Wordless Wednesday-High Dive

More Wordless Wednesdays here.

Go visit Karen

Karen wrote a beautiful post that I think is just profound. I feel like one of the biggest enemies of mothers everywhere is the comparison game and Karen just nailed it. So in honor of my choices this morning, specifically the choice to play Lego Star Wars 2 with Caedmon despite the fact that we are having company for supper and the toilets really need to be scrubbed, I give you Karen's post: Keeping Score.

Battery Operated?

Setting: A rainy afternoon, in the van, pulling out of the Walmart parking lot. Caedmon (two weeks from 5) is asking me about death and I just finished telling him a big long story about how our bodies are like a house and when we are done with them we move out.

Caedmon: "So we get a new body in heaven?"

Me: "Yep, there will be no scraped knees and no owies and no crying and everyone will be perfect."

Caedmon: "Mom? We will be made out of metal?!"

After a bit more explanation and discussion about how there is no sin in heaven because we will be perfect Caedmon replies with: " You mean God will control us?"

Yes Caedmon, heaven is full of remote controlled metal robots. Hmmm, not really the image I was getting......

Cry

This morning, after a very late Friday night, I pulled open my swollen, red eyes and cringed at the pulsing headache coursing through my brain. Was this some kind of a hangover? No. I'm not a drinker. I'm a reader. A reader who stayed up waaaay too late drinking in one of the saddest stories I have ever read. I devour books, dangerously shoving everything else in my world onto the back burner, which is why I don't read often. My family likes to eat and wear clean clothes.

It has been a while since a book gripped me the way that this one did. I was about a quarter of the way through it when I grabbed it off of the counter and plopped down on the couch at about nine-thirty last night. I didn't move until I turned the last page at one-thirty. Well, there was the trip to the kitchen for the box of Kleenex. They were a necessity. The tears started to fall and before I knew it I was completely sobbing. Snotting type sobbing. Shoulder shaking sobs, it was definitely an ugly-face cry. It got to the point that I almost couldn't see the words on the page in front of my face, so tragic was the story. This morning, my eyelids hurt.

The book was "Fair is the Rose" by Liz Curtis Higgs, a sequel to "A Thorn in My Heart". If you haven't read it and intend to then don't read on. I'm about to drop some spoilers.

Only they aren't really spoilers because the book was very predictable. I think that is what made it so sad. I knew exactly what was coming. Set in Scotland in the 1700's, this was basically a retelling of the biblical story of Leah and Jacob and Rachel. It was a story I was very familiar with and that had always haunted me. How did it really go down that wedding night in the tent? How did he not know that it was Leah, not Rachel in his bed? How in the world did the sisters even BEGIN to go on with daily life after the drama that had just gone down? I know "Fair is the Rose" is a work of fiction but it brought real life flesh to the story. It brought to light deep emotions that must have been very real to those three who were really there.

As I read my bible lately, I've really been trying to put my self in the shoes of the people I am reading about. What was it like for them? They were real people just like us with laundry and chapped lips. I really want to get a grasp on the humanity that is all over the pages. Real lives. Sometimes I think the stories become so familiar and so routine that we forget about the emotions and decisions that were so real to those involved.

When I finished reading of Leana and Rose and Jaime, I had a new found compassion for Leah and Rachel and Jacob. What a tangled mess their lives were. The betrayal and raw love is gut-wrenching. But there was a plan, a greater purpose that threaded it's way through their situation. God's hand was on them, no matter what. And last night it touched me deeply. The pile of Kleenex in my trash can is proof.

Good bye Summer

My children love me more than they know. They love me so much that they wanted to spare me too much grief over our separation on their first days of school. So they concocted an intricate plan, taking into consideration my delicate psyche. They knew that if they made the last few days of summer too heavenly, I would mourn the loss of their presence. My children, in their loving hearts, made sure to fight and bicker and complain as much as possible that last week. I know they did it for me. They did it so it wouldn't be so hard for me to say good bye. Thanks kids.

As I sit here and munch on the last of today's first-day-of-school chocolate chip cookies, I'm saying good bye to summer.

Good bye bright colored annuals.


Good bye pool.

Good bye go-cart.

Good bye parades and the candy you brought us.

Good bye bullfrogs.

Good bye family baseball games.

Good bye barefoot afternoons.

Good bye homemade hammocks.

Good bye sunkissed shoulders.

Good bye butter drenched corn on the cob.

Good bye Little League.

Good bye rope swing.

Good bye summer.

Confession

Dear Kids,

I just wanted you to know what kind of a mother I really am. All that talk of sharing and of selflessness that I blabber on about, well, I'm a hypocrite. I need to get something off of my chest.

Today, while I was out running errands with Gemma and you were all at home with your Aunt Mariah, I made one special stop. I stopped at Mc Donald's and bought myself an ice cream cone. It was a very, very tall ice cream cone. Not at all a baby cone like I always make you all get. Gemma's carseat is directly behind me, so I know she didn't see it. I ate that ice cream cone all by myself and I did not share with anyone and I did not buy one for any of you. In fact, when I realized that I wasn't going to be able to finish it before I got home, I did something terrible.

I parked a block away from our house and I ate that ice cream cone in peace and quiet. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. Aside from all of your births of course.

And also there is a box of Twinkies on the top shelf of the pantry that none of you know about. They are all mine.

Sincerely,

Your Mother

A Rite of Passage

Eventually every child must discover the cold, hard truth for themselves.

School Shopping Perks

When you take your kids to the buy-one-get-one-half-off shoe sale it can be tortureous. I knew I was in trouble when Noelle sighed and said, "Mom, we are here for school shoes, can we start looking for us now?" I couldn't help it. Tyler suggested that they put blinders on me so I wouldn't be distracted. I really tried to behave myself and only took three pairs of shoes to the register, all for the kids. In my head I was playing a little game with my self. If the employee at the cash register asks about getting a fourth pair for half off, then it's a sign from God that it's my destiny. He did. Bless that man. I give you, the fourth pair:




Beautiful huh?! These are similar to the ones I got, mine don't have the cork they are all white. I bought them to go with my white dress. Ooooh, have I ever told you about my white dress? I'm getting butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. Or maybe that's just the pancakes I had for breakfast. I found a fabulous white dress at Forever 21. It's kind of like this but not polkadot, it's eyelet lace. I'm in love with it. Luuuuuhv. It.

Oh, we are talking about school shopping. See? Distracted.

We hit the Old Navy dressing room with a vengeance. Clothes were off and on and off and on and then we had to make decisions. As we left, my pocket book was a whole lot lighter but our bags were full. And then.......

.....we went to Cold Stone.

The shoes. The ice cream. I could die now and be happy.

A Woman After My Own Heart.

No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.

-Erma Bombeck

Friday Flashback-The Beast

No, not Satan or 666. Our van.

Last June, as my due date quickly approached, Nate and I shot each other several emails a day. Our little Mothership with a hot pink stripe (Mercury Villager) was full of children and the coming arrival would force us to either buy a new, bigger van, or drive two vehicles. I hated to give up that thing. For awhile I had a mini disco ball hanging from the rearview mirror. It was like a little rave every time we went to the grocery store. Especially when I cranked up some tunes on my tape deck. It had it's flaws, one being the clicking noise it made every time I hit the gas pedal. Something about the exhaust manifold and hundreds of dollars, but who really knows. Another being the sliding door that didn't open from the outside and the passenger lock that was broken because some little child had poked a stick inside. But alas, we were outgrowing it and we needed to pass it on to another loving family. (Pawn it off on whoever would give us a couple hundred bucks.)

So we emailed and emailed. Nate surfed ebay like it was a mother wave. The subjects of his emails usually read: Vans or Is this the one? or This is it! or How about this one? You see, we had seen the future, and it was bright. But it was only available on eBay. Somehow, in all of our looking, we had stumbled across 12 and 15 passenger vans that didn't have bench seats. These beauties had captain seats and even and aisle. Most of them were old airport and hotel shuttles, but some of them were new and shiny and very expensive. We knew that after seeing the other side, we could never cram everyone into an 8 passenger vehicle. Besides, if we ever had another addition to the family, then we would be back to the vehicle hunt. (no, I'm not pregnant) So the search continued. The emailing continued. My due date approached.

Gemma was due on June 8th. We purchased a 1998 12 passenger Ford E-250 on that day. It was in New Jersey.

As soon as I came home from the hospital with our new little baby, Nate caught a flight to the East Coast to retrieve our other "little" baby. His trip was full of countless adventures. I will twist his arm and see if he will write a short ditty about the labor pains he suffered to bring home the big red Beast. But he arrived, exhausted and in one piece, with our new mode of transportation. Despite the poor gas mileage. Despite the dings and scrapes it has already suffered at the hands of our children, we love that thing. We have put it though the fire in the year that we have owned it. It had been backed into three times, twice in the first week that it was ours. You would think that the sheer size of the thing would make it more visible than most cars. Nope. I should just paint a big target on the side that says: hit me.

We love that we can seat all of the children out of touching distance of each other.
We love the TV and sound system that Nate installed.
We do not love 11 miles per gallon, 15 on the highway.

We love that we can fit five child sized bikes behind the backseat.
We love not having to remember where we parked because it is visible from outerspace.
We do not love parallel parking.

Our baby.


Our other baby. (see how it dwarfs the Chevy Astro)


The inside.

Jack's Traumatic Morning in Haiku

You sobbed and you screamed.
Haircuts from Mom are no fun.
Now we'll call you Buzz.

or


The clippers come near.
You can't stop touching your face.
Hair is in your mouth.

Works For Me Wednesday- Vacation Journal

In honor of our trip last week, I give you the vacation journal. (The photo is from a trip in 2001.)

This is a little tradition that my Mom used to do whenever we went on a trip as kids. All you need is a small spiral notebook and a pen. I guess you could use whatever works for you. A napkin and a crayon. A dry erase board and your least favorite lipstick. The back of your hand and a sharpie. I use the same notebook for all of our vacations. When it fills up, I will start a new one. We take it on the trip with us and then everyday someone writes an entry about what we did that day. Being the control freak that I am, I have appointed myself the One and Only Writer. Everyone else gets to draw pictures. I usually note the weather and give a brief summary of the day. I make sure to write down any funny stories. The kids draw pictures of whatever stood out to them. I'm telling ya people, kids have eeen-teresting perspective.

It's a ton of fun to look back and remember all the good times. I'm hoping someday my kids will read them to me when I'm old and forgetful. Who am I kidding, I'm young and forgetful! I don't think the memory is going to get any better from here on out.

Memory joggers, I mean, vacation journals. They work for me.

More tips over at Shannon's place.

You Can't Keep A Determined Kid Out

What the Laundry Pile kids think of "child saftey locks".

Post Vacation

Vacation was just heavenly. There is nothing better than waking up, feeding the kids breakfast, packing a lunch, and hitting the beach. All day. Everyday. We had wonderful weather and had so much fun with Nate's family. Lots of laughing and eating and fishing and snorkeling and swimming and sunbathing. Pink cheeks, noses, and shoulders. My favorite color of summer.

Forgive me while I whine a bit.

*stomping my feet and clenching my fists like a three year old*

I don't WANT to be drug back into real life.

We reluctantly left "up North" yesterday at about two thirty in the afternoon. We thought we were giving ourselves enough time to drive home, unpack, and ease back into the real world. We forgot about the fact that we were traveling with small children. Lots of small children. Short story: after much caffeine and lots of loud music, and a few driver-changes, we pulled into the driveway at 12:30 am. Like zombies. We were so stinking tired. We ARE so stinking tired.

Anyway, I'm on post-vacation letdown. It's kind of ironic that today we register the kids for school. Maybe we'll rebel. Maybe instead of unpacking, getting groceries, mowing the knee deep lawn, we'll extend vacation a bit and (shhhhh) go to the pool.

Vacation

Well, we are officially on vacation. Right now. Right this very minute.

We left about noon and we are headed north, to the lake in northern Minnesota. So far we have watched El Dorado and most of the Phantom of the Opera. Pipe cleaners were a great diversion, we constructed bracelets, a spider and a beautiful flower sculpture.

We had to make a couple of stops for potty breaks and a couple of stops for our growling stomachs, and Nate just announced that: "That's it. We aren't stopping again until we get there." Mapquest says it's a seven hour trip. So far we are at seven and a half with another hour and a half to go. Mapquest doesn't have six kids.

Thanks to Mr. Techtronic himself, I am able to surf the internet as we cruise along the highway. The connection is about as fast as dial-up but I'm not complaining. Let's all sing along with Kip. "Yeeeees, I love technology." Check it out, I took these pics with the camera phone and then emailed them to myself in the middle of a pine forest.

I guess I'm a little nerdier than I thought.

Ok. I'm outtie like a belly button. I'll think of you all as I'm sunning myself on the beach.