When we had to move in with my MIL, a friend fostered our dog for what turned out to be 18mo. That’s pretty freakin’ awesome, if you ask me. So when I heard that another friend was having similar trouble with her dog, I offered to foster him for her. Paying it forward kind of thing.

Well after careful consideration and some detail wrangling on both our parts, Mr. Jack came to stay with us yesterday. He’s a Jack Russel Terrier and he’s very, very sweet. He’s not quite 2yo and is only about half housebroken >_<. The kids adore him, Freyjah likes him and the cats are still not speaking to me. Dh is only speaking to me because we share a bed .

So now the head count reads: 1 husband, 2 girls, 1 boy, 2 cats, 2 dogs, a rabbit and a partridge in a pear tree.

I have to say that Jack is the first dog I’ve ever cared for that is constantly trying to drink my coffee. The boy has a death wish!

Ethan was a stocky, rosy-cheeked little guy, with gobs of curly brown hair, twinkling brown eyes and a great, big smile that almost never left his face.  He had chubby hands, fat little feet and eight perfect little teeth.  He was a Holy Terror.  He loved to climb on, well, anything.  As the youngest, and the only boy at that, his was the privileged position of “The Baby”.  The Baby was doted on by everyone, especially his sisters and it is very likely that his complete lack of fear came from his general sense of security in his surroundings.

Abigail was a tiny little whiplash of a girl.  She had straight blond hair, cut short on one side and left in a bob on the other (the result of Momma trying to fix her attempt at cutting her own hair).  The affect was pixie-like, in every way.  Not only was she a pretty little thing, but she was spunky and mischievous.  Truly, had the haircut been carefully thought out it couldn’t have suited her personality better.  She was very small for her age, but perfectly proportioned and, like her brother, never stopped moving.  Flamboyant and passionate, her pink smile easy to find and her brown eyes a total give-away to what she was thinking, Abigail was a force of nature compacted into a tiny, bird-like little package.   She could be counted upon to shout most of the the things she said and she was Exhausting.

Unbeknown to Momma, the two of these children had devised a plan to drive all semblance of sanity from her before her 31st birthday.  They were succeeding.

There came a day in February when it was unseasonably warm.  It seemed the first vestiges of spring were making themselves known and Momma decided to take full advantage of the lovely weather.  It had come at a perfect time as Momma was planning a dinner party the next evening and wanted to clean the house.  She opened every window in the house, including the great bay windows in the living room and in her bedroom, the former being on the first floor and the latter, on the second.  Having only purchased the house a little more than a month previously, she’d never had the opportunity to relish the free-flowing breezes afforded by the big windows.  Momma adored sunlight and a cross-breeze will find no comparison for freshening up a house.

The house wasn’t a big one but it was quite full as it housed five people, two cats, a dog and a rabbit.  One the first floor one would come in through the front door into the living room, adjacent to which was a half bath. Continuing towards the back of the house, one would find the kitchen which had a nice open floor-plan.  Off the kitchen was the addition.  Originally it had been the back porch but Momma was thoroughly grateful the previous owner had seen fit to have it made into a dining room.  At the back of the kitchen was the staircase that led up to the 2nd floor.  Momma was spending a great deal of time at the top of it on this day, as one of the big projects she was working on was the laundry and her washer/dryer combo was at the top of the stairs.  At the front of the house were the children’s rooms, across from the steps the full bath and at the back of the house, above the kitchen, was her bedroom which seconded as Daddy’s office.  The beloved bay windows in the room overlooked the roof of the dining room and the back-yard.

It was while Momma was folding what felt like the 10th load of laundry that day that Abigail asked, ever so sweetly, if she could please play games on Daddy’s computer.  Permission was granted, so long as Abigail kept the door closed as Ethan liked to pull things like the router and modem off of the desk and that wreaked havoc with the network which, in turn, drove Daddy bonkers.  Not only that the two of them together in that room would spell disaster for it’s relative neatness in a matter of minutes and Momma had enough to do without that added complication.

Shortly after granting permission for Abigail to use her room, Momma was distracted by Ethan, who had woken from his nap.  After changing him and turning him loose, she returned to folding the laundry while chatting with a friend on the phone.  As she was keeping an ear out for her son’s doings, she noticed when he found the cat-dish and could hear him busily spreading it’s contents across the table.  She chose this moment to use the bathroom as, while he was surely making a mess, she knew where he was and what he was doing and felt it was a safe time to do so.  The friend on the phone was an old friend and wouldn’t mind anyway.  Momma had lots of practice using the bathroom in under two minutes because really, toddlers can accomplish a lot when unsupervised, in that amount of time.

So it was with some annoyance that she answered the door to the shouting of Abigail, having scarcely concluded her business, maybe a minute and a half later.  As she was on the phone, it didn’t register immediately that Abby wasn’t just shouting as usual, but was actually near hysterics.  Momma ripped the door open and rather rudely demanded “Abigail, what on earth is your problem?” and glanced towards her open bedroom door, thinking to reprimand her for leaving it open- and for a split second, time stopped.

There, on the wrong side of the window stood her son, some 15ft off the ground, banging on the screen and, Momma thought, crying.  Abigail’s shrieks belatedly registered as panic and the only words Momma made out were “My baby brother fell out the window!”.

Allow us to pause and explain that Momma’s bed was located under the previously mentioned bay window.  The window’s panes slid open towards the center and the two outer panes had separate screens.  It appeared as though The Baby had pushed the screen out on one side, climbed out the window (or fell, according to Abby) and had simply walked across the roof to the other side.

In the moment, though, none of this really registered in Momma’s mind.  She shrieked “Oh My God!” and was out the window, across the roof and back in with her laughing son before she even had time to think about it.  In a daze, she set her son on the floor, turned, firmly shut and locked the window and weakly sat on the bed. Ethan pointed to the window and chattered away, laughing and squealing as he did so.  Abigail sobbed that she was sorry she left the door open (thought Momma could have sworn it was shut when she went into the bathroom).

Momma was horrified.  She had instructed that the door remained closed out of concern for the well being of her husband’s equipment.  The bay windows never even occurred to her as she’d never had cause to open them before.  She marveled a moment at how Mr. Stubby Legs had managed to get up the stairs, onto the bed and out the bloody window in the time it took her to pee before realizing that she’d thrown the phone across the room, shrieking like a banshee.

Hands shaking, she found it, unharmed and was surprised to find her friend still waiting on the other line.  Herding her son and her daughter out of the room (and locking the door behind her) she related her tale and told her friend, ”I need a drink”.

This is the story of how my weekend began.  This happened Thursday afternoon, before Abigail came down with a stomach bug that kept her up all night and was passed around my entire family, with my poor husband finally coming down with it today.  I actually started writing this yesterday!

How was YOUR weekend?

There are so many things I could say that are better about owning our own home. Today I want to focus on my kids.

I can put up with a lot of bullshit and so can my husband. Watching my children suffer, though, sucks monkey balls. Seeing the changes in their attitudes and behavior in just five days has really amazed me.

Morgan was upset, the first night, and gets a little misty eyed still at bedtime, but overall, she just seems less angsty. She doesn’t have any real reason to miss Grammy as we’ve seen her ever day since our move (she lives around the corner). She does, of course, have cause to miss Grammy’s constant undermining of our parenting which, for Morgan, often translated to snacks in bed, going to bed far later than I wanted her to, etc, etc. Morgan sees this as a terrible loss, of course, but I’m so relieved!

Abigail is just plain happy. At night she talks about how awesome she thinks it is that she doesn’t have to worry about waking up Ethan. During the day she has more room, more freedom and I don’t have to lock her or her brother up in my room or hers all day for fear of upsetting Grammy. So far, she’s stuck to the “new rules” fairly well.

Ethan is generally a happy little guy anyway. He’s the only one of kids who never got the stink eye from Grammy and she had yet to start blaming him for every little thing, either. He definitely likes having the run of the whole house, though. OH it is such a relief to be able to let him do that! The doors I don’t want him opening stay closed. I don’t put things that can kill him at a level he can reach (I don’t even own any bug spray!) and if he does happen to get into toilet paper or something, I can be annoyed without also being afraid of the long-term consequences.

It has been rejuvinating to enjoy my children and not constantly have to be on them about this or that stupid little detail. I mean, people have different priorities and I get that. I just don’t care about some of the things that really seem to bother other people. It’s a real relief to be able to mother as I see fit without being judged or undermined.

The kids have always gotten along fairly well but I’ve seen a definite increase in interest in actually playing rather than watching tv. They spent so much time being asked to go up to their room before that they often had nothing else they could really do. Ethan has really gotten into being included in their playtime, too. Yesterday he and Abigail played together for almost two hours. He mimics almost everything she does, it’s adorable! He has also mastered the stairs well enough that I still haven’t put up a gate for him. He loves the freedom.

I’m really looking forward to warmer weather so that they can discover just what having a backyard means for them.

Overall, I think we’re settling in nicely. I’ve been doing load after load of laundry. Incidentally, Abigail has entirely too many clothes. Just sayin’.

Our dining set supposedly shipped yesterday so hopefully we’ll have a table soon. I’m not sure when we’re getting a couch but for now, the kids are loving all the open space. I have a “to do” list for the house as long as my arm, though. A similar list keeps growing but is “stuff to buy” for the house. I need about sixteen bookshelves…

Oh and this weekend, Freyjah is coming home!!!  I’ve missed her so much!  Freyjah is our dog.  She’s a German Shepherd/Akita cross and she’s just about the best dog on the planet.

See? Here she is having suffered being put down for a "nap" at the hands of a 4yo.

We are so excited she is coming home.  I feel like part of our family has been missing for 18mo and, well, that’s because she has!

So, to wrap it all up: We moved, it’s awesome, never having roommates again (privacy is precious) and our Freyjah is coming home!

Happy New Year, y’all!

I’m very, very happy about this but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t wake up this morning freaking out.  Oh my goodness I have SO much to do!  Have you ever tried to move when 90% of the packing/cleaning was entirely on you and oh, by the way, all three of your 6yr and under children are with you and you have no help? *raises hand*  That’s me!  So yeah, I’m a little overwhelmed.  But that is ok you know why?

Because I’m moving on Saturday!!!!!  Yesterday I spent the day hanging curtains and doing laundry in MY house.  The kids are getting used to it, I even had Ethan nap in his own room.  I’m pleased with the curtains!  I was going to post pictures but instead I’m going to make CJ come over and take pictures because my cell phone just doesn’t capture the awesome.  Can I just tell you that I loooooove my curtains?  I especially love the ones in the dining room.  Yes, yes I do.

OMG you guys I can’t WAIT to move!!!  I am pretty much MIA, though.  I will be tweeting and I’ll try and update Facebook but this is about all the time I’ve got to jot anything down and I’m certainly not going to come up with anything profound or clever.  So picture me in your minds, running around like a fat chicken clucking at things and you’ve pretty much got what I’m up to.  Packing, cleaning, pleading with my son to quit climbing on the table.  Yeah.

Of course…I’m always up for baby sitters.  Anyone?  HEY! Quit running away! Just take one?

We were up until 4am putting things together, setting things up just so, that kind of thing.  Then, just as I was going to bed two little girls woke up. Abby was doing her usual moving to my room thing and Morgan was in the process of trying to do her usual “moving down with Grammy” thing but I intercepted her.  Tony went to sleep in their bed and I snuggled up with them.  I think Abby would have gone back to sleep if it wasn’t for Morgan’s incessant, excited talking.

Morgan, in her new "Jammahs".

I have never had such a lovely time just hanging out with my girls.  They weren’t fighting, or being rude, they were just full of happy anticipation.  They sang songs to me, they peered out the window, looking for Santa or snow, whichever came first.  They promised they wouldn’t go downstairs without Daddy and me.  They took turns reminding each other that they had to wait to open their gifts until their Aunt got there.  I was so exhausted by 6am that I decided I was going to sleep and pleaded with them  not to go downstairs without me.  They promised they wouldn’t.

I have to pause here and explain something funny (to me, anyway).  I honestly, truly, find Santa Claus to be one of the most ridiculous, annoying Christmas traditions in existence.  Not the legend itself, I actually like that just fine, particularly as it was inspired but such a heart-warming truth to begin with.  What I can’t get down with is people purposefully lying to their children.   I’m not going to bother going into all the reasons why it bothers me as I’m sure that no matter which side of the fence my readers come down on, you’ve all heard it before.

That said, naturally,I have always been honest with my children.  I’m not opposed to Santa’s legend, I’m opposed to going out of my way to convince my children of something that isn’t true only for them to find out later I’m a big fat liar.

Get ready to laugh, ok?

It’s not working!! That’s right, folks, I’ve been out-voted!  By, surprise, surprise, my children.  I knew I was in trouble when Morgan told me that she knew the tooth fairy was just a story but SHE HAD BETTER COME ANYWAY, the night she lost her first tooth.  About 3wks or so ago, Morgan told me emphatically that she didn’t CARE if I believed in Santa, she *wanted* to and that was that.  I’ve long maintained that Morgan is free to believe what she wants so I was kind of in a bind, there.  Abby feels the same way and both of them were terribly sad that I didn’t believe.  Morgan even told me that *everyone* should believe because if they don’t, they can’t hear the bells!  Damn you, Grammy and your obsession with the Polar Express! (ok, it’s an adorable movie, I admit it.)

So I basically found myself being dragged, kicking and screaming, to the dark side.  My initiation to this side of the fence was sealed when, in a fit of pure frustration, I did the thing I swore I’d never do:  I threatened the kids with Santa’s disappointment.  Yes, yes I did.  It was Christmas Eve and I needed them to help me pick up their crap from the living room floor to make room for the presents we’d be hauling in during the night.  The girls knew that WE were bringing the presents in because I’d told them so.  But for whatever reason, that’s not how they were talking about it. They’re smart, the game is fun, and it was ON.  But they had no desire to clean up their toys.  I was very frustrated as I had so much to do and nobody was even trying to help and they were all getting in the way.  I said, “I don’t know if Santa brings toys to little girls that won’t help their Momma!!!!”
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.  There was a moment of shocked silence (at least, there was in my head) before both girls gleefully clapped their hands and Morgan said, “Momma, you believe?  YAY!”  Then? They picked up their toys! Every last one and then they helped me decorate the whole room and spent the majority of the rest of the day being pretty damn good!

Oh, Santa, your luster and lure has won me over!  I don’t feel that I’ve lied to my children (shit, I’ve gone so far as to tell them exactly who Claus is and where he comes from and I will continue to do so whenever they ask) but DAMN is that a handy legend!

So, this brings me back to my telling of last night.  I asked the girls not to go downstairs.  I told them they had to wait for the sun, explaining that hey, it’s bad luck to interrupt Santa’s work! (It get’s easier to come up with this shit the more you do it.)

They were so good.  I did fall asleep from pure exhaustion around 6:30am.  At the time, they were playing games on the computer, in the dark, quietly as could be.  At 7, I was briefly awakened by Morgan whispering to her sister over my head (they were snuggling in on either side of me) that if they went to sleep, Santa would come faster.

I was awakened by Nadine’s freezing cold finger on my shoulder.  I had told her to get there early as I had not anticipated the girls waking at 4:30 in the morning and staying awake until 7.  My kids are usually all awake by 8, and Ethan and Abby are typically awake before 7 (because deep down in their little hearts, they hate the fact Momma likes to sleep).  She had already gotten Ethan up and fed him breakfast and diapered him (isn’t she wonderful?) and she didn’t wake Tony and I until 9.  The kids were still sleeping so that gave us a chance to wake up and feel sort of alive before the kids came down.  I was so freaking excited that I was tempted to wake them up!  Thankfully, dh is somewhat more rational than me and convinced me that extremely cranky kids are never fun, especially on holidays.

No matter, they were up by Ten.  I have never been so excited in my life.  The two biggest gifts we got them were a Barbie Dreamhouse and a Retro Red Kitchen .  Morgan wanted that Dream House SO so badly.  Abby, I don’t think, even knew that such things as that kitchen existed but I knew she would absolutely adore it.  The best part was, they were both things that were easily shared with their siblings and invited a lot of imaginative, cooperative play.  They also both invite parents and Aunties to contribute to “collections” during other gift-times, which I’m a big fan of (keeps the over-all random clutter down while providing easy gift ideas).  Morgan had asked me for that dollhouse about a month previous and I had told her (honestly) that we couldn’t afford it.  She was so gracious about it, asked for a couple of Barbies instead and that was that. It turned out, though, that with some careful planning, we could afford it and Daddy wanted her to have it.  So we bought it, sent it to Mollie’s and just let Morgan keep thinking she wasn’t getting it.  It was easy to do, she didn’t pester us about it or ask for it again, she just talked about how awesome it was all the time.

An unbelievable display of opulent consumerism.

They had a ridiculous pile of stuff.  We put their big stuff together and then covered them with a blanket and piled all their other gifts up in front of them.  Each kid had a pile and they just kept growing.  The Aunties stopped by and dropped off stuff, Grammy kept bringing in more stuff.  It was epic.

The gasp of utter delight from my kids was WORTH not going to bed until 7freakingam.  Abby jumped up and down and clapped when she saw the living room and Morgan just gaped.  Ethan laughed.  He didn’t have any idea what it all meant but he could tell it was good!

I had so many moments of MomJoy that I can’t even beging to describe it.  Watching Abby reverently stroke a toy Grammy bought her while she breathed “Wow” ever so softly,  Hearing Morgan’s “No WAY!” when she discovered something else, Watching with utter delight Ethan’s excitement over a ball that lights up when he bounces it.  Christmas morning has never, ever been like this for me.

When we finally got down to the blanketed gifts, I realized Morgan honestly had NO clue what was under hers.  She was just basking in the moment, never giving a thought to what the next gift was going to be (I bet that won’t last, lol).  Abigail had received many hints about hers and I was gratified to see that her cook pots and food were greeted with extreme enthusiasm.  I lifted Abby’s blanket first.  I swear to god she squeaked, she was so delighted. She couldn’t even move at first.  She turned to me with this shocked expression, and said “For ME?”  I got tears in my eyes!  Yes, baby, for you!

Morgan’s was next.  Daddy lifted her blanket and she just stood there, with her mouth hanging open, gasping.  ”But…but…but…Really? REALLY??  I thought it was too expensive! I never ever thought I was going to get this!”  She was SO freaking surprised.  I had to blink back tears, she was so delighted.

Playing with their new stuff.

Ethan's all like, "Hawt! Cabinets nobody tells me I can't open!"

The kids played all day.  Dh and I and Grammy mostly just laid around. Daddy let me have a nap (he napped also, while Ethan did) and then he and Grammy took all the kids to MomMom and PopPops and left me the house to myself.  Do you have any idea how rare that is? That might have been my favorite gift I received today of all.

If you got through all of this, you are a saint.  I just never want to forget it and wrote down the highlights for posterity.  Honestly, this was one of the best days of my life.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Have a Blessed New Year!

Some years ago, I started hosting Thanksgiving dinner with some of my closest friends and their family (we all lived together, at the time).  We made sure to invite a few friends that we knew had no other nearby family to celebrate with (several of which were part of our “family” anyway).  After I moved to NYS for a year, my friends continued this tradition and it exploded.  Over the past several years, see, some of my friends have gotten married, a few couples shared the same house, etc.  Not only that but we’ve made more friends.  And our tradition has always been to invite everyone we could think of and let them know they were welcome to invite whoever they wanted.  So it went from being a “large” group of 15-20 people and has evolved into a group of more like 50+ people and now, we rent a hall.

So without further adieu, here are the pictures!

This is where much of the magic happens.

We spent much of the day in this kitchen.  It’s amazing how many of us can fit in there and scuttle around at once.  I have no idea how CJ managed to get this picture with nobody in there.  She’s like, Ninja Photographer.

Morgan and Abigail displaying their Smurf-guts stained tongues.

I actually feel kind of bad for CJ.  See, yeah, we wanted pictures but none of us particularly enjoy having our pictures taken.  She was stuck snapping pictures of people pointedly ignoring her camera.  Luckily, she had four little hams to work with.  Her daughter and my kids don’t mind hamming it up.  So consider this fair warning.  There are a lot of kid pics!

See what I mean? I wonder how many shots like this she got?

The kids were somewhat more cooperative...

Are the cupcakes ready for icing yet?

Ruby made a bunch of tantalizing looking pumpkin cupcakes.  They got iced with home-made cream cheese frosting.  Curse you, gluten hating stomach!!!

The girls were so delighted when Aunt Ruby invited them to help ice the cupcakes!

In this picture you can see Lee (the master of the kitchen) Rob and Ashley (who are also a couple),The top of Morgan’s head, Abby’s arm, Aunt Ruby and of course, Ari.

Mmmm...frosting!

Sticky-fingers Abby digs in.

Ari say's, "Nom nom nom!"

I really can’t praise the kids enough.  They were patient, helpful, sweet and well behaved.

Abby helps keep her baby brother occupied while I was in the kitchen.

Well, hello there! It appears that the church has a resident Church-mouse.

I admit it, I think he's adorable. SO cute!

I don’t think Mr. Whiskers, above, realized that there were people in the hall that could see him until the kids started squealing with delight.  He disappeared so quickly it was almost like he teleported to another dimension.  Here is their attempt at luring him back out:

Inside the bag are a few French Fries and a couple slivers of an orange. They watched that bag like a couple of cats!

Trussing a duck!

CJ caught me in the kitchen.  I actually made two ducks but I think one picture is enough, don’t you?

Look at all the happy people!

You know you are living in the 21st century when Wife and Husband are sitting next to one another with their phone's out, lol.

Nola, Nadine, Roland and Max. Nadine provided much pies for the feast!

Abby and Alex, hanging out.

Ah, the back of my husband's head. Doesn't he have nice hair?

Let’s see who’s in this picture…I see Miss Meg, Molly, Josh, Ashley, her parents and her Aunt, Miss Stephanie, Nan, Jenny and of course, my husband.

Tony finally gets a plate for himself! He had been busy making the duck gravy when the rush started.

There’s my husband, in the foreground.  I know, he’s delicious.  I mean the food is, the food is!  You can see me to the left there, with my back to the camera and to my right wanders my son.  The evening was winding down a bit, there.

Mmmm. Pickled radishes, potato salad, fruit salad, turkey, pasta salad. Yum!

I loved the fact that both pitchers of gravy were gluten free!  One was made from turkey stock, the other from duck stock.  You can just see the ham, too.  It was delicious!

We did have veggies!

The greens were awesome!  There was mashed potatoes, home-made stuffing and baked mac n cheese (unfortunately NOT gluten free so I didn’t eat any.  *pout*).

Moar Foodz!

Let’s see, candied yams, fresh potatoes au gratin, Ruby’s famous Buffalo Chicken dip (which nobody bothers to dip anything into, it’s that good), fried potatoes, Amaretto corn (unbelievably delicious), cabbage (vegetarian and bacon varieties), green bean casserole, corn bread stuffing, perfect pork loin and a duck (the latter two foods were completely gone by the time this picture was taken)!  There are a few more delicious things in crock pots off to the left, too.  I think one was sauerkraut and the other was some kind of shredded potato and cheese dish.

Ah, the desert table...

The desert table!  For many people, this is the highlight of the evening.  We’ve got Ms. Patty’s famous pumpkin rolls in the foil, CJ’s chocolate chip fudge brownies and two chocolate cakes, Nadine’s pumpkin pies (complete with a gluten free one!) as well as her apple pies.  But wait, there’s more!

*drool*

We can’t have any kind of celebration without Ruby’s Cheesecake.  It’s just not right.  She made sure one was gluten free, too, which is a good thing because I would not be able to forgive having to look at cheesecake I couldn’t eat.  Look at those lovely, taunting cupcakes.  Yum!  I believe there is a berry pie behind them, also crafted with love by Nadine.

There is such a large variety of food because while we all obviously love to eat, some of us are quite picky about what we’ll eat.  My husband and I do not eat gluten, Alex’s sister is vegetarian, we have quite a few people with various allergies running around and then, you know, some people actually don’t like turkey.  Weirdos!  So there is something for everyone and then nobody is allowed to leave until all the leftovers are spoken for!  Eat it or take it home!

Aunt Nadine and Uncle Tim

Tim is my children’s God-Father.  Aunt Nadine is probably their favorite person in the universe because she spoils them rotten.  Wait…everyone spoils them rotten.  Everyone.

Prince and Princess game

I guess this is Disney’s influence.  When asked what on earth they were doing, I was told that Morgan was a princess and that Ari was her prince.

Abby get's a turn, too.

After people were full and before the cleanup really began in force, there was lots of goofing around and talking and laughing.  The kids happily bounced off the walls, of course.

Abby and Uncle Tim playing together.

Beautiful and Fierce!

Grrrrr!

*giggle* I love how Ari is kissing her "guns" in this one!

Ethan’s congestion got worse throughout the evening. Poor little guy.

Uncle Sucker (Lee) caught himself a tasty snack!

"The Girls"

Wait, how can I call this “The Girls” when there is a large man in the picture?  Because Lee is one of the girls.  He just is and he’s the only non-gay friend I’ve ever had to own that title and a penis at the same time.  Anyway, who’s in this picture? Nadine, Ashley, Alex, me (making a horrible face and mostly hidden behind food…I was trying to crouch and Alex tickled me and I was loosing my balance) Ruby, Shannon, Molly, Lucky, Nola, Lee, Ms Patty (Ruby’s mom and she’s holding Ethan) and Laura.  There was just one problem.  One of the girls is standing behind the camera and using that as an excuse to not be in the picture after whining about us and our non-camera loving.  That wouldn’t do.  Her boyfriend snuck up behind her and took her camera away while Lee walked around the table and picked her bodily up off the floor and carried her back around to join in.

Notice Lee's Cheshire Cat grin? Yeh.

And so, hiding behind Lucky, is one of my best friends, CJ.  And if you look, you’ll see Alex’s fingers moving in for another poke to my left (I’m the pastey white woman second from the left, in the front).  Meanie!  These pictures also happen to catch most of the cooking crew, though not all.  My husband isn’t in it, neither is Rob and neither is Anna (how did she escape The Picture?!?!).  Several of the dishes were brought by guests who had already gone home by the time this picture was taken, too.

I was hoping to get one of all the guys, too, but they all kept scattering around and it never happened.  Oh well.  It’s the women who run everything anyway, amirite?

The truth is that I actually have many more pictures but you get the idea.  Besides, if I shared them all, I wouldn’t have any fodder for later posts, right?

I hope everyone else had an amazing Thanksgiving and here’s to a fantastic holiday season!

See, every year our “family” (all of our friend-family and then some) pool our resources, rent a hall from 9am on, and have a huge feast together. It’s really nothing all that fancy, we just get together, cook all day and serve a ridiculous amount of food, buffet-style. Then we sit down together and act like a bunch of teenagers and have a good time, while stuffing ourselves like a bunch of starving dogs.

I absolutely love this tradition. Last year we had SO much fun! There were mishaps- (like that time I had my duck hanging in a corner, drying, for like, 8hrs, so I could make Peking Duck and one of my buddy’s, being helpful, got it down for me and *laid it right in the drippings*, thereby ruining the “Peking” part of my plan…yeah *sniff* good times!)- there was laughter, there was WAY too much amazing food. That duck, incidentally, lasted all of ten minutes and I got exactly one bite of it.

This year I was going to make a Goose. But when hubbykins went to purchase it, he sent me this series of texts:

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH”

“Chances I’m going to spend $60 on a bird that will lest 10 minutes?”

“ZERO”

So, yeah, instead I’m making *two* ducks, in the hopes that I’ll get two mouthfuls before they are nothing but bones and drippings.

You should totally see the menu. Last I checked we’ve got (mostly homemade, and from scratch, at that) turkey(s), duck, ham, mashed potatoes, candied yams, buffalo chicken dip, mac n cheese, stuffing, twice baked potatoes (which are absolutely DIVINE), casseroles, gravy, veggies (I know they are in there, I just can’t remember what they are), cranberry sauce, cheesecake, cake, brownies, pumpkin rolls, pumpkin cupcakes, pie(s) and the list goes on and on. We don’t know how to do anything in half measures. Thankfully, the hall we rent includes a kitchen with two large ovens…which will be going all day.

*squee* I don’t know what it is about it, exactly, but there are few things I enjoy as much as getting together with a bunch of friends and slaving in a kitchen all day. It’s just so much fun! Last year, by the end of the night, my feet hurt SO badly and my sciatica was NOT my friend but it was 100% worth it.

This year something totally awesome is happening, though. One of my dearest friends (and the mother of my beautiful God-daughter) is bringing her fancy camera and doing pictures of the event! This woman is quite talented at capturing candid moments and I’m extremely excited to get the opportunity to share pictures of our “family” at it’s craziestImean best.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and may your holiday be warm, fun and full of joy!

So what happened? Well, I had just put the baby-gate up to the living room right after Ethan had gotten up from his nap. I had my laptop and was in the kitchen, chatting with a friend about the article I was going to write today. I could hear the kids playing and paused several times to get various things for them and that sort of thing. Typical afternoon. In fact, I was just thinking how irritated I was that Abigail kept calling me when Ethan started to cry. I didn’t think much of it as Ethan is at that age where he bumps his head into *everything* and cries often, usually because he’s pissed about something. But I heard panic rise in his voice and then a gurgle and I was in the living room doorway the next second. I thought he’d probably fallen and was choking on some unknown bit he’d picked up and shoved in his mouth. He was on the floor, facing away from me, but getting up and crying. I began to reach over the baby-gate because for some stupid reason it didn’t occur to me to just move it. Abby says, in that sing-song, tattle-tale voice “Momma, Ethan was playing with your knitting needles…”

Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. I noticed several things all at once. 1) A knitting project I’d abandoned and stuffed away months ago, before Ethan could really crawl well, (and completely forgotten about) was out on the floor, mostly underneath Ethan. 2) Ethan was turning towards me, having completely risen from his fall- he was bleeding from his mouth 3) The baby gate was collapsing underneath me as he was farther away than I initially realized and had leaned farther than I should have to reach him.

Because I had a hold of his shirt as I was realizing the gate was falling, I nearly crushed him under the gate. Thankfully the COUCH was in the way and the gate didn’t actually land on him (nor did I) and I was able to get up and get him out from under it without further injury to him. I hadn’t panicked yet as I thought he’d fallen and bit his tongue.

I’m soothing him, trying to get a look in his mouth but he’s really panicking now, sputtering, gurgling and blood starts pouring out of his nose as well as his mouth. I can’t see *anything*, can’t get a good look and I’m remembering Abby’s comment about the knitting needles and I realize he must’ve fallen with it in his mouth.

Yeah, I panicked. I felt like someone had just deflated my legs. I sank to the floor as the room spun around me and fumbled in my pocket for my cell phone, while holding Ethan. All I could think about was this story I’d read in the media some years ago about a little boy who’d fallen with something in his mouth and punctured his esophagus. That little boy died. Because he was bleeding so profusely from his nose I thought maybe the knitting needle has gone up his nose. All sorts of horrible possibilities were flying through my head faster than I could really follow them. It took every ounce of self control that I had to speak slowly and clearly to the emergency person on the phone. I explained what I thought had happened, made it clear that no, there was nothing currently stuck in his face, told her that I thought he could breathe ok but that I had no idea where the damage actually was.

Now, I live on this street that confuses every delivery person and first time visitor that comes through here. The street I live on is horse-shoe that wraps around to the main road. It has the same name as the main road but the street sign says, “To ***** circle” on it, NOT the name of the street. Not only that but the “to” is very small so it’s hard to see when you’re driving by so it just looks like the street is called “***** circle”. So I watched from my front yard, with my bleeding son on my hip, in dismay as not one but TWO ambulances passed by our street…twice. I’m waving and yelling, trying not to jostle Ethan too much.

Thankfully the ambo drivers figured it out. As they were pulling up I noticed that Ethan wasn’t gurgling anymore and had calmed down significantly. The bleeding had pretty much stopped as far as I could tell, also. Abigail had gotten dressed as I asked her and we went out to the Ambulance and were helped aboard.

Ethan didn’t much appreciate being examined and in the end, I had to wipe his face off and try to settle him. Even with the paramedics help, I couldn’t tell where the needle had gone in, what was damaged or how bad it was. All they could tell me for certain was that he definitely wasn’t loosing blood, his pupils were good and he didn’t appear to have any brain damage. Good, all immediately life-threatening possibilities were ruled out. But we obviously couldn’t rule out slow-leaking bleeding or damage that needed to be repaired. They offered to drive us to the hospital but instead I called my MIL and asked her to come as I didn’t want to take a First Responder out of commission for an injury that wasn’t immediately life threatening (I only live 6 or 7min away from the hospital).

I’m chuckling a bit remembering this, but as MIL’s phone is ringing, I’m trying to figure out how to tell her how important it was that she come home right away without causing her to freak out. But I mean, really, how do you say “The baby stabbed himself in the face with a knitting needle” without panicking a person? You don’t! There isn’t any nice way to say that! I told her what happened and that I needed her to come home right now and she of course said she’d be right there. Poor woman. I forgot to mention the ambulance I was sitting in. When she pulled up, she saw it and got out of the car and started RUNNING up the street. I saw her and called to her not to run, he’s ok.

So we took him to the ER. I must’ve gotten very lucky. The ambulance drivers warned me that the hospitals were crazy today (they’d responded to our call immediately upon clearing someone having a seizure in their car right outside of the fire station!). They were not kidding, the main waiting room at the ER was stuffed full of people but when I got back to pediatrics I found it completely empty and we only waited about 45 seconds before someone got me into triage. By now, Ethan seems to be FINE. I mean, he’s flirting with the nurse that’s taking his vitals, chattering away and generally being his normal, charming little self. He looked a mess, of course. His face was crusty and bloody, he’s got blood all over his hand from rubbing his nose. I must’ve looked quite harried as the nurse took a minute to tell me that she’s sure he’s fine. I got a look at myself in the mirror and had to laugh. I had blood on my face, blood on my shirt, my hair was a mess. *sigh*

In the end, the doctor had a good look at his mouth and nose and said that he had an abrasion towards the back of his pallet. It looked like the needle scraped him, but not deeply and it was probably his panicked crying that had it all leaking out of his nose like that. He opted against an mri as Ethan could swallow and breathe just fine so no reason to expose him to a bunch of radiation.

This was after I'd cleaned as much blood as he'd let me off of his face. He's playing peek-a-boo, here, while we wait for the doctor, at the ER.

To say that I’m relieved is beyond an under-statement. Ethan downed his “lets-make-sure-he-can-swallow” juice in record time and ate his dinner just fine. You would never know, by the time I put him to bed, what he’d been through today.

I stand by my previously held notion: pediatric ER’s need to have boozeahol machines next to the coffee machines. For the parents. I mentioned this to one of the nurses and while she was amused she said the only problem would be that the nurses would never leave it alone, haha. I bet!

K, so yeah. To say today was a long, harrowing day is probably an understatement but guess what? It was a long, harrowing day. I’m just grateful beyond all ability to express that my son is ok. I really thought, in that moment when his nose started gushing and he was choking on his own blood that he was going to die. I’ve never known terror like that. It’s been hours and I’m still feeling a little off kilter.

So I know that when I can hear significantly better out of my “bad” ear than my “good” one that I’m in trouble. This happens to me fairly often, though. I’ve spent the majority of all three of my pregnancies stone deaf thanks to rhinitis of pregnancy. Pretty much whenever I get a runny nose for any reason, my ears clog right up and I can’t hear a damn thing. It’s uncomfortable but not painful and eventually, once the congestion clears up, it goes away and I can hear normally (for me) again. I’ve been told that I probably have narrow eustachian tubes, meaning that any time I have swelling due to sinusitis, they close up too much for proper drainage. Awesome.

Well I was sick about a month ago, now. I mean, you know, I had the yucks: snot, sneezing, coughing, sore belly, sore throat, the whole nine yards. I might have even wined about it here, I don’t remember. I’m feeling better, though not a hundred percent, but two symptoms just won’t die. One of them is a mild headache and the other is my friggin’ EARS. They haven’t gotten any better at all, in fact, they’ve gotten worse. They’ve gotten to the point where I’ve got almost constant dizziness and I can feel them sloshing around and I can’t HEAR and AND a few days ago they started switching off with the pain- first on one side, then the other. This morning I woke up and just couldn’t take it anymore! I dreamed all night about weaving around the house like a drunk from the dizziness and I woke up just as dizzy. When I’ve got vertigo that badly it’s hard to keep my eyes open or focus on anything.

So I broke down and made an appointment to see my Primary Care doctor. I go to the doctor as rarely as possible mostly because I don’t like having to drag two small children to the doctors office alone, when I’m the one being examined. In fact, I’ll be honest: I loathe it. LOATHE. I was quickly reminded why within 5 minutes of walking into the office. There’s Abby, haven taken her boots off, climbing across a row of chairs, singing something to herself while my son flirts with the front desk staff by running around behind the counter and playing peek-a-boo with them. Thank God my kids are charming or we’d never be tolerated anywhere!

All throughout the visit, my conversation with the doctor was punctuated by things like, “Excuse me Doctor, Abby, please get out of there.” “Ethan, Baby, no, the light-socket isn’t a toy and NEITHER IS THE BLOOD PRESSURE BULB, ABBY!” I had to explain to Abigail twice that the scale is NOT a trampoline and that no, it does not “look cool” when the lights are flickering on and off!

Thankfully, Dr. Jane was terribly nice about it. In any case, she had good news for me! My ears were not, as I had thought, infected. Instead I have a nasty Sinus infection and have been put on Antibiotics. HOPEFULLY this will take care of my headache, allow my apparently stuffed to the brim head to drain and then, maybe, JUST maybe, I’ll be able to hear again. Sure would be nice not have to say, “What? I’m sorry, one more time? Yeah, still not quite getting it…” I hate that and I just know everyone else does, too.

Ethan is now at the age and Tony and I agree is the worst/best of toddlerhood. I don’t know who came up with the idea of the “Terrible Two’s” but they were WAY off base. Unless, of course, you start counting them at the beginning of the 2nd year of the child’s life, right after they turn a year old. Ethan is still a happy go lucky little guy- unless you are preventing him from doing something he really wants to do. Like pull all of the glass bottles out of the hutch, for example.

It’s the stage of toddler development that is by far the most fun to watch (imo) and the most exhausting and frustrating- for both the parents AND the child! Ethan can’t really talk yet, see, so most of his communication is done by kicking his feet and shrieking. He also has mastered the ability to climb on anything before his ability to grasp the difference between “dangerous” and “safe”. I believe whole-heartedly in allowing children the space to learn what they are capable of. You’re not going to find me repressing that whole exploration thing! I don’t think we give little kids enough credit for what they are capable of doing.

This is why I will spend quite a while every day going up and down the stairs with my son. He climbs up 8 steps, down four, up 8, down 8, up, down, up, down. He’s figuring it out! He’s very fast up. He’s disconcertingly fast coming down, too, and I don’t trust him not to fall so the gate stays up when I’m not available to go up and down and up and down and up and down and believe me, he is mortally offended by the presence of that stupid gate.

This morning I have had to rescue him from a big desk in the living room three times (the phone is on there and he thinks that is the best toy ever) and from the kitchen table twice! He’s either climbing onto high surfaces in the time it takes me to cross a room OR he’s pulling everything out of the cabinets at breakneck speed. Oh, or, trying his best to climb into the oven. I wish I was joking. Even Abby never tried to stuff herself into a broiler repeatedly. Boy, what is so interesting about the damn broiler?!?! I can’t wait until I live in my own home and can keep stuff in the lower cabinets I don’t mind him playing with. My MIL refuses to move the cleaning supplies n things out of the kitchen cabinet under the sink. This would be ok if there was some way to keep Ethan out of it.

But see, he’s figured out that the best things to play with MUST be the things Mean Ol’ Mommy won’t let him touch. So most of my days, recently, have been spent thwarting his efforts to sneak off with a can of Raid. BTW…I hate that stuff. HATE IT. I’d rather burn bugs with magnifying glasses or something than have a can of air-born poison lying around my house. Ugh. I can’t tell you how many times a day my wordless son and I have this conversation:

“Ethan? What are you doing?”

“Yah, Yah! This!”

“Ethan, close it! Close the door!”

“YahYahYah YAH YAH!”

“PUT THAT BACK YOU LITTLE FARTNOCKER!”

“NA! Na! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!”

*click of cabinet door shutting*

*deep breath*

*air-shattering shrieking and sumo-stomping*

Similar conversations ensue when I find him on the table. Or the desk. Just watch, it’ll be the fridge, next.

I admit it, my kids are little monsters. But you know, I figure monsters are pretty cool. I mean, seriously, let’s compare to other famous monsters. Fizgig is the first that comes to mind. When Abby was a baby, all she needed was hair and she and he were pretty much interchangeable. What about Elmo? Cookie Monster? GROVER!

Yeh, monsters rock. Ethan is some kind of cross between Elmo, Cookie Monster and Animal. Depending on the day, whether or not he’s teething and if he’s hungry.

Still, this age is also my favorite toddler age. It’s so much fun to watch them figure stuff out! I mean, yeah, so I have to go up and down the stairs repeatedly for an hour. But he’s learning! He figures something out and he does it over and over and over again until he’s sure how it works. Sometimes, it’s kind of gross. Two days ago he spent most of the day gagging himself and giggling. Yes, it’s true, Ethan, sticking your fingers, your spoon, random toys etc, down your throat will make you gag. Now stop it, it’s disgusting and frankly, I’m worn out from rushing into a room to save your life from choking only to discover you clapping and pleased with yourself. Ew.

This morning he was seriously trying to stuff his entire head into his cereal bowl. He was DELIGHTED when he realized that banging it on the table repeatedly would dislodge the cheerios that were stuck to the bottom.

15mo old boys are certainly entertaining! Boredom is NEVER something I struggle with!