Lucky Girl

I get to have a root canal tomorrow. Yea, me.

I've been loopy on Tylenol with Codeine since Friday night. Sometimes I feel like my arms and legs are not attached to my body.

George put aside money in our health spending account so that I could have a root canal and crown done in January, but my tooth would not wait three weeks until we could actually afford it. So, lucky me, I get to have the root canal done tomorrow.

We had a nice but busy weekend. Saturday, we (mostly George) succeeded in cleaning out most of the garage. This was quite a feat, let me tell you. I'm actually very impressed/surprised that my husband worked so hard to get it cleaned up. He must be feeling that Santa's-list-naughty-or-nice crunch.

Renee took Bart and Mack to Jacksonville to do Christmas shopping, so Bart missed going to see the Flotilla with us Saturday evening. I was not real happy about that, but at least he had fun going to see "Bolt" at the movies and playing at Chuck E. Cheese with Nana and Mack. It was pretty chilly out, but I think the Flotilla is always worth it. There's just something quaint and cozy about downtown New Bern at Christmas. I love the atmosphere. It's all about carriage rides and boats and artwork and good food.

Sunday, after Church, Skylar had to ride with the Girl Scouts in the Trent Woods parade. New Bern's parade had been on Saturday afternoon, but we chose to skip it this year and just go to Trent Woods. It was cold and windy out. We parked near Bangert Elementary and found a place near the beginning of the parade route. One thing I love about the Trent Woods parade is that those folks know how to give out some candy! I have literally never seen so much candy and goodies thrown to parade-goers, and let me tell you, I have been in a LOT of parades in my life. At one point, the candy was literally raining down from above - I'm not even exaggerating. We got hit with Tootsie Rolls and candy canes lobbed by over-excited Cub Scouts and collected tangerines given out by Bart & Skylar's school, Ben D. Quinn. We caught a bag of golf tees and a poster of Handy Manny. Last year, Drake got a stuffed animal. We collected candy until our pockets were full and then we had to put it in the basket under the stroller. The only thing I had to put all the candy in when we got to the car was a small backpack. The candy filled the backpack to the very top. I'm telling you - it was better than Halloween.

Monday, we succeeded in finally getting our Christmas tree decorated for Family Home Evening. We'd had it up with lights and ribbons on for a few days, but due to busy schedules, it had just sat there unfinished. Of course, that's one down like four more to go. I put a smaller (six foot) tree on the upstairs balcony, two four foot trees on the front porch, and I'm contemplating putting my four foot white tree in the playroom. I recently located my box of white and blue Christmas decorations, which had gotten misplaced in the shuffle of moving,

I'm doing it again. I'm falling asleep at the keyboard. It's definitely time to get to bed....

Madame Lulu

I realized in that last post, that I just complained mostly. Well, here's some good news:

Lucy, aka Madame Lulu, rolled over today for the first time - from her tummy to her back.

I know it's because she hates being on her tummy so much, but I was excited nonetheless.

My sweet Lucy, she's getting to be such a big girl.

Bart and Drake were crazy today. Drake kept going up to Bart while he was trying to read his book for school and hitting him and saying, "Fight". Drake was trying to get Bart to go have a light saber fight with him in the playroom. When Bart managed to get him to stop hitting him, Drake turned to Skylar and tackled her head.

Honestly, I never know what that kid is going to do next. Right now, he's all about "muht". "Muht" means "milk" in Drake speak, and "Snot muht" is his favorite drink. It means "snack milk" which is what he calls chocolate milk. I can't think of a less appetizing name for something containing chocolate.

OK, I'm off to eat my "snot tuhtties" - er, chocolate cookies...

December's Off to a Bang

I'm just writing a little before I head off to bed. Today was a little hairy. I'm not really sure why, I just felt a little off all day. I've been sick since Thursday evening (Thanksgiving). I had started to get a sore throat. Then I was up at 4am on Black Friday, doing the Walmart crazy thing. Then I didn't get to bed until after midnight. Anyway, I was wiped out and ran a small fever on Saturday. I missed church on Sunday. Yesterday I felt like crap. Today, I'm starting to feel a little better.

We had a movie night scheduled at church tonight for the women. We were going to watch Mr. Kruger's Christmas in our PJ's and eat popcorn. However, by the time George got home and I unwound and we made dinner, it was just kind of late. I decided instead that I really wanted to take Skylar to see Twilight. I went a few weeks ago with a couple of friends & liked it. I felt like Sky & I could use some mommy-little girl time.

We had a great time. When Edward kisses Bella for the first time in the movie, Skylar was like, "Why can't that be me?" And I'm all like, "Patience, my dear, patience. One day, it will be." Except, no vampire, of course. I hope.

Yep. She's growing up, all right. My little baby Skylar kept whispering through the movie, "He's pretty hot!"

At least she's got good taste, right?

I was pretty surprised, though. For the last year and a half, she's been reserving her admiration for the one and only Harry Potter. I think it impressed her that the actor playing Edward also played Cedric Diggory in the 4th Harry Potter movie. Move over Daniel Radcliffe....

The movie was pretty tame (almost no swearing, no sex - only one major kissing scene, minimal blood and violence considering it's a vampire movie), but I still think I will hold off on letting her read the books. They're in no way bad books, but I think that they're still just a bit above Skylar's head as far as male-female relationships go. We haven't really had THE TALK yet, after all. Oh, she knows how babies come about, yada yada, but we haven't really sat down with her and been like, "OK, so this is how it happens..." I am not anticipating that day with any amount of happiness at all.

Tonight on the way to the movie, I had to explain to her that her former idol, Clay Aiken, is gay. Talk about uncomfortable. I really didn't want the kids at school to be the first to break that lovely little news to her. She said, "But doesn't he have a baby?" So I had to explain that one to her. Then she said, "But he isn't married, is he?" So I had to explain that one to her.

Thanks a lot, Clay.

When George called at 5:02 pm today, he was in rather (uncharacteristically) good spirits. When he told me he'd be home in half an hour, that he was still at work, and I cried, "What??", he didn't get annoyed with me or anything, but promised to hurry home.

Oh, when will I learn?

When he walked in the door, I was feeding Baby Lucy. After a few moments of cheerful small talk, he said, "So what would you do if I said I found a Wii Fit and bought it?" I just rolled my eyes and said, "So is this a hypothetical question, or did you already buy the Wii Fit and it's outside in your car?" He did his doofy grin and mumbled that it was out in the car.

I've learned by now that some things really aren't worth arguing about. Pick your battles, right? If a stupid video game makes him happy & eager to please me, fine. Whatever. He's all like, "But this is something I'm really going to use." OK, and I would REALLY use a pair of plain black Gucci pumps. I'd just like it on record that I've never gone out and spent $180 on them. I can just see George's face if I ever went out and spent nearly $200 bucks just before Christmas because I wanted to, particularly when we don't have the money to spare AT ALL.

But you see, that's what makes me so mad. I at least admit that just because it's not important to me, it is important to him. Fine. But he would NEVER, NEVER let me "waste" that much money on something he deemed unimportant. Like shoes. No way. Not a chance.

It's infuriating!!!!

And to top it all off, Wii Fit has just officially become my worst enemy.

I figured I would give George a little patience and kindness and do the fitness test. Besides, I was curious. I've always been in really good shape. Even now, with twelve extra pounds left from my last pregnancy (Lucy is 3 months old), I'm only a size 5/6. I'm trying to get back to my regular size 2/3. So, I was looking forward to finding out my BMI and my body age, or whatever it's called. Back before I got pregnant with Drake, my BMI was 13. I knew I wouldn't be anywhere close to that, but it turns out that it is 22, which is average. I know I've got a ways to go. George was labeled "obese" after his test, which he expected. He needs to lose some major weight. But his body age or whatever it's called was still only 32 years old.

So I take my test. It consists of your weight, etc. and these stupid balance and agility tests. And I totally flunk out on the agility/balance tests. I had no idea there was a time limit on this thing.

Wii Fit said my body age was 49!!!!

Are you freaking kidding me?? I'm not even labeled overweight, and George is labeled obese, and his body is supposedly like a 32 year old's and mine is like a 49 year old's? That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. I was so mad, I retook it. It gave me a different, weird agility test, which both George and I thought I did pretty well on, but stupid Wii Fit said, "Apparently agility tests aren' t your strong point" and it gave me a body age of 41. Ooh, I lost eight years. Big deal. It's still a load of crap.

There is no way I'm going to buy that George's body is in better shape than mine. I mean, he sits at a desk most of the day. I'm always up, moving, walking. I took Pilates and Kickboxing and ballet for crying out loud! I spent all last summer swimming! If I get a quiet minute to do nothing, it's while I'm sitting on the sofa, nursing Lucy - and then, my body is still burning up more calories than his!!!!

This is NOT what I needed to hear right now. I did not need a video game to tell me I am old and out of shape. I told George they had better come out with Wii Marriage Counseling next because we were going to need it.

Yeah, I'm sure he'd run right out and stand in line for that one.

So that's where I stand. I am NOT playing that dumb game with him. If I want to get in shape, it's not going to be doing video games. Does no one else realize how absurd that is? Hmm...I want to lose ten pounds, maybe if I stay in my house in front of my TV, I can do it. Running? Ha. Biking? Ha.

If I were a jerk, I'd sue Wii for emotional damage. Honestly, it was pretty shattering. I can totally see where less stable individuals might go off the deep end or commit suicide after the Wii told them they were old and out of shape and basically sucked. If I were the drinking sort, I might've tossed down a few to make myself feel better. Me, I turn to chocolate. I had two devil's food chocolate cookies to make myself feel better for being fat.

You see, I'm all about reverse psychology. I'm testing a theory that it works on fat cells. My thighs will have to get back to you on that.

Ain't technology great? As if we weren't already hard enough on ourselves. I'm telling you - keep your eyes open for Wii Therapist. I have a feeling we're going to need it.

A Hard Thing to Say

OK, I'm going to launch into something I almost never do, because of how explosive the topic is, but as I worked on some Christmas crafts tonight, I could not get this out of my mind. In fact, I should be asleep right now instead of up typing. But sometimes I just can't sleep until I work things out in my head.
I've been saying since the election that I am going to give Obama a chance, even if I don't really think he can do the things he says he can, because he asked America to do so, and I believe that everyone deserves a chance to reach their potential. I sincerely hope that he can help America climb out of this sinkhole we're in. He seems to be a loving father to his girls. But one thing really bothers me. I know that liberal politicians are for abortion and all that, but I will not agree with it. And it really, really bothers me that a man like Obama, who is such a role model, such a historic figure, should so openly condone it. In an interview I saw, he was saying that if one of his daughters should make a mistake (i.e. get pregnant), he would hope that she would not have to be burdened by the consequences of that mistake, to paraphrase. Can I support a leader who thinks like this (and trust me, I know he is not the only one, but as an upstanding, decent, loving family man with a message of peace and change, shouldn't he be different?)?
I find this whole point of view just awful. First of all, this is exactly the attitude that is raising an entire generation of children to believe that they do not have to take responsibility for their actions. Second of all, a child is never a mistake. There are always people willing, desperate, to have a child of their own, who will gladly pay for medical care for a mother and child and for adoption costs. I know this because our church has a program in place to do just this, to help everyone involved.
In high school and college, I was actually Pro-Choice. But then I realized what I was standing up for. Yes, a woman has the right to make choices for her own body, but that right doesn't begin with the decision to have an abortion or not to. It begins with the choice to have sex or not to have sex. And guess what, if you're not ready to raise a child and completely alter the course of your life, then you probably should not be having sex - or at least you'd better be pretty darn well protected. And yes, I have the right to speak out on this one. I know from experience.
While we're on the "it's my body, my choice" argument, I have to say that once you conceive, you are no longer only choosing for yourself- you're also choosing for another person. A little person who cannot choose for himself or herself. A little person whose greatest protector should be his or her mother.
Who are we to decide whether this person lives or dies? Who are we to wipe them off the face of the earth before they have even had a chance to live or be held and loved? To erase whatever they would have or might have been?
It absolutely kills me. I want to cry sometimes, and my heart freezes for a second, when I think of what my life would have been like had I made a different choice nine years ago. I have to squeeze my eyes shut and push the horrible thoughts away, but this feeling of loneliness and despair sits heavy on my heart for awhile afterward.
What would I do without my bossy little dancer, my mothering little book-worm?


How can I look at my beautiful, amazing daughter and think abortion is OK? How can I look at her and say "the world would have been better without you because I wanted to finish college first, because I wasn't ready to raise a baby yet"? What if I had made a different choice? Would the world have ever known her? Would Skylar, Bart, Drake, and Lucy ever have existed? They are the lights of my life - what would I have been without them? How do I possibly - me, a human being - have the knowledge and responsibility to make a decision so enormous that its consequences echo throughout this life and eternity?
George and I did make a choice, and I am thankful everyday that it was the right one. We had the support and love of our families, and that made all the difference.
I'm actually crying as I write this because it took a lot to make me realize the infinite importance of family and of human life. It took everything in my entire life being turned upside down - my parents splitting up, getting pregnant at eighteen, my sister dying - before I could know. We pass through experiences that change us so completely that we don't even recognize the person we were before.
And I guess I'll break my other taboo - not going off on a religious slant. But I have to say that I cannot believe that a God who loves even the smallest and most insignificant ant, and each and every blade of grass, would not value a tiny half-grown human life, too. I cannot believe that forty million little lights being snuffed out every year would not break his heart. I know, from watching my own parents grieve, that the passing of just one beloved child is more than a person can bear sometimes.


So I look at this picture here and I try to imagine what it would look like without Skylar - and then would follow Bart, Drake, and Lucy. What a lonely, lonely thought. I cannot even bear to type this, but I have to have the courage to say what I believe, even if it's hard to swallow. I can barely write this because my eyes are filled with tears.
What I'm saying is that each of us is free to make our own choices, but we will be held accountable for the consequences of those choices. Right or wrong. We have to take responsibility for what we do and realize that the choices we make for ourselves affect others - infinitely many others.
What will my grandchildren be like? Will they have curls like Skylar or red hair like Drake? Will they say "Thank you, my darlin" like Bart, or cry with a hoarse little voice like Lucy?
Each of us has a duty to correct some wrongs, stand as a better example to future generations, and to be the voice for little ones who have none yet.
What will my grandchildren be like? My great-grandchildren, even?
I don't know yet, but the point is that I will.

Sleep Walking

I realized tonight that Skylar is not the only one sleep walking lately. I was sitting on the sofa, nursing Lucy, and I had dozed off. George woke me up, and after a few minutes in which I listened to him while he prattled on about something (I can't remember what), I thought I was awake enough to reply. My contacts were really dry, so I was trying to tell him I needed to put drops in my contact lenses, but what came out was "I need to put crap in my sunglasses."
What the heck? Sunglasses?
Kind of reminds me of a time when Bart was a newborn baby. I had him sleeping in the bassinet next to my bed so I could easily reach him when he woke up to eat. Well, he woke up in the middle of the night, so I reached over, picked him up, and put him up to nurse, only he didn't stop crying. After a few seconds of groping around with my eyes still shut, trying to get him to latch on, he was still crying. Eventually I opened my eyes, discovered Bart was still in the bassinet wailing, and I had been trying to nurse a stuffed animal the whole time.
I'm telling you, people, check your dignity at the door when you become a mother.
I'm curious what other random acts of exhaustion I've committed unknowingly.
Today was one of those non-stop days I usually try to avoid. We got up, took the Big Two to school, bought trash stickers, I RACED through a shower, didn't dry my hair, and we went to meet Vanessa and Cage at Wal-Mart to check out some patterns and fabric for a church skit. Then I did drive-through lunch on the way to Skylar's Terrific Kids Assembly while Drake grabbed a 15-minute nap in the car. Then we sat through about 45 minutes of clapping and picture-taking, brought Bart and Skylar home from school, and fed Lucy. Then I made a pie and a cake (sans the baking part - I baked it at Vanessa's), and we ran over to Vanessa and James' for dinner.
Lucy had another rough evening. She's still on her nursing strike (I'm curious as to what union babies are a part of??). Anyway, after some tears, I finally coerced her into nursing, and she fell asleep by 11:00pm or so. I've been having to trick her, by getting her to suck on her binkie and then doing the old switcheroo when she's not expecting it. Most of the time it works and she eats.
Tonight, the MOMENT I laid her down in her Moses basket, even though she had been absolutely, positively out like a light, she woke up and started to fuss. George took her and rocked her back to sleep, bless him, and here I am typing past midnight again.
Don't I ever learn?

Rainy Day Reflections

Today it really does look and feel like Fall. It's in the low to mid sixties, rainy, and the leaves are swirling madly.
I love it.
Today Lucy found her feet and worked pretty hard to get them. She's been after her knees for some time now, but no luck. Maybe this foot thing will work out for her.

Here's the email I sent to friends and family with Halloween pictures of the children.

Hey guys-

Here are some Halloween pictures of the kids. We went as characters from Star Wars. Skylar was Princess Leia, Bart was Anakin Skywalker, Drake was Darth Vader, and I was Queen Amidala. Lucy was going to be an Ewok, but we didn't get any further than the furry little hat - she kind of looks like a Russian mail-order bride, though.
And George managed to escape the whole costume thing this year due to a meeting which caused him to arrive JUST in time for our church Trunk or Treat. I made the costumes, except for the Darth Vader costume. I think it was a good choice of costume for Drake since he's already on the "Dark Side" - aka the Terrible Twos.

Anyway, Happy Halloween, everyone!

Love,

Wendy

P.S. Sorry there are so many picture attachments, but I can't get everyone to stay still long enough for a group shot!

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These next two pictures were taken a couple of weekends before Halloween. We had just gotten back from the River Bend Country Club Halloween Hayride. Members' children and grandchildren and the Girl Scouts (whose leader owns the CC) loaded onto trailers full of hay and rode up and down the golf course, trick or treating at various houses. It was a perfect night to be out. In the twilight, it was magical as we passed beneath the trees along the more wooded areas of the golf course. At one point, there was even a "real" witch waiting for us beneath the shadows of this enormous old oak tree that commanded an entire portion of the green.
Bart had to wear his knight costume from last year since I was not quite finished with his new one. He never missed an opportunity to tell someone, "I'm dressed up as a knight, but I'm really going to be Anakin Skywalker. My mom hasn't finished making my costume yet."

























These pictures below were taken at the Preschool Parade the day before. The Preschool Parade is an annual event where parents bring their preschoolers, toddlers, and babies downtown in costume. Then everyone parades en masse through the streets to Union Point Park by the Rivers. Here, sponsors have set up tables with games, crafts, info, and snacks for the children. It's a lot of fun and quaint and the children really get excited. It gets you into the spirit of Halloween. Two years ago, I brought Bart and Drake, who was about Lucy's age at the time. This year we met up with some church friends. It was quite chilly out and it just FELT like Halloween!

Back to Normal?

Today I was able to leave Lucy and Drake with Mom and Mimi for about two and a half hours. I helped out at Sky and Bart's school book fair. It was kind of nice just to have to worry about myself for a little while. I love spending time with my babies, but it is priceless to get a little breathing room sometimes. One of these days (SOON!) George and I need to go on a real date. The closest thing to a date we've had is taking Lucy with us to Red Lobster. When you have four kids, a date is defined as an event where the number of children with you is less than or equal to the number of adults.
Wednesday, Drake and Lucy had doctor appointments. Lucy is now twelve pounds - she was ten pounds at one month of age. She had four shots and an oral vaccine for rotavirus. Drake got a finger prick, and he just sat there watching as the nurse prodded the blood into the little tube. He didn't cry or anything, not until a few minutes later when the nurse had left the room and Drake realized he didn't want a the bandaid on his finger. He also got the nasal spray flu vaccine. What a brilliant idea! Honestly. He didn't even whimper.
Lucy's head is a bit flat on back, from sleeping on her back. Our other three children were tummy sleepers, but Miss Lucy loves sleeping on her back with her face turned to the right - the direction of the small window in our alcove. So I turned her Moses basket around so she would have to look left to see the window. Sneaky...but the doctor told me to. Actually, she said it was probably a good idea to go ahead and get Lucy to sleep in her crib now, since she would be outgrowing the Moses basket pretty soon. But it's so easy to put her to bed in her basket. She just loves it. Everytime we try to put her down in her crib, her eyes pop open, even if she had been fast asleep only a moment before. Personally, I think Lucy likes sleeping near George and I. I also think she's grown accustomed to the sound of George's snoring. It's like a cacophany of wild pigs rooting in garbage.....Soothing....

Date Night....Sort Of

George and I were up until midnight playing Guitar Hero. This was probably not the smartest idea, considering we both have to get up pretty early, but we had a lot of fun. George bought another guitar and remote, so we played Co-op. He played on hard and I played on easy. I resisted playing for probably six weeks because I was still slightly ticked off that he bought the thing, but finally I gave in and whaddya know? - it's a blast.
We threw a Guitar Hero party on November 1. We invited a ton of friends from church and I think everyone had a really good time. We ordered six large pizzas, I made dirt cake, and everyone brought a snack to share. There were about forty kids running around the house, tearing the playroom apart from bottom to top, but somehow, everyone managed to play. We had ten adults, and eleven kids (OK, but it felt like forty....).

GUITAR HERO PARTY

Your complete invitation is viewable for 30 days after the event. View Evite Details Add Event Photos

Enlarge image		Host: The Savitz Family Location: Savitz House 109 Gangplank Rd., New Bern, NC 28562 US View Map | When: Saturday, November 1, 4:00PM Phone: 919-648-2598 Wear your leather jacket, bring a snack, and come rock with us!

Well....

So the presidential election is over.....My first thought was to type "God help us all" and leave it at that. But then I got to thinking that that's a pretty unfair thing to write.
I cast my vote for the first time today and it was a good feeling. I have been eligible to vote in two other election years, but I didn't do so. The first time, I was pretty young and I did not know very much about the candidates, so I chose not to vote. The second time, I didn't know that I had to register in my new town in order to vote, so I couldn't. This time, I was determined to do everything I needed to in order to cast my vote. I even took all four children with me so that they could see firsthand the voting process. It took just a few minutes. I feel like this was a very important year to vote and I felt like my vote might really make a difference. I'm grateful that I live here in a country that allows all adult citizens to freely cast their vote for the leader of their country. I believe it is so important that we educate ourselves about the potential leaders of the country, and not just vote because it is expected of us.
I was able to watch the speeches of both John McCain and Barack Obama tonight and I was moved by both. I felt that McCain's was so full of emotion and a genuine love of the country. For the first time, watching the speech of a politician, I was moved almost to tears. He struck me as a man of integrity and honor. Did America make the right choice? I also respected that Obama, in his speech, asked us to give him a chance and that he said we needed to heal the divides in this country. This is true, and I sincerely hope that we will give him a chance, and that he will be able to heal the country. As much as I have hated the fact that race has been dragged into this election (when are we just going to be plain Americans, and not Native Americans, African Americans, etc.??), I realize that Obama really broke down some barriers to become president. Will he help heal the rifts in this country and not cause them to widen? I hope so. I certainly hope that this is what we need to put the ugliness and intolerance of our predecessors behind us. That's important. It needs to be done. We need to be one nation.
For the first time in an election, perhaps because I have tried to educate myself on the issues as much as possible, I feel a genuine apprehension over what the future holds. Or perhaps it's because I have four children I love more than life and I worry for their safety and well-being. Perhaps it's because as a couple, George and I have teetered on the brink of financial crisis for far too long. Perhaps it's because we know people who have lost their jobs and are teetering, too. I'm concerned. I don't know that Obama can make things better for us. But he deserves a chance, doesn't he? I mean that's what America is all about - opportunity.
So that's enough about politics from me. I'm all about giving people chances, but at the same time I'm going to go into this new era with my eyes and ears open and with an air of extreme caution. I just have a hard time believing that Obama is the answer to our problems. Would McCain have been? I just don't know about that, either. I think we need a miracle.
OK, I'm being melodramatic....maybe....

November Already??

Yes, it's officially November now. Where was I for the entire month of October?
Let's see....
I was holed up in the sewing room making Halloween costumes, that's where.
As much as I love sewing Halloween costumes (or any costumes), I am so glad that I am done with them. And this year I really took it upon myself to prove my insanity. I had the goal of sewing six costumes. Well, I sewed three and a half, bought one, and said screw it on the sixth.
I'm tired.
Oh, and I sewed my finger about two weekends ago. It broke the needle right in half and I decided that sewing at 1am is not a great idea.
Now that I'm free to spend time on pursuits other than attire-making, I guess I'm going to have to play catch-up for the month of October. This has really been a non-stop month for us.
Tonight was the Trunk or Treat and dinner fundraiser at church. I needed to be there by 5pm to help set-up, but George ended up having a departmental meeting from 4 to 5, so I had the privelege of finishing up costumes, getting myself all the children dressed and out the door, and hauling all of us plus candy buckets, bags, and assorted costume pieces into church by myself. Fun, fun, fun. At one point, I think both babies were screaming in the car while Bart was trying to explain to me some obscure bit of Star Wars-ology, but we got there pretty much on time with only a minimal amount of yelling and bribery.
I usually overplan and stress out on holidays, Halloween being one of the worst. George likes to say that we come close to getting a divorce every Halloween. Last year was miserable. It was a nice combination of my aforementioned overplanning and stressing along with George's grumpy disapproval of the whole "pointless" holiday and a general bad attitude toward what he deems as frivolity. So what if Halloween is frivolous, or even pointless? Who cares? It's the one holiday where it's OK to be rowdy and a little bit weird. I love the costumes and the candy. I love the chill in the air and the remote possibility of magic things happening.
So this year I tried to have everyone's costume made before Halloween day so we could just relax and enjoy things. Luckily the children had a teacher workday today, so we did not have to get up early. I think Lucy and I slept until 8:30 or 9am. The boys were up early of course, watching Halloween cartoons on Nickelodeon and Disney Channel. Skylar emerged from her bedroom as Lucy and I were coming down the hallway. She had her nose stuck in a book, as usual, still in her NC State PJs.
I feel kind of bad that we didn't carve a pumpkin this year, but we just really didn't have the time. I'm generally the one that initiates it, and I usually have the baby in one arm, not a good combination when there's pumpkin goo involved. We did decorate the outside of our house, however. It's actually quite nice, and it looked really pretty before my orange mums and my light purple and dark purple asters died. I don't know why the asters died - they had been really heatlhy. Who knows?
I just fell asleep typing and hit the "K" key all the way across the page. I think it's time for me to be getting to bed. I have a TON of pictures to post, though. The photo attachment feature is giving me problems, too, so I'll just wait until tomorrow to deal with it.

Saving Babies

I received this email today from the March of Dimes. This is a charity that our family supports and that I really believe in. We have raised money for the past two years for the March for Babies in the spring and hope to do so again. Our children love that we are helping to save babies. What a great mission!
I signed the petition and urge others to do so as well.

Glutton for punishment

Wal-Mart is evil. I think most of us can agree on that. So why is it that we keep going back?
I'll tell you why. It's because where else can I go to buy potting soil, three yards of fabric, diapers, steaks, a birthday pinata, Claritin, computer paper, and a new bra all at once?
Like a Hershey's chocolate bar, it keeps calling me back for more. Like a shoe sale at the mall, it drags me in to spend money that I don't really have.
I go in for mascara, I come out with zucchini, cheddar cheese popcorn, girl's High School Musical underwear, a Thomas the Tank Engine video, and new bath towels. No mascara, because I forgot to get it.
Like a black hole, Wal-Mart sucks me in, and before I know it, I am standing outside by my car four hours later with three bags and a seventy-dollar receipt, trying to figure out where the heck the time and my money went.
I think I'll get George the engineer on this one. It should make an interesting study.
And that's another thing. One time I heard George tell the kids, who were complaining about having to go with us to Wal-Mart, "Well, I don't want to go either, but we have to. Every time we go there, your mother and I almost get a divorce."
And it's true. We pull into the parking lot smiling and hopeful, shopping list in hand. We think to ourselves, "This is going to be quick. In and out. We only have a few things to get."
Then somehow, between the ten minutes it takes to park and dodging shopping carts as frantic people hurl around the aisles without watching out for other shoppers, our smiles begin to slip. Sometime while we are waiting for the three old friends to break up their reunion and move out of the middle of the cereal aisle so we can get the ("It has to be the Cars cereal, mom!") freaking breakfast cereal and get out before the baby starts wailing, and trying to hunt down someone to find out if the size one sneakers are the ONLY ones they're out of, we start to get a headache. Then, during the twenty minutes standing in line at one of the three check-out lanes open while the children beg for the multitude of candy taunting them from the racks and the cheap two-dollar toys and bottles of hand-sanitizer just within reach of their chubby little fingers, we start to lose our tempers, perhaps even threaten a spanking when a toddler refuses to continue sitting in the shopping cart and starts yelling "Stop it!" while you try to keep his stubborn little butt from toppling out. So, understandably, when your husband asks whether it's really necessary for you to buy the "seven dollar foundation" (even though when you questioned the necessity for the laser-guided scissors he purchased at Harbor Freight last week, he got huffy), you snap "They don't make anything any cheaper, unless you want me to stick my head in one of the grocery bags, which I'm sure would solve a couple of problems! Then you could collect my life insurance and marry a wife with a bigger rack!" deliberately loud enough for the cashier and the couple behind you to hear.
Of course, once you get to the car, load up your groceries, and get the kids buckled in, you begin to feel your head clear. Once you're safely out of the parking lot, you wonder what had even caused the argument in the first place. The kids are good as gold now, perhaps even asleep, if you had to make an after-dinner emergency run.
OK, Wal-mart is basically the gateway to hell.

So why, why, did I head there first thing this morning with both Lucy and Drake and a shopping list consisting of diapers and a large fake spider for Halloween? I don't know, but when I came out sixty-two dollars later at quarter past noon, I had forgotten the spider. And I bought the wrong size costume pattern because Drake was pulling the pattern drawers open and throwing the size dividers onto the floor.
So guess what? I have to go back tomorrow. But that's not even the worst part.
The worst part is that when I go back tomorrow, I have to take the wrong-sized pattern and stand in line at customer service.
How's that for a scary story?

Interesting Tune

Without getting into the deeper meaning of any of it, I'm really into this song right now:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuK2A1ZqoWs

I also found this one. Is it actually on Guitar Hero? Kinda cool anyway.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qz32F7N3wrg

What It's All About

Today Lucy absolutely made my day.
We were having the prayer at the end of Conference. I had just come back into the playroom (where we were watching Conference on the computer) from checking on dinner. As I bowed my head, I noticed Lucy was watching me from her bouncy chair. She just kept staring at me from all the way across the room, so I smiled at her. And she smiled right back at me!!
She's smiled at me loads of time over the past few weeks, but always when I was right there in front of her, never from across the room. It was so neat.
It totally made up for it later tonight when Lucy woke up from her nap and puked all over me on the way down the stairs. She had been trying all day to ruin my outfit and she finally succeeded. It's the same outfit she puked on Thursday before my Charmed Moments show, the new black shirt and jeans. This morning she almost got me twice before we left the house to go shopping. An outfit can only survive for so long against such odds.
I read over my last entry and realized how random I sounded. I guess when I look back in years to come, it'll remind me how sleep-deprived and nutty I was.
Tonight I caught part of the movie based on Nicholas Sparks' book, The Notebook. It got me thinking about my own writing career (or lack of it). At his book signing last year, I asked for some advice on getting my own work published. He advised me that I would not break into the biz with children's books (of which, I have two written but unpublished). He also advised me to consider the market and what people want to read and what was selling rather than what I might personally want to write. Which makes sense. It's just that I am just confused about the entire thing lately.
I don't even know what I want to write anymore. I feel like something is just missing or broken. I just need some inspiration, I think, in order to get myself back on track. At this point in my life, I can best relate to kids' books. I don't even feel connected to the person I was when I started writing some things that might sell quite well. I'm all muddled. I can't focus like I used to. So do I keep plugging away, or do I just give it a rest and wait until I get inspired? That could take years.
While I'm sitting here debating my life's path, George is blissfully absorbed in Guitar Hero, playing Metallica as Lou the devil, or demon, or whatever he is. The Wii has become like another member of our family. I have considered rearranging our downstairs and buying some new furniture in order to best accomodate it. You see, our family room is just not set up to give us the best playing area. It would be best if we moved our whole entertainment center along with the Wii into the playroom and bought a sofa bed (I justify this by the fact that the children could now have their sleepovers in the playroom). We could then get a smaller TV to put in the family room and move the sofas around to open the room up a bit more.
Great plan, but does anyone else see something wrong with this picture??
To get back to the topic of this post: furniture, video games, and STUFF is not "what it's all about". Sometimes you really have to stop and remind yourself of that. What is it all about?That rare, precious smile from across the room that makes you feel like a million bucks, even if you don't have two coins to rub together. Because that smile would be just as sweet if we were living in a shack, sitting on logs, and had never heard of TVs or Wiis. It might be even sweeter, because there would be less to distract me from it.
Now, the laptop. That I couldn't live without...

Reasons I Love Fall

Cool weather.
Colorful leaves.
Football (even if I don't really pay much attention to it, there's something comforting about the drone of it on the TV).
Pumpkins.
Apples.
How clear the stars are at night.
How blue the sky is during the day.
How the sunlight is golden and mellow, especially in the afternoon.
School events.
Sweaters and jeans.
Not having to shave my legs every single day.
Snuggling with my kids on the couch in the mornings because it's cold in the house.
Pretty much everything!

Well, I've made a resolution to myself. I realized that I complain too much, even when I cloak my complaints in humor. I want to start counting my blessings a lot more, not just when I say prayers at night, but all day long. That way, when some jerk cuts me off in traffic or jumps ahead of me in line (as some guy did in Chic Fil A yesterday), I won't immediately go off. I want to be a nicer person. I guess I am a fairly nice person - most people would say that I am - but sometimes I just don't feel nice. I feel downright mean. I think my kids probably think all I ever do is yell about bad drivers (although we honestly do almost get hit by senile or just plain reckless drivers at least once a week).
Today for instance, I was crossing the parking lot at Piggly Wiggly and this lady who was busy smoking started backing up as I was walking nearby. She didn't see me apparently, so I quickened my pace to get out of her way. However, she wasn't looking AT ALL, because as fast as I walked out of the way, she just kept backing up fast and almost hit me! I really couldn't believe it. When she FINALLY looked and saw that she'd almost hit me, she had the nerve to give me a dirty look, like I was inconveniencing her. So sorry, but last time I checked, watching for pedestrians while backing out is pretty darn important. How about let's put down the cigarette and just drive??
Really, though, when my kids look back on our time together, I don't want them to say, "You know, Mom sure did yell a lot."
I guess a wake up call should have been the time last year when Skylar was reading "The Secret Garden" in the car. At one point, she looked up and said, "Mom, I don't know if you want me to read this book or not. There's a bad word in it."
Well, sometimes, Skylar (thank goodness) has a very naive idea of what constitutes a bad word. For instance, she reported to me once that her friend's brother had called her friend the "i" word. "The 'i' word?" I had echoed. What the heck is the "i" word?? So I had told her to whisper it to me. This terrible word turned out to be "idiot", which is incidentally one of my favorite mutterings while driving.
So back to the "Secret Garden" incident.
With the above "i word" occasion in mind, I asked Skylar what the bad word started with. She replied "j", to which I laughed, relieved, "Oh, you mean 'jerk'." Also part of my driving mantra.
"No, mom. That's not it. It's the other word for 'donkey'."
Well. I was thoroughly rebuked. I clearly remembered the instance in the book when gruff old Ben Weatherstaff says "jackass." And yes, I am guilty of uttering that one, too, but I always thought I had done it under my breath. Apparently, children have marvelous hearing on occasion. Such as when candy is mentioned, or Christmas presents discussed, or the word ice cream spelled out. Ditto their memories when dessert or a trip to the park is promised.
So I am not mom of the year. Sometimes I yell. Sometimes I spank. Sometimes I promise a trip to the park and then realize there isn't time. And you may be asking what the heck any of this has to do with the reasons I love fall time. Well, I really don't know. Just like I don't know sometimes how it ends up being 1pm and all I've accomplished for the day is building a Lego tower, changing three poopy diapers, and putting on deodorant. And what, my husband asks me, did you do all day? Well, again, I really don't know, but whatever it was sure made me tired.
I am also apparently a puke magnet.
Last week, we were elated to put Lucy down for bed at 9:30 pm and have her sleep until 6:30 am. Nine whole hours! She woke up just long enough to eat, drench me and the Boppy with everything she had just eaten, eat again, keep it down this time, and go back to sleep. She then slept from 7:30 am to 10:30 am. I have no complaints in the sleep area.
Last night, after Young Women, Lucy puked all over me again while I was feeding her. She was lying against my shoulder while I was trying to burp her. Therefore, the Boppy got off without so much as a drop spilled, but my neck and shirt got the brunt of it. It's pretty gross having cold puke making your clothes cling to your skin.
Tonight I had my first Charmed Moments show since Lucy's birth. It was at my friend Jamie's house. She lives in Fairfield Harbour, about thirty minutes away, even though it's still in New Bern. I had plenty of time to get there. I was nursing Lucy about fifteen minutes before we needed to leave when - blahhhh - she puked everywhere. Everything she had just eaten, loads of it, all over me. It doused my new black shirt and my new jeans. It puddled on the sofa (thank goodness for leather) and I think some dripped down into the cushions. It soaked her, too, so I had to change both of us. Of course, once we were cleaned up and dressed in dry clothes, I had to feed her all over again. And then drag her out to the show. I was pretty stressed out, and more than a little sick of getting vomited on. I was also twenty minutes late getting out of the house.
I'm not sure why Lucy keeps puking up enormous amounts of her milk. I'm trying to stay away from dairy products, since almost everyone in our house has some degree of lactose intolerance, but sometimes I sneak in some or just plain forget. Two of her worst episodes have been after I have eaten a Big Mac for lunch, so I speculate whether it is the combination of the onions and the cheese, since she doesn't seem to mind when I eat a plain cheeseburger. One slice of cheese is usually OK, but ice cream or straight up milk seem to really tear her up. She's also been pretty congested lately, so I've wondered whether mucus may be making her gag and throw up her milk.
I do know that after puking, Lucy usually cracks an ear-to-ear smile. Either she is feeling loads better, or the sight of mommy covered in regurgitated milk is quite funny.
Oh, and there's another reason I love fall: cold and flu season.
(Just the tiniest bit of sarcasm, there).

Lucy's "Blessings"

Sunday was Lucy's Blessing at church, which is something that we do for babies in our church when they are born. Most churches baptize their babies, but we believe that children are not held accountable for sins, and are therefore blameless, until the age of eight. There is then no need to baptize them before then. At the age of eight, they can choose for themselves if they are ready to be baptized. We as parents hope that we have done a good job of guiding them in the right direction.
At any rate, Lucy was so quiet and good during the Blessing. I put her in the hand-smocked dress I made for her and the delicate matching bonnet I had sewed the night before in about an hour. She looked like a little angel, or a Victorian-era baby. She did not like the bonnet, though, and kept making faces and trying to turn her head and eat it.
After church, Mindy, Kevin, and the kids had to leave right away, but George's parents came back to our house for cake and early dinner. I made baked spaghetti, garlic bread, and lemon veggies. I had ordered her cake from Harris Teeter - vanilla with whipped cream icing. I requested ribbons and a purple border and letters. I had also asked for it to say "Lucy's Blessing", but they misunderstood and put "Lucy's Blessings" instead. I tried to scrape off the extra "s", but as it was whipped cream icing and not buttercream, I couldn't lift it off without smearing it. Oh, well. It tasted just fine.
Today, Mom and Mimi came to visit. They were going to watch Lucy and Drake for me while I went to the doctor for some neck and head pain I have had for over a week now. However, on the way home from shopping, my back driver-side tire went flat. I couldn't put my spare on because it is already on my front passenger-side because that tire just went flat and we are waiting to get a new set of tires. Luckily, my spare is full-size. So I missed my doctor's appointment. It is insane. I have gotten more flat tires in my two and a half years living in New Bern than I did in seven years living in Middlesex. Every few months, I get a flat. No joke. It's ridiculous.
Mom held Lucy for me while I re-potted some asters and pansies I had just bought and transplanted my rosemary and mint into the ground. The house across the street put out a trio of grinning jack-o-lanterns today, so I figured it's time to get our fall decor out, too. I had hoped to do it on Sunday, but no luck. It took too much time to make dinner and clean up from it, not to mention catch up on the eighty loads of laundry waiting for me so the kids could have clean uniforms for school.
Mom and Mimi took me shopping for a late birthday present (prior to the flat tire incident). We just went to Target, but I found so many adorable things: two-tone menswear-inspired heels, a gray sweater dress, a black lace-tiered tunic, a sweater-jacket with a fleece-lined hood, elbow-length tee, a cotton blouse (Xtra Small!!!yippee!!), and a pair of six dollar jeans. The jeans are a size 6, and I am normally a size 2. I have a little more baby weight to lose, so I refuse to buy any pants that aren't stretchy or super-inexpensive. Still, I haven't bought new clothes in months, so it was great, even if I had to swallow my pride and get the tee and lace tunic in a size Large. I told my mom that was incentive to make me lose those extra two pants sizes. We had Chinese for dinner though, and I pigged out, so I doubt the last few pounds are going to be coming off any time soon.

A Good Cause

While reading our River Bend email list tonight, I came across this email forwarded to the group by a fellow River-Bender. It's about the wild horses on Corolla. It includes links to visit, including one where you can sign an e-petition in support of the horses. It strikes close to my heart since Bart is such a lover of horses. I have been wanting to take him out to see the wild horses. I hope I still will be able to in the future. (That's Bart above at age 4 with his favorite toy, "Silverhorn" the horse).

> Subject: Corolla wild horses facing genetic crisis
> Date: Mon, 29 Sep 2008 19:46:53 -0400
>
> Please spread the word. This isn't just a nameless, faceless herd, this is
> a part of history, personified by my own Corolla Banker Horses, Black Bart
> and Mini Vinnie. Bart and Vinnie came to live with us in July, and they are
> truly amazing horses - Bart is an intact stallion, caught from the wild on
> May 6 when he was seriously injured, and he's one of the most docile, most
> agreeable and most trainable horses I've ever encountered - of any breed,
> any gender. Vinnie is a little character, two years old, smart, funny, full
> of mischief with with a mind like a steel trap. This herd is one of the
> oldest - possibly THE oldest surviving Colonial Spanish herd from the era of
> the Conquistadors. They have made their home on the NC Outer Banks for over
> 500 years - we don't want to lose them now.
>
> From Karen McAlpin, Director of the Corolla Wild Horse Fund:
>
> "I wanted to make you all aware of what is shaping up to be the most
> critical issue ever faced by the wild horses of Corolla. They have survived
> centuries of hurricanes, nor'easters, insects, droughts, floods, and
> development - but they will not continue to survive if USFWS and the NC
> Estuarine Research Reserve continue to insist on a herd size of 60. Recent
> DNA testing has indicated a high level of inbreeding and low genetic
> diversity - a genetic bottleneck. We need to increase the herd size to a
> healthy 120. Our request has been denied.Please go to our website for more
> information and how you can help to save these heritage Colonial Spanish
> horses. http://www.corollawildhorses.com/genetic_crisis.html . We need
> national as well as state support. I hope to have thousands of responses by
> our October 15 meeting with USFWS and NCERR. Please, don't stand by and
> allow our government to position this herd for extinction."
>
> Karen goes on to say:
>
> "Also, if you are not already aware of it, there is a move to amend the
> Unified Development Ordinance to allow commercial development in the 4 wheel
> drive area. If the genetic issue does not push the wild horses to
> extinction, this surely will. It is scheduled for the November 17 BOC
> meeting. If ever there was a time to speak up for the horses - this is it -
> not after they are gone. First commercialization, then - a road. For more
> information go to: http://www.northernouterbanks.blogspot.com/ "
>
> You can also sign an e-petition at
> http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/SaveTheWildHorsesOfCorolla/index.html
>
> My boys will never return to the beach, but I'm sure they appreciate
> anything you can do for their relatives. I know that I sure will.
>
> Thanks for your help, and please forward this. Their time could be running
> out.
>
>
> Karen Thomas, NC

Wii are at odds

I suppose I forgot to mention a major development in our pathetically comical lives.
The Wii.
George and Bart have been wanting a Wii forever. I tried getting one for George last Christmas, but it was really hard to find one and also, it cost a little more than I could spend on him at the time. So I bought him a used PSP on Ebay, which he absolutely loves. He plays it nearly every night to unwind before bedtime. So I definitely had decided to find a Wii for him and Bart this Christmas.
However, one Tuesday night three weeks ago, George insisted on taking Skylar to her 7:15 tap class. I would take Bart to his 7pm karate class. When I got to karate with Bart and Lucy, our friend James asked why George wanted to take Sky to dance, as it was a bit unusual. I got to thinking about it and I replied that it was odd that he had been so insistent.
I should have known!
When we got home, George confessed that he and Drake had gone out while Sky was in class and bought a Wii and Guitar Hero.
The nerve!
Earlier that night at dinner, he kept saying he was going to go out and get a Wii, and asked what I would do if he came home with one. I told him I would make him take it right back and the only way he could have one right now is if it was free or $50. Well....
I didn't make him take it back. He was so excited! He had been saving up for it for six months. And he did buy me a really nice (used) Bernina sewing machine for Mother's Day. Honestly, I don't begrudge him things. I only get frustrated because he gives me such a hard time over every single thing I buy or want. I have always not really minded when he makes occasional frivolous purchases, because I do, too, sometimes. It just makes me mad when he gives me a hard time about how much my haircuts/colorings cost or when I need to spend money to buy a new maternity wardrobe because my last pregnancies were in an entirely different season!
That really bugs me.
So I've been trying to be supportive. I just wish I didn't have to keep reminding him to be as forgiving/supportive with me. Maybe if I had it screen-printed on the butt of my pants he might pay attention. Maybe I'll design a line of pants with things on the rear like, "Take out the trash", "Put the lid down", and "Not tonight".
Really, I used to be a romantic.

One of Those Weeks

It's Friday night...I think. All week, I've been a day off schedule. For some reason, I thought that Lucy's one month doctor appointment was Thursday. Actually, it was Wednesday. I thought my one month OB appointment was today. Actually, it was yesterday. So I missed both appointments by an entire day. Luckily, the pediatrician was able to fit Lucy in this morning, but my OB can't see me until the end of October. I asked the scheduling lady if it was safe for me to wait so long to see the doctor after delivery. She asked if I was doing OK, if there was anything wrong with me. Well, I told her I didn't think so, but really, how would I know for sure without seeing the doctor?
Like I said, one of those weeks.
My friends Vanessa and Melissa threw a baby shower for me tonight. It was really nice. They made the yummiest desserts and we had a good turn-out. It was low-key and fun. Lucy got some really pretty gifts that I just cannot wait to try on her.
Ever since we got home Lucy has been so fussy. She threw up in her Moses basket, so I had to change the sheet and tomorrow I'm going to have to wash all the padding. I have nursed, rocked, and patted all night. She just keeps waking up and fussing. I suppose it's going to be one of THOSE nights. At least I haven't gotten puked on yet, and the Moses basket was the one to get it. Last week, I got puked on so many times it was ridiculous. I remember one evening when George and I were trying to recapture some of the lost intimacy of the past several months. While we were kissing, all I could think was "I wonder if he can smell the puke in my hair?" It struck me as so incredibly funny/revolting that I began to giggle hysterically, but I was luckily able to stifle it at the last minute and play it off like I was just enjoying myself.
Honestly, who can feel up to being sexy when you are dead tired, still fat enough to wear your "skinny" maternity jeans, leaking milk, and wearing the unmistakable whiff of infant poo/puke/both? And how blind must a husband be to find his wife sexy at such a time? True love, I wonder, or sheer desperation borne of four to six weeks of enforced celibacy? I leave it to you to decide.
Sunday is Lucy's blessing at church. We decided only this week that we would go forth with her blessing now. Due to General Conference, we will not be going to church the first Sunday in October, so the next closest date was the first Sunday in November. However, I took a good look at the hand-smocked blessing dress I made for Lucy and decided that if we waited until November to do it, she would not be able to wear the dress. And I put hours of work into that dress and picked out dozens of stitches in order to get them just right. So this Sunday it is, short notice or not.
Pictures will follow.
P.S. Mindy took the two older children to her place to spend the next two nights. Bless her.

One More Day

Oh my goodness. This has been a week to end all weeks. I'm so exhausted. I don't remember being this exhausted with any of the other three children. I guess it's because I've never had a two year old and a newborn together at the same time before. I feel like a walking zombie.
And to make matters worse, George is still having health issues. He has been having this fluttering in his heart area over the past couple of weeks. He went to the doctor last week and had an EKG. Nothing. Today he went again and is wearing a heart monitor. He has to go back tomorrow. But he has these episodes that make him dizzy and tired. He's not feeling well. And I'm out of steam by the time he gets home from work. And Baby Lucy is fussy at night. All in all, a recipe for some tears all around.
Oh, and I've been a little sick this week with a sore throat and cough. I think that's why Lucy is fussier than usual this week. I think I passed my sore throat on to her. She's been sounding hoarse when she cries, and has even had a little bit of a raspy cough. Luckily, my symptoms were mostly gone after about two days. However, two days of a fussy baby can be total hell.
Don't get me wrong. She's great. She has been going to be between ten and eleven pm. Then she wakes up around 3am to eat, and again around 6am. Then she gets up around 7:30 because George and the kids are making noise while they get ready for school and work. So I feed her and I can usually get her back in bed by 8 or 8:30. Then she sleeps until around 10 or 10:30 am. I have been getting a quick shower in the playroom bathroom or catching a (much interrupted by Drake) nap on the sofa. Drake and I usually have time to eat a leisurely bowl of oatmeal together and play cars or trains. I'll make a phone call or two if I need to. And sometimes, I'll just sit there on the sofa with my mouth open and completely zone out to the music of Wonder Pets or Backyardigans. I have had the theme song from Higglytown Heroes or Little Einsteins stuck in my head almost constantly for the past three days. Right now, I'm singing Little Einsteins in the back of my mind. It has a slightly insane lilt to it.
OK...so then, once Lucy wakes up from her morning nap, I try to get us out of the house for a little while. Which usually means we don't get out before 11am, which leads to eating lunch out. Not healthy by any means, but at least I can eat lunch. If we head home, it's always a toss up whether Lucy will sleep or sit nicely in her swing/carrier/bouncy chair while I bolt down a sandwich or hot dog. And it's hard to keep Drake from yelling and waking her up. Or throwing something at her head. Yesterday, he threw a plastic motorcycle and a blue Lego car at her head in rapid succession while I was changing her diaper. Both were new toys from his party. Both ended up on top of the refrigerator in time out in just as rapid succession.
So we go out. And I spend money. But I'm less stressed (at least for the moment). It's a vicious cycle. Maybe if I were less tired, I wouldn't mind being a little stressed out. I'm trying to just slow down and enjoy this nutty, sleep-deprived infant stage. I know I probably will not get another one. So I need to savor this one, right?
Again, I digress.
We have our lunch en route. Then we get home. The baby naps in her carrier while I read and snuggle and put Drake to bed. We read pretty much the same books day in and day out: Me and My Dad (which he calls "Dadas and Babies"), Five Little Bats ("Bats"), Where Does It Park ("Choo-choos" because of the picture of the train on the cover), Bridges ("Bridges" - go figure), Planets ("Pants"), or in the evenings, there's Harry Potter ("Potty") with Bart.
We read two books at naptime, sometimes three if Lucy is sleeping soundly. Then when I finally get Drake in his toddler bed, he insists that I kneel down beside him and put my head on the bed facing him. "Mama yay" he insists, or in non-baby talk, "Mama lay". So I lay my head down facing him I try to get a kiss from him, or he asks me what each part of my face is called. He points to my eyes, or my nose, or my cheeks and asks what each one is. Then we have the Sunshine War. It all started when I began calling Drake "Sunshine". He insists, "Mama sunshine," but I insist "Drakey sunshine," and so it goes until one of us loses interest or I sneak a kiss from him and he tries to get the kiss back. Ah, I know if I don't write these little things down, I will forget them.
Finally, I am able to evade the pleas of "Mama yay" and retreat out the door. There is usually a prolonged exchange of kisses blown, "Bye-byes" and "Night-nights" all the way down the upstairs hall.
Usually by then I have just enough time to go to the bathroom before Lucy wakes up and I give her lunch. Then she takes a nap. Lately since the weather has been so nice, I have been putting her in her swing outside in the shade. She sleeps really well outdoors and then I can get some fresh air, too.
When the big children get off the bus, Lucy is usually napping. So I can help them with their homework and get dinner started. Monday through Wednesday we have afterschool activities, so we have to kind of rush, but Thursday and Friday are nice. The kids can play outside and I can relax (sort of).
After dinner, Lucy gets kind of fussy. It's not too bad. I can feed her or rock her to sleep usually. Sometimes George puts her in the Pea Pod (the sling carrier), which usually soothes her to sleep. Between ten and eleven, she usually settles in for the night, until her 3 or 4 am feeding. I don't really get much done during the day, but it makes you grateful for the small things, like showers and breakfast that is still vaguely warm.

Free For All

This evening was Drake's 2nd birthday party. I spent a good deal of time baking two layers of his birthday cake. This morning, I finished icing it and I was quite proud of it. It turned out very well, even if I had to improvise because the Wilton Thomas the Tank Engine cake pan is discontinued. Still, by the time I bought the $15 cake pan and all the powdered sugar and Crisco, I probably could have just bought a cake. Although, for a really good one from Harris Teeter with my favorite whipped cream icing, I think I paid about $30 for Bart's.
In my last post I think I foolishly said I expected the party to be low-key. Was I kidding myself? We had so many kids running around, I'm sure our neighbors want to kill us now. I keep forgetting that just with our best friends, we have 10 children between us. Then we add other friends and family. So, we had 16 children and I think 19 adults. I don't know. It was pretty hard to keep track.
Drake the party-boy had been cranky all day, so we put him down for a nap and let him SLEEP for as long as he wanted. Which was a long time. We finally had to send Skylar up to wake him after his party guests began to arrive at 4pm. When he saw that his friends were arriving, Drake ran right outside to the back porch, where the presents were. He was wearing no pants and his diaper was so wet, it was hanging off his butt. He went straight for the presents and grabbed the Thomas trike Renee had bought him. It was not wrapped, so he started playing with it at once.



So, we started out by letting the children play with the splash rocket sprinkler. Well, Drake went out in his regular diaper and ended up being just filthy. The children had a blast under the sprinkler, though. Then we ate hot dogs for dinner and had cake. We opened presents and played under the sprinkler some more. Then we let the kids hit the pinata Mom had brought and filled with all sorts of goodies. It's a miracle that no one was knocked out during that escapade. We had a few close calls. It's a fact of life that when a pinata is involved, you have to start swinging the bat before everyone is out of the way. What is amazing to me is that George actually stood there holding the pinata from a length of PVC while he let 16 kids under the age of 10 take swings at it with a real baseball bat. Fearless? Or sadly clueless? You be the judge.
When the pinata was finally bludgeoned into yielding up its goodies (Skylar and Bart's friend Kory did the honors), the children rushed it and scooped up armfuls of Smarties and lollipops and little toys. It was all pretty crazy.


On top of everything, instead of the glorious 80 degree weather we've been having, this weekend it's in the sub-tropical 90's, and disgustingly humid, too. It was so nasty outside, and there were legions of flies. I know the children were in hog heaven, tearing through the yard barefoot and in their swimsuits, but we adults were sweaty and miserable. George smelled like a litterbox when he ended up coming in. He said to me, "Great, so you're telling me I smell like two-day old cat piss?" Well, yes, that's pretty much what he smelled like. But he sweated more than any of us because he was at the grill.
It was kind of just a kid free-for-all, but I think kids enjoy it that way. If you try to structure them too much in their play time, I think play time loses some of its excitement. They get enough structure in school. The extent of my rules were to wipe your feet before going into the house and let the birthday boy open his own presents, thank you. Oh, and Bart could only eat two pieces of candy (he's going to the dentist in a week or so).
Lucy slept most of the time. I nursed her once before the party, and only once during it. The party started at 4pm, but I don't think the last guests left until 7:30 at least, so it was a long day for all involved. As you can see from the pictures above, she got passed around from person to person. She was a very good baby and I owe my partial sanity to the fact that she did sleep so well and allowed me to run the party. I also should say thanks to all the people who held her, to Mom for bringing the pinata and candy, to my kids for helping clean up, and to George for meekly doing what I ordered in preparation for the party. Thanks!!