LOST A SOCK

Better days

This post was almost titled The No Bullshit Adoption Disclaimer.  Two days ago I wanted to come here and scream from the tops of my angry lungs, that anyone who was here to mock my family, disapprove of my family or dislike my family for the recent decision we made to grow our family, with, yes oh yes, a baby from Africa, needed to just leave.  I told a girlfriend of mine, at one point, that I was going to have a bright white t-shirt made for wearing as I walked down every street and through every store aisle that simply read Fuck You in bold lettering.  I felt hot-cheeked, ear-smoking mad at the whole country for a little while (hello, misdirected anger) because I could neither believe nor accept that we are still judging people based on the color of their skin in such a free, opportunity-filled place as the United States in the year 2010.  I was hurting for my baby, and hoo boy, I was pissed. 

I took time to work through it, and I found solice in those closest to me.  And I let it go.  Being angry or holding on to sorrows will hurt only myself and my family in the long run, and I want most of all to put my energy into what is good in the world, and to focus on our baby, our orphanage, our life's newest purpose.  There are people around me, both physically and all over the World Wide Web who have extended their hands and hearts to us (you guys!) and that support is more valued than I can ever explain, most especially in the midst of life's thunderstorms. 

I posted news to my facebook account early today, that our adoption application was accepted and we are now on the fast track to our baby.  Then the kids and I headed out to spend an afternoon with some of our homeschool friends-- one family, ironically, who is also looking to adopt internationally.  Kids from Marin's tiny size all the way through age ten or twelve, black and white, spent the afternoon playing together, and I swore that all felt right with the world again.  I hope this incredible, yet simple afternoon is what I remember most after a difficult few days.

Then I returned home to an inbox full of supportive comments and excited emails.  It was like Christmas morning, friends. 

For as long as I live, I never want to be void of the fact that all over the world, there are children in serious need.  If I've ever felt a calling for myself, I am pretty sure that this is it.  When I pull Marin up onto my chest, and we snuggle into our cushy rocking chair beneath her warm pink blanket, the fact is never lost on me that there is an outrageous number of children who have no one to love them in the way that mothers love their babies.  I have heard stories lately, as Kevin and I immerse ourselves into the world of adoptive families, of adopted babies crawling around floors of their new, safe homes looking for crumbs to eat, unable to trust that a next meal will come, and in the same, panicking as they are placed in their cribs, not knowing when someone will come back to hold them again.  That somehow sounds so dramatic to type, but God help me, how awful that it is reality at this very moment.

On multiple occasions in recent weeks, both Kevin and I have been asked by several people why we chose to adopt from Africa, and not here in the States.  I think it is a fair question, and I am relieved to know that there are many people in our country, such as my Aunt Kathy, who (did) adopt within the United States, and people like my mom and dad who foster parented.  At the end of the day for Kevin and I, though, once we had decided that for sure we wanted more children, and that a fourth c-section would be too risky for me, both of our minds went immediately to Africa.  For the millions of kids living on the streets and in packed orphanages there, even the most basic necessities such as clean drinking water, medicines and meals are unavailable.  If these kids can make it to adulthood, there is nothing even close to the hope for a prosperous life there, like what is offered by our country.  Part of me wants to ask in return, Why not Africa? in the most respectful way.  Countries there are full of such culture and beauty- what an addition to our family!  I also think that being born a US citizen and growing up with all of the freedoms and conveniences that we have in our country, we easily forget how pampered we are.  By the time we reach adulthood we've usually become so obsessed with The Pursuit of Happiness, and the constant pull for Bigger and Better, that we forget to count our many, many blessings, and spend far too many of our days griping.  Guilty as charged, here.  In the last couple years I've chosen to focus on my life's positives as often as I can be conscious of them, and it has brought me to the strong conviction that my many blessings also charge me with the responsibility to help, and help good.

I know that this is serious stuff, and so heavy, but as often as I've thought about children in Africa, and about the people suffering in Haiti this week, I realize that I remain quite new to a whole world recently opened up to me, and I am extremely sensitive.  I can't see from here how I will ever become a bit more dulled, but I suppose just as with motherhood in its brand newness, I may someday feel every tiny emotion slightly less, but also become more able-handed with what I know from experience.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking this journey with us, and I promise that Lighten Up will make it onto my to-do list, and soon.

Hard Days

 
:: Thinking constantly about the families in Haiti who have had the carpet ripped out from under them.  Feeling the pain of the adoptive families on message boards I visit, as they wait helplessly to go rescue their children, some of them desperate to know if those children are still alive.  Praying and wondering what will come of a place already so afflicted by poverty, now in physical ruins.

:: Worrying quietly for Marin as she soon faces another round of testing, another MAG-3, and what if another surgery on what was once thought to be her good kidney?  Wondering what it will mean for her future, knowing that somewhere there must be reason and goodness in this.  Searching to find it, and safety.

:: Realizing for sure that not all of our friends share our love and excitement for the future of our family, and learning how to let go for the right reasons. 

:: Sitting in the emergency room with Jack this evening, waiting for x-rays on his (not broken) arm, thinking again about the children in Haiti and the injuries they suffer from, only without the comfort of a quiet hospital room and proper medical attention, or even the consolation of parents and families who didn't make it.

I am so thankful for what I have- for the general health of my family, the feeling of security and the ability to dream, and the freedom to act on those dreams, that living in this country provides.  I am so grateful for the people in my life who hold my hand through these times, and for the healing that another day will bring.

Twenty Oh-Nine

First, our Christmas celebrations were good and I hope yours were, too.  We completed all but one item on my list of holiday fun (damn popcorn garland) plus took an unplanned trip to Florida this month.  The day after Christmas KJ came down with the stomach flu, and it then shot through every member of our house like a speeding rocket through some home-made pumpkin pie.  Or is that just what my laundry room looked like in its aftermath?  (Yes.)

I can hardly believe we're already a handful of days into the year 2010 (remember how crazy it was to reach Y2K with the projection of computers spontaneously combusting and scribbling out the 19 on every last page of your checkbook?  That was really ten years ago already?)  Last year, at the end of 2008, I wrote a review post, and going back to read it this morning I was surprised to remember what a difficult road we tread that year.  I had high hopes for 2009 at the time, and shared some of my goals here.  And now on the other side, I am so thankful to call 2009 one of the good ones.

With health a fair worry at the beginning of 2009, I am relieved to say that we made it through pretty smoothly.  Marin had surgery on one of her kidneys, and the other continues to be watched by our trusted specialist.  I was given the thumbs up by my own new doctor as well, to leave all return-tumor worries at her office door.  And while I didn't hit my final weight loss goal this year, I came forty-ish pounds closer, which is nothing to scoff at.  There's always the year ahead for celebrating the finish line, right? 

I gave running a try this year, and made frenemies with Jillian Michaels and her Eighteen Thirty Day Shred.  I also participated in two 5K walks for charity and pushed both a lawn mower and a double stroller a whole lot this year.  I loosened up my former strict relationship with the Weight Watchers points program for a balance with plain old healthy, natural eating, and wonder of wonders, found that consuming fruits and vegetables, and exercising, can help one shed pounds, also.  I accidentally dyed my hair black, and brown and had it short and long(ish.)  I lived in jeans and solid color t-shirts, and oversized hooded sweatshirts.   

This year we kept our noses clean financially, steering clear of credit card debt and paying off the lesser of our vehicles.  We were very honest with what we had to save, spend and give away each month, and though I know where I could have done better in certain situations, I am quite pleased in the end.  I learned a good deal about the stock market this year (as opposed to the Absolute Zero that I comprehended in years previous) and managed good returns as the market made its rebound.  I am forever thankful that we came away from the year with Kevin's job in-tact, unlike so many with different stories of 2009.

 
I fell head over heels in love with my simple laundry line this year, and spent more time than ever outdoors with the kids.  We visited our zoo through all seasons, discovered the walking trail near our home, and took full advantage of many free days for our local Chicago museums.  We also had a blast with Little League and basketball, took swim lessons and gave karate the old college try (read: fail!)  We practically lived at the library this year, heh, when we weren't at the zoo.  Many of those outings were done in the name of our new way of life as a homeschooling family, which I am both proud of myself for taking on this year, and proud of my children for embracing so readily.

 
This year was particularly difficult as we carried my Aunt Kathy to the end of her life, which is still hard to believe, and we participated in the Susan G. Komen walk in her name, to find a cure for a terrible disease.  I have remained overly-critical of myself through the year, still deeply longing to conquer my own fears and awkwardness to say the right thing a given moment instead of blurting out a jumbled mess of not quite what I meant to say as I back out of the room, sheepishly.  And still around and around with a sugar addiction, and eating in the name of comfort and celebration and worry, except for the moments when I managed to overcome it this year.  And there were a few. 

 
In response to 2008's Year of No Travel, we made our way from coast to coast in 09.  Kevin and I took a spring trip to California, just the two of us, and left a little piece of our heart at Big Sur.  We made a 3600 mile road trip as a family early this fall, visiting Mount Rushmore and the Colorado Rocky Mountains, the Texas panhandle and many of the plains states.  I will love and remember that trip forever.  Late in the year we took the kids on their first flight, down to Florida where we spent time with Kevin's Granny on the news of her late-stage cancer.  Marin paid her very first visit to Mickey Mouse, also.

 
KJ learned to ride a bike this year!  Kevin and my dad constructed our backyard swing set!  Sant and Leslie bought a house!  And got engaged!  My major purchase was my Canon Rebel and its lenses, which I love with my whole heart, and we landscaped the front of our house, and carpeted our family room.  We successfully rented out our old house for a second year, and our baby daughter learned to crawl, walk, talk and climb. 

 
This year a new baby began making his/her way into our family, growing in our hearts, rather than in my womb.

This year I learned that personal growth, and change, often do not happen overnight.  Or even in short months or years, sometimes.  I learned the value of solid friends willing to accept you for who you are, forgive you for who you were not but should have been, hold you up when you could barely stand and sincerely pat your back as you giddily make your way down the fast track to happiness.  I learned that making yourself vulnerable has its down-side, but is full of lessons when ridden out to a situation's end.  I saw that there is perfection in life's good and bad, and that opening oneself up to truest sincerity and God's abundance can bring nothing but joy, and even a few surprises. 

2009 was good.

It's beginning to look a lot like...oh come on, you know...

For what Autumn was this year (which, I think, was my best fall ever) I bid my farewell with a smile and a wave and a heart full of fond memories.  And pictures.  Lots and lots of pictures. 

 
Whether it was homeschool, or Marin making her way to a more manageable age while I settled comfortably into mothering three, or my growing appreciation for nature, I don't know.  Possibly a combination of all of those things.  And I'm hoping Christmas will bring much of the same happiness and good cheer.

Sant, Marin and myself, Thanksgiving 2009

To quote the late Joseph Campbell, "I think that what we're all really seeking (more than even the meaning of life) is an experience of being alive."  I think so too-- that most people, at their core, really want to dig their heels in, and to feel what it is to be alive.  Less going through the motions, less riding out the monotony, less self-medicating.  More being alive.  I want to be alive as often and for as long as I am able.

(Yes, I was most certainly alive at Thanksgiving, champion consuming ninety-four pounds of my mother's home-made stuffing, until I nearly exploded.)

 
Kevin and Jenny cooking, slicing and seriously crazy, at my mom's.

I cannot really say what this holiday season will bring for my family and myself, but this year I put together a simple list of fun and meaningful Christmas activities that I would like to see come together for us.  (Hello, goal oriented!) 

I am so excited about this holiday season, which Kevin and the kids and I really celebrate from just before Thanksgiving until the New Year, hoping to stretch Christmas from what might be only a day or two at best, to an entire month-long celebration of giving, happiness and faith.  Some of the items on my list are complete no brainers, because it wouldn't be the Christmas holiday without them, and others are meant to add a little cheer.  And some of them were completed quickly and crossed out, of course.

• Read The Night Before Christmas (My late-night Christmas Eve tradition with the kids, once they're bathed and in their Christmas pajamas after we come home from Kevin's mom's house)
• Venture out to the mall for a new family picture 
• Bake festive cookies, and sample the dough, of course (We do this every year with my mom.  Lots. Of. Sampling.)
• Take a long drive up Chicago's North Shore to enjoy the holiday lights (We so love doing this, and have added to the tradition in recent years, stopping at Dunkin Donuts for hot chocolates and a box-full of Boston Cremes.) 
• Go Christmas shopping, just Kevin and I, the weekend after Thanksgiving (another long-standing tradition of ours) (thaaaaanks Sant & Leslie, for babysitting!)
• Be thoughtful with the gifts we purchase and make for our friends and family 
• Eat dinner backwards, starting with dessert
• Host a Christmas Movie Party (Something new for this year!)
• Shop with the kids for our giving tree ornaments, one for each child (I started this last year, hoping to teach them how blessed we are to wake up Christmas morning to a family room full of presents.  Each child gets an ornament with an age and gender that corresponds to their own, and picks out and wraps a few presents for him/her.)
• Make popcorn garland
• Get dolled up, have a special dinner and see A Christmas Carol production on stage (We have tickets for Kevin, KJ, Jack and I this weekend!)
• Narrate Christmas stories to each other in front of our fireplace
• Write and mail letters to Santa
• Learn about how Christmas is celebrated all around the world (You're seeing some active homeschool planning in the last few, yes?)  (We begin our unit on Christmas Around The World tomorrow, actually.)
• Make our own gift wrap
• Decorate our house, listening to Christmas music (This is surely one of my favorite events as a mom-- helping my kids to put their collections of ornaments on the tree.)
• Shop with the kids for their parents and siblings (Again, hoping to drive home the concept of giving at this time of year.) 
• Read The Christmas Story

So our house has been decorated, we've sung bunches of Christmas songs.  We are mostly finished with our shopping and I've got some swell art projects planned for homeschool.  I am so happy that we are here already, with 2009 seeming to pass in the blink of an eye.  Knowing how quickly this season, along with everything else, passes, I really hope to savor all of the best parts. 

What are some of your traditions or favorite ways to celebrate the season? 

The Life List

It is no real secret that I am quite goal oriented.  I've spent the last three years overhauling the very essence of my self, searching for truth and learning to embrace with gratitude each of my experiences, good or bad, for how it can mold me.  In 2007 I started a list of goals for my life- one hundred of them because I like nice, even numbers.  As things go, I became busy and my list was shelved and briefly forgotten. 

Then in mid-summer this year I really felt a pull back to my list.  I resumed working on it, asking myself again and again what I really, really wanted to do in my lifetime.  Fairly in touch with my personal callings-- that is, knowing at least what intuitively feels right and not right for myself, I included things that were ridiculously easy but meaningful, and things that possibly would take a bit of effort on my part.  Each item means something to me.  I do not concern myself with when any of it will take place, or how, and I am very open to creating edited drafts should the need arise in years to come.  I'll never back down from a goal because it seems difficult or unreachable. 

I never intended to post my list here, until recently when my girlfriend Bree posted hers on her own blog.  Suddenly it made sense that I, too, could share my own life goals.  The 07's are mixed together with the 09's here, which is why some have been completed and crossed off the list.

My Life List of 100

1. Stand in Times Square, NYC
2. Own both of our vehicles outright
3. Homeschool for as long as possible with each of my children
4. Photograph the Northern Lights of Alaska
5. Go camping as a family
6. Write a book and publish it
7. Pay off my (undergrad) student loans
8. Adopt a child from Africa
9. Then adopt more
10. Get a tattoo
11. Eat raw for seven days

 
12. Make a quilt for Nathan
13. Finish losing weight, and stay there
14. Meet Oprah
15. Take Jack on a real train ride
16. Grow my hair long
17. See Paris, France with Kevin
18. Visit Scotland's Eilean Donan Castle with Kevin
19. Own a laptop
20. Throw myself a girlfriend party with all my best girls
21. Spend a sunny summer afternoon on a boat

 
22. Take the boys to Lego Land
23. Sell our first house for (*) profit
24. Bike ride as a family
25. Donate $10,000
26. Inspire someone
27. Pet an elephant
28. Have a home office
29. Own a nice camera with lenses
30. Lay on a blanket beneath the stars, away from the city lights where they can really be seen

 
31. Cry tears of joy
32. Own a jean jacket
33. Photograph glaciers
34. Be fearless in public
35. Earn my Masters Degree
36. Thank (college professor) for the wonderful, human lessons she taught me about being a teacher
37. Hear the Dalai Lama speak in person, here in the United States or far away where the Tibetan Prayer Flags fly

 
38. Take in the Rocky Moutntains in Colorado
39. Publish a book of photographs I've taken, just for myself
40. Take a writing class
41. Attend Maria Shriver's Women's Conference
42. Make a twirling skirt for Marin
43. Photograph Marin in her twirling skirt
44. Tour the Eastern Seaboard in Peak Fall
45. See a Broadway show
46. Attend a Notre Dame game as a family
47. Learn to meditate
48. Drink a beer in a Boston bar
49. Live in my perfect house, detailed with beautiful baseboards, oversized windows and a library, surrounded by tall trees
50. Feel truest peace in my heart
51. Learn to play the accoustic guitar
52. Spend a weekend in Las Vegas

 
53. Complete a Breast Cancer walk for my Aunt Kathy 
54. Be a keynote speaker
55. Start my own charity
56. Befriend my daughter(s)
57. Buy a Thomas the Tank Engine table for the boys
58. Attend a spiritual seminar at The Omega Institute
59. Run a 5K
60. Own two-inch heels and wear 'em proud
61. Attend the religious services/places of worship for twenty faiths (As of late 2009, Catholic, Lutheran, Episcopal, Baha'i)

 
62. Enjoy fine dining
63. Catch fireflies with my kids
64. Be humble
65. Host an incredible Christmas party
66. Attend a tent revival
67. Own stainless steel appliances
68. Open my own retirement account
69. Rock my sister's baby
70. Attend a week-long silent retreat
71. Indulge my African connection
72. Earn my PhD
73. Teach my children to swim
74. Go RVing! with Kevin
75. Make my own summer dress
 
76. Cross and photograph the Brooklyn Bridge in NY, Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, Perrine Bridge in Idaho, Royal Gorge Bridge in Colorado, George Washington Bridge in NY/NJ, Mackinac Bridge in Michigan, Tower Bridge in London and Pont de Normandie in France
77. See a panda bear in person
78. Take my children on an airplane flight
79. Give excellent advice
80. Go horseback riding (as an adult)
81. Meet my dearest Internet friends
82. Habitually give meaningful gifts

 
83. Own a Mercedes Benz
84. Make bracelets for each of my girlfriends
85. Wear braided hair
86. Author an important essay
87. Own a piano
88. Paint on canvas and display it at home
89. Send my children to college, and others too
90. Ride a camel
91. Write an important letter
92. Hatch chicks with KJ
93. See the Vatican in Rome, Italy
94. Set foot in all Fifty States together with Kevin (as of late 2009, 24 of 50)
95. See the Argentine Patagonia
96. Grow a large back yard vegetable garden
97. Eat a fancy cupcake in a charming little cupcake shop
98. Visit Holland, MI in peak tulip season
99. Become a grandmother
100. Serve Thanksgiving dinner to a long, festive table of my favorite guests

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Beautiful boy.

Back in the long, drawn-out fall of 2005, when I was at my heaviest weight ever and pregnant with my second son, I spent months of worrisome time on bed rest, trying to keep my blood pressure down and my contractions quiet, attempting to keep my growing baby inside until it was time.  Or at least, closer to time. 

I was due to have Jack in February, and knew there would be trouble when by October my blood pressure began to rise with each doctor visit.  I began having contractions on and off in November, still three months too early, and by December I was admitted to the hospital, undergoing repeated ultrasounds and preemie lung steroids, laying perfectly still so as to require my body to put all of its efforts into growing and sustaining my baby for as long as possible.  And week by week we celebrated further development, better hopes for breathing and ounces of weight gain for the baby. 

Spending a good part of that Christmas season in the hospital, I had a good deal of quiet time to read and think, which is imaginably less than the norm, being mom to an active three year old at home. During one of my stays I brought with me Raising Boys (choosing the book because, yes, the obvious title, but also because back then I was feeling quite romantic about the whole idea of raising two adorable little boys just like those on the cover of the book, who stood perfectly still and quiet for pictures.)  (Act of God.)  One of the nurses I'd gotten to know, who had raised three boys of her own, gave me a knowing laugh, and even called over another nurse to point out my book when she noticed what I was reading.  And together they gave me the "just wait and see" speech from atop their collective male-raising soap box. 

I, of course, at the time with just one three year old child, understood the penchant for climbing and noise, and pummeling his father on the living room floor at every opportunity, but I'd not yet raised boys.  Boys who had been influenced by the world outside and had each other to try it out on; who would enjoy tackling each other almost as much as they do their father, and who care nothing for clothing or washing but everything about guitar solos, and constructing the absolute tallest towers and subsequently crashing them to the ground.  In the noisiest ways possible, of course, followed by the most ear drum-splitting cheers. 

So I was still a fairly new mom, all things considered, and still believed all things child-raising to be mostly within my control (clearly only three pages into the book.) I told myself that MY boys would not grow up all crazy and loud like what the nurses had described.  It was all in the upbringing, I told myself. 

Jackson was born on January 1st, the New Years Baby at our hospital, weighing a tiny four pounds but with all the fight in the world.  He breathed on his own even as premature as he was, and he ended up needing only a little special care. 

I was unable to finish reading my book.

Fast forward four years to where I am a mother of three, now, and cannot seem to find those original parenting ideas anywhere, as they're probably buried beneath a stack of Autobot drawings, junk mail and homeschool workbooks, stuck to the bottom of a painted page that was thrown in the pile before the largest glops of paint had completely dried. 

Earlier this week I was sharing an afternoon at the park with a mom-friend of mine, who is raising five and two year old boys, and we casually shared our chaos-containing stories like they were completely normal, because by now they are, and we both love them dearly.  Our boys darted around, climbing up the slides and hopping down from too-tall platforms, blasting each other with pretend weapons, yelling at the tops of their lungs and yielding sticks.  I was once a little nervous to raise all of this, infinitely less familiar than my husband with the need for motion, guns and bad guys, as I grew up a girl.  Not a girly-girl, but a bit more subdued, nonetheless.  (Verified by another friend of mine as we discussed it just this morning over coffee and children playing everywhere, that no, not so much with the little girls and the blasting each other.  You?  Same experience?)  (I digress.)

From the park we then herded our five young children, their parade of scooters and our two large strollers into the back corner booth (because we might be nuts, but we're not crazy) of the close-by Dairy Queen where we showered our crowd with a fun evening of cheeseburgers and chocolate-dipped ice cream cones. 

The floor around our table was a disaster by the end, and our children were covered in ketchup and chocolate- a few of them all the way to the ankles of their already grass-stained jeans.  And they'd managed to paint chocolate goatees on themselves before we noticed, laughing their fool heads off, loudly, of course.

In passing my friend had heard the teenage girls behind the counter discussing our brood-- the moms with the seven little kids (clearly unable to keep count with all of the the excited leaping, hopping and jumping in the back corner...ish) like it was quite the scene.  And when she shared that conversation with me, we both laughed, and I pointed out that ten years ago?  We too would have thought this quite the scene.  And yet now how we adore the scene.

Before I had two little boys, and three children, I had so much to learn.  When it comes to anything with motherhood I am always grateful that God grows us into our roles, and into their ages.  This certainly comes with good reason. 

It wasn't too many years ago that I seriously worried about all of the tackling, noise level and mess with my two guys, and whether it was even normal, or good.  Their relationships with me, our love for each other, so unique and fantastic, and yet no matter what rules I imposed or rewards I offered, only rarely could I acheive the calm I assumed I could bring to my guys with a mom's influence. 

In my earliest days of motherhood I held tightly to the belief that with enough discipline, children would simply behave, and that all of the glares in public could be avoided.  I had yet to grow into my understanding that judgments and nasty looks are, for the most part, adult problems.  Kids are the most free, teaching beings around, happy to be exactly who they are and do whatever comes most natural to them.  It is the grown-ups, who will be the first to tell you they know it all, who impose so many social rules- sometimes for good reason and other times straight from the pit of our own neuroses and insecurities. 

In perfect timing with our chocolate ice cream escapade of two nights ago, I had just finished reading Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser, another mom of boys.  And in one part of her book she talks about what she calls the Vroom Vroom Gene, where no matter what fair play she had exposed her boys to, in a room of little guys and little girls one will almost always witness a particular group with their dump trucks, going vroom vroom across the floor.  I find it so endearing. (As I do the friend-making, dolly-lovin' witnessed with little girls, though that's for another post.)

I have become so seasoned to the Vroom Vroom Gene over the years, and yet it is all so fresh and new as we venture from babyhood through toddlerhood and preschool-ville, now into the real deal of boyhood in year seven with my oldest.  And I feel myself growing again, with a child ready to pull away from me in ways I didn't expect, who knows more than I imagined and believes he knows even more than that.  Wonderful and terrifying all in the same, as always. 

*

As an aside I need to mention, perfectly fitting as I stopped typing here to eat dinner with my little family, that I spent a good portion of our rainy, chilly afternoon peeling, chopping and seasoning my home-made vegetable soup for tonight's dinner.  I prepared two seperate pots- one with meat for those so inclined, and one with lentils.  All afternoon I boiled and simmered, tasted, added and checked on to ensure a nice dinner for tonight.

Kevin arrived home from work at seven, and as I typed away here, he filled soup bowls and set out spoons.  We finished dinner and just before leaving the dinner table, my three year old announced, "You made the best vegetable soup ever, dad!" 

(And now that I've hit on the boy loyalty, I think we've covered everything.  Heh.)

Why, hell yes I enjoyed my cake!

Why do you ask?

Well, actually, at first she wouldn't touch it.  Suddenly a bit shy about making a mess, I guess.  Then I handed her a spoon, and she was Off To The Races!

About mid-way through I began questioning how great of an idea this was for my poor child, who consumes actual cake, or sugar for that matter, approximately next to never (I knew I would find some benefit for her being a third child. Girl lives healthy.)  And though I worried that it would knock her little socks off, she did okay.  She remained awake for something like thirteen hours straight, but her head never spun.

Yes, there remains a pink overtone to her skin.

Also, I failed to get a picture of my sweet girl in her birthday dress.  It was pretty and pink, with a big flower.  And this is all I have.  A princess and her presents.

Which were loved forty percent as much as the cards.

We decided to try a September combo party this year, celebrating KJ's birthday as well.  He turns SE-VEN in a couple weeks, people.  Why would he do this?

Also, he's shattered his father's pure Notre Dame heart by straying from the herd, excited as all get-out this year for Oklahoma.  Here's his first Sooners jersey.

No, we have no idea where this fascination came from.  We live in the Northernmost Westestmost tip of Indiana for all practicality, and can spit into Chicago.  Oklahoma?  Eh?

This weekend we were finally able to corral all of the Ray-Dunscombe kids into one room for a sit-down shot (which, hello, five kids under seven, welcome to the impossible) as Bree and Luke and the kids were able to join us as overnight visitors for the weekend.  Where the moms stayed up too late talking, and then the babies took turns waking up all night.  To make us paaaaaaaay. Mwahahahaha!

And then back we go, to homeschool on Monday morning, with the old baking soda-volcano experiment.  Great way to get rid of mashed-together Play Doh, great way to use up all of your dish soap.  That you don't particularly want to use up.

While I am so glad that our Double Birthday Bonanza went off without a hitch, I have to say that I am tired.  The transition from Mom X 3 to Mom X 3 plus Teacher and Party Planner has been exactly what I imagined when we originally took the homeschool leap.  Though I do love it, it has doubled, or even tripled my workload between lesson planning, teaching and cleaning up from school, on top of everything else I normally do here.  I need a serious vacation, friends.  Or a mother's helper.  Or a cleaning lady.

Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn (that you went to bed tonight smelling like pee).

There's always tomorrow for baths, and then more pee opportunities anyway, right?

I have these blog entries swirling in my head, covering the ins and outs of our homeschool decision and action plan, as well as something or other about grocery bills and finances and the market, oh my.  But alas, my three chidren woke at 5:46am today and wouldn't you know it's Turn Off The TV week for KJ's school, making for a loooong day.  (Seriously, the kid gets a Dairy Queen Blizzard if he clocks no minutes of television in the next five days.  Dare I offer to buy him two blizzards if I can just get one hour of quiet?)

Also something terrible happened to our baby swing early last week, which translates to It No Longer Goes, and therefore my daughter has decided that her only happiness shall henceforth be my arms, swinging her like a worn out mama ape all the livelong day.  And night.

 

We finally made it into nice weather last week, which brought opportunities for a couple outdoor playdates as well as a trip to (say it with me) the zoooo.  Those be my children, absolutely mortified of the roaring Brontosaurus in the background there, as if I don't have to remind them to stop talking about Bionicles and Transformers blasting each others' heads off every five minutes at home.  Needless to say we steered clear of the life sized T-Rex exhibit.

We do well with downed trees, though.

Quick! (Before they dump her!) Baby's first slide!

I keep wondering, with each fun Spring day we conquer, if I will continue to be this tired at the end of each outing.  Running around with three young children is much like the longest roller coaster ride of your life.  Thrilling! Exciting! Totally fun! Sometimes makes you vomit! Aaaaaaand okay that's enough let's take a break from this ride, no?  Everybody wants to go upside down again?  Really?  Eh.

I honestly wouldn't have it any other way, in that being out, happy and free is our way, for sure, but most days the work that goes into occupying, teaching, feeding, bathing and constantly corralling three children continues to slay me.  I have learned to let go of luxuries such as commenting on blogs, leaving the house in spit-up-free clothing and keeping up with housework on floors that are not the main level...for now.  So they'll have the same sets of sheets on their beds until they are twelve, nine and six.  At least they're matchy, no? 

Also, I am learning to let them move at their individual paces during the day, which is how this happens...

The boy woke up twenty minutes into dinner, peed head to toe (and managed to pee on two! stairs,) went straight into pajamas, no bath, but happily ate a pound of broccoli.  Lose, win, yes?  His sister also pooped something fierce moments after the soaking scene, hearing that I didn't really care to eat anyway.  Ask me why I haven't dieted in a month, and why peanut butter slathered kaiser rolls are my late-night companion. 

Rounding out the week, Kevin took KJ and Jack to the annual Notre Dame Blue and Gold Game on Saturday (as well as for a drive into Michigan and then an impromptu trip to the beach, where Jack announced that the best part of the whole day was The Pop! that he drank back at the stadium.) 

This?  Gave Marin and I the day to slip away, ourselves -- for baby day with our Indianapolis pals.

Kara and Marin, sixteen and seven months respectively, are a laugh a minute together.  They squealed at each other, happily rolled around on the floor all afternoon and showed sure signs for being future BFF's. 

I also got in good quality snuggle time with my sweet little godson Nathan, who was both confused and nervous about all of the high-pitched squealing, giggling and baby tackling.  Where were the Bionicle Brothers, he wondered.  (Drinking pop, that's where.)

Spit-up covered roller coaster ride indeed.  But crazy fun, no?

Blog, Interrupted

What better way to start the year with ... a few? ... projects that pulled me away from the internet for a while. 

Now, I won't lie.  It has been a bit hectic keeping up with my three little chickens and taking on a large magnitude of projects, but this has been so much fun to do.

And with fun, you know it must have something to do with paint in my house.

We took down our Christmas decorations a few weeks ago, which somehow spurred a serious cleaning and organizing jag.  Something with feeling my post-pardum-post-pregnancy-post-let's-get-this-show-on-the-road energy return completely to normal in the most wicked-compelling way, but this month has been dedicated to the running start. I cleaned closets and cabinets far and wide, and then decided it was high time that the bunkbedding begin, and Marin have her own bedroom (nevermind the fact she's still sleeping beside me.)  Then I added in a few decorative projects I'd been meaning to take on over the long pregnant year past, and painted my lower level family room.  And in addition to all that?  Marin learned to roll from belly to back, and I conquered the impossible by potty training Jack.  Hallelujah, there will be no jumbo packs of Luvs mailed with his Notre Dame University care packages.

No in-process pictures this time, save you from reading this for exactly as long as I was missing in action.  Just finished projects:

 

The Roommates!  They have been stacked!

With each discussion we had about the boys sharing a bedroom, they requested I use their favorite colors - Crimson Red and Hunter Green.  I had to figure out a way to satisfy all members of the house (read: myself) by steering clear of The Deep Dark Christmas Bedroom, and so I incorporated their favorites with a shade of tan.

And all the world (and the solar system, as well) was satisfied.

 

Likely, this picture documents the last time this room shall be categorized as Clean.  It now houses, in addition to two thrilled little boys, forty-two Geotrax trains, tracks, station and brother airport, seventeen Bionicle men, twelve thousand Legos, four hundred blankets and stuffed animals, two loaded dressers, one bursting bookcase and approximately twelve square feet of play-available floor space.

 

And combining that?  Made room for this! 

And not just a corner of her brother's room, anymore!

 

A full-fledged Neopolitan Ice Cream-Inspired baby girl nursery.

 

With board books to be read and new toys still in boxes, not to be played with or otherwise dismantled until she is ready for them.  

 

...Leaving us the luxury of an un-baby stuff stuffed bedroom of our own, if you can imagine.

 

...Inspiring me to paint and utilize an old basement storm window from our friends' turn of the century home as a picture frame above our bed.

 

And this one in our upstairs hallway, as well, using a doctored form of the Fingerprints poem.   

 

I also gave some badly needed attention to our living room couch pillows by making some new covers for them.  Less than seven dollars of fabric from the discount table and call it a day.

 

All of these projects brought to you by two weeks of on-again off-again snow and thirteen degrees below zero temperatures in the Midwest.

I never did manage to photograph the family room, but take my word for the fact that it was well past midnight, I was still in my paint clothes and highly delirious from fumes when I decided to cover over the lower-half blue walls I never really cared for.  That which was meant to mimic slate actually screamed 1982 COUNTRY GOOSE COOKIE JAR GETS A BLUE RIBBON ROUND HER NECK.  Now it says, "Relax. Dark Green was a better alternative, and free.  See bedroom above."

We finally ended all of the home decor madness with a different kind of madness, by hosting our Wisconsin Twins X Two pals for the weekend (do the quick math: we spent Friday through Sunday as a clan of four adults and seven children.  Seven children ages four months to six years.  Three of whom are barely finishing adventures with potty training, one who does not sleep through the night.)  Remind me to share with you sometime what it was like to take those seven children to the local TGI Fridays during dinner rush.  In my mind these outings are always so much simpler than when actually executed.  Go figure.

Three cheers for a productive January. 

Oh Fall

Our weather forecast calls for a high of forty degrees today.  Yesterday we experienced a rainy-sleety combination falling from the clouds.  The colorful leaves have fallen, almost completely, from the trees now.  I think my very most favorite time of the year is coming to a close, thankfully only to be followed by my second favorite time of year (Christmas!) 

Here are some of my favorites from this fall, and one little blast from the past.  Enjoy!

Tall trees & yellow leaves

 

There is seriously nothing like this time of year.

  

  

An oldie from 2006.  I could eat them up!

But, hmm, someone's missing...

Much better, thankyouverymuch!

Dare I say this picture makes me want a few more?  Maybe three?  Four more?

 

Our last warm fall day at the zoo.

Playing with our buddies, Marky and Connor.

Whoosh!

 

There's something so different and so beautiful about fall shadows.

 

Until next year...

Also, I'm attempting to finally update flickr in my sidebar with the two months of pictures I'm behind.  Now that it's almost Thanksgiving and my daughter is two months old, it would be nice to look at something other than swimming pool shots and my big baby belly, eh?