I get to wrap you up in my arms and snuggle you without distraction. The only problem I have with the two of you is that I just don’t get enough time to hold you and snuggle you and smell your sweet smells. And I see the little boys in you just lurking around the corner, anxious and excited, and I feel like time is a thief stealing your smallness away from me. But that’s the way life is–always on the move, forever changing and more often than not, it’s for the good. So I’ll hold you while I can and continue to look forward to those little boys I see peeking around the corner at me. I can just tell they are going to be lots of fun.
I’m supposed to be exercising right now. Or at least folding laundry. I just spent an hour doing my grocery shopping online and I can’t seem to get myself up to do anything else. I’m tired. I’m trying to lose weight. I’ve decided that if I replace my late night binge with an hour of exercise each night I might just lose some weight. I’ve got about three pairs of pants left that actually fit. You think I’m exaggerating but really I’m not. After being pregnant and nursing for the past eight years of my life I’ve developed some terrible eating habits. And I’ve decided I’ve got to break myself of them now or die. Or go naked because I refuse to buy myself larger pants. It’s really quite shocking, seeing myself in the mirror and seeing how robust I’ve become. Mark and the boys continue to pat me on the back and smile and say how skinny I am but I’m afraid they are lying. Either that or my pants are shrinking and I don’t think they could ever shrink that much, even if I washed them in super hot water. . . repeatedly. And I’ve been content believing the lies until now–now that I don’t have anything that fits or looks good on me. It’s very depressing. Especially now that I’m in my thirties and my metabolism has supposedly slowed down and that makes losing weight even harder. And even though it’s only my second night trying to change my ways, I’m totally in chocolate withdrawal and I really just want to curl up on the couch with a bag of chocolate chips and some popcorn and watch American Idol and drown out the “should be doings” for a little while. It’s so hard to resist.
I went with Hunter on a field trip today. We went to see the play “Charlotte’s Web.” They read the book at school this past fall and with the movie being released just before Christmas, the play was the perfect finale. Everyone that saw that I was going to the show kept staring at me in amazement, like “how did you escape?” And then they’d say something like how nice this little field trip will be for me and am I excited. I guess I always think if I’m going to escape, a trip with sixty second graders on a school bus to see a production of Charlotte’s Web in a hot, stuffy theatre isn’t exactly what I’d pick for myself. But Hunter was excited to have me (as was the school nurse who wouldn’t have to go on the trip with sixty second graders on a bus. . . ) and he’s due for a little Mommy time. So we went and by the time I got home my head was pounding. Just imagine sixty second graders screaming “honk, honk, honk, honk” at the top of their lungs as they all stand in their windows trying to signal to the Semi’s as they speed by that they want them to honk, honk, honk, honk! And of course, once we got to the theatre and it was dark and quiet, all I wanted to do was sleep. I’m not used to sitting so much during the day and my body definitely thought since I wasn’t doing anything productive I should be sleeping. I was definitely struggling to stay awake. But the play was cute and Hunter was happy and what more can we ask for?
With all the lovely weather we’ve been having I actually have a sunburn. Denver has spent the entire past two days outside in the sun and he’s already turning brown. Lucky! We’ve pulled out almost every outside toy we own and even some toys that don’t belong outside. We’ve filled up the pool and played with the hose and the bubbles and the chalk and visited the park and played and played and played. The house has stayed pretty nice and clean on the inside but cleaning up the outside is exhausting. Oh. . . I’m so tired. And I have so much to do. But no matter how much I try and tell myself to “go, go, go” all I want to do is “eat chocolate and sleep, eat chocolate and sleep, eat chocolate and ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.”
With what looks like two black eyes and a goose-egg on his forehead you might think we’ve been beating the poor boy. But really he’s just a bruiser, a mighty Tonka trunk with absolutely no fear, not even of pain. And is it any wonder I start hyperventilating when I loose sight of him? Seriously, nothing sends me into a panic attack faster than not knowing where Caleb is. His latest endeavors include breaking our drinking glasses and playing with the remaining shards of glass until he’s bleeding all over the place and falling head first off of furniture. Yesterday he was all set to jump head first into our fire pit and I don’t even want to know what his plans are for today. Heaven help us!
I never thought I’d be saying this at the end of Spring Break but I’m kinda bummed it’s over. Sure the kids have done their fair share of fighting and Caleb has done his best to terrorize us all, but we’ve also had a lot of fun. Especially once I accepted that the weather wasn’t necessarily going to cooperate. I started making some plans that the weather couldn’t thwart and amazingly enough we managed to pull them all off. First off, we got our garden started. Denver and Noah helped prepare the pots and plant the seeds and less than a week later we have all sorts of little green shoots peeking up out of the soil. And of course, we’ve added just one more “to do” to Mark’s list: prepare the garden patch. . . quick!
Tuesday we had playgroup at the church only no one let me know it was cancelled. So I showed up with all six boys and there was no one for them to play with. But lucky for us, I had a key and our good friends, the Restuccias were in town and they decided to come play with us. So we played until meltdown and then played even longer while we waited for AAA to come help with a dead battery. But we had McDonalds and silly putty and a sense of humor and we all went home happy.
Wednesday I took Hunter up to Yale for his Neurology Clinic. He still has those darn epileptic brain waves and the doctor has decided it’s best to keep Hunter on his meds for a little while longer. He’s also decided that he wants to change what meds Hunter is currently taking because there are new anticonvulsants out there that have fewer side effects and fewer risks. Wednesday was also our third day stuck inside, thanks to a Spring Noreaster that wouldn’t budge, so I recruited the help of my good friend Darlene and arranged for her to come watch the twins Thursday while I took the boys to a nearby aquarium. Of course it was probably the busiest day of the year there (thanks to a bunch of moms with kids home for spring break and several days of soggy weather) and the crowds were a little overwhelming, but we had fun anyway. As we left, the sun miraculously peeked out from behind the clouds and we headed over to a nearby park that the boys have been begging to go to for months now. We all ran around in reckless abandon, thrilled to feel the sun on our faces and the wind in our hair. When Mark got home from work he took the boys to our community theatre to see Night At The Museum while I stayed and put the babies to bed.
Mark took Friday off and gave me some time off as well. So I went and got a pedicure with Kim Restuccia and then we sat in Duchess for almost three hours chowing down on french fries and chatting about all the crazy things that have changed for us over the years and how silly it all is. We finished reading Bridge to Terabithia this week and were planning on going to see the movie on Friday but unfortunately we waited too long and it’s no longer in theatres out here. So the kids played outside in the almost eighty degree weather all day and Mark and I took turns trying to get odd jobs done around the house. Mark even managed to get Caleb out for a bike ride with the big boys following closely behind and I had the rare opportunity to cook with Noah and teach him how to make French Toast.
Saturday we ran a few errands and then took the boys to swim at the local YMCA and eat dinner at IHOP. The twins had their first swim and Caleb kept Mark and I both on our toes chasing him here, there and everywhere. But man, did he love swimming! We stopped by the local furniture store on our way home, to drool over the dining room table we both really want while the kids loaded up on candy at the little candy store there. And today after church we took the kids up to a state park not too far away and had a nice little picnic there. The boys did some hiking and wading and we stayed until Denver’s flip-flop floated downstream and Caleb freaked out because I wouldn’t let him drown himself in the middle of the river. At that point we loaded up the team and headed home where we played outside and roasted marshmallows until it was time for PJ’s and America’s Funniest Videos.
And now it’s time for me to go to bed so I can get up early and send the boys off to school and Mark off to work and start off another hum-drum week. I’ll miss the boys and our lazy, laid back schedule and the ability to do whatever we want whenever we want. As much as I hate the fact that the boys have spring break a month after they have winter break and then have to attend school all the way into June, I’ve really enjoyed this spring break and am sad to see it end. Guess I’ll just have to start making plans for this summer. Hmmmmm. . . what should we do?
Caleb, you are 18 months old now. Pretty much I think if you make it to the age of two it will be a miracle. I used to watch mothers of children like you and think, “They must be bad parents the way their kids get into such mischief. They’re probably neglecting them or something.” Then I had you. And I don’t think they’re bad parents anymore. Mostly I regret ever thinking such a thing of those people. I am a busy mother and you do have way too much unsupervised time on your hands so it might be because I neglect you but I do my best to take care of you. Really I do. I read to you and sing to you and take you to the park and build blocks with you and tickle you and snuggle you and I gate off all unsafe areas and lock all unsafe cupboards and put up all unsafe items. But still you seem to have a knack for finding danger and “playing with fire” so-to-speak and even as I type this I’m considering deleting the “playing with fire” bit just because I’m afraid that just because I said it, you’ll start doing it. You run me ragged, keep me on my toes, exhaust me, bring me to tears with all the trouble you seem to find and it’s because of you that I seriously expect Child Protective Services to show up on my doorstep and take you away. And the only relief I find in such a terrible thought is that it would only be a short matter of time before they’d bring you back, their own hair falling out and their eyes bugging out, nervously twitching and trembling with fear as they hand you over to me, apologizing profusely for ever doubting me. You are hell on wheels, a Tazmanian Devil, every mother’s nightmare, a holy terror.
Not a day goes by that I don’t find you in some kind of mischief. Yesterday you were finding great pleasure running around the upstairs with the plunger. I just bought the big boys a bunch of posters for their new army themed bedroom. They weren’t cheap. I spent a bunch of time hanging them up and adding the final touches to their room. I was so proud of myself. And in a matter of minutes you were ripping the posters off the wall and doing your best to tear them to pieces. You are banned from the big boys’ bedroom forever. You unload the freshly folded laundry that I’ve just put away and throw it all over the house. You unroll the toilet paper and fill up the toilet. You suck on the tubes of toothpaste until your mouth is blue. You suck on the computer cables and I have no idea how you haven’t been electrocuted. You pour bucketfuls of water on the bathroom floor every time you have a bath. You are forbidden to have any sort of cup in the bathtub ever again. You dump the crayons all over the floor. The few times you’ve gotten ahold of the scissors you run with them. You dump the “play rice” on the floor. The other day you were playing in the sink. You dropped a cup on the floor and instead of forgetting about it, you decided to fill it up from where you were, pouring water all over the kitchen floor. We can’t leave the kitchen table uncleared because you throw the dishes on the floor and dump the food all over the table and basically leave behind a major disaster. You climb on everything and then fall off, always banging your head on something. You love to suck on all things poisonous like my deoderant, my lotion, my perfume, nail polish, shoe polish, medicine bottles, just about anything you shouldn’t suck on. You climb in the bath with your clothes on, fish in the toilet, and throw our valuables in the trash can.
You pick on the babies, terrorize the big boys and bully everyone else inbetween. The other day I was typing and had Jericho on my lap with you by my side. All of the sudden Jericho was in hysterics and when I looked down he had teeth marks on the back of his fat little hand from you. About a week ago the boys were looking for a gamecube paddle. When Daddy told them you had it, all three of the big boys got up, knowing it would take all three of them to muscle it away from you. You whack pacifiers out of babies’ mouths and find great pleasure in knocking down other children your age. Last week I made banana bread. Halfway through the mixing process you woke up from your nap and started right in on distracting me with some sort of mischief. As a result, I mis-measured the flour and ended up having to triple the batch. So I had a ton of banana bread on the counter cooling and what did you do? You decided to pour dirty dishwater all over the banana bread leaving me with a lot of dirty dishes and not many muffins to eat. And probably hardest of all is trying to take you outside (or anywhere for that matter.) You love to run in the street and think it’s the most fun to run away from me. The other day I had both babies in my arms. I’m not sure why I thought I could take you outside and hold the twins at the same time. I think I was feeling guilty for keeping you cooped up in the house on such a nice day. Whatever I was thinking I took you outside with my arms full of babies. You ran a few circles in the backyard and then decided it would be much more fun to run in the street, especially because my arms were too full to grab you and I think you knew it. After several attempts at convincing you not to go in the street I had to leave one of the babies laying outside on the lawn all alone while I wrestled you into the house where you sat kicking and screaming at me for cooping you up once again. When I returned to get the baby from the grass several cars were driving by very slowly, looking at the poor baby left abandoned on the front lawn and wondering where the heck its mother was. At that point I sat on the floor with the three of you babies on my lap, wanting so desperately to cry but I couldn’t. I was beyond tears, half knowing it wouldn’t fix anything and half just numb to the chaos you’ve brought to my life. So I ate a candybar instead and almost felt better, almost.
But I’ll tell you what Caleb. Despite all the tears you’ve made me want to cry and all the candy bars I’ve eaten because I couldn’t cry and all the almost heart attacks you’ve caused me and all the frustration and hair loss and nervous twitches I have because of you, I still melt when you sidle up beside me with your silkie in tow and your thumb in your mouth. And I love it when you bring me a book and sit quietly in my lap, enthralled with the pictures and the turning pages. And my heart leaps with joy when you get a hold of the phone and you don’t call 911 but rather restrain yourself by repeatedly telling yourself “no, no, no.” And we all love you for all of the trouble you cause because it gives us something to laugh about like when you “Rarrrr” at your friend Darlene in the middle of Sacrament meeting. My life wouldn’t be complete without you in it, Caleb and while it might be a miracle if you make it to two, I know it’s a miracle that Heavenly Father sent me you. I love you!
You’re a mystery, you’re from outer space, you’re every minute of my everyday. And I can’t believe, uh that I’m your [mom] and I get to kiss you baby just because I can.–Michael Buble
Today is the first day of Spring Break and Mother Nature gave me this. . .
four inches of rain and a soggy forecast. I suppose she never had six little boys in cramped quarters for an extended period of time. How terribly thoughtless! Normally it wouldn’t be so bad. We’d go on rain walks and fish for worms and hit the aquarium or the movie theatre or something. But rain walks have been done away with since the arrival of Mr. Hell on Wheels (Caleb) and with three babies in tow, let’s just say we don’t go out much. Just the thought of loading everyone up makes me want to curl up in a ball and suck my thumb. This week is going to be very, very, VERY long.
Hunter’s school has recorded a CD every year since he started Kindergarten there. All of the students and teachers sing on it and they use the money they get from selling it to us parents to send the fifth grade students to the symphony at the end of the year. Every grade has a few soloists selected to sing on the CD and we’ve been anxiously awaiting Hunter’s turn. Afterall we all know what a great singer he is–we just knew it was only a matter of time. Well, his turn came much sooner than expected and we no longer have to wait. If everyone gets fifteen minutes of fame, then this counts as at least 5 seconds of Hunter’s. I’m so proud I could just burst. Way to go Hunter!
Click Here to hear Hunter’s song on the school CD. And of course, any of you that want a copy of the CD for your own collection give us a call. The school always orders extra copies.
Noah came home from school a few days ago with a take home handout that he got during “Art in the Classroom.” Basically it was a black and white photocopy of the above picture along with the name of the painting and the artist–Lobster and Cat by Pablo Picasso. I held up the handout and asked Noah what the picture was and he said, “Lobster and Cat. A seventy year old man painted like a kid!” Such valuable information he’s learning.
This morning as I went through Noah’s backpack I came across an envelope with Noah’s name on it. Oh good, I thought, an invitation to a birthday party. Now I realize most parents’ responses to a birthday party invitation would be quite the opposite. But in this case it was a relief to see. Not because Noah isn’t popular and doesn’t get invited places. It’s just that all of the parties Noah has been invited to are on Sunday and Sunday is our family day. We don’t do birthday parties on Sunday. Instead we go to church. Noah has yet to be invited to a party that’s not on a Sunday. So when I saw the invitation I was ever so hopeful he’d be able to go. Noah tore the sucker open in anticipation and wowed me with his ability to read the entire invitation right down to the “Sunday, April 29th from 1-2:30pm.” Then he stopped and reread the date again, only instead of saying Sunday he asked “Saturday. . . April 29th” like he was sure he’d made a mistake. One look at my face and he knew he’d been right the first time and immediately burst into tears. We barely had time for a hug and an “I’m so sorry Noah” and we had to head out the door for school. As we walked the very long and depressing block up to school, Noah hung his head and stifled his tears as best he could. Then Stefano appeared cheerfully calling Noah’s name and waving, hurrying over to catch up with us. As soon as he saw Noah’s tearful face he said, “Ah Noah, what?” (He sounded just like a very sympathetic mother.) I explained to Stefano that Noah wanted to go to Sean’s birthday party but that he couldn’t and he was very sad about it. Then Stefano smiled and said, “That’s okay Noah. Nobody can go to the party today. It’s a school day!” Then Stefano and his mother bubbled along down the sidewalk like all of the worries of the day had just evaporated into thin air. Poor Noah. I’m afraid he has his mother’s luck and that’s a very bad thing to have, indeed.