LOST A SOCK

In the spirit of not making Christmas last through April

Because honestly, I think I've got enough blog fodder saved in my brain to post daily Christmas entries for at least that long. 

And now a disclaimer: It's a shame that we're always so busy doing Christmasy things to document all of the Christmasy things we've been doing.  And for that reason, I am going to cram as much Christmas into one entry as I can get.  I wish you luck.  Mostly I'm sure my immediate family will make it to the end of our seventeen Christmas celebrations, and possibly that is all.

I'm a huge celebrator of seasons and holidays and...everything.  In the summer we spend afternoons at the beach and hiking trails and running through splash-pads.  In the fall we walk in the leaves and pick pumpkins and take day-trips to the most colorful places we can find.  And Christmas?  Is no different.  I try to make it feel like Christmas every day around here from the minute I pull out the holiday decorations a heartbeat past Thanksgiving (or, um, earlier this year, oopsie) with baking and Christmas movies, oohing and ahhing over twinkling lights around town and singing more holiday tunes than my poor husband can sanely handle.

 

KJ constructed his annual gingerbread house

 

and Jack made chocolate-covered candy-sprinkled pretzels with Kevin's aunt and uncle.

 

KJ baked cookies with my mom

while Jack refused his apron, refused the mixer, and hid quitely in her fridge until it was time to taste the cookie dough.  (Note to self: Read the story of The Little Red Hen to middle child.)

 

All this while Marin donned her apron and contemplated the iniquities of being a three month old on baking day.  (Better luck next year, baby.)

I helped coordinate KJ's school Christmas party

  

and dressed up Ralphie and Randy for the snow more times than I care to count.  

Then, finally, we reached the beginning of the Christmas parties.  First with my mom's extended family the weekend before Christmas, next with Kevin's family on Christmas Eve, then our own fun on Christmas morning, and then Christmas afternoon at my mom and dad's house. 

 

On Christmas morning I sat the kids in front of the tree & presents before we began opening, and had one of those blissful Wow, I Have Three Now! moments that I assume all parents have from time to time, where you wonder how you got so old and responsible all of a sudden when just yesterday you were carelessly hanging out with friends on your cluttered dorm room floor, begging your sober roommate to serve as the DD for a 3am to the local truck stop for scrambled eggs and bacon.  I swear when my parents had three (and then four) of us they seemed infinitely older (sorry guys) and like they were sure they knew what they were doing (and now at thirty I'm totally calling their bluff.)

 

Everyone got exactly what they were hoping for, including KJ who received some form of his coveted Lego Mars Mission (some form being not the ninety dollar one, but one that made him happy enough to build it immediately on Christmas morning with great excitement)

(before deconstructing it the very next day to mix it in with the other eight gazillion legos he owns, to build something entirely different).

This, I believe, shall be the Christmas that goes down in history as The One With All The Legos and Trains - the above Geotrax collection being a collaborative effort of both paternal and maternal grandparents, and one S. Claus.  (Not to forget the Thomas Movement that is happening in our lower level family room -- I have designated the upstairs for Geotrax and downstairs for Thomas, welcome to Out-of-Hand-ville.)

I think that every parent will tell you that Christmas is the absolute best time to have young children.  Everything is magical, and fun and exciting (and I assume less complicated than having teenagers, no?)  The last several days of lego construction, train track assembly, and even house cleaning has been nothing short of just perfect, wonderful and memorable.  (God help me I know I'll be beaten if I go into Motherhood Euphoria again, so I'll save you the speech.  But I'm thinking it!)

 

Hope you all had a wonderful holiday also.   

(Also, I've finally been playing catch-up with flickr over the last several days, determined to complete my 2008 picture collection before the year is up.  Lots new there.)

Merry Christmas

 

May your days be merry, and bright. 

In which I realize there is no shortage of gift options for my child

Tis the season for serious marketing strategies aimed at children, yes?  There are toy ideas for kids everywhere at Christmastime.  And if your kids are anything like mine (okay, specifically my two-year-old, Jack) damn near every television commercial invokes an, "I WANT THAT FROM SANTA!"  This is the first year he really "gets it" and boy howdy, he's going to take this new understanding of Christmas morning for a ride.

So Jack and I are sitting on the couch together watching the televised version of How The Grinch Stole Christmas the other day, and I'm lost in the pages of my latest read watching intently, and forget to skip forward through the barrage of commercials.  I look up to notice a Lubriderm commercial warning of the dangers of cracked elbows, and just as I hit the Skip button my child announces,

"Mom, when I have elbows I want THAT for Christmas!"

Twas the week before Christmas

Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the house,

not a creature was sleeping, thanks to the three-month-old mouse.

The ornaments were hung (over and over) on the trees with great care,

still hoping for Lego Mars Mission to be there.

The children still putting off bedtime past ten,

while visions of actually meeting the fat man in the red suit well past midnight dance in their heads.

The mother is tired, the father is too,

now Jack has a fever, I hope not the flu.

Then up in the bedrooms arose such a clatter,

I stopped washing dishes to yell, "NOW what's the matter?"

"Oh nothing, dear mother. We're just playing blocks."

"And diving through clean folded laundry and socks."

Up to the bedrooms to assess the scene,

while the children protest that I'm no fun and mean.

Refold the whites, purples, reds and blues too,

back in the baskets before I kill you.

Time to bake cookies, see lights and wrap gifts,

plan kindergarten parties and one last field trip.

Christmas is fun, a special time of the year,

though busy and crazy and calls for much vodka tequila beer.

Our vacuum has broken, our car's in the shop,

I sprained my right foot, and now I must hop.

This year I'd like a maid, and sleep, and more time,

to have all three I would trade my last dime.

The gifts still not wrapped but the cards made it out,

"Almost done shopping," I excitedly shout!

On Weight Loss Wednesday I now take a pass,

the New Year shall find me still with fat ass.

There will be time in January, February and March too,

to eat almost nothing but tofu and poo.

But for now I eat cake and ohhhhh cookie dough

and hot chocolate and donuts after shoveling snow.

The holiday parties have now all begun,

with crackers and cheeses and beef on a bun.

Oh good Lord how did this rhyme turn to food?

It began about Christmas and a jolly red dude.

We're busy and happy, enjoying the season,

with family and friends for every good reason.

So now do forgive me, I really must fly,

the baby is fussing and I need some pie.

I hope that you, too, are enjoying your days,

Merry Christmas a tad early,

love, all of us Rays.

Now I've Seen Everything

(Pull up a chair.  Grab some cheese to go with this whine.)

I don't know if I've mentioned that our whole damn house has been sick for a couple weeks now?  HOLY HELL have we ever.  We've had more doctor visits for more types of illnesses than I could have ever imagined a series of five people could be stricken with in such an itty bitty window of time.  In just fifteen days?  Three hundred and fourteen dollars in doctor co-pays and prescriptions. 

Thankfully, the boys and I are just about through our innumerable plagues, and just when I thought I'd never have a voice again, viola, she has returned.  Though, Kevin decided to take his turn with the sinus crap after all, so just as we are becoming well he is blowing his nose every twelve seconds and snoring like a damn grizzly bear.  (I've mentioned I'm only clocking three hours of sleep at night as it is per the THREE MONTH OLD WHO SHOULD BE SLEEPING SOMETHING BETTER THAN THIS BY NOWWWWW, yes?)

Last but not least, I thought Marin had finally cleared the thrush as it magically dissapeared when she began her (second type of) medication for it.  But seven days into the meds?  It's baaaack.

I called her pediatrician (who I've been seeing more regularly than my own spouse) and was told that I would need to bring the baby into the office (and subsequently the boys as well so that they could be exposed to thirty-seven thousand other types of germs in the waiting room.) 

I had to bring the baby in so that the doctor could paint her mouth purple. 

It was the only answer after an absolute failed week of Nystatin and successful, then failed week of Diflucan. 

 

Doctor says her mouth should stay purple, and oh is it ever, for a couple days.  Just in time for us to spend a weekend in public.  Explaining how much our three month old loves a good grape Tootsie Pop.  Or Crayola markers?   (Though seriously, I just learned that some doctors are not quite as neat wtih the stuff, thankingmyluckystars.)

May this be the last of it, and may we manage to be healthy for Christmas.  (We were totally getting it out of the way, right?)

Weight Loss Wednesday: Now with real Weight Loss

Whenever I start out one of these WLW entries, I have a difficult time deciding where to start.  Get it over with and give the poundage details?  Surely, not.  There has to be something first.  Right?  But what, is the question.

 

Delectable baby in bunny slippers. 

Perfect.

(You're catching on that, OMG I LOVE THIS BABY, aren't you?) 

(Okay, catch on also that OMG I am so effing burned out on not sleeping day or night, but yes, also, I seriously adore this baby.) 

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming:

This week’s loss: 4.2

Total loss: -14.2

Left to goal: 41.6

I knew after blowing it over last holiday weekend that I would need to come out of the gate swinging, so I stuck to my points in the most hard-core way possible, minus Sunday night's Festival of Friends, Pizza and Holy Cripes Chocolate Eclair Dessert. (Always with the one Let-Loose Meal per week, remember?  Does a mental state good.)

And in the interest of being honest...I am still dragging myself through every day, every meal with this diet.  I don't particularly WANT to pass on the holiday cookie dough, girl scout cookies that have been in my freezer for a month, or this latest creation by my six-year-old:

 

Yes, son. I too would have liked to devour it whole.

But I've kept going in the interest of the greater good.  It's not like there's really much of a reason for me to NOT eat healthy, other than constant cravings for sugar, sugar, sugar, and bread.  I just really don't feel like dieting during the holidays.  Or ever.

I just keep hoping that as long as I continue pulling myself through the motions, that momentum will eventually pick up and I'll be glad I did this.  I know I felt great in between babies two and three, for sure.

One thing I have been giving some thought to, now a month into this diet, is exercise.  I spend the vast majority of my days in the house with the kids, especially now that the cold has arrived, so the option for exercise here is fairly limited (unless you count the constant running for laundry -- have you ever kept up with the dirty clothes of a family of five, including one reflux baby and three ketchup addicts??) 

In the best case scenario, we would buy a treadmill for the house.  That way I could sneak in twenty minutes here or there while all three children are occupied simultaneously (haaaaa hahahahahahahahaha) without worrying about who can babysit for me.  But two weeks before Christmas, Jack's birthday and double car insurance due dates is hardly the time to make a major purchase. 

I've also looked back into the more expensive gym in town that I once belonged to, but I can neither justify the crap-assed careless babysitter nor the eighteen month contract.  Lastly, and possibly The Only Hope For Gym Time If There Shall Be Any, is the twenty-bucks-a-month-place a few miles away.  I could go on Saturday mornings when Kevin is home, which would be better than nothing.  Though when I called, I learned that twenty bucks a month is code for twenty bucks a month plus one month pre-paid plus another fifty for a start-up fee.  And, actually, they initially refused to give out those extra pre-paid rates over the phone, insisting that I come in to get all of the information, and then I gave them my song and dance about packing up three small children TO GET GYM PRICING?  Are you kidding me?  Then I guessed and guessed and guessed at the extra expenses until BINGO! THE BROAD CAVED! 

Ahem.

Do you work out?  (Feel free to laugh at that question should the mood strike you.)  But if you do, how often?  And do you Sweat To The Oldies in your living room, or belong to a gym?  (And also, is your gym shady with their hidden costs?  Booooo, hissss.)

Three?! Could it be? (Oh yes it could.)

Guess who turns three months old today?

 

Three! months!

It has occurred to me that this child?  Is going to grow up on me, just like her brothers.

 

And she's so excited about it, too.

 

At three months old, Marin Ann weighs 13 pounds, 6 ounces, and is 23 inches long.  She smiles like crazy, and coos, goos and gahs through most of her waking hours.  She has recently learned to put her hands together and happily stuffs them in her mouth at every opportunity, and is beginning to grab hold of the toys that dangle from her baby gym. 

 

She really likes to watch her brothers as they breeze past her in the most noisy, speedy, entertaining ways,

 

and I believe she is learning to take advantage of her place in the family as The Youngest Daughter.

  

Whoopsie! Sorry Jack! Did I just KICK YOU SQUARE IN THE FACE?   

 

Though on the flip side of that, she's learning to tolerate pretend karate chops to the forehead and such (what Jack refers to as WHACK-E-CHAAAAS. I don't get it either.)  

 

Yes, Marin is a happy baby.  Happy happy happy all day long. 

And all night too.  

Because do you know what she does at night?  Still at three months of age?  She wakes up!  And stays up!  For hours on end!  Beeeeeing haaaaaappy.  (When her mother?  Not so much with the happy.)  

Through three children now, I have waited to bear The Sleeper Child.  KJ never slept at night.  Never, ever ever ever ever, oh my God how awful it was.  Jack?  Not so much with the sleep, either.  Neither of those children ever slept through the night, not even once, until well past their first birthdays.  Now, I will give all three of them credit for being good nappers (both Jackson and Marin willing to nap only in their respective baby swings, but sleeping nonetheless,) but as for sleep during the night?  So very sketchy, still.  Sometimes she will surprise me with a solid three hour block at night, but in exchange will play for an hour and a half to follow. 

She continues to take two or three feedings during the course of what I would consider her night, usually staying awake through that middle time-slot.  And hot damn, she wants nothing more than to smile and coo and watch recorded Oprah shows with me at three a.m. every stinking night.

 

Mockery.

 

Beyond the Sleep Issue, the other thing that made me nervous about having an actual crew of children, as opposed to just a pair, was all of the germ sharing that inevitably takes place. 

With my first two, I became accustomed to passing colds back and forth, so much so that runny noses, in my mind, aren't even notable anymore.  I worry more about things like respiratory infections, ear infections, chills and fevers, pink eye, the cold flu, and thrush.  

And do you know what we've experienced this week?  

Am not kidding - we have all of the above. 

From start to finish, all three kids and I have some version of sinusy-respiratory-sore throat-fever-chills-body aches.  Then in addition, KJ went the ear infection route while Jack opted for pink eye (a new one for our family! Go Jack! And also, I assume I can thank the McDonald's playland gahhhh if there was somewhere else to get exercise in the winter), and just before Thanksgiving Marin took on oral thrush as her plague of choice, and is just now finally getting over it with her second medication.

Walgreens is bleeding my bank account and dancing on my debit card, I promise you.

(Also, good thing we got our flu shots this year, right?  Oh, wait...)

 

On a positive note, doll-baby Marin will never miss a day of school in her entire life, having been exposed to every damn childhood virus available in her first three months of life. 

And though it may seem otherwise when I discuss our Fun with Exhaustion and Various Diseases, I can't begin to say how happy I am to have three children.  I feel like I really have the hang of it in just three months' time, and what a dynamic our newest little pumpkin has added to our family.  It took some re-defining of who we are and where we are headed as a group and as individuals, concessions as to how long it should and does actually take a mother and three young children to prepare for exiting the house during the winter, and most certainly we are all learning more patience and turn-taking.  But at this point, with children ages six, almost three, and three months old, I am blown away by how blissfully happy I am with my life. 

(Oh don't deny it - you know you love when I end a blog entry all trippy and euphoric.  Mmmm babies, I love me some babies...  Consider me so the advocate of embiggening your family, now.)

Weight Loss Wednesday: The Pilgrims Made Me Do It

I know, I know.  I've got baby weight to lose.  And you're wondering if I happened to lose any of it over the holiday weekend. 

The short answer?

Stuuuuuufffffffffffinnnnnnnnnng.

Thanksgiving loss gain: +2.0

Total loss: -10

Left to goal: 45.8

You know, in all of the Thanksgiving storybooks I've been reading to the kids over the last couple weeks, I have heard a lot about corn and vegetables and fish and such being prepared for that first Thanksgiving dinner, but never did I read the part where those friendly Indians dropped by with a loaf of Velveeta to melt over the Cali Blend, or a tub of sour cream, couple sticks of butter and bag of sharp cheddar to throw into the nine by thirteen of cubed potatoes.  

Boy were they missing out. 

We celebrated Thanksgiving on Thursday at my mom and dad's house, and then Sunday at Kevin's mom's house.  And I enjoyed every bite.  All seventeen thousand of them. 

I have no regrets, having decided to participate fully in the holiday weekend that rolls around once a year.  In the grand scheme of a long-term weight loss plan, a couple days off is a tiny blip on the screen.  And truth be told?   It would have been awful to have missed out on the damn stuffing and green bean casserole.  I love holidays.  I'll happily wear my gain this week.

So I'm back to counting points.  I went back on Monday morning, and will admit that I was sad.  After eating whatever I pleased for two days, I absolutely wanted to quit.  Maybe until after the new year, I thought.  Maybe it doesn't really matter anyway?

But it does.  I know it does.  So meal by meal I dragged myself through Monday and was feeling more Game-On yesterday.  In fact, by dinnertime last night I was even happy to stand outside in a blustery twenty-seven degrees, grilling little pork chops in the snow.  (Well, grilling them on the grill, but with snow all around.  You know.)

So what was your Thanksgiving like?  What was your favorite dish this year?

Peaks and Valleys

One year ago,

 

I had just completed painting our new house.  

   

And was still doing whatever I could to sell our old house.

 

One year ago we were learning how to swing two houses and their respective payments and upkeeps, while attempting to still have a Christmas.

 

One year ago we were shoveling the snow at our new house, and then at our old house.

 

Six months ago my shock was turning to complete excitement.  

But we were pulling out our hair wondering how we would swing it all, with two houses and a new baby.

 

Five months ago we concocted a new plan. 

It was pretty much our only option, and our hope to climb out of the hole we had been digging.  We were so nervous about whether it would work out, whether it was the right decision, whether we had what would be required of us to try moving forward, second house still in tow.

 

Today we have a happy, chubby-cheeked almost three month old baby who is a dead ringer for her Daddy.  We have spent the last five months re-gaining our footing and taking a breather from the stresses of day-to-day caring for two homes. 

Today we have no doubts that we made the best decision for what has happened with the economy, to hang on to the old house until its value returns. 

Today I shoveled snow at only one house, and I did not give a second thought to how we would afford a nice Christmas this year. 

Today is the first of the month, and when our renter came by to drop off his rent payment in our mailbox, he called from the end of our driveway to ask if I'd like him to run it to the front door so that I wouldn't have to trudge through the snow later, to retrieve the check from the mailbox. 

Several weeks ago they brought home their new baby to our old house-- their current home, and several weeks from now they will celebrate their first Christmas there as a family of four.  Today I realized again, as I have many times over the last five months, that we have been blessed with the absolute best case scenario. 

We really are finally okay.