Back In It

I have wanted my tonsils out for a long time.  They cause me a lot of problems in the winter months and I think I have needed them out for years.  Last year, I talked to our trusty ENT who agreed I would be a candidate for the surgery, so I schedule it fo the week of Thanksgiving.  Then, I ended up pregnant with Sheva, and had to cancel the surgery.  So, this year, after I had Sheva, I called my ENT again to see if I could have the surgery.  We set it up for the week of Thanksgiving.  I had heard all these horror stories about tonsillectomies, but honestly, it went surprisingly well and I my recovery was fairly smooth.  That was almost two weeks ago.  Last Sunday, I was putting Sheva to bed for the night, and I felt myself do something to my back.  This is not an unusual occurrence, and I kind of thought to myself, "Dang, now I'm going to have a hurt back all week...I guess tomorrow I will need to do my back exercises."  And, I went to bed.  I got up the next morning, felt sore (tonsils and back), but felt fine.  As the morning progressed, I seemed to feel worse and worse.  I was talking to a friend on the phone, while I was holding Sheva and my left leg lost all feeling.  My leg was numb from the hip to the toes and I couldn't stand up.  At first, I thought, "Well, this is ridiculous! I'm just going to make myself walk!"  But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stand up.  I called TPM, hysterical, because I couldn't figure out what was going on with me.  And, I did not walk again the rest of the day.  The boys' piano teacher (and my dear friend) came over and stayed with the boys while I tried to go to the chiropractor with no luck.  TPM begged me to go to the ER, and I refused.  I thought I would surely wake up Tuesday and the pinched nerve will have "unpinched" itself.  At 3 in the morning, I was in the most pain I have ever been in.  I had taken pain medication...and nothing.  Earlier that day, a dear friend had texted me to see if I would bring my kids over Tuesday morning to play.  At 3 in the morning, I realized she had answered a prayer I didn't know I had.  She came over that morning, picked up my kids, and I called another dear friend to drive me to the ER.

Within 3 hours, they had run an MRI (wow, that's not an good experience), and determined that I had 3 herniated disc, one of which was digging right into the main nerve in my left leg.  They explained I would have to have surgery within the next 24 hours to avoid permanent nerve damage.  I cried and cried that day.  It all just seemed so impossible to recovery from back surgery and do what needed to be done in our home.

While I was crying in my hospital bed, my friend returned to my house with my kids, and a babysitter.  My kids took their nap, while someone else went and picked my kids up from school.  Lil' N explained, "Mom something magical happened on Tuesday.  I came home from school and there were people everywhere - helping us!"  There were 5 sisters in our home.  I think two took my kids to the park and got homework done.  One got dinner started.  One started folding my mounds of laundry that had piled up during the tonisllectomy adventure.  Someone vaccummed my floor.  Someone grabbed grocery, and another sister sat all the boys down to reassure them that Mom would be okay and that Heavenly Father would take care of her.

TPM called my parents who dropped everything and came that night.  I had surgery the next day.  My sister comes in tonight to help my mom this week.  My dear friend from college will be here the following week.  I have been helped this week by dozens of people.   

The constant thread through this week has been the immense amount of love that has been shown to me and my family.  It is truly amazing how much people are willing to drop all of the stuff in their lives and love our little family in crisis.  I know it was such a sacrifice, and yet, they acted like I was doing them a favor to let them love us.  I hate trials like this, I don't think anyone really loves them.  But, one blessing that comes out of it is that you see the hand of God in your life in the form of others' hands.

As Lil' N would say...it was magical. 

Halloween 2013

Our children play too much Mario Galaxy, and so when I asked them what they wanted to be for Halloween...the boys were throwing Mario characters at me.  It was pretty daunting, because I've said before that I'm not a creative person.  I kept trying to talk them into "easier" characters, but they were all pretty committed, so I had to make it happen. 

Here is the crew:

Squeakers was Luigi.

Blurbles was Dino Pirannha...basically it's the plant guy in the Mario games.

Lil' N was Donkey Kong.

Bug was Gold Mario...yep, I didn't know there was a Gold Mario either.

Puppa was Mario.

Frew was Toad...this costume rules.  Don't you love it?  He kept the hat on the whole time!

Sheva was Baby Peach, but we didn't get a good picture of it, because her crown wouldn't stay on.  :(

Our little Mario crew collected oodles of candy...we're so thankful to be done with it all!



Sheva's Blessing

Our sweet baby girl was blessed at the end of September.  It was so much fun for Mama, because I got to go looking for the prettiest dress ever! Thanks to my dear friend in Utah; I was able to track down this pretty little dress.  Sheva seemed to know that she was a pretty little doll...she was so charming all day!  Brent's brother's family came out and so did Brent's parents.  My parents also came out, and it was enjoyable to have family around for such a big day. 

Her daddy gave her a beautiful blessing, and she is definitely a daddy's girl....

And her Mama is just crazy about her...



What happened to September?

I really don't know where the last month went...it's all a blur, really.  I remember many, many late nights.  I remember moving into a new house.  I remember buying a new car.  I remember wanting to cry many times from sheer fatigue.  I remember messing up my back...and it's still not better.  But, really...I don't really know what happened to the last month. 

We moved the week of the 20th of September.  Thank you, thank you to everyone who was involved in that endeavor.  We appreciate you from the bottom of our heart.  I would have died without you. 

I was going to take a picture of the mass chaos and couldn't find my camera...and I was so dead that I didn't realize I have one on my phone. Oh, well...just take my word for it...it was bad.  This is the picture the day we got the keys:

Here are some pictures of the kids swimming in a freezing pool...but, they are having fun:

Only in Tucson...could you swim in an unheated pool at the end of September, but even for me...it's too cold!

Our sweet baby girl was blessed at the end of September and both families came out for that...more pictures to follow...she looked like a total princess, and she seemed to know it because she was so happy all day.

Now that we are all moved in...we are so happy and feel truly blessed.  Lil' N told me the other day, "It's a good thing we moved, cause our old house was just too ugly."  I didn't know quite how to respond to that.  He had a point, but I want him to know that we were blessed to have our other house too...I think I responded something like, "That wasn't a very nice thing to say"...but, I'm sure I could have handled that teaching moment a little bit better. 

Once we got into our house...we had to buy a car.  We joke around that Sheva was the million dollar baby, because she made us buy a new house and car.  So, here is our new vehicle...it's the NV (for Nissan Van).  Bet you didn't know that Nissan made a 12 passenger van, huh?  They didn't know it either! The salesman told us, "I knew we made an NV...but, I thought it was just a commercial vehicle...only today did I find out it's also a 12 passenger van! The dealership had only ever had two...and they were both sold pretty quickly:

It is the biggest car...I feel like I'm driving a semi and I've bruised myself several times hopping in and out of this dang thing! But, the kids love driving in it, and I'm getting used to driving this behemoth monster...it's just really hard to maneuver! And, anyone that knows me...knows I am a mediocre driver at best...so, this should be interesting!

So, that's the update...more to follow.

Update

So, I am finally trying to come out of the fog.  It was nice of TPM to help with blogging duties while I was adjusting to all the changes in our lives.  Our sweet baby girl is wonderful.  I think she averages a fussy day about once every other week...she is truly the easiest baby.  The boys are loving their new school and doing very well.  I have been totally pleased with the way things have been going.  Uncle Bo decided to come stay with us for a while (my brother), and that has been nice, because I can run my millions of errands to get ready to move in 3 weeks and I know that my kids are being loved by Uncle Bo. 

We move in 3 weeks.  I don't have a current picture, because honestly, most of the progress is being made in the inside.  But, I promise a picture on move in day. 

Here's our little angel:

She is totally bald, we pray she'll get some hair soon, but she is cooing and smiling.  We are all in love.

Wrapped

When people discover that we have just had our first girl after having six boys, one of the first comments that they make to me is, “I’ll bet you’ll be wrapped around her little finger.”  I usually laugh to myself at that statement because I have foreseen my reaction to having a girl for many years.  As I remarked earlier in this blog, both Becca and I believed that we would have girls before we ever started having children.  Even since adolescence, I felt fairly sure that daughters awaited me in my future.  In fact, it was while my wife and I were watching the movie, “I am Sam,” in the theater in January 2002, six months after we were married, that I started to feel strongly that parenthood lay in the not-too-distant future.  There was something about Dakota Fanning’s innocence and precocity that kindled a yearning that would grow and anguish as the years of infertility settled upon us like a dark shroud.  

In July of 2005, those years of bereavement finally ceased—the Heavens had opened and three babies miraculously joined our family.  That they were boys and not girls came as a bit of a surprise to me considering my self-acclaimed prescience in the matter.  The gender difference was simply an after-thought as we settled in to child-rearing.  With each subsequent child, I kept anticipating an XX-chromosome result on the 20 week fetal ultrasound.  I was so sure of it by baby number 5, that I would have placed money on it.  Fortunately, there were no takers.  By baby 6, I had resigned myself to the fact that I only had Y swimmers, and that I would just enjoy the mass rambunctious chaos that little boys create--careening about like spinning Tazmanian Devils. 

When we showed up, on that fateful day, for the ultrasound in February 2012 the results were a foregone conclusion in my mind.  I had already prepared my public statement, “Yep.  It’s another boy.” The ultrasonographer would not have won any “Best Personality” competitions.  She was business-like in demeanor, and robotic in action.  Throughout the process, I kept looking for that tell-tale sign of masculinity.  There were a few times that I thought I might have seen “something”; but, the technician would whisk away before any conclusive image could appear.  Then, she started wrapping up her supplies and asked us if we had anymore questions.  Becca and I looked quizzically at one another, like maybe we had missed something that the ultrasonographer had said.  In near unison we said, “What is the baby’s gender?”  The woman stared back at us as if this was a request she had never heard before.  I thought, “Is this some kind of alien masquerading as a human?”  Her response of, “Oh, you do?” further stupefied us; and, we were so befuddled we could only nod in assent.  She quickly rescanned the abdomen and localized the area in question and magnified the screen.  It was not a little boy.

Becca had attended an appointment earlier in her pregnancy where the OB had performed a quick scan because both she and Becca were anxious to see if they could discern the gender.  The scan suggested that we possibly had a girl.  I would not believe it until I had hard evidence—the procedure was performed too early in the baby’s development for it to be conclusive in my mind.  I knew that Becca was fairly convinced we would have a girl; but, I would not be persuaded to allow myself an emotional pinky toe down that road.  I was happy and at peace with my little boys, and did not need that serenity disrupted by the reignited hope of having a little, baby girl.

At the conclusion of that February appointment, we found ourselves wandering out of the office and toward our car: Becca with her triumphant smile, and me with my abashed perma-grin.  In the days and months that followed, I have to admit that I steeled and insulated myself against the possibility of losing my baby girl.  I could not allow myself to become completely attached until I knew that she was truly ours.  That all ended on the 25th of June, 2012.  Years of prediction, hoping, and resignation finally came to a close when I saw this beautiful, precious baby take her first breath of air—it was well worth the wait.

So, when somebody blurts out, “She’ll have you wrapped around her finger.”  I just smile and think to myself, “She already has.”  I’ve been wrapped for a very long time.

Oh, and by the way, my favorite color is now pink. ;)

TPM

Sibling Rivalry

Frew has been surprisingly embracing of his new little sister.  We definitely had concerns about his initial reaction to her presence in our household because his titular role of “baby” in the family was going to be revoked.  Instead of melting down or attempting to inflict harm upon the baby when his parents’ attention was directed to other household matters, he has turned to a life of jubilant crime, and can be found pilfering the pantry, bathing himself in the sink and making the dog’s food more palatable by dumping it into the water dish. 

This is not to say he is ignorant of our sweet little angel, he has definitely adjusted his lifestyle to her presence.  In some ways, he loves his little sister too much, and can be found pinching her cheeks, smothering her in her blanket (to keep her warm and snuggly), and kissing her on any available real estate (eyes, nose and mouth are his preferred targets).

We have only had a couple of incidents of sibling rivalry.  The other day, shortly after I arrived home from work, I could be found holding my sweet, precious daughter in the kitchen while I was talking to Becca about the day.  Frew entered the room at a reckless toddle and came right up to my legs, where he pulled my leg hair and said in his pidgin English, “up.”  When his request was sweetly denied for reasons of my arms being currently occupied by his younger sibling, his demand became more insistent, “UP!”  The response back was a little more firm, and Frew walked away with apparent acceptance. 

Not 10 seconds later, Frew skidded around the corner on his little red car, aiming straight for my unprotected shins.  I quickly maneuvered out of the way, thinking he had just been enjoying a little reckless joyride.  Immediately after my juke, he spun a 180 and caught some paternal ankle as I was trying to juggle a baby and the well-being of my lower appendages.  Fortunately, it was only a glancing blow; but, Frew was just getting warmed up.  He flipped around again for another pass—a maniacal grin of punitive justice plastered across his mug—when Becca finally stepped in, impounded the car, and carted the reckless driver off to a place of secluded contrition. 

A few minutes later, after the dust had settled, the supplanted baby came meekly back to give his simple apology.  The request was accepted with a little half-hug (I was still holding the baby), and Frew backed a foot away, hopefully looked at me and said, “up?”

TPM

Month 3

It looks like a house now!!  This picture is a week old...so, we now have a driveway, a garage door, and cabinets!! We close on the house in mid-Sept.  It's starting to feel real now.

P.S.

This morning, at breakfast, one of my children asked, "If a meateater ate one of us...how much fiber would the meat eater get?  You know...from eating us?  How much fiber is in us?" 

Not kidding.  Real conversation. 

I rest my case.

Dear Mrs. Obama,

Dear Mrs. Obama,

I wanted to write you this little letter to thank you for the personal effect that your "Let's Move" program has had on my children.  I have 7 children, three of which were in 1st grade last year.  For some odd reason, my children's 1st grade PE teacher spent the majority of their PHYSICAL education time educating my children on the dangers of...CALORIES.  Consequently, my children became obsessed with nutritional facts.  You may think I'm being ridiculous, but I assure you, I am not being ridiculous.  I invite you to spend a day with us, and see how often the nutritional facts of every possible consumable product (and even some that aren't) are discussed in our home.  My children refuse to eat something, without first inspecting the nutrional label.  That sounds great, right?  Not so much, when your children are in the "less than 5th percentile" for body weight (pushing 40 pounds soaking wet, and they are 7 years old).  My children are constantly running around and burning calories (without having to have a "let's move" program...it's called imagination).  And, their dad is not exactly a hefty man, and so they come from some pretty skinny genes (although not "skinny jeans"--those are not my favorite style).  So, no matter what they eat, or how many calories they consume in a day--they are still pretty slim fellas.  I have to pay extra for the pants that come with the elastic on the inside, and then I have to pull the elastic so tight that it provides a nice billowy look around their waste just to keep the pants over their rears.  But, they have now been brainwashed with the idea that calories are bad and potassium is good.  What is potassium, really?  And, what in the heck does it do for your body?  Because I'm a middle aged woman who has gotten through life just fine without that knowledge, but the only way I can get Squeakers to drink his milk is to call it "liquid potassium", because then he wants to guzzle it down, flex his muscles (which barely protrude from his angular skeleton of a body) and say, "I have lots of potassium in my body!" 

I applaud your efforts in helping our nation's children to be healthier, but I hope your dopey program doesn't result in the eating disorders of my otherwise very healthy and happy children.  Children under the age of 7 probably don't need to worry about how many calories a food has in it, and they certainly don't need to worry about the fiber, potassium, and polyunsaturated fat content of the food.  I know you assume that mothers are idiots, but I'm actually fully capable of reading nutritional labels and feeding my children nutritous food, and even letting them eat "junk food" once in a while.  I don't think my kids need one more thing to worry about.  But, thanks to the "Let's Move" program, my kids will be obsessed with the potassium levels in their food for the rest of their lives. 

That was worth the few million dollars you spent on that program. 

How about we shift a few more million dollars into the schools so that they can actually exercise during P.E, and get more than about 30 minutes of total recess play in their day (and only 15 if your son happens to have a teacher that is pathologically late).  That might be a better use of your "Let's Move" program.  In the meantime, we'll be at home eating perfectly healthy food while my children ask me, "Mom, will this food clog my arteries?" 

How about we worry about that...when you are over the age of 20.

True Love

Somehow our daughter and seventh child has been able to manage more one on one time with her parents in her first week of life than any of our other children.  This was facilitated by my parents who took the other 6 boys for the week.  I am blessed with truly wonderful parents, since we were not sure who we could get to watch the boys while we were at the hospital having her.  We have truly enjoyed our time with her.  

One my favorite parts of having a child (and yes, I know we do this a lot), is watching my husband.  I have seen him fall in love 8 times now.  The first time - with me.  And, the following 7 times with our children.  He plays it cool my whole pregnancy.  At one point, when I thought we may lose the triplets, he was calm and collect.  I could tell he was worried, but it was hard to get a lot of emotion out of him.  The day we had them, I saw more emotion in him that I had ever seen.  He jumped into fatherhood with both feet.  The NICU nurses were amazed.  He was bathing them, changing their leeds (the wires connected to them), asking countless questions of the nurses and doctors, and he was the most successful at getting our boys to eat a full bottle.   I thought it might wane with the 4th child, but it didn't.  He can hold a baby for many hours and never get tired of it.  He changes more diapers in the first few weeks than I ever do.  And, he's much better at getting out burps than me.   

 This week, was no different.  I watched him fall madly in love with his little girl.  One evening, I needed him to fix my phone, so I held her while he worked on it.  When he had fixed it, he handed it to me, and said, "Would it be okay if I held the baby now?"  And, he held her for the next 3 hours. 

Every time I see this reaction in him (I've watched it seven times now), I fall in love all over again with my wonderful husband.  I'm quite sure that there is nothing sexier than a man in love with his children. 

Sheva Grace

If you have been reading our blog for a little while, you might recall a posting called “The Promise” that we posted in October 2009.  Both Becca and I have always thought there had to be a child with an XX chromosome waiting to come into our family.  When we had boy, after boy, after boy, we began to doubt this feeling; and, had embraced the reality of a testosterone laden household…and had found peace with that.  Well, I think the Lord was waiting for us to achieve that level of peace before He blessed us with the girl we had accepted that we would probably never have.

On the date of the ultrasound, when we learned the reality of our baby’s gender, we came home and began to run through all of the possible names that we would consider or discard.  We have stayed with a biblical name theme with our previous six boys, and felt that we should probably continue to employ that same naming strategy for our girl.  There were names that we liked, and even a name that we were fairly certain we would use; but, there was still something missing every time we thought about it.  I began to play around with other Hebrew words that would describe the many facets of the miracle that the Lord was bringing into our lives.  There is one Hebrew word that fits them all—it means oath, covenant, perfect, complete…and seven.  It is sheva.  It took us a few days to ruminate on it before we actually felt that we could accept that name, and a few months before we fully embraced the idea that it could be her name.

Today, our precious little baby was born.  Sheva Grace.  She is 6 lbs. 12 oz., and 19 inches long.  We feel like our promise has been fulfilled...we think she's perfect.

Month 2

We have now entered month two of the home building process.  What we have now actually looks like a home:

It still can't happen soon enough.  But, our dreams are slowly transforming into reality.

Puppa's 4

 Well, Puppa turned four this week! He's been waiting for this for so long, and he's happy to announce to anyone that will listen to him that he's a big four year old!  TPM came through the day of his birthday when he came home with the "Puppy" Pillow Pet that he found at the store that day.  Puppa has carried that thing around ever since:

He's getting ready to blow out the eastern seaboard with that breath!

Here's a happy and content Puppa with some of his favorite toys and a nice big piece of cake:

And, here's a not-so-happy Bug when he realized that Puppa's birthday meant presents for PUPPA and not for him:

I know, you're thinking, "Didn't he just have a big ol' birthday party where he got a TON of presents?"

Yes, yes he did.  All I can say is: reality check. 



"Bee"ing happy

So, I have the sweetest friends ever...I really do.  They insisted on throwing a shower for our girl, even though it's our 7th baby, and I felt a little silly having a shower over it.  But, I agreed, and I was happy that I did.  It was a really fun evening, and they went all out...the theme was "mother to BEE" and everything was centered around that:

 Here was yummy orange bread hive with honey...

Here's the whole layout...with the food and decorations...

Here was the entry table with honey sticks and a sign that says, "We are so glad you could BEE here" and "Please be a honey and sign a card for Becca".  

Fruit that surprisingly looks "bee-ish":

Bee pops that were actually so yummy:

Doesn't that look like a bee?

 My favorite popcorn in the world:

So many of my friends made it for the the get together and it was so much fun.  I know that my friends spent so much time and energy making it a special night...and I'm so very grateful.  Our little girl will be grateful too, since she now has a more impressive wardrobe than a country music star!

Mother Guilt

Mother's day has this special way of making you see all the failures in your mothering.  I'm not sure if the  day just ends up being one of those "bad days" or if I am more acutely aware of my mothering and lack thereof on the day that celebrates my very existence.  My kids were awful in church (the worst stint in church we've had in months)...which resulted in several kids being taken out several different times throughout the meeting celebrating motherhood.  There was a lot of fighting at home and just...a general feeling of exasperation by all parties involved. 

I will stop here and reassure my friends that TPM treated me very well all weekend.  I basically slept for Saturday and Sunday and I really, really needed rest.  So, my hero he continues to be. 

But, our fairly unsuccessful Sunday got me thinking a lot about motherhood and what it means to be a good mom.  There has been quite the debate in our country the last few weeks about motherhood, and I have to admit that I was surprised at the debate.  I know that we don't all have the same picture of what motherhood looks like on a day to day basis, but I did think we had all come to the understanding that we are all trying to do the best we can.  But, all the debate proved was that we are all too consumed with being the best mother and judging every other mother around us.

Some mothers think that "good mothering" requires weekly trips to the zoo, library, and parks.  Others think it requires hours of reading and one-on-one time.  Others think it means kids that can walk in a perfectly straight line down the aisles of the grocery store, not touching a single thing, and not asking for anything to boot.  Others are convinced that the true hallmark of a good mother is their ability to know their ABCs and write their names before they are 4.

Over the past week, I've decided that a "good mother" is one that does the very best she can each day.  And, one day "my very best" will look very different from another day.  Maybe Tuesday, all I will be able to muster up is children that were able to survive the day by only consuming 5 packages of fruit snacks, 10 graham crackers, and 2 caprisuns (because that's what they snuck out of the pantry while I was trying to finish 3 important phone calls and by the time I gave them a "balanced meal" - they were full).  Maybe on Wednesday, they'll end up watching way too much TV, and played one too many video games, because I had a terrible night of sleep and could barely think straight much less structure a productive day for my children.  But, maybe Thursday, I might be able to get them to the park, laugh a few times while we are there, and remember to read a story to them before they climb in bed.  Those are really good days.  Those beautiful days when Bug will lay his head on the pillow and say, "Today was the best day ever".  But, they do not happen often enough.  And, I could make myself sick from guilt every other day that we can't have the "best day ever".  But, on the days where I see all my failings and drown in guilt, I find motherhood to be an overwhelming burden from which I am unable to climb out from underneath.

So, I refuse to live each day magnifying my failings.  I could literally make a list of a thousand failings and still have plenty of material to continue to the next thousand.  There is just no way to do it right every day all day long.  But, when the success of little lives depend on your ability to succeed at such an enormous role, any failing seems like it should be unacceptable.  On any day.  No matter how much rest I was able to get.  But, alas, Heavenly Father made resilient little spirits that are somehow able to glean the simple truths out of our constant failings.  And, while there are obviously exceptions, most children only remember the charming days of their childhood.  I was writing a card to my mom for mother's day and Blurbles came over and asked what I was doing.  I responded that I was writing a note to my mom for mother's day and he asked if he could write something in it.  I agreed.  And, he wrote in big lettering, "Thank you for being a good mom to my mom".

I'm sure my mom had failings.  She insists that she had many.  I can't remember any of them.  I'm pretty sure we watched too much TV.  She had 6 kids in 7 years, so I'm pretty sure we didn't get a lot of one-on-one time.  I can't remember ever going to the zoo, and we probably ate some fruit that wasn't organic. 

But, we were really happy.  And, our childhood was pretty magical.  We are a close family and we all love our children.  We try hard to be good people and support each other in the good times and bad.  Somehow my little boy could see that Grandma must have been a good mom...because for some crazy reason...he thinks I'm a good mom.  Maybe that could be the little success that I can hold on to, when I'm feeling like an utter failure. 

Blurbles was also telling me this week how excited he was for summer to come, because then he "could do whatever he wants".  I explained that he would still have a few things that needed to be done each day and that he would not probably be able to do "whatever he wants".  To which he replied, "Oh, well...I'll have to wait til I'm big to do whatever I want".  To which I explained that big people DO get to do whatever they want most of the time, but then I explained that Daddy has to work every day and take care of his family, which is a big responsibility.  Blurbles thought for a minute and responded, "I'm pretty happy I'm a boy then, because I think being a daddy and going to work is pretty hard but being a mommy is SUPER HARD!!!"

That...random Thursday...was a good mother's day.  I think I'll take that day over the designated Sunday in May.  Because on that day...my son was telling me...that he could see I was doing the best I could...and that that...was good enough. 

Family Bonding

Uncle Joe and his family came to visit on Brent's birthday...

Thank you for keeping all the boys entertained (he was showing the boys pictures of the "brothers' weekend away), to which James replied, "When I get big..I'm going to go to San Diego with all my brothers for 5 days!" To which I replied, "I'm not sure your wife will like that very much..." To which he correctly responded, "Hmmm... okay, maybe just 3 days?" 

Frew got to see his long lost twin...his cousin was born the same day as him...just in different states! They hit it off great:

Our kids are truly so excited any time they get to spend time with their cousins...

Later that night...Frew celebrated Dad's birthday over a big ol' piece of meat...

We love Dad...Happy Birthday!

Sigh!

Done...all done. 

Now, I'm going to go mop my floor. 

If I had a black graduation hat...I would throw it up in the air to land on my soon to be clean floor. 

Yay for me (and my poor family that has had to put up with me for the past 3 years)!

Home on the Range

Oh give me a home, where the Blurbly roams;

and the Bug and the Pupp-a-py play.

Where seldom is heard

Squeaker's loud shrieking words,

and Lil' N and Frew are happy all day.

This...is the beginning of our new home.  After house hunting for more than a year...we finally decided to make the plunge.  We are literally bursting out of our current home (I have NO idea where we are going to put the baby...I'm contemplating the living room...seriously).  We were thinking about offering on a foreclosure, but I really was hoping for one more bedroom than the home had, and so we were still not sure.  On a whim, TPM sent me to check with a home developer's office on a house plan that we had looked at a year ago, to make sure we didn't want to build.  And, I walked out of the office with papers signed, because it was significantly cheaper to build than to offer on the foreclosure (that had one less bedroom).  So...this is the dirt lot that will one day be our home:

And, this is the trenches for our plumbing.  This is the first week of building.  I promise not to post pictures of our house every week, but since it's our family journal...I'll probably have to throw a picture up every month until September...when we get to move in:



Exhaustion

There hasn't been a whole lot of blogging going on in our home.  Mostly...because...I'm...exhausted.  April has been a grueling month.  Many, many late nights, and every weekend has been something.  I went to my conference in Denver.  Two friends of mine and I gave a presentation at the CEC conference there.  That was a good experience, but also a little stressful.  TPM went to San Diego last weekend to hang out with his brothers.  I think they had a good time, but he was gone for 4 days, so obviously the boys and I missed him quite a bit.  I have two assignments left and a final...and then I will be done. 

We are very much looking forward to next week.  Our whole family needs less things on our plate.  I thought about "walking" for my graduation, but the thought of putting on this big, black gown in this heat when I'm 8 months pregnant was more than I could handle.  So, we'll have to settle for a little piece of paper that says, "Congratulations...you have finished this long, worthwile but exhausting 3 year project."

Then...I will blog again.

Stinky, Dirty Little Boys

This conversation happened between Blurbles and I when we were doing Saturday chores:

Blurbles: I don't really like doing chores that much (as he scrubs the dried, caked on urine off the toilet).

Mom: Welcome to life kid, none of us do.  But, I do chores every day of my life, and I'm not complaining.

Blurbles: You have chores every day?  Are your chores to clean up after us stinky, dirty little boys? 

Mom: (speechless for a few seconds as she processes the ingenious question of her 6 year old) Well, yes, those are my chores....

Thank You, Mr. Plumber



We have a lot of toilet issues in our house.  I have blogged about it for a few years.  When you take 6 boys and have them all share 1-2 bathrooms...there is going to be issues.  I have had to call out a plumber 4 times in the last year, and Brent has had to "unclog" a potty at least once a week for the last few months.  The problem is, that they really use a lot of wipes and toilet paper.  I know the answer would be to take the wipes out, but then we have a cleanliness issue...and which to choose?  I have chosen a clogged potty, but cleaner rears.  It's a hard choice, but I've made it.   

Moving on...

The reason I must finally vent about this...is because I am sick of the plumbers that come in here ready to "educate me" on proper potty usage.  Look, buddy - I get that we are not treating our potty with the tender loving care that it deserves, but we're doing the best we can.  Just unclog the stupid thing and be on your merry way.  But, nooooooo...they have to tell me about how "if you didn't do this" or "if you were more careful about this" or "did you know I found this?" because somehow it makes them feel less like the "plumber" and more like the "sanitation expert".  Look, you're a plumber, and in my world...your job is pretty important.  But, let's just stick to our own jobs.  I'll be the overwhelmed mom with too many boys that results in daily potty issues...and you be the nice man that helps me out (and I pay you a nice sum to do so).   

Enough with the lectures. 

Thank you...now I feel better.

4 more weeks...

3 tests down. 

One presentation in Denver to go...

5 assignments (big ones, but still 5 is a manageable number). 

And, then...freedom.  I will be done.    

Happy Birthday Bug!

Little Bug is 5.  He still looks like he's 3...but, indeed he is 5.  He's starting to get nervous about his readiness for kindergarten (I know, he's got 5 months, but he's a planner)...so, he's been practicing his penmanship every day to make sure "it's up to par". 

When the boys turned five, I had just had Frew and did not want to throw a party, but I told my kids they could have a party when they are 5, 8, and 12.  So, we had to have a party.  So, we did the Pump it Up party...very worth it.  Since that was such a success, Bug has been counting down the days to his own little Pump it Up party.  And, since I'm 6 months pregnant...it seemed a good solution. 

He had a lot of friends there, but I wasn't sure there moms would want their kids' pictures blastered all over my blog...so, here's a picture that is mostly my kids. 

It's a good thing that one of my greatest friends is the most creative person on the planet, because then my kids get awesome birthday cakes and favors...and I get to look like a mom that cares.  Here are her "Batman suckers".  I was stressed out to give them to the kids, because I knew they would never appreciate the sheer creativity of it all. 

Here is the amazing cake...that is a chocolate Gotham City with a chocolate Batman and Bat Symbol in the back.  Bug was in complete heaven.  He still talks about his "awesome cake".  Joi, you are the best.  Seriously.

Happy Birthday, Bug...we love you! You are an essential part of our little world.  :)