"I don't want plenty, I want too much!"

A Wee Bit Into St. Patrick's Day...

2011-03-25T19:01:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's because I'm Irish. Maybe it's because Quinn went to Notre Dame. Maybe it's because I love Lucky Charms & feeding my children all things green one day a year. Or maybe I just have a penchant for green food coloring. Whatever it is, I LOVE St. Patrick's Day!

So when Tanner was asked to build a leprechaun trap for school, we (uh, I mean he) had a great time with it! We tried to outsmart those contrary little leprechauns with a little reverse psychology:

And my little leprechauns were so excited to wake up and find that their own leprechaun traps had been sprung. Somebody tapped on my face at 6 am to tell me: "Mom- I think we caught a leprechaun! And guess what? He totally messed up our rooms! They're a mess!" (Actually, that was because they forgot to pick up their rooms the night before, but we went with it.) And then there were squeals of delight when they discovered the green "pee" (ie, food coloring) in the toilet. "Mom! Mom! That crazy leprechaun used our bathroom and forgot to flush!" They even made us sleep in green pajamas just in case a leprechaun tried to come and pinch us!

Even the dog got into the spirit of the day:

And the big kids? Well, they drew the line at talking in an Irish accent all day (though that didn't stop me!) But they tolerated my silliness, they ate my green eggs and ham for dinner, and they wore green. Carter even announced, "I used Irish Spring soap today especially for you, Mom." What a good lad!

A Visit From Aunt Katie!

2011-02-04T15:34:00.001-08:00

We were delighted to have Quinn's sister, Katie, come visit us this past weekend! Besides being super cool and a load of fun, she is like a human playground for my little guys and they adore her. She all but stepped off the plane before they attacked her.

We hadn't seen Katie since October 2009 at our Disney World Bastian Family Reunion. As you can see, not much has changed. The kids love nothing more than hanging all over poor Katie!

On Saturday, we all went ice skating at the outdoor rink at Riverfront Park. The little ones had never been on ice skates before, and we were nervous about how it would go. They LOVED it and spent over 2 1/2 hours on the ice before we could drag them away.

Besides ice skating and shadowing Katie's every move, the kids learned a new trick. Katie introduced them to a computer distortion program called "fat booth". They spent hours laughing at distorted versions of themselves and, when that was unavailable, found ways to distort things themselves:

Quotables

2011-01-19T19:15:00.001-08:00

We all know that I have not been the most diligent blogger. And I'm horrible about keeping a journal (although I just did a church Activity Days lesson with 10 - 12 year girls about the importance of journaling... ooh, the hypocrisy!) But there is one thing I have done with regularity: I write down all the silly/funny/cute things my kids say. And I have a hefty backlog now, so I'll share a few:

Today Bailey held out a DVD for me to turn on when Riley shrieked, "Noooo! Bailey, you can't hold my Sleeping Beauty DVD like that! You have to hold it by it's belly button so it'll be safe!" Huh? She demonstrated, sticking her finger through the hole in the middle. "See? Use it's belly button so it won't get scratched."

Sydney is the only triplet able to ride a bike without training wheels. Much to the vexation of her sisters, she picked it up in no time. But, sweetheart that she is, there is no gloating. In fact, she tries like crazy to teach them how to ride their new bikes. Today she was holding Bailey on the bike in the road and called out, "Look, Mom! I am demonstreeting to Bailey how to ride a bike! They call it demonstreeting cuz you teach somebody how to do it in the street. Cool."

Riley to Bailey: "Hey, no tattling. Just remind your own business!"

Last week I was reading to the kids using my (very good) French accent.
Tanner: "Can you stop talking like that?"
Me: "What? You don't like my French accent?"
Tanner (perplexed): "Who's Jackson?"
Me (perplexed): "Uh, I don't know. Jackson who?"
Tanner: "Your friend Jackson."
Me (still perplexed): "Uh, I don't have a friend named Jackson, I don't think."
Tanner: "But you just said... your friend Jackson. You were reading like your friend, Jackson."
Me: "Ohhhhh... my French accent!"
Tanner: "Could you stop talking like him, please?"

Bailey, last month when Sydney had a cold: "Oh my gosh, I could not sleep at all cuz Sydney was totally snorkeling all the night long."

Me, calling down the stairs: "Hey, are you guys being good?" Silence.
Tanner: "Well, that depends... My good might be different than your good."

One night I made an adventurous curry dinner that only half of the children liked. Bailey was teasing Riley for liking the "dasgusting" food so much when Riley replied: "Don't be rude, Bailey! Remember- we all have different taste bugs on our tongues that tell us what to like. Jeez!"

Sydney: "You guys are constracting me & I'm trying to do my homework!"

Tanner played flag football during September & October. At the first game, I was talking to him at the sidelines.
Me: "So... the whole point of this is that you try to grab the other team's flag?"
Long silence followed by a shrug.
Tanner: "No one really knows."

Tanner, singing at Christmas time: "Release Navi Dog... Release Navi Dog!"
Me (chuckling): "That's a great Christmas song, Tanner."
Tanner: "Yeah, I really like it. But I have no idea what a Navi Dog is. Maybe it's like a chihuaua. But then I wouldn't release it. I'd keep that Navi Dog!"

Tanner, talking to my parents when they came to visit in November: "You know, I have like seventeen bucks!"
Grandma: "Wow, that's a lot of money! How'd you get so rich?"
Tanner: "Well... I lost a lot of teeth."

Christmas Morning- A Personality Inventory

2011-01-04T15:08:00.000-08:00

I'm a total sucker for personality inventories: The Color Code (Red-Blue!), Love Languages (Acts of Service- if you love me, you'll do the dishes), RIASEC Inventory (Social all the way)... My best friend and I can have entire conversations based upon the "Color Codes"of others. (eg- "So my new neighbor is a total Red. But she's married to a Yellow- you can imagine how that plays out.")

I've spent vast amounts of time analyzing my own children and trying to figure out which categories they fall into with the different inventories. But on Christmas morning this year, I discovered a personality inventory that puts all others to shame for, in opening their Christmas presents, the true personality of each of my kiddos manifested themselves plainer than the nose on Rudolph's face. Accordingly, I've developed "The Christmas Morning Personality Inventory" with the following categories:

"The Grateful Receiver"- Carter
Carter's Christmas wish list this year consisted entirely of books. I'm not kidding. Like 20 books, many of them hard-t0-find and spendy. But when a child asks for books, well, you give him books. From "How to Get a Five on the AP US History Exam," "Preparing For the AP Physics Exam," and "Tonal Music"" to all things Tolstoy... Carter received each of his gifts with sweet gratitude and excitement. He immediately cracked open each book upon receipt and proceeded to ignore the rest of us until it was time for him to open another present- er- book. Of course we threw in a few surprises not on the bibliophile's list (Chia SpongeBob, Peanuts Christmas CD, etc.) and he was equally gracious about receiving these. But then it was back to the books. Just like in his every day life.

"The Gusher"- Taylor
Tay is certainly the most fun to shop for because I know she will be THRILLED with each and every present she receives. Never fail, she will jump out of her seat and gush about whatever it is she has opened- "Wow... an electric blanket! How awesome! This is great! I didn't even know I wanted one of these!" or "No way! Brainetics! This was at the top of my list! I totally wanted this so bad! But I didn't think you'd be able to get it! This is the best Christmas ever!" Each of these gift-opening events is followed by big hugs and kisses to the giver. You can see why it is so gratifying to give to this child. She's a gusher- as is her way with life, she opens it all with gusto and expresses her joy and gratitude to the fullest. Every family needs a gusher.

"The Introspective Receiver"- Tanner
Tanner is the exact opposite of The Gusher. No matter what gift he receives (from the remote control helicopter he'd been dying for to a brand new bike he begged Santa for), the giver must not ever hope for a demonstrative display. That is simply not Tanner's style. He receives everything with a quiet intensity and a softly whispered acknowledgement: "A remote control helicopter." As if to say, "Oh, of course, a remote control helicopter. Exactly what I'd been wanting. Of course." He then proceeds to open the packaging and read all instructions and become completely absorbed in that task. It can be underwhelming to behold. But underneath all that introspection lies Tanner's easy-going security. He seems to lead a charmed life, and is secure in his confidence that the universe will give him exactly what he wants. Or, if not the universe, perhaps he just knows that he has both parents wrapped around his charmed little finger.

"The Joyful Giver"- Sydney
When it was time to open family presents, Sydney was beside herself with excitement. Not for unwrapping all the gifts with her name on them, mind you, but because she could not wait to give out the gifts she'd gotten for everybody else. "Can we open mine first?" she begged. "Well, we need to take turns so each person opens a present," I replied. "No, I mean can we have everybody open my presents to them first? Pleeeeease?!?" Uh... okay. And, despite the fact that we had the kids draw names for their siblings, Syd had a gift for EVERYONE. For weeks, she would come home from school and ask for wrapping paper so she could giftwrap a present for somebody. I figured she must be drawing pictures or making things at school for her siblings. Au contraire... as we opened Syd's presents, we discovered the true source of her gift-giving: The Lost and Found. Yes, we each received something that Sydney found on the bus, left behind by some poor child who is probably still looking for his mittens! But if anybody in this family is getting to heaven based on good intentions, it will be Sydney. She loves nothing more than helping and caring about everybody else. She is so sweet, so sincere, and so earnest in all that she does.

"The Suspiciously Brave-Faced Observer"- Bailey
It is not in Bailey's nature to be thrilled for others when they are opening a gift that she herself would like to possess. It was torture for her to watch others opening their presents on Christmas morning, but -shockingly- she put on the bravest of faces. Through gritted teeth and a painfully tight smile she would say, "Oh Sydney, you got a Liv doll! That is so great for you!" or ""Wow, Riley, you got a LiteBrite! That is very happy." Time and time again. It was almost hard to watch. I kept waiting for the cheerful facade to crack, but she held to it and was eventually rewarded with a Liv doll and LiteBrite of her own. But that's Bailey for you- she's a scrappy little fighter, suspiciously watching to make sure things will go her way and perfectly willing to duke it out if they don't. Yet she has days where she tries oh-so-very-hard to "be nice for Santa and Jesus." And, trust me, it is NOT an easy task for her. She is lots of spice with a dash of sugar, and she definitely gets an "A" for the effort!

"The OCD Opener"- Riley
For Riley, the joy of Christmas morning was less about opening presents and more about promptly disposing of the wrapping paper. She took great delight in throwing away all gift wrap and was completely determined to do so before she would allow herself to even really look at her gift. I have more video footage of Riley cleaning up after her Christmas presents than I do of her opening or playing with these presents. She even picked up after her siblings! To each her own. She's a funny little thing. This is my child who lines up all her crayons in a certain order before she colors. When she does her homework, she not only circles the right answer, but insists on crossing out all the wrong answers as well. She likes things to be "just so", and once she has an idea of how things should be in her head, she stubbornly sticks to it. With the chaos of six kids in the house, a little OCD is a breath of fresh air!

2011: New Year's Resolutions

2011-01-01T14:45:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year 2011 to everyone! I know resolutions tend to be very personal, but I decided to share mine this year:

1. BLOG
2. shock my wonderful family & friends by writing on my BLOG
(I'm talking to you, Kelly Bishop!)
3. catch up on about a year and a half's worth of events... on my BLOG
4. update the music playlist on my BLOG
5. redesign (get rid of this tired floral pattern) my BLOG
6. reconnect with friends on my BLOG
7. share funny stories and kid quotes... on my BLOG
8. follow the example of my awesome blogger bffs
(my sisters, Joonie, Sarah, Holly, Kelly, etc...) and BLOG
9. BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG

Wow, I'm catching a pattern here. Feel free to hold me to these New Year's resolutions, friends! While certainly not life shattering for anyone, I WOULD like my children to have some kind of record of these crazy days we enjoy. Happy New Year's, friends and family. We love & miss you all!

The Little Piano Boy (who needs a haircut!)

2009-12-13T18:14:00.000-08:00

Because the month of December isn't busy enough, Carter's piano teacher decided to throw in an extra recital. If I sound Grinchy, forgive me, but Carter didn't bother to tell me about the recital until 3 DAYS BEFORE, so I had to wrangle up sitters for the little guys and cancel a few other Saturday plans, and I was a bit put out by the time we arrived to the recital.

All was forgiven when Carter stepped up to the 9-foot grand piano and played his Chopin piece. Okay, I know I'm a little biased, but... I had goosebumps. He works hard at the piano, and it was wonderful to see his hard work paying off. My dad ("Bampa") was visiting at the time, so Quinn, Taylor, my dad and I enjoyed the recital together.

And... sorry to go all "proud mama" on you, but if you're interested enough to see him playing, I posted it on YouTube under "Carter Bastian plays Fantasie Impromptu." hee hee- couldn't help myself!

Mistaken Identities: Taylorisms

2009-09-30T15:41:00.000-07:00

Taylor, age 10, is a funny girl who seems to live entirely in her own little world. She is one of those "book smart" kids who isn't always aware of the real world going on around her. This lends itself to some interesting conversations:

Taylor: (out of the blue) "Isn't it amazing that Ozzy Osbourne was in 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat'?!? He did such a great job!"
ME: (chuckling) "Uh, yeah, that would be amazing. But, honey, that wasn't Ozzy Osbourne."
Taylor: (in her 'well-duh' voice) "It was totally Ozzy Osbourne. I looked at the end credits and everything. Hellooooo! He was the star of the show! He was Joseph!"
ME: (laughing) "Ozzy Osbourne was NOT Joseph in that play! You're talking about Donny Osmond..."
Taylor: (cutting me off) "That's what I said! Ozzy Osbourne. Anyways, I had no idea that he was such a fantastic actor. And singer!"
ME: (laughing) "Ozzy's something else, all right. And some people think he's a good singer, but he was definitely NOT in 'Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat.'"
Taylor: (sigh) "Go look it up, Mom. He's Joseph! And what's even more amazing is that he can sing and act when you consider that he's blind."
ME: "He's blind?!?"
Taylor: (heavy sigh) "Don't you ever look at magazines, Mom? He's always wearing his blind glasses. In real life, anyways. He is inspirational."
ME: "I don't even know what to tell you right now."
(ironically, Donny Osmond and Ozzy Osbourne were actually on the same television program this week- "Dancing With the Stars". How surreal to have the two of them together! I nearly dragged Taylor out of bed to witness the sources of her confusion, but decided against it. And, truthfully, Ozzy's glasses do make him look visually impaired.)

Taylor: "I am doing my history report on John F. Kennedy. He was such a great president."
ME: "Oh, that would be a neat report to write. I did a lot of research on him when I was in high school. It's so sad about how he died."
Taylor: "Yeah... that darn cancer."
ME: "Ummm, sweetie, JFK was assassinated."
Taylor: "I know. By cancer. Was it lung cancer?"
ME: "Um, no, it wasn't cancer at all. He was killed."
Taylor: "By cancer. I know. I wrote all about it in my report."
ME: "Oh, dear. Really? Did you write that in your report? Have you already turned it in? Cuz he didn't die of cancer, honey. He was shot."
Taylor: (gasping) "No way! That was Lincoln!"
ME: "Yes, Lincoln, too. But John F. Kennedy was also shot and killed."
Taylor: "I think you're wrong."
ME: "No, honey, really. JFK was shot! If you researched him, you must have read that."
Taylor: (pause) "Oh... yeah, now that I think about it, I remember. He WAS shot! But it wasn't that big of a deal. It didn't kill him. He survived it. And THEN he died of cancer."
ME: (completely stumped) "Honey, please don't make me pull up the Zapruder films. Seriously, he was shot. He lost most of the top of his head, and he didn't survive it. Where exactly are you getting your research materials from?"
Taylor: "Well now you're just being sick. I don't want to think about somebody's head being shot."
(heavy pause while both of us are confused beyond belief.)
Taylor: "Well, at least he had a good acting career. Not all presidents can say that."
ME: "Honey, did you maybe do your report on Ronald Reagan?"
Taylor: "Oh, yeah! That's who it was! Ronald Reagan. He was such a great president."
(and Taylor walks away, completely unfazed, while I'm left slightly traumatized by the entire conversation.)

Last spring. Taylor was in her school production of "The Wizard of Oz", proudly playing the great Oz himself. This performance coincided with a Broadway production of "Wicked" here in Jacksonville, and we were lucky enough to get tickets through her school's drama club. Carter, who was already familiar with the play came with Taylor and I. On the drive over, he put the Wicked CD in for us all to hear. About 5 songs into it, Taylor pipes up from the backseat: "Oh my gosh! I can't believe it! This Wicked play is a total rip-off of The Wizard of Oz! Are you kidding me? They like totally copycatted the whole thing. They even use the name Glinda, like in our play. Unbelievable! Talk about a lack of creativity!"

And so you can see why so many times we are left speechless (and utterly baffled) by our Taylor girl! There's never a dull moment with her around!

Overheard: Waiting for the Locusts

2009-09-24T15:18:00.000-07:00

Now that Tanner is in kindergarten, he is very etiquette-conscious. A few weeks ago, he burped at the table and said, "Oh, part-of-me! That was very rude." We gave him a curious look, so he elaborated, "Now that I'm a big kid, I don't say 'excuse me' anymore, I say 'part of me.'"

All manners aside, it's been a week of various maladies at our home: Carter had strep throat, Tanner had pneumonia, and Quinn threw his back out while reaching for a file in his office chair. (What is he? 90?!?) Sydney has taken it upon herself to nurse the sick in our home, which sometimes gets interesting. I left her in the room for a moment and returned to find Tanner, burning up with fever, wrapped in a bedsheet, towel, and fluffy boa:

Later that day, Riley was sitting in the hallway, crying because I wouldn't let her watch SpongeBob Squarepants. Ever the maternal one, Sydney was concerned about her poor wailing sister, so she ran off and returned with a bottle of Johnson & Johnson's Baby Shampoo. "Look, Riley, this is the stuff for no more tears... that means no more sadness. Dump it on your head!"

And, after the SpongeBob debacle, I continued my reign of terror by only allowing Bailey to have one packet of Scooby Doo fruit snacks. She begged and pleaded for a second, but I held my ground, so she stomped her little feet and dramatically threw herself onto the couch. Between crying jags, she looked up at me and wailed, "You're ruining my whole darn life!"

Later that night, while tucking her in, she was back to her affectionate self. I couldn't help but ask, "So, am I still ruining your whole darn life?" She got a sheepish grin and said, "Oh... just kiddin' bout that."

Wow, the power I wield to be able to ruin entire darn lives by merely withholding fruit snacks and SpongeBob. To my poor, emotionally-damaged children, I have but one thing to say: part of me!

3 Little Ballerinas

2009-09-10T07:08:00.001-07:00

After 3 long weeks of the girls asking me EVERY day, "Is today our ballet day?", the long-awaited moment arrived. The girls had their first ballet lesson yesterday and it was quite possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen! They loved every minute of it and have been running around on their "tippy tippy toes" and doing "plee-ay-sees" ever since. And they keep asking me to do "ballet hair" for them again.

Wednesdays can't come soon enough for any of us! Special thanks to Shauna, who has the patience of a saint and is doing lessons at the church out of the goodness of her heart!

HAPPY Meal?!?

2009-08-27T13:38:00.001-07:00

Most people don't believe me when I say I can feed my entire family dinner at McDonald's for under $10. For those who doubt, here's the run-down: plain hamburger for me ($.89), fries and a side salad for Quinn ($2), a double and a McChicken for Carter ($2), ditto for Taylor ($2), and 2 double cheeseburgers for the little four ($2. The trick here is pulling the double cheeseburger apart- one burger and one bun on each side- and folding it up like a taco. The cheese helps stick it together, and... voila! Two "taco burgers!") Round this out with 8 small ice waters (free), and you have a van full of happy campers and a McDonald's store that officially hates you.

I used to to feel bad for ripping McDonald's off with my frugal (Okay, cheap) ways, but my McDonald's experience today completely absolved all guilt.

Tanner was at kindergarten (sigh) so I "only" had the triplets while running afternoon errands. It occurred to me that it would be much easier to throw lunch at them in their carseats than it would be to go home, laden with groceries, and put something together. As we pulled into the drive through, I made my first mistake: I actually looked at the Happy Meal menu instead of jumping straight to my more familiar friend, the Value Menu.

Hmm... I thought. I only have three kids with me today. It would be such a treat for them to actually have french fries and (gasp!) a soda.

And then I saw the featured girl toy: a miniature American Girl doll! It was as if I was 4 again myself- I was mesmerized by those perfect little dolls!

So I rationalized: getting an entire meal plus a drink plus an American Girl doll for $2.59 was a bargain! I excitedly ordered 3 little girl Happy Meals and was sure that this purchase would bring us a car ride of happiness.

Wrong!

Until today, my youngest children have been blissfully unaware that Happy Meals even exist. They probably don't even know that McDonald's serves french fries! They were simply thrilled to receive their meager little taco-burgers and ice waters. Boy, did I open Pandora's box!

When I handed the neatly-packaged meals to each girl, their eyes went round and large. They cautiously peered inside and their little mouths dropped. They couldn't pull everything out fast enough! Fries were flying, sodas jostling, and cheeseburgers falling to the floor. Food was entirely forgotten when they saw the toy inside. They were in sheer heaven! For like a minute. Until they opened the wrapping and saw that their "toy" was a book. A very small American Girl book with a teeny little American Girl doll sticker inside.

And then they realized that their books were all different, and that Riley got the American Girl with black hair when she has blond hair and that's not fair, but Sydney's American Girl had red hair so she didn't know who she should trade it with, and Bailey's American Girl was African American. And then they all wanted Addy, the African American girl, because her dress was yellow and she had stickers with quilts on it and she was "prettierest."

So I took their "toys" and told them they could have them after they ate their food. Five minutes of screaming later, they dug into their french fries and noticed that somebody had more fries in her bag than they did, and then there was more crying and counting of fries. So I pulled over and dumped out all the fries and redistributed them. And there was momentary food-induced peace until Bailey tasted her soda and yelled, "It's Sprite! I hate Sprite! I wanted cocoa!" (?) And then everybody wanted cocoa. And they all freaked out that they had "two breads" on their burger, and threw the top bun on the ground with disdain and made a ketchup-mustard-mess of folding their burger into taco formation.

By the time I got home, we were ALL crying and food was everywhere but in my childrens' stomachs.

All this "happiness" for a dollar more than I usually spend to feed our clan of eight! I think we were much happier before we explored this brave new world of fast-food options. Lesson learned: we'll unapologetically stick with our taco-shaped burgers and ice water, thank you very much.

Things I Never Thought I Would Say As a Mom (but, sadly, have):

2009-08-12T12:36:00.000-07:00

1. "Sorry guys, but I already told you: You can't have lollipops until you finish your PopTarts."

2. "No! We do not flush somebody else's pee pee! Everybody gets to flush their own pee. It is a family rule."
lll

3. "Carter, you HAVE to stop practicing that piano! You've been on that thing for like 3 hours... go outside and play already!"

4. "Taylor, I love it when you get creative, but for the rest of the day, you may not make anything that involves paper or scissors or glue or yarn or stickers or paint or crayons or markers. They are now off-limits."

5. "Hey, guys! No using the remote control as a weapon! And same goes for the telephone. We do NOT hit each other with technology!"
llll

6. (at the dinner table) "Okay, we've had our fun but it's time to stop talking like pirates, okay? No more 'aaaaarghing' and calling each other 'mateys' and 'wenches', okay? No more pirate talk!"

7. (while playing pretend) "No, it's okay, guys. You can ALL be Quasimoto. Anybody who wants to can pretend they're Quasimoto. Nobody HAS to be Esmerelda."

Okay, so in my defense: A) They were eating whole-grain poptarts for a quick breakfast-on- the-go when the bank lady announced that she was sending through some lollipops for the kids. B) Never thought I'd have a family rule about flushing somebody else's pee, let alone make ridiculous comments to enforce the rule, but I potty-trained all four at the same time and they were very territorial about flushing. C) Carter plays the piano nonstop and, until we moved the piano from the family room to the office, it was very loud. D) I'm not one to stifle creativity, but Taylor's incessant projects can get very messy. You can only pick tiny yarn snips and pieces of tape out of the carpet so many times in one day... E) When the triplets were 2, it was like WWF at our house. Following one split lip too many, we actually had a list of "contraban" items. F) After watching Pirates of the Carribean with the big kids and having a pirate birthday party for Tanner, the pirate talk had been going on for hours and was driving this particular wench crazy. Aaaargh! G) For some reason, my little kids were obsessed with Hunchback of NotreDame, and Riley was in love with Quasimoto. Which meant that they ALL wanted to be him, and they walked around with their backs hunched and their faces squinched up, and tried to make somebody else be Esmerelda. Go figure!

But still...

Bailey

2009-07-20T07:43:00.001-07:00

It looks like Bailey has made it her mission in life to slowly unravel what little is left of my sanity. She is a mischevious little imp, full of sheer will and determination. I am no match for her, really.

kkkkkkk

We wonder if she has a Napoleon Complex. She has always three or four inches shorter than her triplet sisters. One night she asked me, "When am I going to get biggest, since I'm the big sister?" Ironically, she has convinced everybody that she is indeed the oldest sister, despite her lack of stature. (And despite the fact that she was actually Baby C- the last one out!) What she lacks in height, she makes up for in attitude. Or as one of Quinn's coworkers put it, she has a "high will-to-mass ratio."

She is a force of nature, and I wonder sometimes what makes this little one tick. She is like a cat: independent, affectionate only when she wants to be, and completely unpredictable. We never know what's going to make her pounce!

llll

Bailey refuses to wear anything but dresses. She accessorizes to the hilt with any headband/necklace/hair scrunchie she can find. She drags her mini tea seat with her everywhere she goes, and she is convinced that she is a princess. Her favorite game to play is "pretend" where I am the mean stepmother and she gazes longingly at a photo of Quinn and I (her "real parents who are very dead.") She could play that game for HOURS, and has even worked up a tear or two as she wishes that her "real mom and dad" hadn't been "zapped by Ursula the Sea Witch."

This morning I left my glass of water on the coffee table. As I walked back in the room, I was directly behind Bailey and, not seeing me, I watched her lean over my glass of water and peer inside. I was about to intervene (I hate it when my kids drink out of my glass), but instead watched in amazement as Bailey deliberately spit in my glass. A lot of spit. Then she peered inside, grinning. As she walked away she spotted me and smiled. "Bailey!" I said, incredulously. "Did you just spit in my water?!?" "No," she said, sweet as can be. "But I just saw you do it!" She shrugged. "I didn't SPIT in it," she explained. "I was giving you floaties. I always give you floaties."

lllll

To think how many, many times I have left a glass of water within her reach . . .

lllll

Lucky for her, she's pretty darn cute. A friend from church insists he could never discipline her because she's so adorable. I told him that it's her primary survival mechanism. She can turn on the charm when she needs. She loves to say in her prayers: "Thank you that Mommy is beautiful" and then she cracks open one eye to peer at me and make sure that this had the desired effect of making me smile. It always does.

lllll

She was helping put a bandaid on Riley the other day and I said, "Wow, you're good at this, Bailey. Maybe someday you'll grow up and be a doctor!" "No," she said. "I want to grow up to be a Mommy, just like you." My heart started to melt, then she continued, "Cuz then I can wear your lipstick and you'll have to let me wear all your Mommy clothes and I'll have a real purse and a cella phone."

lllll

And to balance out any compliments she doles out in her prayers, she always manages to get in a few digs to my self-esteem. Last week when I came home from jogging, she ran up and gave me a big hug. "I love you, Mommy... even when you're all sweaty and ugly."

lllll

Beneath all her bluster and bravado, however, our mini-dictator isn't as tough as she thinks. She still sucks her thumb (though she hides it under her blankie). She is still the only one afraid to swim without floaties (the inflatable arm things, not the spit). She is scared of Sid "the mean kid" from Toy Story and refuses to open her eyes if he's on screen. She's terrified of thunder.

llll

Somewhere beneath the mischief and bossiness lies a tender little heart... if only she'd let us catch a glimpse of it more often!

SuperTanner graduates!

2009-07-16T08:15:00.000-07:00

It is, apparently, exhausting to be a Super Hero. All that lizard rescuing, sister tormenting, and incessant question-asking wiped out poor little SuperTanner to the point that he couldn't even climb up the stairs to his bed before falling asleep.

I can relate. The month of May seemed bent on showing me that I am in no way Super Woman. The month of May, in fact, left me Super Exhausted. It seemed that at least once or twice every week there was some big event to attend for Carter and Taylor- concerts, performances, recitals, plays, award ceremonies. We were going nonstop trying to get the big kids everywhere they needed to be and it was a full-on effort to keep the camcorders and cameras charged up to record these occasions! (photos and video to be posted soon.)

The last big event of the month, however, was all about our SuperTanner. His Pre-Kindergarten graduation was a BIG deal, held at the local elementary school auditorium (which was packed with hundreds of camcord-clutching relatives.) Decked out in caps and gowns, (seriously) it was just too stinking cute for words.

Not everyone shared the sentiments of this momentous occasion. At one point, Carter turned to me and said, "Really? REALLY?!? He learned how to write his name and count to a hundred. This is a bit over the top..." (Sour grapes since he never had a preschool graduation ceremony?) Quinn also grumbled a bit, something about yuppy parents with nothing better to do. But that was before he saw Tanner in his graduation gear and came to appreciate the glory of that wonderful photo op.

And, in case we didn't get good shots, there was a professional videographer and photographer on scene. Seriously.

We were all proud of Tanner, who dazzled us with a smile and wave after accepting his diploma. He loved going to Goddard School, and he loved his teachers, Miss Mandy and Miss Shirley. And, I might add, he can pretty much read now. That's worthy of a ceremony in my book!

Congratulations, Tanner! We think you're Super! (now let's all go take a nap.)

Christmas in July-revisited

2009-07-12T12:22:00.000-07:00

I didn't send out Christmas cards this year. Sigh. The shame still haunts me- six months later!

It wasn't for lack of trying. We had two "photo shoots" in attempt to get a photo of all eight of us worthy of printing on a card. All the photos were TERRIBLE... until we finally found a fantastic photographer who also happens to be a pal of mine. (Why didn't I think of her sooner?!?) But, every time the scheduled day arrived, it either rained or somebody was sick.

We finally had a great shoot- like 5 days before Christmas. Not in time to send out cards, but at least I kept our yearly Christmas photo tradition alive (much to the chagrin of my husband and children.)

Since my mind is oddly turned to Christmas right now, I thought I'd catch up and post some of these Christmas photos.

As for next year, I was already planning on having Erin take our pictures in September or October- just to be safe. Unfortunately... she moved to Wisconsin. Ugh!

Anything for a free meal?!?

2009-07-10T14:50:00.000-07:00

As I'm sure you all know, today is Cow Appreciation Day. Shockingly, it is not a federal holiday. However, if you dress up in bovine-apparel, you get a free meal at Chick-fil-A. We love Chick-fil-A, and we love free meals even more (especially if it eliminates the need to cook), so I turned my herd of kids into a herd of cows in order to save a buck.

(Bear in mind that this was done on the spur of the moment with 15 minutes, a box of old Halloween costumes, construction paper and tape. Go easy on the costume critiques!)

Was it worth it? Oh, yeah. Free food, an enclosed play place, and the opportunity for the kids to run off some of their rainy-day-pent-up-energy...

If only every day was Cow Appreciation Day.

As a sidenote: take a moment to notice my children's shoes. I have polled other triplet moms and have come to the conclusion that shoes are the bane of our existence! Inevitably, at least two of the children have on the exact same shoe... on both feet. (as with Bailey- two left feet of the same shoe.) And then of course there are the almost-the-same-shoe-but-not-quite occasions (such as with Riley) where the girls put on the same style of shoe but in two different colors. Unfortunately for Riley, hers are also both left feet. I could fight it, but I've given up... I actually take them out in public like this! Hopefully the cow thing will be a distraction.

Christmas in July

2009-07-01T15:28:00.000-07:00

So I'm staring down the barrel of a potentially LONG summer full of bored and whiny children. This always makes me edgy- until I pull out the calendar and make all kinds of pie-in-the-sky plans, half of which we won't get to. But it empowers me nonetheless.

Exhibit A: Christmas in July. We spent a long and fun-filled afternoon dressed up in our Christmas jammies, making a gingerbread house. Eccentric, yes, but it kept them busy. This little project was like a Rorschach for our kids' personalities: Taylor and Sydney doggedly stayed on the task (and got irritated with everyone else who didn't) while Bailey flitted in and out for the fun parts. Tanner started the project with a bang but got bored after about 10 minutes and wandered off to find something he could hit with a hammer. Riley sat on the table, watching the entire thing while sneaking pieces of candy and initiating a never-ending commentary. And Carter took one look and retreated to the office, where he practiced piano for 3 hours.

These are the days of our lives...

For any of you wondering, I didn't get out any Christmas cards this year (oh, the shame!), but you may just find one in your mailbox some time this summer!

Overheard: Gender Inequality

2009-04-15T07:55:00.000-07:00

This is the discussion I just overheard while the kids were watching "Elmo's World":

Bailey: "I don't get it... is Elmo a boy or a girl?"

Sydney: "Well his voice is like a girl, I think."

Riley: "Yeah, and he has eyelashes, so I think he IS a girl."

Tanner: "No, guys, everybody has eyelashes. See, I'm a boy and I even have eyelashes."

(they all stand within inches of Tanner's face and examine his eyelashes.)

Bailey: "You're right! You do!"

Tanner: "Yep. It's how I give butterfly kisses."

Sydney: "So Elmo has eyelashes and is a boy!"

Bailey: "I know! I know! Elmo is a boy and Zoe is a girl."

Tanner: "Yes, you are exactly right."

Me: "I think that's true, guys. Elmo is a boy and Zoe is a girl."

Sydney: "But Ernie is a boy. And Bert is a boy."

Riley: "And Cookie Monster is a boy. And Telly is a boy, I think."

Bailey: "And Grover is a boy. Is Big Bird a boy?"

Tanner: "Yes, he is a little boy."

Riley: "Aren't there any girls on Sesame Street?"

Me: "Well, there's Zoey, and, uh.... uh... Rosita!"

Sydney: "We don't like Rosita."

Bailey: "Yeah, we don't like Rosita."

Tanner: "So look at that... everybody great is boys! Boys rock!"

Leader of the Pack

2009-03-05T07:58:00.000-08:00

As previously mentioned, we have a new addition to our family: little Ellie Belly who is no bigger than a minute. Getting a pet for the first time was interesting for us... in many ways, it might have been easier to have another newborn since we were already schooled in babies. With puppies, we were clueless!

Coincidentally, I caught an episode of "Jon and Kate Plus 8" last week and they just got 2 puppies. Yes, TWO! (Those Gosselins have to one-up us on everything!) :) The episode was hilarious because Kate expressed sentiments similar to ours- maybe babies are easier than puppies?!?

I have no room to complain. We've had Ellie for over a month and I think we've had 4 "accidents"- all on tile flooring, and all our fault for not taking her out often enough. Lesson learned! She doesn't whimper at night, she doesn't bark, she doesn't scratch at the door or chew things up. She is a piece of cake. (Which means that if we ever get another dog, we are gonna get hammered!)

The hard part, really, was just figuring out what the heck to do with a puppy. Upon the recommendation of a savvy friend, we got Cesar Milan's book, "Member of the Family". Fabulous book. (Thank you, Kelly!) I had trouble tearing it away from Quinn, who loved to pepper me with all kinds of dog trivia while reading it. He got very into it, and determined that we had to work hard to establish good habits with the puppy. He began taking her on regular leashed walks which was hilarious because it looked like he was essentially trying to walk a gerbil.

Quinn also decided that we needed to let the puppy know right from the get-go that we are the "leaders of the pack." As Quinn explained this philosophy to me, we started drawing parallels to parenting and realized that some of the suggestions just might work on our kids! (I mean, the dog was already a gem, but our kids could always use a little work!) As we read on, we realized

that sometimes the kids are totally leading our pack! (when you are this outnumbered, I suppose it's somewhat inevitable.) But now we were equipped to change it!

One day we were getting in the car and Bailey started having a melt down. She refused to get buckled into her carseat. Very calmly, Quinn leaned down, looked her right in the face and said, "Bailey, I am the leader of the pack. You are not the leader of the pack. You will do what I say. Now get in your seat." Shockingly, she immediately calmed down, got in her seat and buckled up. She even smiled.

Weird. We tried it again throughout the week. It always worked. It's gotten to the point that all we have to do is ask, "Who is the leader of the pack?" and the kids automatically respond, "Mommy! Daddy! We are part of the team, but you're the boss!" Brainwashing at it's best, but if it works, I'll take it!

We should have gotten a dog earlier so we could have accessed these amazing parenting secrets! Luckily, it's never too late to teach an old dog (or kid) new tricks.

Note to Self: Lessons I Learned this Week

2009-02-20T20:35:00.000-08:00

1. No matter how hard you try to keep a sick kid separate from the healthy ones, they’re all going to get it anyways. Be proactive and get it over with: stick them all in a small room together and load up on the Motrin.

2. The flu shots we all got in October apparently did not apply to the four different strains of flu that we have managed to catch, mutate, and share over the past three weeks.

3. There's nothing that sky-rockets my blood pressure more than taking the temperature of one of my kids and watching it shoot up to over 104 degrees. Except maybe when it happens the next day to a different kid and it hits 105!

4. My pediatrician's office doesn't do any "4-for-the-price-of-1" co-pay discounts.

5. A trip to the zoo doesn’t “count” if you don’t get to see the elephants. You will be reminded every day that you have to go back. Your children will actually feel cheated that they "smelled elephant poop" but didn't get to see the giants themselves.

6. The best way to make telemarketers stop calling is to put Sydney on the line, who will not only talk the poor salesperson to death, but will also start to sing her "gospel" songs that she's made up. (Unbeknownst to me, she answered the phone while I was cleaning up vomit and she had a grand conversation where she learned that "Miss Jennifer has 2 cats named Snickers and Cookie and she's allergic to peanut butter and she doesn't have any kids to play with and no husband or daddy either." We haven't heard from Jennifer again.)

7. It is actually possible (but not recommended) to bathe your new puppy more than you bathe your children.
8. If you leave a marker within arm’s reach while your 3 year-old is holding the puppy, you will soon have a blue puppy. (Despite Bailey's protests that she was just trying to “make a picture of the puppy’s handprints.”)
9. If you get nauseous to the point of nearly throwing up when your 13 year old is sitting on stage for a piano competition, then you probably won’t make a very good “stage mother.” Encourage him to pursue other interests that won’t require you to get a prescription for Xanax.

(In other words: we went to the zoo on Monday, everybody was running fevers or had been diagnosed with strep throat later in the week, and Carter had his big piano competition on Friday. Busy, exhausting week! But congrats to Carter who earned a "Superior" rating in both his solo performance and his concerto. Now, if only he'd quit while he is ahead so I don't have to sit in nervous agony before his performances ever again!)

Puppy Love

2009-02-09T10:33:00.000-08:00

So we got a dog. This is a big move for us- we've never even had a pet! We "puppy sat" for some friends over Christmas and fell in love with their dog, and the seed was planted: maybe this was something we could actually do. A week later we found a gorgeous little puppy that was finally ready to come home to us this past week. She was born on Christmas Eve so the kids named her Noel, but we call her Ellie, and this is one loved little puppy! In fact, the hard part so far has been setting the timer every fifteen minutes so that everyone can take turns holding her! I know I'm a sucker, but take a look at her picture... how could I resist?!?

It just so happened that Tanner's "letter of the week" was "P". On Friday he had to bring in a "P" word item for show-and-tell. Well, it took him about half a second to recognize that puppy is a "P" word. And so Ellie had her preschool debut!

Overheard: Santa Stuff

2009-01-08T06:38:00.000-08:00

Tanner: "That's it, Sydney! I'm sayin a prayer to Jesus to tell Santa not to bring you any presents!"

Bailey: "Wouldn't it be fun to go visit Santa? I know: we could bring our swimming suits and go swimming with him!!!"

Mom: "Uh... it's freezing cold at the North Pole. I don't think we'd want to swim there."

Bailey: "But yes we would. Santa has a HUGE swimming pool there at the North Pool. Dats why it's called the North Pool. We can totally go swimming there!"

Tanner: "I just love the racecar set Santa broughted to me! But I wish I had another racecar, too... Oh, wait! I need to be thankful, don't I? We need to be thankful for what we get from Santa, and we need to be thankful for what we get from Jesus, and we need to be thankful for what we get from garage sales... and Walmart, too." (???)

Bailey has never been a big fan of Santa. As a toddler, she'd shriek "No Santa! No Santa!" whenever the topic came up. Last year, she would shudder and shake if we approached him at the mall or at a Christmas party, and she spoke of him with fear for months to follow: "No more Santa, right? Santa is all gone, right?" But she steeled herself this year to be brave so that she could at least tell Santa what she wanted. I would overhear her giving herself pep talks. (eg- "Santa isn't scary and I won't cry when I see him cuz I will be very, very brave.") When we saw him at our ward Christmas party, she timidly walked up to him, shaking, and allowed herself to be next to him.... so long as Quinn was holding her. Progress! She told him what she wanted, and then she turned to me and yelled, "Hey! Santa's not so bad after all!!!" (I don't know... she still looks pretty leary to me.)

Carter was happy to hang out with Santa's cute elves...

And Taylor told Santa she wanted a driver's license... (SO SO scary!)

Tanner-Knievel: Our Little Daredevil

2008-12-09T17:12:00.000-08:00

Let me preface by saying that I would almost rather have one of my children end up in prison than grow up to be a stuntman. Seriously. I wonder how Jackie Chan's mother gets through the day.

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So imagine my surprise (and terror) as I discover that Tanner is a fearless little daredevil. I have done nothing to nurture these tendencies but find that they are growing despite my attempts to squelch them.

I've already posted a picture of Tanner sitting at the very tippy-top of our outdoor playset. He's been doing that particular stunt for MONTHS now, and it no longer stops my heart a few beats to find him on his favorite perch. He has recently graduated to new tricks: A few weeks ago, upon parking in the driveway after preschool pick-up, I told Tanner he could go ahead and get out of the minivan and head into the house while I talked to Carter through the driver's side window. I was suddenly startled to hear noises above my head: SOMETHING was on TOP of the van! Carter, wide-eyed with fear and admiration, cried out, "Oh my gosh! Tanner is on the van! How the heck did he get up there?!?" Sure enough, Tan was standing on the minivan rooftop, arms raised in triumph, shouting, "I am SO COOL!!!" And then, as I scrambled to react without panic. . . of course, he jumped.

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The following week, I heard thumping noises upstairs and asked Carter to check on the kids. "If they're jumping on Tanner's bed again, tell them they're in big trouble!" I instructed. He came back with a stupefied grin, "Well, they're not jumping on the bed, but I think you'd better come see this for yourself!" I walked into Tanner's room to find him standing on top of his narrow 4' high dresser, waiting for me. Before I had time to freak out, he launched into a full-on aerial front flip onto the middle of his bed! Then without missing a beat, stood up, took the first of several bows, and said, "Thank you! Thank you very much!"

Since then, I have found him shimmying up the column in front of our house (trying to get to the roof), walking on TOP of the monkey bars, and teaching the triplets how to do dive rolls off the living room couch. He is forever flipping and rolling and jumping and twirling, and he is confident that all these stunts make him very, very cool.

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It doesn't help that he's found a true fan in his big brother; Carter probably wishes he could get away with half of Tanner's tricks. "He is the coolest four-year-old ever!" I heard Carter say. He finds Tan's stunts amazing and captivating. I find them horrifying beyond measure, but what's a mother to do? I've considered covering him in bubble-wrap and making him wear a helmet, but I suspect that this would only give him (and me) a false sense of security. So instead I keep hoping that this is a phase he'll outgrow. Soon.

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p.s.- Tanner has blue hair because of "Crazy Hair Day" at preschool. The interior ceiling of my van still has fluorescent blue marks everywhere-testament to his Tigger-like bounciness. And you may note an injury by his mouth in some of the photos. Occupational hazard of being a daredevil, perhaps? Actually, this particular injury came from ticking off one of his sisters: occupational hazard of being Bailey's brother.

Halloween Pics

2008-12-07T07:04:00.001-08:00

Finally... I am posting our Halloween costume pictures. It was a blast-- the kids were SO into it this year! (Even Carter, who took great pains to dress up as the Joker. Take note: I did his Joker makeup while driving to the church party, at night, in the dark. Pretty proud of myself. Perhaps I missed my true calling in life as a makeup artist?!?)

You would think that the costumes require no explanation, but as is our way, there's a story behind each of them. As follows:

Carter- the Joker ("but not the cheesy joker from the other Batmans. The Dark Knight Joker.") He refused to consider the pre-fab Joker costumes found at every costume shop in the city ("too lame") and also refused my creative ideas born of desperation (such as Rit-dying a lab coat purple). Instead, he waited til the last possible second, assuming that I had taken care of it and then wondered why I hadn't gotten him a costume. Hmm... so we improvised with a Dark Knight Joker t-shirt and sloppy makeup.

Taylor- "Mrs. Edward Cullen" (ie- vampire bride, based upon the Twilight book series. A series she has never read, but has heard Quinn, Carter and I talk about at great length.) I bought a fancy makeup kit and Taylor insisted on doing it herself, despite my evident skills. She also wore a nametag that said, "Hello, I'm ... Mrs. Cullen." (It's all in the details, even if nobody else knows what you're talking about, right?)

Tanner- Knight in "Shiny" Armour (who refused to wear his shiny armour for more than 5 seconds, despite major attempts at candy bribery.) At the last moment, he also found last year's costume and decided to be "Mr. Incredible" with very bad teeth. Oooookay....

Sydney, Riley & Bailey- There was never any question that the girls wanted to be Disney princesses, so I was thrilled to find 3 princess costumes at a reasonable price in September. I brought home the Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty costumes, set them out on the couch and hoped the girls would naturally gravitate to the appropriate costume without a fist fight. Bailey staked out Cinderella before the other two could protest, so Sydney grabbed Snow White ("She has bwackish hair just wike me!") which left Sleeping Beauty for Ri. Problem: none of the girls have seen Sleeping Beauty so none of them were interested in being her. "What princess is this?" Riley wanted to know. Thinking quick on my feet, I lied: "Ariel." "But Ariel has flippers!" Riley started to cry. "No, no... this is the dress Ariel wears after she has legs," I insisted, keeping the lie alive. New Problem: Now they ALL wanted the Sleeping Beauty dress because they all wanted to be Ariel With Legs. So there was a scuffle after all. Confouded by the fact that, after one party, the girls found a Belle costume (worn by Taylor when she was 4), and Dictator Bailey determined that Sydney had to be Belle since she looks like Belle, and then Bailey appropriated the Snow White costume. Just like a true tyrant. So, in the end, between all the parties we attended and the trick-or-treating, each girl was at least 2 different princesses. Except Riley, who wasn't about to give up the Ariel With Legs costume.

Keeping with tradition, the Rosses and Williamsons came over and we had dinner and then took the kids trick-or-treating together. Carter and Daniel went together, Kassidy and Taylor went together, and our friends each grabbed a little one, which left Quinn and I trailing along to watch the fun. The little guys dragged whoever was holding their hand from house to house, and we had to laugh at their tirelessness in pursuit of candy. Tanner insisted on saying "Happy Halloween!" to everyone he saw, and Riley shyly told everyone "Stank you" when they gave her candy. We had a great time! Call me ghoulish, but Halloween is my favorite! :)

Pumpkin Painting

2008-11-06T19:06:00.000-08:00

I know, I know... still haven't posted the Halloween costume pictures yet! Have I mentioned how technologically-challenged I am? (this means that they are still on the camera and I rely on my savvy husband to magically get the pics from my camera onto my computer so that I can put them to good use.) I know, I know... LAME!

Anyhow, until then, I thought I'd add some shots of our pre-Halloween-Pumpkin-Painting fest. The big kids opted out in lieu of carving their pumpkins to look like The Joker (pictures on camera still), but the thought of arming my little guys with pumpkin carving tools struck more fear into my heart than any haunted house ever could. So I armed them with paint pens, which was almost as frightening.

All in all, this painting project was like a mini-Rorschach of their personalities. Bailey lasted about 3 minutes because a) the project required her to remove her princess dress, and b) the paint was "very very messky."

Sydney was completely absorbed in the task and later went on to pick flowers and bugs that she could "paint-glue" to her pumpkin (yuck!), while Tanner rather enjoyed chewing on the paint pens and watching how far the paint could squirt.

Riley was in a world all her own, and made up a pretty little song about pumpkins which she sang the entire time as she meticulously covered every inch of her pumpkin... for nearly 2 hours!(this compared to Bailey's measly three minutes.)

A good time was had by all... until I had to clean it up. Ah, well- memories.

"Pumpkin Patching"

2008-11-03T07:40:00.001-08:00

Yikes! I have lots of catching up to do! I'll start off easy by posting photos from our annual Pumpkin Patch trip last week. All of the kids were so excited to go (except perhaps for Carter, who insisted on wearing his Ipod the whole time to make it "bearable.")

For days, it was all the little kids talked about. Riley kept saying, "When are we going to go Pumpkin Patching? I've been waiting forever!" Unfortunately, we were late in the game this year, so the pickings were rather slim... No matter, we drove a mile down the road and got most of our pumpkins for $3 at WalMart, thus making everyone happy. Even Carter!

These are a Few of My Unfavorite Things...

2008-09-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

So you already know how much I dislike goody bags. And balloons. And Sharpies. And anything of that nature that either a) destroys my house, or b) destroys the peace and goodwill amongst my little ones. This past week (and actually all in one very mischevious day) we added a few more culprits to the list:

1. packing peanuts

2. baby powder

3. shampoo

Funny thing is, all of the above happened in about 2 hours, with Tanner as the prime instigator. Here's my guess at the dialogue--

Tanner (while I'm doing dishes): Hey guys! Mommy got a big box in the mail and it's full of little white fluffy things. Lets smash them all up and make snow . . .

Tanner (a half hour later, while I'm shop-vac'ing up a blizzard of crushed packing peanuts): Hey guys! I know another way to make snow! Mommy got some new baby powder at Target, and I figured out how to take the lid off . . .

Tanner (another half hour later, while I'm distracted on the phone talking to Uncle Dan the ER Doc about the possible dangers of baby powder inhalation and wondering how to fix the shop-vac for another round of action): Hey guys! Since Mommy won't let us make snow and made us get in the tub, let's be Santa Claus! Turn the water back on, 'cause I got Mommy's new bottle of shampoo and I figured out how to take the lid off . . .

Several days and several cleanings later, we still have shampoo sludge in the tub, baby powder mist in the guest room, and tiny pieces of packing peanuts that stubbornly refuse to be picked up or vacuumed. Good times!

I can only imagine what else will be contraband in our household by the time the triplets make it to kindergarten!

Overheard: "You're Very Sneaky, Lauren!"

2008-09-13T13:35:00.000-07:00

Driving home from Sam's Club and all hopped up on 32oz Big Gulp sodas, the car was full of six noisy kids and two weary parents. Somehow over the noise, we heard Riley's fluttery little voice: "Hey you guys, you need to be quiet! I can't even hear myself drink!"

I made the mistake of buying a package of chocolate chip cookies and leaving it visible on the counter. It got awfully quiet while I was putting laundry away upstairs, so I crept down and peered into the kitchen where they were all huddled around the box of cookies, fists full. I stood there and just stared at them in their joyful feast until Sydney spotted me. She jumped a foot and then became indignant: "Hey! You sneaked on me! That was a bad choice!"

Along the same lines, Bailey got into a package of chocolate chips on the counter. When spotted, I took them away and put them in a cupboard while she was watching. I then saw the wheels turning in her head as she looked around for a chair and then looked back up to the cupboard with the chocolate in it. Then, ever-so-sweetly, she said, "Mommy, could you please go away now, please?" Like I was born yesterday.

I went to pick up Tanner from his third day at preschool and, with a line of parents behind me and a smiling teacher in front of me, Tanner announced: "Tomorrow is going to be a very special day, Mommy! It's Hoe and Tell!"

"It's, uh, what?" I sputtered.
"Hoe and Tell! And you can come!" he hollered. Hmmm...

I was making dinner when Bailey hollered, "Mom! Come quick! There's a amergency!"

I dropped what I was doing and followed her voice to the bathroom, where she was staring at herself in the mirror.

"What's wrong?" I asked breathlessly.

"Look! There's no flowers on my dress! Hurry- go get some paint!"

Recent excerpts from prayers:

Sydney- "Thank you that we can hop from one foot to another..."

Tanner- "Thank you for the hearts under our skin. And our tentacles." (?)

Riley- "Thank you that I did not get puked on by Sydney or peed on by Bailey cuz then I would be all ruined." (following an outing to Sam's Club that involved both disasters.)

10K a Day... And Then Some!

2008-09-12T10:54:00.000-07:00

I went for my yearly physical last week, and was pleased to be given a clean bill of health. "Your numbers look great, your bloodwork is good... so I'll tell you what I tell everybody in your age group," my doctor concluded. "Don't smoke." (I rolled my eyes. Duh.) "Always wear a seatbelt." (Again- Duh.) "And keep on exercising."

He must have seen the look pass over my face because he said, "You DO exercise, don't you?"

"Uh, well, um... not so much," I hung my head with shame. "Unless you count chasing after six kids every day as exercise?"

I was hopeful for a moment until he smiled and said, "Nope. You need to be doing at least 30 minutes of cardio at least 3 times a week, and at least 20 minutes of strength-training at least twice a week if you want to stay as healthy as you are."

Oh. Because I actually wouldn't mind getting a lot healthier than I currently am. But I at least want to maintain what little fitness I've got!

"Did I mention that I have a lot of kids?" I persisted. "I mean, seriously, I'm not making excuses here, but I honestly have no idea how to fit all that into my schedule."

"Where there's a will, there's a way," he said, closing my chart. "Make it a priority. Schedule it into your week. Make it happen."

Spoken like a man. A man who doesn't have to drink his breakfast while dropping carpool kids off to school and rushing back to get the next kid onto a bus. Spoken like a man who has an entire hour off for lunch in which he can either chow down at the nearby Chili's or go for a jog and still fit a shower in afterwards. Spoken like a man who can probably eke out more than 5 minutes a day to himself without somebody else having a major melt-down.

Sorry, did that sound bitter? It's just that my days are so crazy-busy that I can only dream of having an extra 30 minutes in a day where I might actually have enough energy to do more than drop onto the couch and promptly fall asleep!

But the fitness thing is a priority to me. (I mean, I drink a protein/beet/spinach/wheat germ concoction every morning for breakfast. I am really trying here!) So I was working up a plan for this dilemma when I saw an article in the newspaper (as I was cleaning off the coffee table) called, "10K a Day". It was all about how research has proven that the average American only walks 3000 - 5000 steps a day, yet people in top physical form walk at least 10,000 steps a day. The article suggested that you can vastly improve and maintain your fitness level if you can work up to 10,000 steps a day.

And a ray of hope shined through my fitness doom. This might actually be something I can do! I bought a pedometer, calibrated it to my stride length, and prepared to add a lot of extra pacing to my usual routine. I made up a little chart in my head for how to gradually increase myself to the 10,000 steps a day. I was set.

I clipped the pedometer on the next morning and forgot about it until around 9 am. It said I had already walked 3000 steps. Worried that it was malfunctioning, I tested it a few times and was surprised that my pedometer was working correctly. And then I forgot about it again until noon, when upon checking, I was stunned to see that I'd clocked 6000 steps. So I tested it again. It was still working.

By 10pm (and my day not near over yet), I was near 13,000 steps, which is over 6 miles. I mused over the fact that it had been just an ordinary day. I hadn't even added in any extra pacing yet! Weird.

The second day was much like the first: I ended up at nearly 13,000 steps.

The third day was a bit of a let-down: I was tired and not feeling well, and spent a lot more time sitting down than usual. But I still was at nearly 11,000 steps.

I haven't worn the pedometer since. It served its purpose by proving to me that I do, in fact, exercise EVERY DAY. I just didn't know it! And, yes, I realize that 30 minutes straight of cardio would be optimal. And I also realize that I need to someday work in some strength training (bearing in mind of course that I regularly lift 30 - 40 pounds of kids up and down off countertops, couches, carseats and beds on a nonstop basis... does that qualify?) But I'm still happy to know that I'm not atrophying away while I'm too busy to officially be working out.

So the proof was in the pedometer. And, in answer to your question, Doc, apparently chasing after six kids all day does, in fact, count for something!

"Hey! We're not ladies... we're triplets!"

2008-08-11T06:22:00.000-07:00

So we survived the girls' first trip to the dentist, and although I'd dreaded it for weeks, we came out virtually unscathed. No PRE-appointment waiting room histrionics, no dental chair melt-downs, and perhaps most importantly... NO CAVITIES! Which, when you consider that the older three had cavity-free visits last month, this adds up to six cavity-free mouths and one very happy mom. (I suppose it's another "you know you have a lot of kids when..." that we weren't able to schedule all my kids' dental visits in one trip.)

I'm sure we were helped by the fact that we go to a pediatric dentist who is as fabulous as he is patient, and that the office is well-equipped for little ones. But I love this office most for their ingenious policy of taking the child back to the exam room for cleaning and x-rays and exams WITHOUT the presence of their parent. Even when they're just three years old. Seriously. A nice hygienist calls out your child's name, and gently whisks him/her away by the hand, assuring that they'll come get you if they encounter any problems but that kids do best without the moms right there. (Code for: moms hover and it makes the kids nervous and we want you to just back off!) The Mama Bear in me was nervous about this policy at first (do they do this for everyone, or just me? How did they know that I'm a hover-er?), but it went so smoothly for Tanner's first appointment last year (and again last month), that I came to see the wisdom of this policy. And I won't lie: that kid-free hour was the most peaceful I'd had in weeks.

So I was experienced with office policy and was bracing myself for the girls to melt down when somebody came to get them, but, shockingly, they allowed themselves to be led away. This alone was a miracle because, frankly, it could have gone either way. You see, it's a gang mentality thing: if one triplet decides that it's okay and that she's willing to go along (usually Sydney), then the others follow suit. But if one triplet (usually Riley) decides that she's not okay with what's about to happen and freaks out, then they ALL start to freak out and there's no hope for turning the situation around. It's an all-or-nothing endeavor.

Fortunately, it went our way. The girls were taken deep into the bowels of the dental office (which must be sound-proof because I could hear nothing) and I sat there, agape, and a little unsure of what to do with myself. No kids? Really? Tanner was at a friend's and the big two were at piano and I was... utterly alone. Lucky for me (?) I had a mountain of "patient's first appointment" paperwork to fill out (in triplicate), so I took my sweet time. One of the questions amused me: "In one sentence or three adjectives, describe your child's personality." Piece of cake. Sydney: adventurous, thoughtful, caring. Riley: introverted, sweet, sensitive. Bailey: feisty, temperamental, charming.

I was musing over this when one of the receptionists came into the waiting room. "Are you the mother of the triplets?" Gulp. "That depends," I joked. "Is somebody throwing a tantrum?" "No, no," she gushed. "They are just adorable. We are getting such a kick out of them! In fact, the doctor wanted me to come tell you what just happened!" Gulp again.

Apparently the girls were set up together like an assembly line on three side-by-side dental chairs in their matching little outfits and hairbows and shoes (a ploy to make them seem as sweet as they look), when the good dentist walked by and said, "Hello, ladies!" He was answered by an indignant Bailey who replied with hand on hip, "Hey! We're not ladies! We're triplets!"

Truer words were never spoken.

And the funny thing was that if I'd finished filling out my paperwork in time, they wouldn't have had to describe which triplet it was (shortest, round face, blondish hair) in order to know that Bailey was the culprit. Because it was written right there on the paperwork: Feisty. Temperamental. (Don't you dare call her a lady!) But charming. She had the entire office in stitches.

And, just when I thought we could make our escape without a single incident... they gave the girls balloons and goody bags. UGH! (I've posted this before, but I'll repeat myself again: goody bags are the bane of my existence! Followed closely by balloons. I appreciate the thought, but, UGH! The kids fight over whose bag is whose before I can write names on them and somebody inevitably has something that is different and therefore better than the other people have, and somebody has the wrong color of toothbrush when their favorite color is in fact green, and somebody is missing their tin of dental floss, and somebody spills their ACT fluoride rinse mini all over the carpet of the waiting room, and... you get the picture.) I'm pretty sure that goody bags were invented for only children.

Things fell rapidly apart from there. In the three minutes it took from receipt of goody bags and balloons to the office exit, I was pretty sure that our "adorable" facade was blown to bits. Such howling had never been heard there before. Even in the dental chair. I left the office with one girl on each hip, one by the wrist (getting knocked in the face by the diaper bag), and all four of us hopelessly tangled up in balloon strings. Again, Ugh! Balloons.

But we made it, and with the exception of those last few minutes, the experience was relaxing and pleasant. (How often can you say that about a dental visit?) Yet one thing is for certain: our entire pediatric dental office now knows that my girls are triplets. And definitely not ladies.

Deception and the Art of Motherhood

2008-07-10T13:15:00.000-07:00

True confession time: sometimes I lie to my children. (This would be your cue to gasp.) I am not proud of the little fibs I occasionally tell, but at times they seem nothing short of necessary:

Example 1: I bake an amazing main dish of eggplant parmesan and I bread and cheese and sauce the meal for nobody's business, so as to disguise the fact that the starring item in the dish is... a vegetable! (and one with a weird name, at that.)

My kids are chowing the stuff down when Taylor (the pickiest of all my eaters) says, "Hey... this is good. But what is it?" "Oh," I fumble. "Something new. A parmesan casserole!" "Yeah," she presses on, stabbing a piece of eggplant with her fork. "But what is THIS?" "Chicken," I lie, so smoothly that she doesn't doubt me for a moment and even asks for seconds.

Example 2: Thanks to my fellow bloggers and bffs, we have a new breakfast favorite here in our house. I like to call it The Super Smoothie. With a little help from The Magic Bullet (love, love, love it! How did I ever live without it?), I blend up the following concoction: milk, banana, frozen berries, protein powder, ground flax seed and... spinach! (brilliant, SARAH! brilliant, Julie!) I swear to you that each of my six children BEG me to make them a Super Smoothie every morning. And I happily oblige while turning my back to them as I add the "secret ingredients" (it's very cloak-and-dagger), all the while walking around with a funny little smile on my face because it perversely pleases me to know that I am tricking my children into chugging something that is so fantabulously healthy.

I had a close call, however, this past week. In all my smug glory, I apparently got a little lazy and didn't blend the tar out of our secret concotion. That's not to say that it wasn't fully blended, mind you, I just hadn't Magic Bullet'ed it to smithereens to obliterate all trace of the spinach. So when Taylor spotted a little green fleck with her eagle eye and asked me, in horror, what the green stuff was in her smoothie, out came a lie: "Hmm... must be a piece of berry stem." And she bought it- hook, line and sinker- which is a good thing. Because I promise you that if she knew there was spinach in her smoothie, she would never, ever touch it again.

It would seem that my little white lies revolve soley around food. Unfortunately, they have extended into other arenas as well. Like when Carter came home from school, complaining that some "crazy mom" called the school district transportation office and now the bus driver is not allowed to play the radio on the bus. Ever. Apparently I didn't hide the glee that passed over my face quickly enough because his jaw dropped: "Oh my gosh! You are the crazy mom who made the call, aren't you? You narc'ed on the bus driver!" "Of course I didn't narc on the bus driver," I said with as much righteous indignation as I could muster. "I would never want to get anybody in trouble!" Which was true... in part. But of course it was totally me that made the call, and justifiably so! I mean, talk about crazy ladies: this woman was playing the raunchy rap station nonstop (including the horrific morning show) with absolutely no regard to how inappropriate it was for her elementary school passengers. I'm sorry, but when your seven-year-old makes reference to a lewd term that she heard on the radio of her school bus- a term that was made popular by the scandals of Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky- well, let's just say that a mom is entitled to go a little nuts.

So I'm a liar. And I've never even felt all that badly about it until just recently. You see, we do an ongoing "value of the month" in our house and guess what the value of the month is for July...?

Every day I look up at this reminder on my wall and feel twinges of guilt. And then, as we do "honesty role-plays" and talk about what honesty means with the children, the twinges turn more into stabs of guilt.

This guilt, however, was assuaged by something I saw on Oprah: Jessica Seinfeld (cute and smart wife of Jerry), describing the principles behind her fabulous book, "Deceptively Delicious." She has mastered an entire cookbook on the very brilliance that I haphazardly stumbled onto: puree'ing vegetables and sneaking them into "normal" kids foods. Ingenious! My pal, Mindy, lent me this book and I've gone crazy trying things out and making up a few recipes of my own. (These days, Quinn eyes everything I make with suspicion and secretly pulls me aside to ask me what I snuck into tonight's dinner.)

Deception. Deception. Deception. I really don't want to lie to my kids to get them to eat vegetables. And I don't want to have to lie to my kids in order to create a better environment for them on the bus, but... what's a mother to do? In a perfect world, kids would love vegetables and bus drivers would have a clue.

Now if I were really computer-savvy and clever like my sisters, I'd post this entry as a poll and ask you to vote with your opinion: "Is it okay to be dishonest with your children if you really believe it's for a good cause?" But, sadly, I am not savvy or clever like that, so I'll just beg you to leave your opinion as a comment for me in the "comments" section.

And please, if you think I'm a horrible mom for my little deceptions, be kind in your comments. Lie, if you must.

Overheard: Cracked

2008-07-03T14:58:00.000-07:00

Tanner: "Hey Mom, I'm in that room in the front. (the formal living room) What do we call that room? The other play room? Anyways, I'm in that other play room teaching myself cartwheels!"

Me: "Oh, that sounds a little dangerous."

Sydney: (perking up) "Yeah, that sounds dangerous. I want to come!"

Tanner: "This is hard stuff, Sydney. You might really crack your head."

Sydney: "Okay. Let's go!"

I am always amused by the kids' sense of time. Tanner will say things like, "Remember when we saw that frog yester-night?" or Riley will say "Did we go to the pool laster-day?" And Bailey thinks that everything happened last year. She'll say things like, "Oh, yeah. We went to the park laster year when I was two" when in actuality we went to the park last week when she was three.

So I guess time really is relative. It goes way too fast for me, but lately the days are dragging for poor Tanner, who has been anxious for his birthday since the girls had their party in April! He has said to me several times over the past few months, "Isn't it August for my birthday yet?!? I've been SO patient!" We kept telling him (for months now) that he had to wait for May to be over and then June and then in July we'd see fireworks and then shortly after that it would be his birthday. So he woke up today and said, "I'm so excited! Today is my birthday!!!" Huh? We finally figured out that he thought it was his birthday literally the day after he saw fireworks. We tried to explain to him that it's still July and that his birthday isn't until August, but he was insistent that August is today. Poor kid! It's going to be a loooooong few weeks for him!

Speaking of Tanner's birthday, I've had this whole pirate birthday party idea planned out for him since like January, and he gets so excited about it. I told him we are going to dig for buried treasure in the sand box and do a pirate scavenger hunt and then "walk the plank", which he has translated into a "pirate walk" somehow. (He insists that we are all going to put on our pirate outfits and hold hands and walk around the block. In mid-August. In pirate garb. Uh, I don't think so.) But he tells everybody we meet about his pirate party and recently invited the dental hygenist who cleaned his teeth to come! She was so cute with him and said she'd love to go because she only has daughters so she never gets to go to pirate stuff, and- I swear- Tanner waggled his eyebrows, batted his lashes, and said, "Bring your girls, too!" (Like, hey baby, what's your sign? Why don't you bring some friends along with you to my party?) What a player!

Scripture study with the kids is interesting lately. We do a "little kid" scripture and then put the four youngest down and do a "big kid" scripture with just Carter and Taylor. The little kid scripture is generally something simple that they all repeat after us like, "Jesus says, love one another" or (my favorite) "Jesus says, honor your father and mother." We have a little scripture/prayer wheel and when it was Tanner's turn to pick the scripture he asked, "How about we do a scripture about Monster Trucks?" When this request was denied, he acquiesced, "Okay, then let's just do a scripture about Transformers."

Following suit, last night Bailey wanted to do a "pretty princess scripture." When we tried to re-direct her efforts, she put her little hands on her hips and said, "I either want a princess scripture or a flower scripture. The end!"

As for prayers, Riley's still take the cake. She says stuff like, "Thank you that we could eat little yummy goldfish, and thank you that my sore neck is feeling all better, and thank you that I can have lots and lots of beautiful crayons... etc. etc. etc." We have to prompt her to finish, or it could go on for hours, which is hilarious considering that she's our "quiet one."

Overheard: Wishes

2008-06-27T20:05:00.000-07:00

Well, you turn your back for one minute to do something as unimportant as making dinner for eight people and... you look up to see your three-year-old sitting proudly atop the very tippy-top of your playset! In only his underwear. With a storm brewing over his head. And, after you gasp in horror, instead of getting the three-year-old down, you call out to your husband to get the camera so you can first take a picture. Now that's good parenting!

And, for all the wild and crazy things our kids do, it seems that they are just as often saying wild and crazy things. Here are a few more silly things they have recently said:

Tanner: "Hey, Mom! I found your machine for your wishes!"

Me: "My what?"

Tanner: "Your wishes machine! You know, the thing to open and close your wishes."

Me: (totally stumped) "Uh, I don't really know what you're talking about. Could you show me?"

Tanner: (runs in and holds up an eyelash curler) "See- your eyewish machine!"

(has he really gone his entire little life thinking that eyelashes are eyewishes?!?)

Sydney, trying to put her shoes on by herself holds up a shoe and asks, "Mom, is this shoe for my right foot?" "Yes," I tell her, "Good job! That's your right foot!" "Oh," she says, very knowingly, holding up the other (left) shoe, "So this is the shoe for my wrong foot."

Apparently our air-conditioner is running a little cold because Tanner came in and said, "Mom, I'm so cold! We'd better go to the pool to warm up!"

Me: "I think we're going to skip the pool today. I have a little stomach ache."

Tanner: "Oh, we'd better go to the pool, then. It'll make you feel so much better!"

Me: (guffaw) "I don't think so, buddy. Swimming right now would make me feel worse."

Tanner: "But Dr. Dan told me that when you have a stomach ache you should go swimming to get all better."

Me: "Nice try."

Bailey, playing in the backyard with a pretend lawn mower (which is obviously the most action our lawn has seen in a few weeks) calls out to me:

"Mom! Scooch over! I am trying to move the lawn!"

Me: "You're trying to do what?!?"

Bailey: "I'm trying to move the lawn with my lawn mover. Just like Daddy!"

p.s.- would somebody please email my husband and tell him to move our back lawn? Or perhaps I should just wish it into existence with the help of my eyewish machine?

Lost & Found

2008-06-24T14:53:00.000-07:00

I have found that the one major pitfall of finally living in a house big enough for all of us is that there is a lot more space for things to get lost! (More beds for small little princess crowns to fall under, more cabinets for things to slip behind, and-quite frankly- more junk accumulated from the sheer size of our family.) It's a constant challenge.

But as summer presses on, I've noticed an interesting dichotomy between my big two kids and the younger four. Allow me to illustrate through recent examples:

Taylor: "Mom! I can't find my glasses! Where did you put them?"

Me: "Well, let's see. Hmm... the last time I wore your glasses was... Oh, yeah. Never."

Taylor: "Seriously, Mom. I need to find them, and you're the only one that ever puts stuff away!" (she actually said that.)

Me: "Well, that's interesting! But I really didn't touch them. So let's think through some alternate explanations: Maybe you left them on the entry table and they fell behind the plant? Maybe you put them by your lamp and you just can't see them? Maybe you left them in the car after piano lessons? Maybe you-"

Taylor: "Okay, Mom, I get it. You don't know where my glasses are." (Sigh) "I'll go look for them, since I have to do everything!"

?????????????

As we're leaving the swimming pool Carter approaches me:

Carter: "Hey, Mom! Um, you have my yellow Notre Dame t-shirt, right?"

Me: "You mean the one that you wore over here and then peeled off as soon as we got here?"

Carter: "Yep. That's the one!"

Me: "Hmm... well let's see... I have approximately eight wet water shoes, four soggy water vests, 5 sopping wet swim shirts, 7 soaking towels, 8 water noodles, and 4 tired toddlers. Nope! It would seem that I have everything BUT your shirt."

Carter: "Seriously? You don't have my shirt?"

Me: "Carter, you are thirteen years old! Why would you expect me to keep track of your shirt?"

Carter: (sigh.) "Okay, I see how it is. I'll go find it."

??????????????

So here's the dichotomy: the little four NEVER come to me, asking where stuff is. This is, quite obviously, because they are the ones who lose the stuff. Therefore, ironically enough, I find myself approaching three-year-olds in the quest for finding lost items.

Me: "Okay, guys! Mommy can't find her cell phone. Does anybody know where it is?"

Sydney: "Oh, I will save your day, Mommy! I know where your cella-phone is!"

Me: "Great! Where is it?"

Sydney: "It's in my purse. I was keepin' it safe for you." (She dug through 3 toy bins before finding the right "purse" underneath an avalanche of toys.)

Me: "Okay, guys! Mommy can't find her sunglasses! Does anybody know where my sunglasses are?"

Tanner: "Me! I know right where to find them."

Me: "Okaaaaay..." (as he pulls me into the backyard and behind the sandbox near the fence.)

Tanner: "See! They're right there on the fence!"

Me: "Okaaaaay... why are my sunglasses on the fence?"

Tanner: "Cuz we was tryin' to put them on a lizard. The sun is very bright today and the poor lizard was gettin' squinty eyes."

Me: "Um... well, I guess that was very nice of you? Next time, ask, okay?"

Tanner: "Okay! Next time I will ask... unless it's a lizard emergency!"

Well, all lizard emergencies aside, you can see how there is no way I can find anything by myself once the little ones have decided to put that item to good use. I am completely at their mercy. And I'm stumped as to why my big kids seem to think that I should be responsible for every item they use, and know where their stuff is at all times. Hmmmm... this should make for a very long summer of seeking and finding. (In the oddest of places, of course.)

"I Got My Baby Back, Baby Back, Baby Back..."

2008-06-21T21:00:00.000-07:00

Well, we finally got Carter back! He's been away at the LDS Scout Camp at Camp Shands all this past week. They left right after church on Sunday (which I raised a stern eyebrow at), and just returned this past Saturday afternoon. This was a long and slightly lonely week for me! I've gotten used to having him home now for the summer, and I found myself a little bored during the day without anybody around to crack a sarcastic joke to! (Somehow, the crazy/funny stuff the little ones do is crazier and funnier when Carter's around to roll his eyes about it with me.) And who else is there that will do something as zany as, while Quinn runs in to grab his car keys, hop on top of the van and stand there in "karate kid" pose, just to crack us up?!?

I know that such absences are really just the beginning of the end... Carter will be fourteen before we know it, then driving and dating and gone all the time, then off to college and a mission and... this really freaks me out! I'm not done with him yet!

This point was further driven home when my dear friend from Hawaii, Kelly, emailed me a recent picture of her kids. I couldn't believe how GROWN UP they are! And this was particularly weird to me because her son, Caleb, has always been just a few years older than Carter, so I would look to him and Makana as my guides for what would be coming up for me around the corner with Carter. (For example, when Caleb started Scouts, I would listen closely to Kelly as she talked about all that this entailed because I knew that in just a bit I'd be going through the same thing with Carter.)

Funny... it seems like just yesterday that I parked our white minivan outside the playground at the elementary school in Virginia where he began afternoon kindergarten. I waited (with toddler Taylor strapped in, and growing impatient as the minutes ticked on) simply because I HAD to see my little guy playing at recess. I HAD to make sure that the other kids were being nice to him- that somebody was playing with him, and that he wasn't sad without me.

He wasn't sad without me. As is his way, he had a throng of new little buddies and didn't even look my direction. But seeing him throw a ball around with a grin was enough to steady my overprotective heart. We drove home.

Only to come back again the next day at the same time to make sure that the first day wasn't a happy fluke.

It wasn't. And, frankly, I'm lucky that I wasn't pulled into the police station (conveniently located across the street) for questioning because I'm sure I looked like a real weirdo stalker, parked out in front of an elementary school playground like that.

And so I am reminded of that famous Elizabeth Stone quote: “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” For a control freak like me, I am very uncomfortable with my heart walking around outside my body, beyond the scope of my control.

And the older they get, the more that heart walks around outside of your presence! Carter is one busy kid with all the stuff he's involved in, so often I feel like that part of my heart is running- not walking- around all over the place without me!

Quinn and Carter were wise in not telling me much about Scout Camp until we'd already paid and had him packed to go. You see, Carter signed up for the following merit badges: canoeing (in a lake that is sure to have alligators), life-saving (same lake, same alligators), water-skiing (again with the alligators), and... SHOTGUN SHOOTING. Are you kidding me? Who puts a gun in the hands of a thirteen-year-old and teaches him how to shoot it without me around to wring my hands in worry and dismay?!?!? This was most certainly not my idea.

So on top of me worrying about the alligators and, uh, bullets (is that what they use in shotguns? or is it shells?) On top of those worries, I missed the little guy and found myself singing along to that old Chili's Babyback Ribs song... you know the one: "I want my baby back baby back baby back, I want my baby back baby back baby back.")

Well he came back in one piece- stinky and tired and loaded down with a ton of dirty laundry. He came back full of interesting tales of shotguns and up-close encounters with alligators. (Be still my heart!) And he came back, happy to be home but excited, of course, for his next adventure. (Sigh.)

Overheard: and the silliness award for the week goes to Bailey!

2008-06-20T13:56:00.000-07:00

Me: Hey, Bailey, we're about to have a very special, special Family Home Evening about Faith. Can you go tell that to your sisters?

Bailey: (yelling out, while running to find her sisters) Hey guys! We're havin' BROWNIES!!!!

Me: Bailey, you're so silly! Maybe I should sell you to the circus! Or maybe I should just sell ya to the gypsies!

Bailey: (big grin) Not the circus! Sell me to da gypsies!

Me: Do you even know what gypsies are?

Bailey: Yeah, they're the green teletubbies. (Dipsies) But I don't like dat kind so much. Sell me to the "La La's" instead! (those would be the yellow teletubbies.)

Bailey asks me at least four times a day, and usually following one of her many outfit changes: "Mom, do you think I look like a pretty princess?"

I've been teaching the kids about being "share bears" and "care bears" to each other, and I have been giving out "awards" (a picture of a CareBear on a necklace that they get to wear) to the little kids when they do something particularly sharing or caring. This was working very well at motivating them, and the level of sweetness in the house was down-right sticky for a while. Until Bailey had a realization: Sharing and Caring isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Me: Hey, Bailey! You can't take that away from Riley. Is that being a Share Bear?

Bailey: No. (sigh)

Me: How about you be a Share Bear and give the toy back to her?

Bailey: (about to give the toy back, then hesitating.) Umm, no. I don't think I want to be a Share Bear anymore. It's no fun.

Me: (flabberghasted) But it IS fun to be kind! And you feel so good inside when you share and care!

Bailey: No. I only want the toy. (grab.)

From the Mouths of Babes (Part II)

2008-06-17T18:42:00.000-07:00

Quinn here. I loved Kel’s Fathers’ Day entry so much that I wanted more. Here are the fearsome foursome’s uncensored responses to a second round of interviews, this time by Daddy:

Me: What’s Mommy’s favorite color?
Tanner: White
Sydney: Pink and blue
Riley: Black
Bailey: Brown. No! It’s yellow! (correct)

Me: What’s Mommy’s favorite food?
Tanner: Noodles (same answer Bailey gave for me)
Sydney: Bananas (same answer she gave for me)
Riley: Pineapple (same answer she gave for me)
Bailey: Bananas (same answer Sydney gave for me)

Me: How old is Mommy?
Tanner: (shrugs)
Sydney: 2!
Riley: 2
Bailey: (Tentatively holds up 4 fingers)

Me: What does Mommy like to do for fun?
Tanner: Go to a parade (??-we've never been to one)
Sydney: Running
Riley: Play with games
Bailey: Eat gum. She eats it all gone

Me: What’s Mommy’s job?
Tanner: To clean her room and clean the playroom
Sydney: To sleep
Riley: To give some clothes onto you (Daddy)
Bailey: To get a shirt

Me: What does Mommy like to do after you go to bed?
Tanner: Talk to people on the phone
Sydney: Go to sleep
Riley: Go to draw numbers (one of Riley's favorite pasttimes)
Bailey: Put me back in bed when I get out (correct again)

Me: What does Mommy say to you?
Tanner: “No going anywhere unless you tell a grownup!”
Sydney: That she loves me and, “thank you for being such a great helper!”
Riley: “Always I like Riley”
Bailey: “Bailey Boo! Bailey Boo! Ah Silly Silly Boo!”

Me: What’s Mommy’s favorite thing to do with you?
Tanner: Making silly faces
Sydney: Playing and running
Riley: Playing hiding and making some snowmans
Bailey: Play with me, and be mad at Tanner

Me: What’s your favorite thing to do with Mommy?
Tanner: Kissing and hugging
Sydney: Running and playing and taking me to the swimming pool
Riley: Give her some nice treats
Bailey: Play with her, and it’s a very good job for her and me and you!

"We're So Glad When Daddy Comes Home, Glad As We Can Be!"

2008-06-16T11:55:00.000-07:00

We have had so much fun putting Quinn up on his rightful pedestal for Father's Day! I say this without one whit of sarcasm: I can't imagine a father more deserving of high praise and lots of smudgey presents. (we'll get to that.)

Here's the thing: Quinn's last birthday was a little underwhelming. We barely managed cake, and his big present is still on back-order. (He was born on tax day, so cut me a break here! Sadly, I am sometimes thinking more of Uncle Sam on this frenzied day, then I am of Quinn's birthday. Shameful, I know. It's just a good thing that it wasn't a "big" birthday, like he was turning forty or something!)

At any rate, I decided to make up for things a bit, if you will, by going big on Father's Day. And we had a blast! We let him sleep in (probably the best gift he's had in a while, thanks to Stake Conference today!). Carter brought him breakfast in bed that he made all by himself, including chocolate-dipped strawberries. Swanky. Taylor created a multiple-choice menu for his lunch and served a four-course delectable meal. And I made him dinner which was not quite as fancy but adequate nonetheless. We topped it off with a huge family-sized cupcake! (What will Wilton think of next?!? And though I am certainly not as gifted at baking cakes as my clever sisters, I found this was a rather no-fail procedure that even I could barely mess up.)

Then we moved on to presents! I went a little overboard on the home-made present thing, but Quinn is a sentimental guy, so I love to do sappy things that make him tear up. (Hee hee.) I had each of the kids do a painting on canvas for his office. (Part-way through this project, I was pretty sure that it was the dumbest- and messiest- idea I'd ever had!) But the paintings were so fun, and such a snapshot of each child's personality. (Think of the MasterCard commercial: "Art supplies at JoAnn's Craft Store: $35. Cleaning supplies for getting paint out of the carpet: $15. Cost of Therapy for the mother who had this lapse of sanity: $100s. Cute little paintings on canvas: priceless.")

Next we did hand and foot prints (or "pawprints" as Sydney calls them) of each child. Again, on canvas.

And, with the help of my brilliant, cool, and crafty friend... I created a "business sign" for Quinn using vinyl letters cut on a Cricut machine. (Thanks, Christy!) This sign was something Quinn and I had joked about doing for a year now- ever since one of our neighbors was almost arrested for running a "daycare" that turned out to be her six children.

Of course there was the usual hodge-podge of "World's Greatest Dad" t-shirts and the like. Carter opted out of painting on canvas (stinker!) but spent hours making him a CD mix of his favorite songs.

Again, I'll close with a little "Quinn Quiz" and the little fours' uncensored answers:

Me: What is Daddy's favorite color?
Sydney: pink!
Riley: red!
Tanner & Bailey: blue!

Me: What is Daddy's favorite food to eat?
Sydney: bananas!
Riley: pineapple!
Bailey: Easy Mac
Tanner: that's easy- I know- CHOCOLATE!

Me: Where does Daddy work?
Sydney: Uh, with all the teddy bears? And then he comes home for dinner.
Riley: He works at the sidewalk.
Bailey: He works at a school.
Tanner: He works on the highway! You go on the highway to get to his work on the highway.

Me: What does Daddy do at work?
Sydney: He plays with toys.
Riley: He likes to park his car at work. At the sidewalk. Then he plays.
Bailey: He loves Mommy when he's at work. Maybe he calls you on his cell phone?
Tanner: At work, Daddy teaches about Jesus and watches TV.

Me: What do you love best about Daddy?
Sydney: he's so cute when he smiles at me!
Riley: I love that he takes care to me and he teaches me not to cut my hair.
Bailey: he's my favorite kind of daddy and I love him.
Tanner: he is my best friend.

Well, said! We sure love the man of this house. Quinn, you are the tops! I feel so lucky to have you as my husband, and to see you in action as a father. Our kids adore you, and for very good reason. You're the best! Happy Father's Day! (And happy belated birthday- ha ha!)

Ode to Gwampa

2008-06-15T17:25:00.000-07:00

I had an idyllic childhood. I really did, and I owe so much to my mom and dad for giving me that gift. I hold them in the highest regard.

Both of my parents made a visit at the end of May, which sent all of my children into fits of joy! And there's nobody better at riling my kids up into a frenzy than my own dad! (particularly when it's right before bedtime.) He's a real joker. (We're talking about the man who walked off the plane to visit us once, wearing a pair of kid underoos on his head just to make preschool Carter laugh. And laugh he did!)

My dad came out to help when we first brought the triplets home from the NICU and were simultaneously moving into our new house. (Ugh- I'm tired just remembering it!) He was so funny, doing little "pop quizzes" by holding up a baby and saying, "Quick, Kel. Which one is this?" (Believe it or not, they actually looked a lot alike as newborns!) When I'd return the favor and "quiz" him, he'd have to lift off their little newborn hats, turn them sideways to see their profile and the shape of their head to make his determination. It was very endearing!

There's lots to love about my dad. His honesty. His integrity. His commitment to family. His devotion to the gospel. His wacky sense of humor. The way he seems to make every stranger his friend. (My neighbors, whom I barely know, are always asking about him, and he remembers their names each time he comes to visit.)

And then there's the quirky stuff: the way he stops to practice his golf swing, multiple times throughout the day and without any warning. (Recently we were on the beach at Hilton Head. My dad was walking up the pier when, abruptly, he stopped midstride to take a couple of golf swings. Tanner turned to me and said, "I love it when Grampa does that! But why does he?")

I love the way my dad watches conservative news stations with the same zeal with which I follow "Lost" and "Survivor." And gets just as incensed by the characters and storylines. I know that Dad gets a lot of guff for being a "conspiracy theorist," but everything he says on such matters makes perfect sense to me. (And fills me with not just a little alarm.)

But I love best the amount of effort that this man puts into keeping our large and geographically spread-out family together. My parents drop everything to be regular visitors and constant players in our life out here in Florida.

So I'll close with a little "pop quiz" of my kids, listing their uncensored answers to the question: "What do you like best about Grandpa?"

Carter: (currently away at Scout Camp- he will "phone in" his response.)

Taylor: my favorite thing about Grandpa is that he married Grandma! And that he calls beans "chipmunk doo doo."

Tanner: my favorite thing about Grampa is that when I was a baby he took me for a silly ride to see Superman. And I love it when he tucks me in.

Sydney: I love that Gwampa takes good care of me when I was a baby and I love him forever 'cuz I'm a big kid now.

Bailey: Gwampa is my favorite silly friend and he sang me a song when I was a baby.

Riley: I like Grampa to play silly giggle games with me. He is my best best friend.

Out of the mouths of babes . . . .We love you, Dad! Thanks for everything, and Happy Father's Day!

Somewhere Over the Rainbow . . .

2008-06-14T08:48:00.001-07:00

Okay, in honor of the four beautiful years we spent in Hawaii (2000-2005) and my love for all things Iz, I started a playlist with one of my all-time favorite songs as the header. ("Somewhere Over the Rainbow"). Now if you have only heard the Judy Garland version, you are in for a treat. Somehow Israel Kamakawiwo'ole (let's go with Iz) has managed to make even a show tune achingly beautiful.

Which brings me back to Hawaii. Achingly beautiful. But even more than the beauty of the island, I miss my beautiful Hawaiian friends. Some, like us, have moved away. Some are still there- along with a sizable chunk of my heart. (You know who you are- you who I think of often, and always as my family.)

So I'm in sentimental Hawaii mode, which was exacerbated when my good pal here was telling me about her daughter's birthday party plan: she is having a Hawaiian luau. So as we talked about fun Hawaiian things, she told me about a website that gives you literal Hawaiian translations for names. I was stunned that I was able to find every single one of our names on the list, along with their Hawaiian counterparts.

And so before I wax melancholy, here's a little matching game-- let's see who can figure out which Hawaiian name belongs to which of my kids (Carter, Taylor, Tanner, Riley, Bailey and Sydney):

Kakeli
Kailolu
Kaneli
Lilei
Pailei
Kikenei

Stumped? Well, try saying the names out loud. It won't help any, but it's fun to do. (Wish I could be there to watch!) You should have seen us when we first moved to Hawaii and tried to read the road signs: "Wait! Are we on Kamehameha or Kapiolani? Punalu or Punahou? Are we in Waikeli or Wahiawa?" Ugh! It didn't take long before the vowel-dominant words were bouncing off our tongues with relative ease. (And much more easily for Carter and Taylor who looked and sounded Hawaiian before we'd even been there a year! In fact, Taylor still thinks of herself as "part-Hawaiian," and I will have to set her straight before she marks the "Pacific Islander" box on her college apps and gets busted for scholarship fraud.)

Shockingly, we even miss the way our kids would giggle at innocuous Hawaiian words: "The waiter just asked us if we want to eat pupus!!!" or "Look! That street is PupuMomi! Poopy Mommy! And that one is PupuKaki!" Yes, for word nerds and four-year-olds, the fun was never ending.

But back to the sap. I miss the way that people in Hawaii seem to embrace everybody- both physically and emotionally. (I'll never forget our first day at church when the bishop introduced himself and gave us each a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Carter, then 4, said indignantly, "Hey! That guy just kissed you, Mom! That was totally inappropriate!" I couldn't shush him fast enough. He outgrew it and was used to being kissed and kissing within no time. Wish that one would have stuck!) And when somebody gets up to the pulpit at church, the first thing they say is, "Aloha, my brothers and sisters!" and the entire congregation says it right back to the speaker: "ALOHA!"

I miss the way everybody in Hawaii is "auntie" or "uncle." You go to the grocery store and the 16-year-old bagger whom you've never met before says, "Would you like help out to your car, Auntie?" Your kids call every last one of your neighbors and church members "Auntie" this and "Uncle" that, and there is just this huge sense of community and family that comes from it. I loved that.

And I love the tradition of the lei. Mother's Day was a sight to behold as every mother entered the church building, with multiple leis swarthed around their necks. The smell of ginger and gardenia was overpowering! And when a child is baptized or graduates, they are so covered in dozens of leis that they can barely move their necks! (Carter was the happy recipient of this tradition when he was baptized there.)

And I am forever grateful to the people of Hawaii who embraced us when we suffered our greatest loss imaginable- for their love and support and for the way they wrapped their arms around us and held us up when we didn't know how to make it through another day. The Mozos. The Prados. The Bishops. The Smiths. The Clarks. The Bradys. The Chongs. Sally Lee... and so many other friends and neighbors, too numerous to list. I can't imagine grieving and healing anywhere else, with anyone else.

Like the sharp contrast in the valleys and peaks of the mountains in Kaneohe, the depths of our sorrow were startlingly contrasted by the sky-high reaches of our joy. Hawaii also brought us the greatest gift we'd ever received: we left paradise with four-month-old Tanner in our arms. (And with newly-conceived triplets in my belly.)

Speaking of whom, here are the answers to our little game: the Hawaiian names are listed top to bottom in the order of my children from oldest to youngest. (That is, Carter is Kakeli, Taylor is Kailolu, Tanner is Kaneli, Riley is Lilei, Bailey is Pailei, and Sydney is Kikenei.) That was a lot of work for something that is probably only interesting to me! But it's definitely worth checking for your own Hawaiian names on the website.

So ALOHA (which means hello, goodbye, and love) to my wonderful friends from Hawaii! We love and miss you all. It seems like we were all brought together at a magical time and place. I'll leave you with a beautiful shot taken by the late Jon Mozo, photographer extraordinaire, and our dear friend forever:

Overheard: the blind leading the blind

2008-06-13T20:34:00.000-07:00

Riley to Tanner after he took a toy away from her:

"No! Tanner, you have to be nice! Jesus says for you to be nice. So give that back or Jesus is gonna zap you." (hmmm... maybe our FHE lesson on Justice and Mercy was a bit too heavy?)

Bailey, hugging me tight as I put her to bed:

"Oh, Mommy! I love you so much too much! (squeeze.) Now go away."

Tanner to me this morning:

"Mom! Your boys are back! You can talk again! The frog went out of your froat and now your boys are back!" (I think he truly envisions my "boys"- ie, voice- battling that mean old frog out of my throat?)

Tanner to Bailey after she grabs his swim trunks to wear:

"No, Bailey! Jesus sent you to earth to be a girl! You can't change your mind!" (this ironic from our boy who was wearing a tutu last week.)

Sydney approaches Grandma during their visit in May after Grandpa was teasing her

"Gwamma- Gwampa said "Pee Pee Spider" to me! Make him stop that out!" (for the record, he said "creepy creepy spider" and she wanted him to cut it out. Grandma is the authority on making Grandpa stop things out.)

You Don't Mess With the Tanner Zohan

2008-06-12T17:18:00.000-07:00

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!!!!" This is the scream you would have heard if you were anywhere within a mile radius of my home Saturday night. I'd spent the afternoon hefting around food storage boxes and decided to plop down on the floor to read for a minute while the triplets were in the tub when... my back decided to stop working. (Now if anything will make you feel old, it is throwing your back out by sitting down on the floor. What the heck?) But I found myself in a very strange position: I couldn't stand up and I couldn't fully sit down, so I was kind-of "matrixed" mid-air in excruciating pain. Thus the scream. Quinn came bolting across the hall from the other bathroom where he was bathing Tanner, certain that I'd somehow lost a limb. And he was not just a little freaked out by how messed up that back of mine was. Long story short: I spent Saturday night, Sunday, and most of Monday flat on my achey-breaky-back, doped out on valium and Lortab, on advice of our good friend Dr. Dan, the ER Doc. And it worked: my back feels good as new.

But somewhere between Sunday and Monday I developed a horrible sore throat and lost my voice (quite possibly from Saturday night's scream), and I felt downright crummy. With the amazing help of Carter and Taylor and my good pal Christy (wife of Dr. Dan), the little four were well-cared for. And I assured everyone that I was fine, but had vastly overestimated myself because on Tuesday I felt rather thrown to the wolves as I tried to muddle through the routine by myself. I still felt rotten and I still had no voice, so I called Quinn at work and croakingly begged him to stay home and take care of me the next day.

Which brings us to Wednesday: The day started sweetly enough. I leisurely awoke at 8am. With Quinn asleep by my side. "Hmmm," I thought, "That's odd. The children are all usually up by 7am." My ears perked, but I heard not a sound from any of our six children.

And that's when the panic set in. You see, there are few things more startling than the sounds of silence in our otherwise raucous abode. I jumped out of bed (despite slight protest from my back) and raced down the stairs to see what was the matter. And this is what I found:

Huge chunks of hair- long, multicolored strands of it- all over the kitchen floor. Along with a bunch of chocolate wrappers. And four very wide-eyed three-year-olds with chocolate smeared all over their faces and lots of weird-looking haircuts.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!!!!" is what I screamed again, probably louder this time than before. Quinn was downstairs in a flash, certain this time that I had thrown my back out again AND lost a limb in the process. "What is the matter?" he cried. But I was rendered speechless. I hadn't even assessed the true damage yet. All I knew was that somebody was in very big trouble.

That somebody turned out to be Tanner. Apparently Taylor had left her school scissors within his agile reach and he decided to play barber shop. Sydney- a willing victim, I'm sure- got the worst of it. (In the past, I could write sonnets about the mane of hair that child has, but those days are gone for a while. She now looks a lot like Angelina Jolie's child who sports the mohawk. And I'm pretty sure he's a boy.) Riley is not a whole lot better. And Bailey got off the easiest, but not unscathed by any means. Tanner turned scissors on his own head of hair, lobbing uneven chunks throughout, but this turned out to be a benefit as he was in need of a haircut anyways.

It's Thursday and I still feel pretty crummy, I still have no voice, and I now have three little girls with horrendous home-made haircuts. (Please, oh please, let the mullet come back in little girl fashion!) My food storage boxes are still not all put away (and I'm certainly not feeling very blessed for trying to keep up on this duty!), and I owe my husband, friends, and oldest two children a lot of favors for all their help this past week. Not to mention Dr. Dan. The only thing that is actually better right now is, ironically, my back. And back pain was the only thing that they'll prescribe valium for. Sigh.

Okay, okay. Time to stop my little pity party. I am sure that I will someday find the humor in this little incident. I give it three years. By then, the girls' hair should be grown out.

2008-05-22T14:23:00.000-07:00

Overheard: funny stuff my kids said this week

2008-05-21T11:45:00.000-07:00

So when my kids aren't sticking crayons up their noses and saying, "Hey Mom, look at this!" or slicking back their hair to look like James Bond (or Draco Malfoy, in my opinion) they are saying things that I think are pretty funny. I've been writing these things on the calendar, so I can keep track of when they said these little humorous gems. But it occurred to me to stick it in the blog, too, so that I can torture you with things that I think are hilarious but might only be funny to me because I am the mom. :)

So here goes:

Tanner: "Hey Mom! I'm just like Degio (Diego)- I can count in Spanich: uno, dos, tres, waffle, cinco, tres..."

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Quinn: (helping Sydney say the prayer) "Please bless Mommy for her selfless service."

Sydney: "Please bless Mommy and her cell phone service."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Tanner: "Mom, if you say no to me then I am going up to my room madly."

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Sydney: (after I told her she couldn't have another popsicle) "But my dad says you can't say "no" to me. My dad said so!"

Me: "How about if I call Daddy and ask him about that?"

Sydney: "No, don't call him!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Bailey picks up the phone, pushes buttons, and then says dejectedly:
"Oh. It don't understand me. I was tryin' to call Nana Jean. But the silly phone don't understand me!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Riley saying a prayer: "Stank you (thank you) that we can go to the zoo tomorrow. And stank you that we can have lots of candy." (apparently Riley believes that prayers are kinda like wishing on a star since we had no plans to go to the zoo or eat any candy!)

Let's Hear it for the Boy! ("Little David")

2008-05-21T11:06:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I'm the idiot that stayed up until 1 a.m. hitting the redial button on my phone so that I could vote for David Archuletta. Approximately 326 times. Pathetic, I know, but I couldn't help myself. I'm sure my little votes won't sway the competition, but I simply had to do my part. I SO want him to be the next American Idol! And I could list dozens of reasons why I want him to win and why I think he should win, but it mostly boils down to one big thing: I have a "Mommy Crush" on Little David. And, no, I'm not getting all Mrs. Robinson here. It's nothing like that! It's just that he is so adorable and so sweet and so humble that I really want my boys to be just like him and my daughter to marry him. That is a Mommy Crush. And, oh yeah... the voice. Oh, the voice! So you will know to find me tonight glued to the t.v., with high hopes for a happy ending!

Universal Craziness: band trip

2008-05-19T08:55:00.000-07:00

5a.m. Saturday morning found me wondering what on earth had possessed me to volunteer as a chaperone for the band field trip to Universal Studios. Sitting on a charter bus full of 7th and 8th grade boys in the pre-dawn hours, with the movie "Transformers" blasting throughout the bus, I thought I had probably made a big mistake. It was a little too much testosterone for my blood.

I must note that, for all my concerns with Carter's band teacher, he does one thing that makes him a pretty smart guy in my book: he completely separates genders on field trips. Therefore, we had a girl bus and we had a boy bus. We had girl chaperones and we had boy chaperones. I had thought I was avoiding a lot of giggling and squealing by being a boy chaperone, but I found that boys have their own foibles.

For one thing, I was shocked by their proclivity and ability to scale up any and all vertical surfaces. I'm not kidding. If there was a wall, divider, statue, or even a person that was standing too still, these boys would run up and attempt to climb up to the very top of said object. Or leap frog over said object (or person.) So mostly my job was to keep these boys from breaking their scrawny little necks.

But I digress. We got to the park and the band performed on Universal Studios main stage in the morning. They sounded terrific, and we were all more than a little impressed to see these kids up there playing and behaving so professionally. Again, my reluctant hat off to the band teacher!

Afterwards, we joined forces with my fellow chaperone and good pal, Corrine, as we spent the rest of the day exploring "Islands of Adventure." Between the two of us we had 9 boys to look after, which at times was no easy feat! (They were all in matching yellow band t-shirts, luckily, which made it a bit easier. But as I was head-counting matching kids, it felt not much different than the head-counting of matching kids I do every day with my little ones!)

We had a fantastic time and I was really glad I went, despite my pre-dawn concerns! We bought "Express Passes" which allowed us to fast pass every ride, so we got to do all the big coasters, which was fun. And we ate at Hard Rock Cafe, wherein I was declared a "cool chaperone" because I passed the boys' music trivia quiz. (I could name 3 "cool bands", I could sing the lyrics to a Blink 182 song, and I knew who the grandfather of punk was.) While glad to be deemed "cool", I was quite disheartened when the boys saw a poster of Bono and said, "Hey, who's the old dude?" That was a dagger to the heart! (Only to be made worse when another boy mentioned that Bon Jovi looks like his plumber. Ouch!)

It was thrilling to be able to keep up with a bunch of rambunctious boys for an entire day! Now if only it didn't take me so long to recover from it! (I'm still exhausted!!!)

Our Little Drama Queen

2008-05-18T10:59:00.000-07:00

Well it's been a busy weekend! Friday night we attended Taylor's elementary school production of "Snow White." Taylor was one of the seven dwarfs... Sneezy, to be precise. And a more melodramatic sneezer has never been found! Drama is definitely her thing (which suprises nobody, I'm sure.) She did a great job in the play, and we are immensely proud of her hard work (and her uncanny ability to sneeze with gusto, on cue!) They've been working on this play for almost the whole year, and the entire production was fantastic.

But the drama doesn't end here... in two weeks Taylor will be performing in "Oakleaf Idol", the school talent show. I'll be sure to fill you in!

As a postscript, my dad pointed out the irony of Taylor being one of the "dwarfs", since she is the tallest third-grader we know. She must stand a full head taller than all her fellow dwarfs.

I'm Baaaaaaaaack!

2008-05-16T06:48:00.001-07:00

Okay, I am painfully aware of how I have shirked my blogger-ly duties over the past month and a half. There are a few very good excuses I could give here, but I will spare you the whole "dog-ate-my-keyboard" nonsense, and jump back in. (With particular thanks to those pals who gently nudged me to get back on the blogging horse. And even thanks to the "post a blog now or I won't be your friend anymore" pals. Tough love... it works!)

I post this blog as explanation: I have lots of past items to cover, so I'm going to back-date some posts. This is tacky, I know, but if I don't do it then certain important events won't find their way to this blog. (namely, the triplets' third birthday.) So scroll down, my friends, if you dare!

Officially a Teenager: Happy Birthday, Carter!

2008-03-31T18:29:00.000-07:00

Here's the problem with having a baby on April Fool's Day: nobody believes you when you call to tell them you're in labor. (Particularly if you've been known to play April Fool's pranks before.) So it should surprise nobody that when my water broke to deliver Carter way back in 1995 and I tried frantically to reach everybody related to me, nobody would take the bait. Granted, he was a full two weeks early and my mom swore that first babies ALWAYS come late, but I'm still a little miffed that it was not until she heard the baby's cry through the phone that Mom actually believed I'd given birth. I had labored for 18 hours. Hard labor. Pushed for 3. He got stuck. He was born upside-down. He broke my tailbone. And yet nobody would believe me until it was all over!

Now here is the real April Fool's prank of 1995: in a previous ultrasound, the doctor told us that Carter was going to be a girl. (!) "Go buy yourselves some pink stuff," he declared. And my "maternal instincts" felt certain that he was right- we were having us a girl! So I truly thought this same doctor was joking when he finally arrived on scene, grabbed a pair of forceps, pulled with all his 6' 4" might, and yanked that stuck little baby right out of me, announcing, "It's a boy!" Yeah, right. And, in the end, I was just happy that his head was still attached to his body after all that tugging and pulling of the forceps.

But I only had to take one look at our little April Fool to be under his spell, and I'm afraid that I'm still well under it. He's just a very cool kid, our Carter. He gets along with everybody. He stops older bullies from picking on classmates. He does most everything he sets his mind to. He can play the piano like nobody's business. How could a mother not adore him?

I think his fifth grade teacher said it best: "Carter is a thirty-year-old trapped in a ten-year-old's body." He is as sharp as a whip, as fun to talk to as any grown-up I know, and chock full of interests and pursuits. He is rarely without a list of goals and has a perpetual propensity for checking out nonfiction books on a wide array of topics from martial arts to learning French in 30 Days to Real Estate Investing. He wants to know everything there is, it would seem. Places to go, things to do- I have no doubt.

So of course our trapped little "thirty-year-old" is thrilled to finally enter adolesence! (He's been claiming he's a teenager since he hit the double-digits, and before that insisted he was a "pre-teen" when he turned eight.) And today it's finally official.

And lest you think I'm some braggart of a mom, let me admit: I know he's not perfect. He desperately needs a haircut but thinks his long hair looks great. He forgets to put the milk away, can be a bit self-absorbed, and pulls terrible attitude when he's short on sleep. He doesn't walk on water, that's for sure, but he's as great a kid as any I know and it's simply the way he came down to us.

So happy birthday, April Fool, if you must grow up. I'm going to go find myself a tissue, but let me leave you with this: slow down! Be a teenager for a while (but lose the eye-rolls, please.) We want to spend as much time with you as we can before you fly the coop and wind up doing karate while speaking French and closing a billion-dollar real estate deal.

Words That Send Me Straight to Panic

2008-03-25T16:58:00.000-07:00

“Mom, how do you un-do Krazy Glue? Um, like, from your fingers? That are, um, sticking to the table?” (my 9 year old)

“Mom, what exactly is an emancipated minor? And how do you become one?” (my 12 year old)

“Mom, I went number two but don’t worry cuz I wiped myself.” (my 3 year old)

“Mom, we don’t pick our noses, do we? And we don’t put the boogers on the couch. Right?” (one of my 2 year olds)

“Mom, I didn’t do it! I didn’t spill all the blue nail polish in Tanner’s room!” (another one of my 2 year olds)

“Mom, I founded your cella phone, but it was in da toilet! I have a great idea: let’s use your blowing dryer!” (yet another one of my 2 year olds)

What NOT to do on Easter morning if you hope to make it to church by 9am:

2008-03-23T17:24:00.001-07:00

1. Do not hit the snooze button when your alarm goes off at 6:30 am

2. Do not line your children up at the top of the stairs and allow only one of them down at a time so as to video individual reactions to their Easter baskets

3. Do not engage in dispute with your twelve-year-old when he not-so-graciously points out that one of his gifts is designated "ages 5 and up"

4. Do not make each of your six children say "Thank you, Easter Bunny, bawk bawk!" to the video camera, particularly since this little "tradition" doesn't make sense to anybody born after 1975

5. Do not allow your children to eat any of their chocolate candy, lest you waste 10 minutes cleaning the smears off couches and another 15 cleaning smears off little faces.

6. Do not forget where you put the three little pairs of pink tights you bought the night before

7. Do not ask the bigger kids to help dress the little kids in their Easter outfits- the confusion over and resistance toward putting on the aforementioned tights makes the "help" not worth it.

8. Do not allow your toddlers to open the "Aqua Doodles" that the Easter Bunny brought them, or you will never pry them out of their little hands long enought to pull the Easter dresses over their heads

9. Do not waste 20 minutes parting and braiding and tying bows to three little heads of girl hair because it will be completely un-done in 10 minutes anyway

10. Do not insist on taking "just one" good picture of all your children once they are finally dressed in their Easter gear- you will all be crying before it's over

Mommy's a Rock Star!

2008-02-29T21:14:00.000-08:00

I am constantly trying to come up with new ways to impress my children. Pathetic, I know. But lately they have been bad for my ego:

Exhibit A: Carter, working on math homework, started to approach me with a question and then paused. “Do you need help?” I asked, anxious to show him my skills. (I did teach algebra at a local college, mind you. AND I passed calculus, so there!) “Uh, that’s okay. I think I’ll just ask Dad when he gets home from work.” “No, really,” I pushed. “I’m not busy. I can help you,” “Well, uh, no offense Mom, but I think this is more up Dad’s alley. He’s been to college.” EXCUSE ME? Oh, I’ve been to college, Buddy! I waddled around campus 9 months pregnant with you and took the very last final for my master’s degree a week after you popped out, which is a lot more than your daddy ever had to do!!! And you somehow think that seventh grade math is beyond me?!? He sheepishly consented to “let” me help him, but my ego was already beyond bruised.

Exhibit B: Taylor somehow learned about anorexia at school (?) and was asking questions, so I explained a little about the psychological reasons behind it (see- that master’s in counseling actually pays off once in a while!) I told her that a lot of fashion models are anorexic, and explained many of the physical dangers and then launched into a brief discussion of body dysmorphic disorder. She listened attentively and then said, “I get it. That is so sad that models are so messed up. I mean, a model would totally look at you and think that YOU are fat!” OUCH.

Exhibit C: The little kids, after spending the entire day with me, are so anxious to see a new face at the end of the day that they give Quinn a hero’s welcome when he walks in the door and I am pretty much invisible to them for the rest of the night. (which sometimes, admittedly, has its benefits.)

So, in a desperate attempt to save face, I figured out a way to impress my big two: I practice Guitar Hero songs while they are at school. I’ve been working on my repertoire for a while (unbeknownst to them) and the other day I casually joined in while they were having a rock fest. “I’ve never done this before,” I lied, “So don’t laugh at me.” “It’s okay, Mom. We won’t laugh. Moms never know how to play this game,” Taylor reassured me. And then I launched into “Message in a Bottle” (medium level), and got 97% of the notes. Their jaws were on the floor, so I walked away, leaving them wanting more. I overheard Carter say that he must get his natural guitar ability from me. CHA-CHING!

And I stumbled upon a trick that rendered my four tots speechless: I brought home some “Magic Growing Sea Creatures” from the Dollar Store and whipped them out one rainy afternoon. I told my mesmerized little audience, “I am going to put this little pill into the water and say “hocus pocus” and in 20 minutes it will magically turn into something cool!” I unveiled the sea creature- a killer whale- to my children’s glee and was thrilled when Tanner started running around, yelling, “Mommy is MAGIC! Holy Gosh- Mommy is MAGIC!” They begged me for more magic tricks, and I obliged with a few more sea creatures, and then told them that I must rest up my magic abilities for later. The look of admiration in their eyes was worth the entire dollar I spent on that one, and more!

I suppose that some day, later in life when my kids are grown, I won’t need to resort to trickery to impress them. I hope that they’ll look back and think I’m a rock star simply because I mothered them to the best of my ability. But for now, I will pathetically and unapologetically pull out all the stops (and tricks) to soothe my aching ego. (I just hope they don’t find out!)

"You Know You Have a Lot of Kids When..."

2008-02-22T07:19:00.000-08:00

Along the lines of "if we don't laugh about this stuff, it just might kill us!", some friends and I started this running list. We got a little carried away, and probably had way more fun with it than we should have! BTW, Mindy has six children ages 7 and under (yes, you read that right!) and Michelle has 5 children under the age of 9. So I went to the right pals on this one! They came up with all the funny ones. :) If you enjoy the list and have any to add, please leave it in a comment, and I'll be sure to put it in for everyone! Here we go:

You Know You Have A Lot of Kids When…

1. you need a mnemonic device to remember all of their names
2. you monitor the price of milk like the stock market
3. you go shopping with a third of your kids and people still say you have your hands full
4. your husband asks for a piece of gum or candy and you automatically unwrap it before handing it to him
5. you consider it a good month because you only had to go to the pediatrician’s office four times
6. you own more sippy cups than drinking glasses
7. your children refer to your family room as “the play room”, no matter how nicely you decorate it
8. your entire life revolves around naptime
9. all of your neighbors pull up lawn chairs and “watch the show” as you load everybody into the van to go to church
10. you find yourself at the store and look down to realize that you are wearing two different colored flip-flops, but move forward with your shopping anyways because it already took you an hour to leave the house
11. the cleaning of your car could be featured on the show “Dirty Jobs”
12. you find yourself envious of the octopus because, boy would it be great to have a few more sets of arms!
13. you never see the bottom of your hamper
14. your children have inadvertently called “911” so many times that the sheriff’s office recognizes your number and has actually threatened to fine you (true story!)
15. your slogan changes from “diamonds are a girl’s best friend” to “wipes are a mom’s best friend”
16. all of your vehicles are minivans, and they’re STILL not big enough
17. the combined ages of your children outnumber your IQ
18. you automatically cut up the pancakes for your adult houseguests
19. you walk around humming the “hot dog song” from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse… nonstop
20. you have more carseats than empty seats in your vehicle
21. you’ve been banned from O’Charleys and every other restaurant where “kids eat free.”
22. every time you go out to eat, the entire restaurant stops to stare in a mixture of curiosity and horror
23. going to the bathroom becomes a public event
24. the dishwasher, washing machine, and clothes dryer are running all of the time
25. 45% of your grocery bill always ends up in the garbage
26. you actually feel a little homicidal when somebody dares ring the bell or knock loudly during naptime
27. you spend a great amount of time “shush’ing” the people around you
28. you are asked, most everywhere you go, “ Wow- you do know what causes that, right?”
29. alternately, you are told, most everywhere you go, “Jeez, you must be either Catholic or Mormon.”
30. you and your pediatrician are on a first-name basis, and you can’t help but notice that you see more of him than your husband
31. your remote control and cordless phone are found in the oddest places… the dryer, the piano bench, the toilet…
32. your favorite movie becomes “Barbie as the Nutcracker”, and you know every line of the movie, including the dance moves (which end up being your only exercise workout for the day)
33. your family snarfs an entire loaf of bread in one sitting
34. the cleaning of your car could be featured on the show “Dirty Jobs”
35. your favorite daily get-away is going out to get the mail, but half-way through one of your kids runs out the door after you, yelling, “MOMMY, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!?”
36. the only time your house stays clean is between the hours of 11 p.m. and 6 a.m. (ie- “cleaning the house for the angels”)
37. you wonder if you should apply for “Supernanny”… just to get a break
38. there seems to be a new stain on the carpet daily (and nobody knows where it came from!)
39. your nail polish has been chipping away for four months, and you keep promising yourself, “I’ll paint my nails tomorrow when I have the time.”
40. you wake up in the morning during flu season and are grateful that only two of your children are covered in vomit
41. you could write a 5-page comparative analysis on the merits of each brand of diaper on the market
42. you find yourself being constantly argued over (“My mommy!” “No, my mommy!”) and wish you could be flattered, but instead are so sick of this particular argument that it’s all you can do to say, “I’m EVERYBODY’S Mommy!”
43. you go into a room and lock the door, and suddenly feel like you’re in the movie “Mission Impossible” as your little ones end up breaking in
44. you tell your kids to go into their rooms and please play quietly for one hour and, five minutes into it, they yell, “CAN WE COME OUT YET?!?”

45. strangers automatically assume that you run a daycare

Tanner-dotes

2008-02-21T08:35:00.000-08:00

Is there anything cuter than a 3-year-old? We can't get enough of Tanner, and lately he says the funniest things. I can't help but share a few Tanner anectdotes:

While driving by the park, Tanner says, "Mommy, can you please slow down! I want to see! Drive Adagio, okay?" (hmm... too much "Little Einsteins" perhaps?)

Tanner's favorite church song is "I am a Child of God." After finally convincing Bailey that the song is not "I am a Cheetoh of God", Tanner has pressed on in applying the song to most everything he sees. While playing in the backyard the other day, he picked up a ladybug and serenaded: "You are a lady bug of God..." He told me that I am a "grown up of God."

In a fit of excitement after seeing an ambulance, Tanner yells, "Holy Gosh! We've gotta tell Daddy about this!" (Holy Cow! Oh my Gosh!)

After receiving the bread portion of the sacrament in church, Tanner turns to me and conspiratorially says, "Maybe next time they'll have peanut butter and jelly."

We've been working on manners lately. After I told the kids, "That's enough! I haven't heard a single "please" from any of you," Tanner came running up to me. "Can I have a fruit snack, please? Hey, guess what? I said a single please!!!"

Completely out-of-the-blue, Tanner says, "Hey, Mom! I figured it out! Barney is a hippo!" When I suggested that Barney might be a dinosaur instead, Tanner said, "Good try, Mom. But Barney looks too silly to be a dinosaur."

Haircuts and Matching Dresses

2008-01-15T11:56:00.000-08:00

I cut the girls’ hair today. This is the first “real” cut for all of them, and really it was just a trim, but it felt monumental. I have these little snippets of each girl’s hair, taped together at the end, and I marvel at how different these three little moppets are, each having come out of my womb within 2 minutes of each other. But to look at them, you might not even know that they’re sisters. Sydney has dark eyes- practically black- and hair to match. She is tall and sturdy, and looks a lot like her older sister, Taylor. She has the most ridiculously long and luxuriant hair that I’ve ever seen on a two-year-old, and she wanted me to cut it “short, like Tanner’s” but I would rather cut off my arm. Riley is a wisp of a thing- tall and all elbows and knees and arms and legs. She’s so thin that she doesn’t have enough waist or hips to hold up her pants half the time. And all her black fuzzy hair has turned to dark blond. Her eyes are blue, “just wike Daddy’s.” Bailey… well, we’re not sure where she came by her genes. She’s a good three inches shorter at all times than both of her sisters, and she is petite but so strong, she should never be underestimated. There is power in those compact little muscles (and in that super-sized attitude), and she’ll pounce on you like a tiger if provoked. Her hair is a different shade of dark blond than Riley’s, and her eyes are hazel, “just wike Kelsey’s” (our super babysitter!).

Seriously, if you were to stick them in a room full of other girls and ask a stranger to pick out the triplets, I’m pretty sure that nobody would put them together. This is hilarious to me. Whenever we go out, I see people trying to do the math in their heads; me with all these kids, calculating who belongs with whom. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been told, “Oh, so you do daycare. Which one is yours?” I practically got into a fistfight with an employee at Bennigan’s (a restaurant with free kids’ meals on Tuesdays) because he kept insisting that the freebie special was only good for blood relatives. “They have to all be your own children to get the free meal,” he said over and over again. “They are all mine. ALL OF THEM ARE MINE! Seriously, I would not bring this many of somebody else’s children to a restaurant.” We got the free meals, but I’m pretty sure he never believed me. I really ought to go bring by their birth certificates.

Speaking of which, one of my neighbors also has six small children. (I like this- it makes me not the only freak show in town.) One day two daycare licensing specialists from the state showed up at her door, doing an impromptu “raid” because they’d had an anonymous tip that this woman was running an unlicensed daycare. Seriously. She had to unearth all their birth certificates to prove that the six children were indeed hers. After telling me this story, I lived in a dead panic until I could get to the birth certificate office and (finally) get official copies of the triplets’ birth certificates. Because the daycare cops would never in a million years believe me. Ever.

I’ve actually had people tell me I’m lying when I try to convince them that they are all mine and that they are, indeed, triplets. The Olan Mills photographer kept saying, “No, really. They’re cousins, right? This is an extended family photo shoot?” “No, really, I’m sure that would be fun, but this is an immediate family photo shoot. They really are all mine. Seriously.” “You’re lying!” she exclaimed, and had to sit down and fan herself. And that was BEFORE we started the chaos of trying to get a good picture.

So I dress them alike most of the time. And before you wonder if I’m limiting their sense of individuality and/or doing permanent damage to their psyche, let me assure you that my husband (the developmental psychologist) has passed off on this dressing strategy. But, to be honest, not because it’s good for their mental health, but instead because it’s good for OUR mental health. It’s just plain easier to have three of everything. And, mainly, it’s a lot easier to keep track of them when they look the same. (ie- when we are at the park, I’m just looking for three hot pink shirts and three flowered pants.) It’s a safety thing, which is exactly what I told a fellow soccer mom who side-lined me at practice one day to gently scold me for dressing them the same. Apparently she’d seen a show about this on PBS. I swallowed my initial response (“MYOB, granola lady!!! YOU try head-counting four toddlers at the same time, and then we’ll talk!!!”) and meekly promised to do better. And then I stopped at Target on the way home and bought 2 more matching outfits AND matching shoes, just to be really passive-aggressive.

I can dress them alike for as long as they’ll let me, but the fact remains: they are each very much their own person, and I love that about them.

Play-a-Rama

2008-01-08T12:22:00.000-08:00

So we have a playhouse in the middle of our family room. Very chic, I know. I am quite sure that the word will spread and soon every fashionable home will follow suit. Playhouses will be the piece de resistance in the Pottery Barn catalogs.

I suppose this new addition to our décor is very fitting since my little ones call our family “the play room.” Ironic, since we have an actual play room, but it is upstairs and they have jointly decided to abscond upon what should be a nice family room instead. So, what the heck? No amount of classy cubby holes and hip fabric boxes can conceal the fact that my family room, is indeed, a place of play.

This playhouse was a gift from Santa, who spent months searching out the best deals and reading parent toy reviews. He is very savvy, our Santa. The shrieks of delight were heard throughout the neighborhood when the little ones finally saw their fully-constructed playhouse. Not, however, on Christmas day because… unbeknownst to Santa’s elves, this playhouse was a 5 hour construction job. With two people, that is. Guess we shoulda opened up the box and looked at the instructions before Christmas Eve. Luckily for us, the “babies” are still just two, so they were perfectly happy with the miniature kitchen and laundry center that Santa also wisely brought. (Those alone took Quinn 5 hours to put together! And he used to work construction in college!)

A special “thank you” shout-out goes to Uncle Caleb, who helped Quinn put this wretched thing together without complaining even once! (And it really did take 5 hours.) I don’t suppose he knew that his Christmas visit to Florida was going to include this, but he was the best of sports!

So, as if visiting a house full of children and chaos was not enough, we can now offer all of our houseguests unlimited play inside our newly-constructed playhouse, conveniently located in our family/play room. Come one, come all!

Potty Humor

2007-11-09T10:33:00.000-08:00

(copy of a mass email I sent out on November 8, 2007)

Hello! I am smack dab in the middle of hades (ie- potty training) and I have decided that if I can't find the humor in it, then it WILL kill me. So, for those of you who keep asking what I'm up to lately... here it is: I pretty much spend all day long with four naked toddlers, either trying to prevent accidents or alternately cleaning them up because I didn't get there fast enough. During those in-between moments, I am trying to keep the kids from pulling all the toilet paper off the tube (they love how it zings in the air!), or, even worse, from putting the whole roll in the toilet. And of course I spend much of the day trying to keep them out of the sink (they flooded the downstairs bathroom a few weeks ago). I HATE POTTY TRAINING!!!!

As for progress: Tanner is totally potty trained, Sydney is almost there, Bailey is getting there, and Riley is nowhere near (and has absolutely no interest!)

As far as underwear goes: Tanner will only wear Thomas the Train, Cars, or Diego undies. Luckily, we are well-stocked. Sydney has a penchant for wearing Taylor's underwear, and therefore has a perpetual crack problem. Riley likes to put on her big girl undies by herself and is so skinny that she usually sticks both legs into one hole and ends up wearing them around her waist. And Bailey- well, let's just say that she prefers to not wear anything at all.

The up-side of all this mess is that I often overhear some funny "potty humor":

Yesterday Bailey did so great that I told her "you are almost potty-trained!" When Carter got home from school, she ran up to him (naked from the waist down, of course) and said, "Carter, I am a potty train!!!!" (which sent all the other kids into making train noises.)

Riley, for the first time, actually had a successful visit to the potty upon which she said, "Oh, I better go tell my guys that I went pee pee in the potty. Hey everybody! I go'ed pee pee in da potty!"

Tanner, trying to encourage Bailey, said,"Oh Bailey! Very good work. That is such pretty pee pee. Good job!"

All four of the kids will shoo everybody away from the bathroom when it is their turn and say, "Go away guys. I need my private-cy."

So, you can probably tell that right now I have no life! Thanks for letting me share, and pardon the crude nature of this message! Hope your days revolve a little less around the bathroom than mine do!

Best Witches and Great Pumpkins

2007-11-01T11:05:00.000-07:00

Halloween was a much-anticipated and joyful event at our house. (Free candy AND dressing up- the kids were in heaven!) In fact, we are still "playing twick or tweet" which involves each of the little ones finding a bag or bucket of some sort and knocking on all the doors in our house yelling "twick or tweet" while Tanner runs from door to door and pretends to give them candy. Then they MUST say thank you (or, in Bailey's case "Happy Birthday Halloween!") or Tanner will take the pretend candy away.

The girls were "fairy princess witches" (as Sydney called it) or "the three little hags" (as Quinn preferred.) Tanner was the Chick-Fil-A cow, complete with an "eat more chiken" sign. (Carter's idea.) Taylor was Hannah Montana for one of her many parties, and a "Vampire Princess of Darkness" for some of the others. Carter, sadly, decided that he was too old to dress up and then changed his mind last minute and used my make-up to write all over his face and run around with friends to get candy. (But no photos, of course!)

We had lots of fun parties, including the "Trunk or Treat" at church, and a great play group party at my neighbor's. I think Stacy is the only soul brave enough to invite all four of my toddlers to her house for a play group, let alone a play group Halloween party, but the kids were thrilled! They put on their costumes and had treats and painted pumpkins over there. (Sydney still tells me "We can only paint on paper... or pumpkins." )

With the help of our good friends, the Ross family, we took the little kids all around the neighborhood to trick-or-treat. Once she figured out how it worked, Sydney could not go fast enough to each house, and dragged poor Shirlene behind her! She was on a mission to get as much candy as she could!

And, of course, we made a visit to the pumpkin patch (to buy more pumpkins to paint on- ha ha) with Jared and Carolyn and their boys. It has been such a busy and great month, with a visit as well from Diane and Grandma Roskelley! (I only hope that when I am in my 90's, I get around half as well as "Nana Kelley"!) We had such a great time with everyone who came, and the visits meant so much to us!

So now we head towards Thanksgiving and Christmas... yaay! The only problem is that my little ones do not understand that Halloween is the only holiday you really dress up for. Tanner keeps asking me what he should be for Thanksgiving! I said, "Thankful." His response: "That's too hard. How about I be a Power Ranger?" Can't wait to see what he'll be for Christmas!

My Train Wreck of a Blog

2007-08-15T15:38:00.000-07:00

This was my husband’s response when I told him I was starting a blog: “A blog! Wow… um... do you think anybody’s going to want to read it?”

Bless his heart, he didn’t mean to be insulting. (If you know my husband, who is a ridiculously nice guy, you will realize that his question was innocuous.) He just couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why anybody would want to read about the daily exploits of a frazzled mom of multiples plus. So I pointed out that everybody in America LOVES the show “Jon and Kate Plus Eight”, and that this is pretty much what we are, minus two.

He still didn’t get it. (Frankly, he can’t stand to watch that show. It hits a little too close to home, he says.) So I told him to think about a train wreck. No matter how horrifying and gruesome, people can’t help but turn their heads and look.

And me, with my psychologist husband, my preteen, my drama queen, and 4 two-year-olds, well… we are quite often a train wreck. And maybe the wreckage will occasionally amuse somebody.

But who am I kidding? I will have a readership of two (my best friend and maybe my sister, although she’s about to have a baby so I might even lose her for a while) and, honestly, I’m okay with that. If I can make somebody- anybody- snicker for a moment over the insanity of my life, then it’s all good.