Moving

So Husband got a new job a couple of months ago. He is looking forward to the work and it is going to be a good move career-wise and its full time, which means we will have money coming in on a regular basis. That hasn't happened for a long time - so we are all kinds of excited.

Only problem is, the commute is a good 40 min with no traffic or weather. I know lots of people do that every day and think it is no big deal, but it is a big deal for us. Especially since public transport isn't great and he has to take our only car.

So we decided to move. I'm having all kinds of thoughts and emotions and things (good and bad) that I'll probably get around to sharing eventually.

For now, please be content with a series of pictures I like to call:

Interesting things we found when cleaning out our junk:

Dollhouse I've been working on building for the past several years. Found the last of the detail pieces and hung the door

Paid the children for every toy (of their own) that they were willing to get rid of. This is Child #1's stash.

A wax candle chicken. From my sister and my mom because I hate chickens.

The notebook I used to plan our wedding. These are sketches of the cake.

More of my wedding notes.

List I made Child #1 write. These are the things he has to do when he starts teasing a sibling.
If he doesn't choose one of these I give him something from my list. It is decidedly less fun.

Tea I bought for fabric dye. I still can't figure out why anyone would want to wake up like a buffalo.

Suspicious packing job of our medicine cabinet. That bag of green leaves is raspberry tea, I swear.

Cassette tape of MC Hammer. Its John's, I swear.

Computer disks. A whole big stack of them.

Mini disks. Remember these? Yeah, nobody else does either.

Cycle beads. For use as birth control in 3rd world countries with non-literate populations. You start out the first day of your period with the black marker on the red bead. Every day you move the marker one bead. When the marker is on a glow in the dark bead you may be fertile and should not have sex. Also makes a beautiful necklace and conversation starter/stopper.

My American Girl doll and accessories. Hours of fun and entertainment. 

Goodbye notes from school friends

Tiny glasses for a slightly less tiny child.

Yet another Etiquette Lesson

These are my daughters. If you've seen me out and about, this is my usual entourage. They are delightful and adorable, ages 5, 3, and 2. And they bring up yet another etiquette lesson that I know you have all been waiting for on the edges of your seats.

I've seen many people struggling to find the right words, so let me tell you here: There is NO polite way to ask me if my children all have the same father.

If you don't know me well enough to know that what you are implying is ridiculous, you don't know me well enough to ask about it in the first place.

 And I know you'e watched Jerry Springer and reality TV. But the fact that anyone thinks that I would have had time to start dating someone new with a toddler and a newborn vastly overestimates my abilities to shower regularly, let alone shave my legs and try to attract someone who doesn't get off on sleep deprivation and nursing bras.

Genetics is strange, I'll agree. But the baby looks a lot like me. So if you are looking at me with my brown hair and brown eyes, please don't ask me if my new boyfriend is Latino. Even if you are yourself, Latino. I know it is meant as a complement, but I don't know the appropriate response.

I have a handful of family and friends who have mixed-race families, and my stories of rude people are nothing in comparison to theirs. So as a public service I would like to remind us all: a stranger's sex life is none of your business, no matter how curious you are.

*  *   *

My seven-year-old was reading this post over my shoulder while he was supposed to be doing his math homework.

"Mom, what does that mean, "There is no polite way to ask me if my children all have the same father"?

"Well, it means that some people have looked at your sisters and because they don't look alike thought I must have had sex with someone besides your father, which is ridiculous, and very rude to ask about in the grocery store."

"Really? Well..... what about me?"

"You? You are my kid! And we're at home. You can ask me anything you want."

"Anything?" And he gets this little smirk on his face.

"Yes. Anything."

"Ok." And then he walked away.

He is the type of kid who needs to process things for a while, but I'm sure it is still there in the back of his mind. So if this post does nothing else, it opened a door for a future conversation. Totally worth it.

My life as a newspaper article

(written by an 8-year-old)

This is a piece of my third grader's "getting to know you" poster for school. It says: "Mom: She cooks dinner, she washes our clothes, she makes babies. She is my mom. My mom loves to read and so do I."

It is sweet, and also a bit sad. I didn't realize my life could be contained in three simple sentences.

 But there it is. 

Also, this is the picture he included of himself. 

He is dressed as a ninja-wizard-superhero with a laser ring on his finger. (Obviously)

Milestones

Yet another post that may make you very glad that you are not me.

Baby #5 and I have reached an amazing milestone.

She is 1 and I am not pregnant.

Guys, this has never happened to me before. I had six pregnancies in seven years. I've never had a one-year-old and not been throwing up because of the next one. I'm not quite ready to give up on adding to our family down the road, but I am having a blast with this whole NOT PREGNANT thing.

I've always loved one-year-olds, but I'm getting to enjoy her all of the time. It is awesome.

And she is such a doll. She has this great little personality and is in no danger at all of being left behind or lost in the mix of older siblings. I feel like I could look at her all day and never get enough. I feel this way about all my kids - but it bears repeating here. Every child is the sweetest and the best. I can't imagine my life without any of them, and loving one does not at all diminish how much I adore the others.

Eating someone's plant experiment.

Playing with Mommy when she should be sleeping. But I can't get enough of her adorable face.

New tricks.

The great birthday season

Scene: My oldest is turning 1 - he is the first grandchild on both sides of the family and we are having a party. Immediate family only, so that makes 15 -20 people to cram into our small apartment.  I insisted on making a cake and cleaning the house - not particularly unreasonable, but in practice nearly impossible. See, I don't know it yet, but I am pregnant with #2 and the hormones have given me a split personality - and not a nice cute one either, think "Hulk SMASH!" Husband still shudders when we bring up that day. 

I think I gave him PTSD.

I kept trying for a couple more years, but eventually I just gave up on birthdays.  It isn't worth the stress it causes me. And my kids really only care about the presents anyway. If you are the mom who decorates and invites the whole class over and bakes the cake herself and hand-makes all the party favors... well, I'm quite sure good mother-hood is not measured by the pictures on your pinterest board, and I won't waste my time comparing myself to you or feeling bad that I don't measure up. If that kind of thing makes you happy, awesome.  Our celebrations are much more low key.  

By the way, I do kind of worry about birthday party etiquette. If my kid gets invited to your kid's birthday party will you feel bad if your kid doesn't get a return invitation? My boys seem to have gotten fewer birthday invitations this year than they did last year, and I'm not sure if it is because parents have wised up and stopped torturing themselves at all, or if they just quit inviting my kids because we didn't reciprocate. It doesn't change anything.  There is still NO WAY I am throwing a birthday party for my kids. But at least I would know which parents I should apologize to.

Husband, and children 2,3 and 5 all have birthdays within a three week period. So here are some pictures:

The four-year-old got princess pjs, a tiara and shoes.  Here she is dancing with her little sis.

And of course, a princess is supposed to keep her tiara ON.  Even in the bathtub.

Combined one and four-year-old celebration with Batman cupcakes and flower candles (naturally) 

Waiting patiently for presents.

Baby was full of spaghetti (her favorite) and upset that I put her back in her chair just for some yucky old cupcake.

And we went to the park, where they spent the better part of an hour ignoring the playground equipment to roll in the grass.

She is so beautiful.

 And the seven-year-old got to go to the party-supply store and pick out little alligators to go on top of his cupcakes, since the gluten-free ones don't come from Smiths with little toys on top.

 This made him very happy.

And he got Legos and a princess baby doll. Exactly what he wanted. He was SO excited.

I didn't even get a picture of Husband's birthday. Which involved date night and me NOT telling the waitress that it was his birthday.  And a marvelous time was had by all.

The end (for a couple of months)

Happenings

(Sorry for another picture dump.  It's about all I have brain cells for right now.)

This smile brought to you courtesy of two days worth of antibiotics.

 "Look, Mom! I'm an old lady."

Airhead mommy let the baby play with a self-inking non-washable stamp.  Oops.

 Playing with my old My Little Pony and John's old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. (Which are cool again)

Child #3 is a lot of fun, and when she is happy, she just has to hug everything in sight. Several times a day I try to smile while she strangles me.  

Child #1 is dropping hints.  I found this on the fridge.

I

I love that we have matching eyes.  The matching bags under them from being up all night I could do without.

 

Ballerinas

Christmas Lowlights

The day after Christmas we were hit with "the Cold from Hell." Seriously, this is a villain, my arch-nemesis, worthy of it's own evil theme song.  The bass line would be rhythmic coughing.  Cue the fever, body aches, coughing, sneezing and of course, WHINING.  And then Husband spread it to the kids as well.  (Just kidding.  Husband doesn't really whine.  He just sits on the couch wrapped in a blanket and shivering until I send him to bed)

My only (and very disappointing I might add) super-power seems to be that I don't get colds very often.  I spent so many years working with little virus carrying kids that I've already had every bug available.  So I get the sniffles and everyone else is on their death beds.  That, or maybe I'm just a WOMAN, and I don't have the option of NOT getting up and taking care of everyone.  

(pause in the re-telling of our pathetic week to enjoy some cold-related humor)

I feel so bad when one of my kids is sick, but all five at once? Whole new level of awful. I've spent every night for the last two weeks sleeping in hour long increments and going from bed to bed dispensing medicine and Vicks and drinks and tissues and hugs (and occasionally saying "poor little bunny")

And I've never seen anything more pathetic in my life than a 6 month old trying not to cough because it hurts so much.  She doesn't even cry anymore.  She just looks at me with tears in her eyes and hums.  Its very sad.  

I know that a lot of my friends (at least on facebook) are sick or their kids are sick.  I've been kind of confused by all the "sick kids updates" in my newsfeed lately.  What is the point?  Many of them seem to be simply to let friends know what is going on, and I get that.  I don't get the other super-detailed "this is awful" updates.  Especially multiple times a day. I'm just not sure how to respond.  Obviously, you can't "like" their complaining.  I feel bad for them - I really do; its just that after saying "I'm sorry" and "I know how you feel" what are you supposed to say? I know they don't want me to try and one-up them with how sick my kids are, and it isn't like I should be giving medical advice.  It just makes me feel awkward when ALL someone does is complain.


Especially when complaining about a blessing.  I have lots of friends who would give ANYTHING for the privilege of having children to comfort in the night.  Friends who once had that, but now it is the silence at night that is breaking their hearts. And I chose this.  No one forced me to have this many kids.  And I can't even pretend I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I knew it would sometimes be like this. It feels ungrateful to complain that I had to hold my precious little ones an hour more than I wanted to.

So it is with some trepidation that I post this at all.  I don't want your sympathy.  You know how it feels to have a cold.  We all do. This is one of the most universal human conditions.  And I know that. It is just part of life.  Not one of the more fun parts, I grant you.  Still, you know how I'm feeling.

So I'm posting this mainly to let you know that you are reading about real life from a real family here on the ole' blog.  I don't usually write about this stuff because if, at the end of the day I have a few seconds to myself, I don't want to spend it reliving the worst bits.  And I don't want you to think that we live some kind of perfect life (Adrienne).  My children don't always ooze adorableness and rainbows.  Sometimes they just ooze.  And yeah, it sucks.

A couple of things have been on my mind through this.  I've heard lots of moms say that they hate when their kids are sick and they just wish they could be sick for them.  That's crazy.  Maybe if my child had something serious, or life-threatening, it would be different.  But a cold? One thing I learned when my oldest was only two weeks old: If someone is going to be sobbing on the couch - it had better be the kid.  Because I can help them, but they can't (and shouldn't have to) help me.  So there is my plug for taking care of mommy first.

what it looks like when a real
man sleeps with two girls at once

And also I've been thinking about the Savior.  He suffered for the sins of the world and made it possible that we can repent and return to Him.  When I was younger, I always thought when we came to Him with problems He would say essentially, "Suck it up.  I suffered for everyone's sins.  Your agony is nothing compared to mine."

But it isn't like that at all.  He went through all that so that He would know how to comfort us - how to understand exactly what we are going through.  He wants to help us, not prove how much stronger He is.

That has become more real to me this past couple of weeks.  Because when my friends with two kids tell me how hard it is to get up at night with sick kids, I'm not tempted to remind them that I have five.  I'm just sorry.  I know how it feels.  We're all just trying to hang on, and maybe we can get through this, together.

Christmas Highlights

Some awesome, anonymous neighbor brought us this gingerbread house with a new train car and a little poem every night for the last week or so before Christmas.  It was beautiful and professional-looking and fun.

 Unfortunately, I didn't know what (if any) of the parts were gluten-free, so we made another one, just for Child #2.  Obviously not beautiful and professional-looking, but still fun.  Yet another great example of what happens to good/cutesy ideas when you bring them into our house.

The kiddos all got pajamas for Christmas eve.  (I'm actually very disappointed that the Batman pajamas I tried to get were back-ordered for the girls' sizes.  I guess monkey ballerinas are OK too.  But Batman would have been cooler.) 

 My Little Ponies are VERY exciting.

As are giant lollipops. 

 All the kids got hooded bath towels, which came in very handy for keeping all their stuff from getting mixed up from everyone else's stuff.  But it didn't keep the baby from crawling all over and sucking on everything. 

Child #1 got a very cool Hex-Bug (we have quite a collection now).  This one moves in a very creepy-bug-like manner that sends Child #4 screaming from the room every time we turn it on.   

Also, every time my kids pretend to be an animal, that animal has some kind of claws.  And they are always wishing they could grow their fingernails long enough to sharpen them into points.  So I bought press-on nails and filed them into points and painted them black with red blood dripping off the ends and became the coolest mommy ever.  For like half a day.  Then the glue didn't work anymore and I've been un-sticking tiger claws from the bottom of socks for a week.  Bonus: they didn't stay on long enough for anyone to actually get scratched. Win.

I have to admit, Christmas usually stresses me out.  I get all caught up in trying to MAKE it fun for everyone that I'm depressed and angry and no-one is enjoying anything.  I love that people have all these great Christmas traditions that they look forward to every year.  But I've realized that I can't do that.  I'm just not that mom.  I decided that our most important Christmas tradition is that we have fun.  If it isn't fun, we won't do it.  And even things that could be fun, but won't be because I have a bad attitude we will avoid.  So that has been my focus this year.  And it was great.  I didn't fuss about making sure our celebration was traditional or religious or like anyone else's.   I have had more fun this Christmas than I have in a very long time.