Saturday, December 5, 2015

The Force is Strong

Spain is obsessed with Star Wars. And I do mean "obsessed". It doesn't matter that he's never seen Star Wars. To be honest, all his Star Wars knowledge comes from Angry Birds, LEGO and Jeffrey Brown books.

Last night Spain strapped on a Rockband guitar, and treated me to an impromptu concert.

"When I talk to you, you guys answer by yelling "YEEAAAHH!" or "WHOOOO", okay?"


"Who's ready for a song??!!"

"Yeeeeaaahh. Whhooooo."


"Yeah! Whoo!"

"Okay. Now I can hear you! *Starts humming a ballad*
I'm Darth Vader. 
I will control you.
You are under my contr-ol"

*I've realized that I constantly trail off sentences. It gives me time to figure out whether or not I should be afraid.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Diary Of A Mean Mom

Dear Diary,
I awoke this morning with a new sense of purpose. I have confiscated the LEGOs. The anguished wails of inconsolable children fill the living space. Righteous confidence and glee fill my being. I now have the power to build a brick fortress while plotting ways to siphon more joy out of the spawn!!

Friday, October 23, 2015

Real Conversations

***After finishing the bedtime ritual... Twice***

Me: Spain. Go. To. Bed.

Spain: Don't you mean "go play"?

***After yelling "INSIDE VOICES" at the oldest two***

Alex: Sometimes mama is like the hulk.

Spain: I love the Hulk!!!!!

***Introducing himself to new people***

Spain: My name is  Secret Agent Spy Darth Vader Batman

***While on the phone with the insurance company***

Alex: Chester* is like the last of his kind. A long time ago there were lots of Chesters, but then they started getting recalled. And now, I think Chester is the last one.

Spain: Ooh!

*Chester is our 2009 Toyota Corolla. 

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Dear children,

There seems to be some confusion about a specific item pertaining to our kitchen policy. I realize that some of you are new and still learning the ropes, while others have been with us for years. At no time have we encouraged toys, books, or bedding to be brought into the kitchen. The presence of these items in the kitchen is not just a safety matter, it makes me want to lose the small amount of sanity I have left.
I understand sometimes you are in your ninja/superhero/Darth Vader outfit that is not complete without an inappropriately dragging cape. However I have spoken with the Ninja Council/Justice League/Emperor, and they have approved the shorter non-dragging capes for kitchen usage.

In short; do not bring toys, books, blankets, pillows, or stuffed animals into the kitchen.


Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Stranded... The Ongoing Saga

Dear Mostly Bald One.
I am so glad that you are feeling better. It is wonderful to see you back to your adventurous self again. I just want to remind you, that I am always willing to accept your help. There is no need to screech at me in monkey if you want to vacuum.



I was woken up last night, not by the Mostly Bald One, but by the Tall Redheaded one because he wanted ideas to fall asleep. I've left our copy of the Merriam-Webster unabridged dictionary next to his bed.

Monday, October 5, 2015

Stranded. Tales from an Outnumbered Mother

I started the day with high hopes of retaining the crews' tentative loyalty. Since the fastest way to my heart is with food, I decided that was a good starting point.
I managed to find enough items in our provisions to make a batch of pancakes for the crew. Initially, the Curly Haired One was not impressed. He complained loudly about the lack of blueberries and granola available. His complaints soon turned to concern over the shape of the promised pancakes. Once he was able to convince me that they should all be circles, and have mango preserves smeared on top, harmony returned to our little camp.
After breakfast the Curly Haired One buried his face into my shoulder and sang "jingle bells". When I expressed confusion over the ritual, he explained that he was "singing in to me".

My spirits were lightened.

The Mostly Bald One continues to improve. As evidence by the many dancing parties he has tried to start. Sadly none of the attempts have resulted in a full out dance party.
A well-timed humanitarian package arrived in the afternoon. A sense of peace enveloped our little camp for a few brief hours. Long enough for us to band together as a family, instead of feuding like rival mafia dons.

Bedtime continues to be difficult. Tonight it was the Tall Redheaded One that tried to prolong the inevitable. The Mostly Bald One fell asleep while I cleared away the remnants of dinner. I tried to immortalize the moment, but as soon as I had photographic evidence, he woke up. The Tall Redheaded One tried to start a conversation about abstract theories, and I snapped. In a fit of exhaustion I announced that anyone not asleep would be eating quinoa for dinner the next day.

  Tomorrow's dinner is quinoa.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Stranded. Tales from an Outnumbered Mother

Though I am recovering, the Mostly Bald One is still plagued by this foreign virus. I spend hours each night helping him find enough comfort so he can sleep. My eyes are gritty from sleep deprecation, and I find myself wishing I could sleep while standing- Without risk of bodily harm.

Things between the Tall Redheaded One and the Curly Haired One are slowly escalating. Tonight the Curly Haired One focused on preventing the Tall Redheaded One from sleeping. For hours, I listened as the Curly Haired One kept up a constant barrage of jokes, songs, folklore, epic poems, personal philosophy and scientific fact, all designed to keep the Tall Redheaded One from sleeping.
During a particularly dry monologue, I tried to help Tall Redheaded One sneak into a deserted area of our camp to find some blessed peace. Unfortunately the Tall Redheaded One did not approve of abandoning his spot in the camp and complained loudly for quite some time.

I had hoped that we could search for another diversion, but the Mostly Bald One's illness is keeping us close to camp. 


I woke this morning to a barrage of questions. The Curly Haired One and Tall Redheaded One presented a united front as they requested the resources needed to study small animated creatures. I granted permission, and tried to sink back into the sweet embrace of sleep, when the Mostly Bald one bolted up from a sound sleep and launched an attack upon my person. The struggle was fierce, but short lived. A loud THUD came from the other side of the camp and diverted the Mostly Bald One's attention, allowing me to escape with my eyes intact.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Stranded. True Tales from an Outnumbered Mother

It's been three days, since the crew and I were stranded, separated from the Mysterious Captain we all adore. Whatever respiratory disease tried to take over my body seems to have given up. If I had expected the crew to rejoice over my improving health... Well, we can safely assume that was a side effect of my impaired status.
I suspect the crew may be planing a coup. 
The Curly Haired One shrieks in code throughout the day, alternatively irritating and amusing the Tall Redheaded One. They seem to be struggling to find the balance of power between them. 
The Small Mostly Bald One seems to be torn between allegiances. 

I discovered that allowing the Curly Haired One and Tall Redheaded One to watch a documentary on small pocket creatures seems to sate feelings of unrest. I know this is only a temporary solution to the problem though.

I can only pray that the disease retreats quickly, and I can regain the allegiance of the crew before things become unspeakable.


Our supply of fresh provisions was running low. I suggested a small foraging expedition to help replenish our stores. I also hoped that the expedition would serve as a distraction over the bid for power that is looming closer by the hour.
The Curly Haired One expressed dismay, horror and outrage over most aspects of the outing. He stated that the craft was not correct multiple times. He petitioned for a craft decorated with bright colors and wheels, in place of the simple utilitarian craft we possessed.  Shortly after that, he expressed bitter disappointment over the produce we were able to procure. At one point, he became adamant in his desire to have sweetbread.
We made it back to camp safely, where I plied the Curly Haired One with fresh bananas.
If I were not in charge of this motley crew, I would be tempted to mutiny myself.

Better Late Than Never

I've never been on a blind date, but I imagine it's kind of like visiting a new church. We've been looking for a new church since our move last year. Even though we haven't found the one for us yet, we've met some wonderful people along the way.
At a homeschool gathering another mom recommended a church in passing, and Sweet Husband and I decided to try visiting it. On Sunday morning we double checked the service times, fed the crew to avoid any unfortunate incidents, and set off on our adventure.
We ended up taking the wrong exit, and arrived at the church eight minutes after the posted service time. As we walked into the sanctuary I noticed with some surprise that everything was already in full swing.

This is a very punctual church. I thought to myself. Instead of the usual worship service and sermon, the church had a visiting Youth With A Mission group come speak about their recent time in Nepal. When the group finished speaking about thirty minutes later the pastor concluded the services. Sweet Husband and I exchanged puzzled glances. Alex and Spain joined us after the Sunday School class was over "Mama, Sunday school started at 9 o'clock. We were so late." Alex whispered.
9 o'clock?! The website definitely said 10.

Several people came up to us after the service and welcomed us to the church. A few asked us how we heard about the church, and I replied that I found it online while looking for AWANA programs in the area. The church members looked so confused at my answer "We don't have an AWANA program here though..." they would respond.
I had found the church through the AWANA website, but I figured the AWANA website might just be due for an update.

As we walked toward our vehicle I thought about the things that weren't matching up. I had enjoyed the visit, but there was something off. I pulled the church bulletin out of the diaper bag and looked over it. There was no name on the front of the bulletin, but on the inside cover in small letters I found the church name.

We were at the wrong church.
We were an HOUR late to the church service we attended. Because our GPS is convinced that the church we were trying to attend and the church we actually attended are the same.

They aren't. They're just in the same zipcode.

It's Not Vermont.....

There's nothing quite as sad as a sick baby. It just breaks your heart to look at them.
Some stomach bug was making the rounds, and we were lucky enough to bring it home with us.
Luke was miserable.

Luckily Sweet Husband was home, so while I nursed Luke 22/7, he got to spend the remaining 2/7 changing diapers.

On day three, Luke was feeling good enough to let Alex hold him while I stuffed my face with whatever we were having for dinner that night. 
All of a sudden, from the couch Alex starts screeching "VERMONT! VERMONT! VERMONT!".

I stared at the back of Alex's head bouncing up and down on the couch. Trying to figure out what sparked his sudden interest in this particular state.... Other than maple syrup, of course.

Before I could ask, Alex spun around, panic written over his face "Luke vermonted on me!"


They're Cute..... And Wiley.

Bedtime rituals are taken pretty seriously in our house. They've slowly evolved over the years into what we currently have.

-Wheel of Fortune (yes, we're that family)
-Tea and snack
-Teeth brushing
-Into bed

The goal is to have Spain in bed at 8, so we tend to cut out story time if the boys are dragging their feet.

One night, Spain was running on his own time zone. It was ten minutes to 8, and Spain was running around the couch, clad only in his underwear and waving his pajamas like flags. Sweet husband announced "no story tonight.". Spain immediately bounded to Sweet Husband and thrust his pajamas at him "Papa, I just need help" he explained. Sweet Husband helped Spain into his pajamas, and reminded him that it was almost bedtime. Spain looked up with angelic big green eyes and his halo of curls, and in a soft sweet voice said "Please papa. Just one story?"

Sweet Husband relented. "One page." he told Spain. "Go pick out a book, and I'll read one page to you."

Spain sped off to pick out his promised story, and returned almost immediately holding our copy of Webster's Unabridged Dictionary.

Monday, June 29, 2015

How To Tie A Tie: A Gentleman's Guide To Getting Dressed - Book Review

I grew up blissfully unaware about the rules to suit wearing. I had no idea there were guidelines regarding how to button a suit jacket, or that you were supposed to snip visible tags off the jacket before wearing it. Now that I have become a mom to three boys, I feel like I should have a better grasp on the dos and don'ts of suit wearing.

My favorite thing about this book is actually the cover. The covers feels just like a fabulous textured striped tie. I actually had a little trouble getting a chance to read this book, because the boys all wanted a little quality time with it. Luke loved the texture and would carry it around... Not unlike his favorite toy. Spain loved all the pictures... And there are a lot of pictures in this book. Alex enjoyed studying the instructions for the various knots.

As you would expect from the title, the majority of the book is dedicated to learning how to tie various knots. There are over 70 pages filled with step-by-step instructions (and accompanying pictures), to help you master the art of tie wearing. There are instructions for three different pocket square folds and very quick introduction to color wheels and seasonally appropriate fabric.
Unfortunately I felt like this book fell flat for anything other than tie tying instructionals. Jackets, pants and vests get hardly more than a passing mention. Sadly, the button rule is not mentioned anywhere in the book. 
On the bright side, if you can pull off the Trinity knot, maybe the intricate design will pull attention away from the bottom button on your suit jacket. 

More info on this book can be found at How To Tie A Tie by Potter Style.

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review.

Friday, May 1, 2015

Luke's birth

Alex was born prematurely and spent twenty three agonizing days in the NICU.
Spain was born prematurely and spent one exhausting week in the NICU.

I spent a lot of time praying that Luke would be full term. I was blessed to have people praying with me, not only for a full term baby, but also for my peace of mind. This was on ongoing test. I spent the first half of my pregnancy wondering if my teeth would survive the morning sickness that was plaguing me. I was  in and out of the ER multiple times for IV fluid, because nothing stayed down. Then just as morning sickness was tolerable, I started to have contractions. My midwife put me on pelvic rest, and my OB gave me a check list of when to come in to the labor & delivery ward. My birth team was amazing. I had a wonderful OB at the hospital with the NICU I wanted to use, and a midwifery team for the hope of a planned homebirth.
My mom arranged to come out when we reached 36 weeks. The goal was to reach at least 37 weeks- officially full term and Texas-legal for homebirth. I was ecstatic to watch as I got closer and closer to my "due date".  While I was thrilled to grow bigger and spend another day pregnant, I was surprised by how many times I had tell people that I was thrilled to STILL be pregnant. I certainly wasn't prepared for the onslaught of pressure to have a baby once I hit 40 weeks. I spent a lot of time praying about our next step. My midwife, who had assured me wasn't concerned about "overdue" babies, began pressuring me to try natural induction techniques. My OB scheduled my induction.
At 42 weeks gestation, I had a biophysical done, and was given the green light to continue being pregnant by my midwife.

I spent the last day of April, cranky and irritable. As soon as Sweet Husband got home from work my mom sent us on a date. It was her very nice way of saying I was driving everyone else crazy. I knew I was being irrational and emotional, but I couldn't help myself. I felt destined to be pregnant forever. Because of Luke's position, my left leg was in a state of constant swelling and occasional numbness. Everyone was keeping an eye on me for Pre-e. Funnily enough, I remember the agony of the low-carb diet another midwife recommended I follow during the last few weeks, more than the joint pain. All I wanted was a sandwich.

I woke up the next morning at 4 a.m weirdly energized. I did the only sane thing I could think of. I read random articles online. My back was a little achy, but after months of prodominal labor, I didn't want to get excited. After about an hour, the back pain was getting more intense. I decide to stand in a hot shower and see if the contractions would stop before waking Sweet Husband up. I stood in the shower through several contractions. I was focused on breathing through each contraction while the rest of the household slept. Finally I shut off the water and dragged myself out of the bathroom to wake Sweet Husband up.
Sweet Husband jumped into action. He woke up my mom, and inflated the swimming pool, we bought to use as a birthing tub. My mom applied counter pressure to my aching back as I tried to get a hold of the midwife. After getting the midwife's voicemail message three times, and leaving one passive-aggressive message that went along the lines of "I'm having a baby today,  I don't know what your plans are" I called the student midwife. The student midwife gave me some words of encouragement as I vocalized through a contraction, before promising to get a hold of the midwife for me. The midwife called a few minutes later, and promised to head right over.

I desperately wanted to sink into a hot pool of water. But the inflated swimming pool was dry. I did a half-growl half-whine plea for Sweet Husband to fill up the swimming pool, while I draped myself over my exercise ball and rocked through a few more contractions.

As soon as there was enough water to cover my thighs, I got into the swimming pool. Sweet Husband mistook this as a signal to turn the water off. I rocked through another contraction and made a mental note to ask for more water when he came back into the room. I rocked through contractions and tried to to angle myself in the pool so the water covered the parts on my lower back that ached for hydo-help. Before long I felt a subtle shift, and knew it was time to push. I draped myself over the edge of the pool and moaned for Sweet Husband. I could see him working in the kitchen, but he didn't acknowledge me, so I called him again. I was swept up into a another contraction and managed to yell his name a little more forcefully.

"Just a minute. I'm making breakfast." he answered.

At this point, I lost whatever semblance of zen I may have possessed.

"I am pushing this baby out now." I growled "If you want to catch get over here, because I. AM. NOT. WAITING!" Sweet Husband hurried into the room and crouched next to the tub.
"I need more water." I moaned. My mom held up a glass of water and forced a straw between my lips. I took a sip, then clarified "In the pool. I need more water in the pool." Another contraction took over, then another, then another. I could feel his head slowly start to crown. Sweet Husband climbed into the pool next to me, assuming his catching position behind me. I breathed through another contraction. I couldn't believe how long the birth was taking. The other two had practically flown out. His head finally slid out. I took another drink from the glass my mom held.
This is where the inner dialogue took over.

I quit. I'll finish pushing this baby out later. I just need a break. I can't quit. I have a head outside my body. I won't be able to sit down... Or use the bathroom. Please don't let me poop during labor. Please don't let me poop during labor. I'm okay. I'm okay. Let's finish this.

Another contraction and I felt his one of his shoulders slip out. Almost done. We're almost done. The next contraction hit and I felt, my water break as his other shoulder slid out. Then it was over.
He was out.

Safely cradled in Sweet Husband's arms.

My mom directed Sweet Husband in taking the caul sac off of baby Luke while I took a few moments to catch my breath. Being cautious of the cord Sweet Husband and my mom helped me into a seated position, where I could recline against the edge of the swimming pool, then handed me baby Luke.
The sweet boy who waited until there was no doubt that he was full term.

One month after my estimated due date, baby Luke was born.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

The Bitersweet Milestone

Dear May,
There's no hurry for you to get here. I need to snuggle with my baby just a little bit longer. His infancy slipped away while I was distracted. I know I'm living on borrowed time. Soon he'll be popping locks, denouncing crazy mathematical ideas like multiplication, trying to hone his secret super hero powers, and making me blush as I try to explain basic human biological functions in a way that he can understand without laughing. The majority of this will happen while I'm doing something trivial, like making dinner.

I know I'm going to make lots of alcoholic references in his honor over the next four decades. I'm going to wish him back to infancy more times than I'll be able to count. I know I'll wish him to adulthood a few times too. I'll spend a lot of time second guessing decisions about his care. I'll pray that he doesn't feel lost in the shadows of his brothers.
I know even when I'm bursting with pride and happiness with his accomplishments, I'll still feel a pang of wistfulness for his babyhood.

So May, feel free to take the scenic route. Stop by the beach. Take the Hollywood tour. I hear Legoland is beautiful this time of year. Just please, take your time coming to our house. I'll be cuddling this baby and savoring the last few hours we have left together, before he turns one.