Christmas Eve

A doctor friend who works with Robbie emailed me yesterday about how he could only imagine that our children had reached fever pitch with excitment toward Christmas. Today as they ran around the house singing with glee, I thought of that comment. So true! Tonight, once we finally got everyone to bed, Henry's voice rang out with a loud, "Mommmmyyyy!" I went to him, and he wanted to potty....again. While he used the restroom, I explained the importance of getting into his bed and going to sleep so that maybe Santa will bring him a Lightning McQueen (from Cars) toy. He looked at me seriously and said, "I been naughty or nice? I want presents, Mom." I laughed. Once I put him back to bed, I said, "I love you, Henry. Jesus loves you...and so does Santa." "That's funny!" he replied.

Well, some red wine and some caramel popcorn helped ease the pain of our 7 pm mass. Granted, our two youngest go to bed at 7 pm. Robbie and I are educated adults, yet we decided to go ahead with our 7 pm plan. It was a disaster. We arrived 45 minutes early, and Robbie and Olivia entered to save us some seats. I kept the little ones in the van with the special treat of a Christmas DVD movie to watch. We only watch movies in our vehicle on highway trips, so this was a big deal. Henry got upset once it was time to exit the van. He wanted to take some Lightning McQueen holiday window clings into church with him, and he tried to throw himself on the wet ground while I held Vivian (in her red winter pea coat), the diaper bag, and keys. It wasn't pretty. Once inside he went limp again a time or two, and I couldn't find Robbie in the packed house. A friend saved me by showing me the location of my husband, and I just left upset Henry in the aisle so I could drop off the baby to Robbie. People were staring. During mass we sat much closer to the front that usual, and Henry noticed a Christmas vest on the woman behind us. "Hey, that's RUDOLPH!!" he announced. He started asking her questions about her outift, and then he said, "Mommy, can I have a Rudolph shirt too?" The baby was good for 3/4 of mass, then she'd had ENOUGH. She started crying, and even the kind old woman next to us who let Henry touch her red gift earrings and pet her fur coat couldn't cheer my baby. The big girls were good. Actually, Evelyn earned our highest honor, Gold Star Behavior. She was an angel. I think she was too tired to act up in mass.

However, once home she completely and absolutely freaked out with fear that we were not getting her to bed fast enough. She was convinced Santa was going to pass our house, and she was crying and almost screaming for somebody to please unzip her dress. "For the love of God, get this thing off of me!!" I think she would have added, had she had the phrase in her vocabulary. Now, we haven't heard a peep out of her since lights out, and that's no short of a miracle. The funniest part about her tantrum was that once I finally got her to open her special Christmas Eve package, the box was Robbie's Kashi Go Lean from Costco. She was furious. She actually threw it on the floor, and said, "I don't want that!!!!!!" I know it seems naughty, but it was hysterically funny. Robbie and I laughed hard, and we understood her fear of missing Santa and his magic. "Why would I want a box of dry old cereal, parents?! I need to GO TO BED RIGHT NOWWWW" her little mind flew. I got it. The others opened gifts and found snowflake PJs, all coordinating. Evelyn figured it out, and she dressed herself in the new clothes faster than the others.

I love Christmas. My parents made it so special for us. We hope to create the same excitement and wonder for our four. I kept reminding the kids about Jesus' birthday too. They are young, but I think they get it. My favorite mass of the year is Christmas Eve, and my favorite song is Joy to the World. When it plays, I think of my dad. He belts out that tune, and I just love it. It isn't Christmas without Joy to the World. This year Dad and I weren't together. I missed his singing. However, Vivian kept things exciting. She screamed during the entire song. I re-entered the church before that final song. I couldn't be without my family during it. I just couldn't. Baby girl cried real tears, and nothing helped. I was so distracted that I didn't cry my usual Christmas Eve tears from missing my dad. Maybe that was Vivian's gift to her mommy.

Mama's tired. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night! God speed, Santa!!!!!!

"Do you think our Elf on the Shelf has a tiny little penis?"

The kids have been so funny lately. First, the baby moved to the dark side yesterday. She turned 10 months on the 8th, and yesterday she was in full "baby on the move" mode. She opened a kitchen cabinet and threw things on the floor. She opened the drawer under the oven and tried to get to pans and lids. She cleared the bottom bookshelf of books and ripped an entire page from one. She got a cookie sheet and banged a cup against it to make a huge clatter!

This weekend Robbie was on the phone with his dad. Robbie doesn't do too much phone talking at home, and we have opposite styles. I talk while I unload the dishwasher or fold laundry. Robbie rests while he chats. After a LONG time, I began to wish he'd get off the phone. I needed to talk to him before I left the house, and he seemed in no hurry to end the call anytime soon. Just as I decided to interrupt him, Olivia handed him a note. It said, "Get off the phone right now for goodnise sake you have been on the phone sinse 10:00 to 12:18 you promised me you would tackle me!!!!!!!!!!" It worked. He got off the phone. They wrestled. He's such a good guy.

I went out to finish our holiday shopping, and I returned to homemade chicken and dumplings. It was amazing! The smell filled our home, and the food warmed me to the core after fighting crowds in store, cold air between stores, and unkind drivers. Gosh, it was good!! The next morning he used the dumpling recipe to make a giant biscuit for breakfast. The kids devoured the food, and I was completely thankful for a cooking husband. He even made sausage gravy!

Last night when the kids asked for dessert, Robbie suggested I make some dark chocolate brownies. I tried to make them molten cupcakes, and they were not well formed after much time in the oven. Henry ate his, and Robbie said, "Henry is the messiest human alive." His face was smeared with chocolate. It was all over his hands, his shirt, the table, and his chair. I thought the same thing when I found so many crumbs under his chair from his lunch today. How does one create so many crumbs? I think it requires special skill.

Okay, I hear somebody crying upstairs, but I must continue...
Evelyn came into our bathroom recently after searching for Porton, our Elf on the Shelf. He goes to the North Pole each night and tells Santa how our children behave. This means he tells Santa how they tease each other and leave their PJs on the floor. Anyway, Evelyn said, "Mama, do you think our Elf on the Shelf has a tiny little penis?" Now, Porton is smaller than a Barbie, and I laughed out loud. Robbie was in the shower, and he laughed too. I said, "Yes, Ev, I'm sure he has a little penis. He's a little elf, and that's how boys go pee pee." She then asked if Santa has a penis.

I have another hair cutting story and one that totally explains Ev's personality, but Vivian calls! You'll have to wait.

Winter Magic

This morning began in a lovely way. Evelyn was the first one up, and I found her curled up on the couch quietly and happily looking at Olivia's book. Henry eagerly joined his sisters, and the three of them sat close to one another under a big blanket on the couch while watching a t.v. program called Little Bear. Little Bear is dear to me because I often turned it on during the dog tired days of my early pregnancies when I felt sick and needed to rest with my other children. Classical music plays throughout the show, and it always has a sweet theme.

Our neighbors the Scarboros joined us for mass, and the girls had excellent behavior. The sermon dealt with joy, and at one point Vivian let out a delightful giggle with her daddy. Others nearby turned and smiled, and I couldn't help but lean to Mary Jane and whisper, "Now that is joy." She agreed. Henry said all the way to church, "I don't like Santa. I don't want to see him!" We enjoyed Breakfast with St. Nick, and Vivian amazed us by being our first little baby to not cry while sitting on Santa's lap for a photo. She happily smiled and tried to reach his bells. She is the best little baby I have ever had, and today just reinforced the statement.

We ran an errand to the store after mass, and Henry kept kissing little Vivian. She had on a new red wool pea coat with a matching beret from Grandma Mary and Grandpa Mike, and she looked like a baby from years gone by. An Indian man who was offering samples of juice saw the four children, and he commented on how cute the girls looked in their red coats. "Such pretty little girls. You are very blessed." He almost brought tears to my eyes. I am blessed indeed.

Now I have a moment to blog while the three oldest children are outside playing in the new fallen snow. Magical!! The temperature today is frigid, so I don't expect my children to last long outdoors. Lucky for them, I have a pot of water heating on the stove for good old hot chocolate. I have been working on Christmas cards, football is on the t.v. for Robbie, and the Christmas tree lights are twinkling. Winter can be so much fun.

It Smells Terrible, So Terrible

This has been a very hard week. As soon as Robbie and I decided to go to bed early Sunday night, Henry threw up in his crib. He cried out to me, and I hurried to his room. The telling smell hit me once I opened the door, then my bare foot confirmed my nose's discovery. So gross. I took over with Henry in the bathtub, and Robbie took over with the floor, crib sheets and blankets, PJs, etc. The laundry was already backed up, so this sealed the deal. The diarrhea started the next day with Henry and the baby. I changed a ton of nasty diapers. Evelyn complained she didn't feel well after she got home from preschool. The kids have been whining, fighting, fussing, and overall making me want to tear my hair out of my head all week. I'm tired and emotionally drained from the stamina required to be "on" 24/7. Henry keeps throwing clothing fits...he wants the football monkey PJs, he doesn't want socks, he wants Yaya's cleats, he doesn't want a coat, and on and on it goes. The girls have been fighting A LOT, and a mama only has so much patience for such nonsense.

We put up the Christmas tree on Friday, and Henry will not leave the thing alone. I caught him with a broken unbreakable Christmas bulb ornament and a plastic candy cane. He was golfing. He keeps tossing stuffed animal dogs into the tree, and he keeps insisting I call him Henry the Baby T Rex. At least the nickname fits! He also showed me how he climbs onto his diaper changing area to get out of his bed, and he said as he lowered himself carefully to the ground, "See Mommy. I hold on right here." He thinks he's such a big shot.

Robbie got a root canal on Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Read...dollars down the drain right before the holidays. Yesterday after work he fixed the ceiling light in the baby's room, which was falling out of the ceiling. He had to go into the attic to figure out the problem, and I prayed he would not fall through a ceiling somewhere. I also discovered a leaky pipe in the basement yesterday, so Robbie had to go the hardware store for parts. We were still working on fixing the house after 9 pm, and I was so ready to be DONE.

This morning the baby woke up at 5:12 am to nurse. Henry went to get Robbie out of bed to take him potty. Once I fed Vivian and returned to our warm bed I found two big girls in it. Their fighting began over whose legs were where, and I was too tired for it. I just wanted to curl up with my sleepy husband and snooze for 30 more minutes.

Well, this morning my stomach is unsettled. Henry just absolutely filled his diaper with liquid poop, then he used the potty with more #2. As I helped him, he said, "It smells terrible, so terrible." Finally, God gave me some comic relief. Henry was totally right, but the fact that he verbalized it at age two was hilarious.

We are really excited for Dad and Jane to arrive from Illinois tomorrow, but I have a laundry list of things to get done before that time. I need some stamina, and I need to feel better. I sat looking at my upside down house this morning and wondered if there is some service that provides a Mary Poppins type person to come in and take over the joint. Why can't mommies get sick days? I need to rest in bed, and I also need some clean diapers. I think I am almost out of Henry's, and this is not a good problem to have right now. God help me.

On the "glass is half full" side of things, Robbie did a grocery run for me last night, and we are no longer on the verge of being out of milk and fruit. I do not have to take any sick kids to the store, and that is a beautiful thing. Also, the baby has been her sweet self. She's scooting herself all around the floor, and I think she ate some real Christmas tree leaves from the branches.

Thanksgiving and the Diaper Eater

Our Thanksgiving started off with a 4 am call from a patient with an eyelid issue. Robbie was in a dead sleep, and he had a hard time waking up to ask and answer medical questions. I thought back to the days of residency, and I remembered all of the middle of the night pages he received. The sound of that beeper used to startle us out of sleep like little else. I'd lie there and pray that he wouldn't have to climb out of our warm bed and drive at 3 am down to take care of a drunk patient who got his eye socked in a fight. I was so worried about him while he was away from me. Things are much easier now. Even if it is hard to shift from sound asleep to "on" for a suffering patient, at least his trips to help them have decreased. We spoke about how thankful we are to be out of the residency years. However, I wouldn't trade them. I am glad that I was by Robbie's side through all of it. I think he has a wonderful and worthwhile profession, and he didn't get there overnight. It was a long and sometimes hard process, and I think we can appreciate each small improvement in our lifestyle more having paved the road together. He shared some thoughts about how he loves and appreciates me this evening, and they were among some of the nicest words he's ever spoken to me. I am very lucky in love.

I couldn't go back to sleep after the phone call. Anthony has an appetite like no other. He has been with us for two weeks today, and it has been really fun having him around. He ordered pizza and shared it with us right before we went to bed, and I woke up thirsty, thirsty, THIRSTY. I made my way to the kitchen, which helped cool my hot legs. It sounds so silly, but once my legs and feet get hot in bed, I'm toast. I can't sleep with hot legs. Henry will call out to me in the mornings, and he often says, "Where are your pants, Mom." My answer is always the same. "My legs got hot. I took them off." Life was good this morning. The girls came into our room and started talking to us as though it were the middle of the day, but we went right back to sleep as they played in the living room. Henry and Vivian slept until 7:40 am. Unheard of. However, we were VERY thankful.

I made strawberries and cream bread yesterday to serve this morning, and Henry ate five slices. Robbie and the girls really enjoyed it too. I used Uncle Lee's bread pan and thought of him. Hubby injected the turkey with ingredients from an Emeril recipe, then he grilled it. I thought it was amazing. I think I honestly love my husband a little bit more each time he cooks something really good for me. We used the Really Good Cornbread recipe from the newest Ann Lund cookbook, and it made Robbie's stuffing from Grandma Gloria's recipe even more delicious. It was Henry's favorite part of the meal. I prepared a whipped sweet potatoes recipe from that cookbook too, and Robbie raved about it. I took my friend's advice and used a small pie pumpkin to process the pulp for my homemade pumpkin pie. I used Emily's mother's recipe for pie crust, but I never think I get it just right. It was too thick or something. I need Nada or Emily to help me perfect pie crust. That's the whole reason I eat pie...for the crust. Anyhow, we had other food too, and it was a great meal. Anthony was with us. We each reflected on and shared something for which we were thankful. Little Henry said, "My daddy and you, Mom."

Yesterday I caught him climbing out of his crib. He's done it twice after being placed there for time-out. His method sent me into a laughing fit while I was on the phone with Robbie. He climbed from his bed to a small shelf of his changing table/cabinet bookshelf on his tummy. He looked like a slithering snake. He then crawled onto his changing pad near his diapers. It was incredibly dangerous. I should not have laughed, but I was so shocked that I couldn't help myself. He did it after I put him to bed, and he announced that he didn't want to "go sleeping." We are almost in toddler bed territory, God help me. Henry keeps me hopping. Yesterday I found him in his crib after naptime without a diaper. He also had part of the diaper tabs ripped off, and he was chewing on them. What in the world would put that idea in his head, and why would he then execute the crazy thought?

Ant has been videotaping the kids. He has Michael Fat Leg footage, Gwen. I'll have to get it for you. He caught Vivian attempting to crawl for Henry's Lightning McQueen remote control car this evening while the girls were away with Robbie on a daddy-daughter date to see Tangled. Things get so complicated with a little baby on the move.

I told Henry at bedtime tonight that we are going to get a Christmas tree tomorrow for our own house. He said, "Our house will be so happy." Our little guy is such a treasure.

I'm so happy with my little family. I told Robbie that I love how each child is at such a different stage. It won't always be this way. We have Olivia, a true school girl. She can read and write and play soccer and go to gymnastics and help me make green beans for Thanksgiving dinner. I have a sweet little preschool girl who still has some babyishness to her look. She says I'm her favorite mommy she's ever had. She's all about writing letters and cutting and using glue. Henry is two and a half. He's a boy. Need I say more, dear blog readers? I will. Henry is charming and smart and active. He makes life funny and exciting. Vivian is my doll baby. As soon as I gave her the pink blanky tonight, she stuck her thumb into her mouth and burrowed into my neck. I said, "I love you, my little snuggle bug." When I hold her in the glider, classical music plays in the room, we're snuggled up under a cozy blanket, she nurses and looks up at me, my heart feels so lovely. Those moments are what pregnant first time moms imagine before their baby is actually born.

I think that after spending so much time with me during the days while Robbie is away at work, Anthony has a new perspective on my role as mother of four. He walked in one day, and we five were going wild to Just Dance, a Wii game. It was so much fun. The baby was jumping up and down in her exersaucer. He's also observed temper tantrums, loud crying, sassy back talk, terribly stinky poop diapers, demands for warm milk, corn bread lunch explosions, laundry piles that rival Mt. Everest, and sibling rivalry. He caught me as I put my hands to my head in frustration and breathed deeply one morning, and he later said, "They're driving you nuts today, aren't they?" Yes, sometimes they do. After watching the symphony that is homework hour, dinner prep, baby's time to nurse, pantless mad Henry, he said, "I don't know how you do it." My honest response was, "Sometimes I don't do it very well." Good and bad. Happy or sad. I love each of these little ones, and on this Thanksgiving night, I can't imagine not having one of them in the family. I hope God blesses us with more love, laughter, and good health. Those are life's true riches.

Twenty Bucks

Robbie and I try to be responsible with our money. I have made some changes in my grocery shopping locations to save where I can. Today I took my Thanksgiving shopping list to ALDI, which is a discount food seller. The carts require the insertion of a quarter to unlock from one another in an attempt to keep them in one location. The temp was 34. I strapped Vivian to my chest. I held the small hands of Henry and Evelyn. Ev had the quarter. As we approached the carts, Henry's shoe fell off. I needed to help Evelyn put the quarter into the cart to release it from the others. Henry doesn't put his shoes on by himself too well, and all of this had to happen while maneuvering with a 9-month-old attached to my front. Not good.

As God smiled down at me on the pretty sunny day, COLD, yet pretty, a woman exited the store. She took one look at me and went into help mode. Her friendly demeanor and face reminded me of a very nice lady at Robbie's office named Debbie. This woman said her daughter had three children in Syracuse, and she knew things looked hard at the moment. She insisted we take her cart without receiving our quarter in exchange. She picked up Henry's shoe and put it on his thick foot after I lifted him into the seat. I thanked her and we wished each other a happy Thanksgiving.

I started down the main aisle and began to check off my list...flour, sugar, brown sugar, pretzels, fruit spread, and on it went. I had almost made it to the dairy section when the same lady came up next to me. She seemed very nervous. I still don't know how her gift made it into my hand, but she said, "Take this. Don't think I'm weird." She then rushed away from me. I was dumbfounded. I looked down and found a folded twenty in my hand. I said, "Oh, no. No, no. Ma'am. Please come back. Ma'am!! Take this." She was already halfway down the next aisle, and she was speed walking. Another shopper came up to me and said, "What happened? Are you okay? What did she give you?" I said, "She gave me money." I must have looked shocked and confused, which I totally was. The lady said, "Well, and I bet it made her feel good to give it to you, and it makes you feel good to receive it. This is the spirit of Thanksgiving."

My mind started racing. All I could think about was how the gift giver looked like SHE needed the money. Yes, we try to stretch our funds, but we are quite far from poor. I then reflected upon our appearance. True, I had planned to workout before our grocery run. That didn't happen, and I hadn't showered and put on any make-up. My khakis were from my teaching days in the late 90s pre-kids, and there was a hole in one knee. However, my kids wore nice, warm, clean coats from Land's End. Their hair was combed. I then thought, "This is ridiculous. Evelyn is carrying a $100 doll, and this lady just gave me money and ran away". I was embarrassed. In my mind I laughed and told myself that the money came because Evelyn's doll's long hippy hair was such a disaster. If the woman waivered at all about whether or not to give us some money, then Julie the American Girl doll from 1974 sealed the deal. If I didn't have a conscience I'd take Julie to the doll salon, and yes, they really have one, and spend the $20 on getting her hair done. It needs it.

I kept shopping. Evelyn decided to give me a run for my money. She was VERY naughty, and rather than fix her misbehavior, she kept doing more and more to get into trouble. Consequences abounded. First, no American Doll girl for the rest of the day. Next, no t.v. Finally, no marshmallows as a treat upon our return home. Then she had to stand in the store in time-out for five minutes. I was so close to spanking her in public. Fear of appearing on the news probably stopped me. The trip was totally brutal. Totally!!!

My cart was completely full. At ALDI they have no shopping bags, and you're on your own to get your items to your car. There's no drive up service at that place. I started sacking my stuff into the cloth bags I brought along, and the lady who spoke to me after the gift started helping me. Again, I was surprised. Her name was Marge, and she looked a bit like my Aunt Vicky who passed away. I told her all of our names, and I thanked her. I told her she reminded me of Aunt Vicky too, and that created a huge smile on her face. She said, "I hope you like her." I said, "Oh, yes. I do."

Now I need to figure out a worthy charity to share the lady's $20. I figure it needs to be one that has a focus on helping mothers and young children. I'll add this to my mental To Do list, but this is a pretty special task. I doubt I'll ever forget this day. I must pay it forward. Again, I say, life is good. However, I can't help but question the motive. Did something happen with her own daughter, and her gift was a sentiment toward her love for that child? Did I have a deer in the headlights look out at the front of the store? What in the world inspired her to bless me with a random act of kindness? God only knows, and clearly, there is one.

Michael Fat Leg a.k.a Michael Flatley

Henry is wearing a black sparkly leotard with a built-in twirl skirt. He looks like a figure skater. All of our children have been Irish dancing after the Scarboros exposed them to Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance VCR tape last night while Robbie, Anthony, and I went to a museum and a bar. Anthony woke up to what must have sounded like rapid gunfire in the basement as the children's feet pounded the floor. They held out as long as their little bodies could contain themselves, then they unleashed. Evelyn and Henry thought the main guy's name was Michael Fat Leg, which we grown-ups found hilarious.

Henry has fallen in love with Olivia's new American Girl doll named Lanie. Olivia's Grandma Mary and Grandpa Mike took her to the Americal Girl store, and they returned with a soccer outift for the doll. She has her own mini cleats and shin guards to wear with her soccer jersey. Henry obsesses over it. The doll is the only one of us he'll kiss on the mouth. He asks for Lanie over and over again. He said to Anthony with desperation, "I want to hug Lanie!" Ant said, "Seriously?" Lanie even wears #2 like Olivia has on her soccer uniform.

One of our fun family games lately is for Robbie to lift Henry into the air and announce that he's Henry Man the superhero. Little guy then yells, "To the rescue!!!!" Robbie adds, "Able to run up and down the hall 60 times in one minute," and the girls laugh and laugh. My brother, who has been sleeping in our basement for a week, doesn't laugh about this part. Anthony has been making up songs about the kids as he plays his guitar. The girls enjoy it. Henry gets upset. "Uncle, don't sing that to MEEE!" I heard him yell today. Ant's song is about Henry's handsome look and his dislike of pants. He sings of how he runs everywhere he goes.

I introduced the children to air drums in the van. Henry really jams out, and I love it. When a song with great drums plays, I always tell him to play them. I think he likes Hot for Teacher the best.

I took down some Halloween decorations and noticed that Olivia made a haunted house that said "BOOOOB!" instead of "Boo!" She made it in first grade last year, but we never noticed the extra B.

As I diapered Henry and sprinkled baby powder on his bottom he wiped some of it with his finger. I reminded him that powder is not food and does not belong in his mouth. He thought I said, "pouter." He said, "Pouter. Like when Yaya (Olivia) goes to her bed?" I said, "Powder is this white stuff. Pouting is like this," and then I stuck out my lower lip and imitated his big sisters.

Vivian loves my brother. He smiles at her, and the girl totally lights up. She smiles with her whole face at him. I feel so lucky that he has been healthy for the last ten years. My children are so lucky to have him as a part of their lives.

Finally, food for thought. I feel like a bad mommy when it is past 8 pm, the girls are in goof off, rather than going to bed mode, Robbie is gone, and I want to push the "OFF" button on my girls. I lose patience, and I just hate it. However, I lose steam after 8 pm. I thank God every single day for the gift of my husband to my life. Now, you know what makes me feel like a good mommy? Making muffins. It sounds so silly, but it is totally true. When I bake up some nutritious muffins, and Ev says, "Mommy, these are the BEST muffins EV-UH!" I feel like a million bucks.

Gettin' Jiggy Wit It

I can't believe I just typed Gettin' Jiggy Wit It. On a drive in our sweet mini van that song came on the radio. I turned up the volume, sang to Ev and Henry, and watched as they started to catch on to the tune. When Robbie put Henry into his PJs last night I told Robbie about our experience with the song. Henry started going, "Na na nana, na na, Getting Jiggy Wit It!!!" It was great. After taking Olivia to gymnastics yesterday we heard AC/DC's Thunderstruck. I think that's the one Robbie liked to play in high school before his basketball games. Henry loved it. He did a different shoulder dance move in his car seat to the rock song, and he certainly made his mommy smile.

Vivian turned 9 months yesterday. Nov. 8th was also the anniversary of Anthony's remission from acute myelogenous leukemia. He celebrated 10 years yesterday, which I think amazes us all. God is good. My brother is such an important person in my life, and I am so thankful for his life and good health. I love watching him act as uncle to my children. He told me that the quantity of PEZ dispensers he has given (and continues to give) to my children will be the factor that sends us over the edge and out of our small house. I think the turning point will be the number of art projects the children produce. Yesterday Ev kept asking me where polar bears live. I told her they live outside in the snow. She made something at school, and after she made several more large, brown, double-sided ones here at home she remembered the word igloo. She plans to make one for each classmate and secretly place them into their book bags. She's really into igloo making. Seriously? Nobody ever could have convinced me I'd honestly write such a thing before I had children.

Vivian is such a little snuggle bug. When I hold her against my chest she tucks her legs up and burrows into my neck. Sometimes she'll even stick her thumb in her mouth and rest her baby head on my shoulder. It pains me to watch her get so close to a year. My baby is growing up, and I'm not ready for that. The pediatrician told me today to go ahead and feed her what we eat. We got home, and I fed her colby cheese, turkey, oyster crackers, fruit baby food, French toast, and Cheerios. She even had some cow's milk in her sippy cup. She's officially a big baby.

Henry is losing his baby ways. Today he told me, "Mom, I wiped off your kissy." No way. He can't be 2 1/2 and want to lose my kisses. It isn't happening. First, Olivia, and now Henry?! No. He gets my kissies!!! Luckily, I found a way to curb his pattern of wailing in his crib in the 5 o'clock hour. He did it for a week straight, and I was really having a hard time dealing with it in a calm fashion. I wanted to go outside and destroy a forrest like a T Rex I was so fired up. Nothing we could do (and Robbie did try) would consistently calm him down, and he was waking the whole house. Add an already tired mama to that mix, and the days didn't start off pretty.

During that stretch I had to use the words, "Son, we don't throw shoes at others," while we were in the grocery store!!! Yes, not only has he been taking off his shoes and socks and throwing them into four mysterious and separate spots in my vehicle, he did it in the store and threw them at the feet of a male customer. I about died. The man was cool about it. However, Henry lost his Halloween candy lollipop privilege for that one. That is a huge consequence for Master Henry, and I think he learned a lesson. I've also had to tell him, "We don't put our teeth on others." After his bath on Sunday he has secretly stored water in his mouth. As I dried him, he spewed it at my neck, and it went down the inside of my sweater all the way to my belly button. "Henry, we don't spit water at others." While I was getting ready for the day, I heard a terrible sound crashing down the wooden stairs into the basement. I heard no crying. I thought someone was unconscious, and I was terrified as I ran toward the scene with my jeans only halfway up. There was no child at the bottom of the stairs. Evelyn said, "Henry threw your sewing book down the stairs, Mom." It was over 300 pages and hardcover. You guessed it, "Henry, we don't throw books down the stairs."

This weekend we ran in the first ever 5K at our church. The temp was 26 when I turned on the t.v. in the morning. We searched for stocking caps and gloves and put on winter coats. Olivia ran with her daddy. She never stopped. She finished the race in 31 minutes 8 seconds, which made her faster than a lot of children her age and older, boys included. She's amazing. We were really impressed with her determination. I carried Vivian in the Ergo Carrier and pushed Henry as fast as my legs would go. Evelyn ran, then rested in the stroller. Henry started screaming at mile 1.5, and he never stopped until we passed the finish line (around 45 min.) and Robbie held him. He wanted out. He wanted me. He wanted Robbie. He then finally said, "Mommy, I dropped my mitten on the sidewalk." That was blocks and blocks ago. A rock band made up of some friends from church played outside the pancake breakfast, and it was fun and memorable. I bet we'll look back on the experience with laughter once our children are all old enough to run by themselves.

That will be the day. I bet we'll never find dried poop on the floor anymore when they can all run alone. At least I hope not! Henry pooped his Pull-up. Robbie didn't realize some of it fell off in the hall on the way to the tub, and it dried in the dark hallway overnight. In the morning, after I'd dealt with middle of the night issues and screaming in the morning, I found a huge pile of hard and smashed poop on the floor. Life is just ridiculous sometimes. We had to laugh when we realized what had happened.

I feel like a new woman. Last night nobody woke me up in the middle of the night, and I have energy and patience and extra happiness. See, I'm even writing again. The last week has been totally brutal. I go and go and do and do all day and evening, then the children have been slamming me repeatedly in the night with one issue or another. I thought I'd never catch up on my rest or the laundry. Speaking of that fine topic, it isn't going to fold itself. I told myself I'd take a little work break to blog, then off to the chores of my life.

"I'm not raising a clean house."

Pics:

The various looks of Henry.

Vivian can wave, and Henry is Spiderman.

Vivian wore a real hair bow for the first time on Sunday and again Monday.

This morning we went to playgroup at the home of a new friend. Her son is Henry's age. Her other son was Evelyn's age, but he died last December. This fact gives me great pause. As we got ready to go, I asked her what we could do to help clean up the toys. She told me she wasn't worried about it. "I'm not raising a clean house. I'm raising a little boy. It's fine." I like her philosophy, and I realize that she has reached it from a point from which few mothers come. I like this lady.

When I put Vivian to bed last night Henry asked to kiss her. Baby girl opened her mouth and gave Henry a big kiss on his cheek. He looked totally disgusted and downright appalled. He said, "She got me WET." He leaned down and wiped his slobbery cheek on his crib bumber. Vivian then kissed Olivia and Evelyn in the same manner, only they found it hilarious. I like those special kisses too.

As usual, before I left the side of Henry's bed I said, "God bless you, Henry." My sweet son said, "Where is God?" I said, "He's in your heart, Henry. God loves you." "Can I see him, Mommy?" "No honey, you can't see him. Just know he's in your heart." I think I'm lucky that he asked where and not who.

Last night when Olivia was the last child awake she decided to read her new prayer card to us. As she read it a thought struck her. She hopped off the couch, and said, "I'm going to sing it like a Religious Rock Star," and SHE DID. Robbie and I exchanged big smiles and watched our big girl sway and sing pop style to a Gaelic Poem.

Yesterday at Village Church as I unloaded Vivian from her infant carrier in the van, Henry asked to jump out of the van. I told him not to jump. He jumped. He caught his foot on my leg, and he face planted in the parking lot. You can see the scrapes on his poor nose in the photos above. Before playgroup today, Henry said he wanted to dress up in a ballerina costume. Evelyn helped him, and I took his picture this time. A bit later we figured out that he could still squeeze his fat feet into his old snow boots that are two sizes too small. He added the hat, and that was phase two. Robbie will be happy to learn that when he entered the house of our playgroup our son was dressed in two layers of firefighter clothes. Henry calls himself a Fiya Fight-uh. He also keeps saying, "Look at my face. I tell you some fang (something)."

As I nursed Vivian at 5:15 am this morning, Henry woke up and began talking to me nonstop. He asked me if baby dogs play soccer. He then asked me if dolphins play soccer. He asked me how he can play soccer. I asked him to please stop talking while I nursed baby sis. He and the baby went back to sleep, and I took a shower sometime later. I got out and heard Henry crying and yelling for me. I entered his room naked with the intention of just getting him out of his room before he further bothered Vivian. It was pitch black dark in his room, but a light was on in my bedroom. I guess he could see me. He took one look at me and said, "You go get dressed. You ALL naked." I laughed, turned, left his room, dressed, and returned. He had not forgotten. "You were all NAKED, Mommy."

Sometimes I think I share too many details with my children. I have told Henry that he grew in my belly when he was a tiny baby. I tell him that he used to be little like Vivian, and he used to nurse like Vivian does now. One day he said, "I grew in your belly. You pushed me out your butt." I burst out laughing and said, "No, no." Before I could finish, he said, "You pushed me out your boobies." This got a similar response from me, then he said, "You pushed me out your body." I do remember telling him something about how he was once in my belly, and then he was born. I think I said, "I pushed you out of my body, and you were born." He remembered.

Finally, I had a scary discovery with Vivian right before bed last night. Robbie was gone, so I was trying to clean the kitchen, make lunches, bathe Henry and the girls, and get everyone ready for bed. Vivian will sit and play in the middle of the living room floor with toys between her legs. She doesn't fall over too often, so she doesn't roll all over the place when I set her up like that. She'd been playing with the girls nearby, and I kept calling, "Is the baby okay?" This went on for a good bit of time as I did all that I listed above. Once it was Vivian's turn to get undressed for her bath, I tickled her on her changing table. I saw something white in her mouth, and I thought it was facial tissue. I swiped it out, and it was an oval-shaped piece of plastic from a grocery bag. I almost burst into tears. I constantly harp about choking hazards and their danger to baby Vivian. I had 15 sacks on the floor of the kitchen that I hadn't ever folded from the early afternoon grocery shopping trip. A little piece from the handle must have done a static cling number to one of us, and we tracked it into Vivian's area. She loves to pick up tiny things. Thank you God that she's okay. That was not good.

Finally, I really have an appreciation for military wives/husbands and single parents. Robbie had grand rounds and a journal club meeting last night, so he got home at my bedtime. It is now 9:35 pm, and he was home for all of about 12 minutes this evening before he had to leave for a 7 pm meeting. It was a LONG, hard afternoon with the children. We didn't do a lot of laughing, is how I'll put it. Their naps overlapped terribly, and there was a lot of crying...from the children, not me. Really, I only felt like crying. I felt like I was hanging on by a thread, yet hubby didn't come home and didn't come home. He also wisely didn't answer his phone. A friend told me that her husband was gone all of last week, and she had a hard time with her three and the youngest's tantrums. Henry has been doing his fair share of throwing himself on the floor and freaking out over candy, warm milk, specific sippy cups, clothing and shoe requests that I don't always honor. In any event, I really love my husband. I enjoy his company. I love hearing the words, "I'm headed home." I appreciate his active daddy role, and I'm glad I get to share this whirlwind childrearing experience with him. I found a good one in Robbie O. I hope he is on board with the "not raising a clean house" philosophy. I try to do a toy and clutter cleaning sweep before he gets home from work, but sometimes our house just looks like we live in it...and live in it we do.

My Son the Ballerina

Henry is a trip. This weekend Evelyn thought it would be hilarious, which it totally was, to dress her little brother in a pale blue, velour, ballet leotard with attached skirt. It also sparkled all over. He came running out to show us, and Ev had put it on backwards. His little nipples showed. Robbie and I had just had a conversation about how Robbie did NOT want Henry wearing the old princess and fairies Pull-Ups that I found in the girls' closet. "He wears enough of that kind of thing as it is, and I don't want him wearing those." I was shocked. I thought I was about to win some points for saving money on a box of paper products that Henry would #1 and #2 into, but Robbie would not budge. No fairy Pull-Ups for Henry! Period. Today, after I took Olivia and Evelyn to gymnastics, Henry announced that he wanted to go to Beller for gymnastics and ballet too. Mind you, today he threw a major temper tantrum over not being allowed to wear his Spiderman PJ top all day, and he has the giant Spiderman slippers on in his crib right now. He's all boy, but he understands girls. He'll do well in life. At MOPS today he gave baby Abby (Nada's daughter) about 15 kisses. He heard me enter the nursery to feed Vivian this morning, and he said, "Mommy, that you? You come back? (He was upset last night that I planned to leave the house to go to book club at his bedtime.) YAY!!!! I so happy, Mommy. I love you so much, no matter what. You soooo pretty." He amazes me with his sweetness.

Vivian has been waving, and I LOVE it. The ladies at MOPPETS today told me that they think she is so beautiful. That's music to a mama's ears. Vivian now sits and plays with little toys that I place in front of her in the living room. Henry is very careful around her, and I'm proud of him for it. Baby has been eating her weight in Cheerios. She grabs them with such intention. I love her thighs. I can't get enough of her fat rolls. They are precious and adorable. She's really been making eyes at Robbie lately. She gets excited when she sees him. She makes him light up, then I light up, and we're all smiling.

Evelyn received her first preschool progress report Friday, and we celebrated her success with sausage and pepperoni pizza. We even had Pepsi. Her teachers wrote the most wonderful comments about little Evelyn, and we were so happy for her. Her academic notes were super too.

Olivia had soccer on Saturday, and she got all embarrassed when I tried to kiss her before I sent her off toward the field. I about died of shock. She's only seven. I'm supposed to still be her sun and moon, not mortify her in public. We talked about it at dinner, and she prefers I kiss her in our van. I agreed, and I thanked her for honestly sharing her feelings with me. I told her that allows me to show my respect for her wishes and help her feel comfortable. However, when she pulled back at the parking lot's edge on Saturday I squealed and chased her down, grabbed her, tickled her, and attacked her with kisses all over her pretty little face. We laughed so hard. Evelyn chased after us.

Olivia isn't a milk lover like my other three. She gave me all sorts of trouble at dinner last night when I put her glass before her, and I explained it was my job to keep her healthy. "Milk is good for your bones. Who wants to be a little old lady with a hunched over back who falls and breaks her bones?" Henry raised his hand. We erupted in laughter. You know, as I share these parts of my days with you grandparents and any other readers, it dawns on me in a delightful way that there is a good amount of laughter in our house. I have many crazy moments of frustration too, but I hope my children grow up to remember the love and laughter.

Come On, Vogue

I love this mommy gig. Sometimes their crying and emotional swings are trying, but the rewards are worth every bit of challenge. Yesterday, little 8-month-old Vivian tried to copy me as I sang Edelweiss to her as I diapered her darling bottom. She raised and lowered her voice and made beautiful baby noises. I was in love. Today on our way home from school Madonna's Vogue played on the radio. I told Evelyn that my squad did a dance to the song in high school, and I showed her some moves. This was a sensational morning as far as Kansas weather is concerned, which always boosts my mood. I turned up the volume, sang my heart out, threw in Vogue moves (you remember, you frame your face with your hands), and laughed as Henry and Evelyn stared at me totally spellbound and motionless. They clearly did not know what to think of Mommy's re-enactment. I, however, felt joy in my heart. Music is so powerful. I may not know one bit about the latest musicians, but I know every word to my kids' Vacation Bible Camp CD. The messages in it are beautiful for my children to hear. God loves us. That's a much better message than Rock Star with a great beat, but terrible words..."The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap. We'll all stay skinny, cause we just won't eat." I had to turn that one off with my three young ones in my vehicle.

Henry just came to me with a very small tennis shoe which goes to his sister's cheerleader Build A Bear (a gift from Grandpa Overlease). "Put this on me," he said. He has on his cousin's old Spiderman PJ top with matching slippers. The slippers have a huge stuffed Spiderman head on the top of each foot, and Henry LOVES them. He wants to take them to playgroup this morning to show his boy buds. He calls the super hero, "Pider MAN!" Henry also calls apple cider "apple pider". He's such an easy little guy to love. He has still been telling me that I'm so pretty. I'm a lucky mama to hear such words from a 2-year-old, a boy no less.

No Matter What

My young son listens. He often hears my discussions with his big sisters about their misbehavior and my unconditional love. Our talks go something like, "I know you made a mistake, and I forgive you. I always love you, no matter what." We hug and go on about our business. Henry has taken note of this exchange. Robbie and I discovered that on separate occasions after Henry got into some trouble we told him we love him, and before we could continue he said, "No matter what." He has been saying it with emphasis lately, and the words make my heart sing.

On a recent walk on a day off school Olivia and Evelyn saw a large dog on a leash attack and kill a squirrel. It was quite awful. Olivia was sobbing, and she asked me why the animal's arms and legs shook before it died. My heart broke. She has such a tender heart and an amazing ability to empathize. That's one of the qualities I love most about my sweet Olivia. I don't think Miss Evelyn gave a rip about the squirrel. She said little. Olivia talked about it again and again, and I don't think she'll soon forget what she witnessed. Later in that walk I told her how a political sign had again appeared in our yard without my consent. I was mad about it. I told her somebody was going to get an ear full if they called me anytime soon. She asked, "Are you going to call the Pope or the President?"

Henry is obsessed with some of Olivia's clothing items. His favorites include her soccer jersey, her big cleats, and a navy Ralph Lauren cotton skirt. He had a terrible fit over wanting to wear Olivia's school plaid jumper, and I said, "No." He put on a blue fairy costume, wore the headband, and announced, "I'm a bee!"

Baby Vivian has decided to exert her opinion. God help me. The baby is in love with fruit puffs and Cheerios. They are like Baby Cheetos to her, and she WANTS them. She also wants MORE of them! She will scream during dinner when I try to spoon feed baby food into her little mouth, then she'll immediately calm if I shake the fruit puffs can in front of her. She knows what she wants, and she has been telling me LOUDLY. And, here we go...

It dawned on me that my girls have never watched our wedding video, so we remedied that last night. Evelyn wanted Henry to watch it with her today, and they sat through a full Catholic mass and watched the reception too. Evelyn got very upset with Henry for saying he wanted to marry Daddy. "He ALREADY married Mommy, Henry. He can't marry you!!" She is so forceful with him sometimes. I sometimes cringe as I hear my own tone in her young voice. The girls told me how beautiful I looked, and they laughed when Robbie said a few different things on camera. It was really neat for them to hear our friends talk about us. My sweet friend Kara said some wonderful words about me that I think really made the girls perk up. Thank you, Kara, for that special story.

I Want To See God

Robbie is unavailable all weekend, so it is absurd that I had it in my head that my lovely children would actually sleep in this Saturday. Henry called to me from his crib at 6 am sharp, and he needed to potty. He'd peed out of his diaper onto his PJs and all over his bedding, so I had to give him a shower and change sheets. That woke Vivian. Evelyn got up with more diarrhea, and she turned on the light, which woke Olivia. She was up late at Kenna's birthday party, so she was tired this morning. And, there you have it. We were all awake.

As I made warm milk and prepared some breakfast, I heard Olivia tell Henry that Robbie was learning about Jesus today at our church. She said in the sweetest voice and with total seriousness, "Mommy almost named you Jesus." I burst out laughing and called her on it. She said, "You did!" I don't know what she remembers. Henry has been Henry since before we had Olivia.

Henry noticed the crucifix in our room which was given to us by Aunt Corrine and Uncle Lee during our year in OKC. Henry now says, "I want to see God." I'll walk him over to the wall where the cross hangs, and Henry will say, "His eyes are closed. I can't see him. Is he sleeping?" Wow, that is a big question. I said, "Yes." I told him that Jesus died for us so that we can go to Heaven someday. You guessed it. He said, "What's Heaven?" I honestly started to tell him that in Heaven he could have Olivia's soccer jersey and cleats every day. That's his heart's desire these days (and the terrible source of BIG old temper tantrums), and isn't that what we hope Heaven will offer, among other things? I told him it was a very good place where Henry could be with Jesus, and I left it at that.

We enjoyed gorgeously cool and sunny fall weather for Olivia's soccer game at 11 am. I packed lunches, and we dined field-side on our beach blanket. It was lovely. We sat with our friends the Conways, and Henry played with the twins while Amy and I had a really nice conversation of substance. That's rare with two-year-olds nearby, so I felt blessed at the chance to make a connection with another adult.

We were naturally out of milk, so I had to take all four children grocery shopping. The store was having a huge meat sale, which I found quite amusing. Does that mean the meat is really big or all of it is on sale? Hmmm? A quick stop for milk and bananas turned into food for the week and donuts and Shatto chocolate milk for tomorrow's breakfast. The kids scored. However, I had too many bags of groceries to tote and unload, tired and hungry kids, and only two seats in the car cart. Olivia got really upset. The baby was in the Ergo Carrier, happy enough. Once we got into the car and passed by Cure', Olivia began crying loudly and wailing for her father. "I want my father. I love my father more than anyone else loves him, and I want him back NOW." She went on and on, and cried for 10 minutes. I finally told her the crying would have to end, or she's receive a consequence for not pulling herself together and giving the rest of us some peace. Henry said, "Yaya is very upset. Oh, sis. You okay?" He's a sweet one.

Now that October is here the girls are all about decorating for Halloween. We got out the big orange tub...after MUCH asking. I was hesitant. Our little house has so much stuff in it already that holiday decorations kind of cause me some physical distress. I was picking up toys and tidying things as the children got into the tub and started pulling out pumpkins that glow and window clings. I heard a crash, looked down, and Henry had dropped a one of a kind, hand-painted plate that Gwen made for us. It was one of my very favorite things from her, and my heart just fell. I was furious with myself for not overseeing the removal of decorations. I was on the phone with Mrs. Scarboro trying to figure out babysitting next week for Olivia's baptismal renewal for the start of this special 2nd grade sacrament year. Vivian was fussying. I was trying to multi-task too much, and a price was paid. I know it was only a thing that broke, but is was a very special and treasured material object. I'm so sad. I swooped Henry into his crib for time-out so that I could have my own personal mommy time-out. When I went back to my crying and sad son I asked him if he knew why he was in trouble. "I broke Ninnie's plate." I told him I love him. I will always love him. I forgive him. Then I explained why he should not have been messing around with Mommy's Halloween things. He apologized.

Evelyn has had terrible tummy trouble since Thursday night, and I just keep waiting for her to feel better. They all took a good long nap today. I let the girls stay up late with me tonight, and we looked through an old photo album from when Robbie and I were falling in love at TU in college. He had longer hair, and Olivia said, "Daddy looks much better now." We saw pictures of little William Hightower when he was Henry's age, and I told them the story that went with a photo of the two of us in a baby pool. He pointed to my chest and said, "What's that?" I said, "That's my bikini." He said very slowly, "Mommy doesn't have a boo-kini." I'll never forget that exchange. The girls fell over into giggles.

Well, it is time for me to enjoy some Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet reading time. I have to hand it to single parents and those with a spouse in the military who are left to raise their children alone. I am so thankful for the help that my fabulous husband offers to our family. He does so much, and I appreciate it tremendously. I feel the strain when he isn't around to do his thing, and I love him even more. Robbie O. is a keeper.

Oh, Vivian is cutting bottom teeth. She also isn't wild about peas. They make her cry. I think poopy diapers and peas are her sad points today. Her high point, of course, is booby milk. It makes her happy and healthy and chubby and smart. Life is good.

Wine in the Diaper Bag

Last night I attended an evening for moms called Dips and Drinks. As I left my car and walked to the building it dawned on me that I was carrying a bottle of wine in my diaper bag. This struck me as quite humorous. I guess I needed five extra minutes at home to switch to a proper purse, but after making lunches for Robbie and Olivia I was already 25 minutes late. I enjoyed a glass of red, had nice conversations, and returned to find Robbie asleep on our bed with an old glaucoma study guide on his chest. This brought back many memories from fellowship year in Oklahoma when he studied so much before board exams. His ophtho books were like sleeping pills for him. I watched my darling husband sleep, and I thought about how far we've come. Now he's about to write a test for the residents he will teach, and I'm so happy for him.

The baby woke up making all kinds of talking sounds. She was chattering away happily. She's been stringing Da and Ma, and I love this phase. She's such a happy baby girl. I love how plump she is, and I attack her underarms and cheeks with kisses. She squeals, and grabs my face. I love that her happiest faces are the ones she shows her mommy. What a treat.

Today Olivia returned from school with an art project made out of some kind of dough. Before any of us knew what was happening Henry grabbed part of her mountain and ate it. He then started spitting, and Olivia said, "He ate my art project. It had GLUE on it. He just ate glue!!" I laughed and caught the chewed up black dough. Only Henry could get into mischief that quickly.

In our van this morning he climbed to my area and got Chapstick. He smeared it all over his upper and lower lips, and THEN SOME. He looked like he had a clown mouth. When I told him I thought he had enough Chapstick, he put some on the tip of his nose. It was cherry, so he was tinted red. Silly boy.

He's so funny at dinner. When he makes the sign of the cross he moves his hand from shoulder to shoulder as fast as he can about six times in a row. He looks like some kind of baseball coach giving hand signs to a batter. I'm sure God smiles as Henry prays before meals.

After school drop off I met a friend at her house at 8 am for a walk in the brisk morning air. Vivian was strapped to my chest, and she kept looking up at the trees overhead. She was so cute. Her eyes got heavy, and she fell asleep against me. I'm so in love with her. Later, Emily and I enjoyed a gorgeous fall day at the helicopter park. We had it to ourselves for a good long while. The babies smiled at each other. We chatted and watched Evelyn, Henry, and Josie play well together. Evelyn decided to swing, and she pumped her legs and soared toward the sky. The sun was in her golden hair, and her face looked so happy. She was a picture perfect child on a swing. It was so special to share that time with our friends, and I'm so thankful to be home with my children and able to enjoy them like that.

Today we celebrated the anniversary of Olivia's baptism. We learned after a recent homework assignment last week that the date was approaching, and she requested a special dinner and dessert on the 28th. She's been asking me to have Kenna over for dinner for three weeks now, so we finally did it. We had a lovely evening. The kids played outside after dinner, then came in to play Wii Just Dance. They looked so cute with their moves.

Love Is the Most Important Thing

We have a routine in our family where the children share their school day high and low points once we reunite. I love listening to them share things about the time we spent apart. Sometimes Robbie and I share ours over the dinner meal, and the children enjoy listening. To prove that Henry listens to all that goes on in our house and vehicle, I have a story. We recently put Henry into Children's Church. This gives us time to go to mass while he interacts with other children his age, hears a bible story, and plays. We really, really like Children's Church. We're all about it! Now, the flip side this peace brings is that I must lead Children's Church as a parent volunteer several times a year. Sunday was my first day, and the other mom and I barely survived. We had 13 one and two-year-olds, and several cried....all at once, then stopped, then took turns for over an hour. It was AWESOME!!!!!! That's another story. My story today is about my first reunion with Henry after he was in that room recently. I said, "Did you have a wonderful morning?" He said, "I tell you my high point?!" Be still my heart. He wanted to be like his big sisters and share news about his day. However, he responded, "I not like Children's Church. I cry for my mommy." I told him that was his low point. He then said he got to play with cars, and we talked about how fun that must have been.

Two weekends ago I went on a Girl Scout overnight with Olivia. We slept in cabins, and there were 16 girls and about 9 moms. It was really fun. I loved watching my daughter interact with her peers, and I felt so proud of her for the way she conducted herself. Olivia is a good little girl. After dinner she ran up to me and whispered some outrageous news. "Mommy, the girls are lined up behind our cabin, and they are looking at a man take a shower....NAKED. They're using binoculars." I trotted right over there and found about 9 girls lined up for a turn at spying. We discussed the reason the activity was wrong...his privacy was being invaded, and the binoculars were put into safe keeping. They are seven and eight!!!!

Over the weekend Robbie watched a lot of football. At one point he called out, "Come on!! Are you kidding me?" Henry copied him and said, "Come on!! Are you kidding me, football guys?" We exchanged sweet smiles. Luckily, appropriate language abounds in our home.

Finally, this morning at 4 am Miss Vivian woke up hungry. She got off schedule with her nursing and solid food meal last night, and I knew that would happen. I rocked her and nursed her, and Henry stood up in his bed. He whimpered ever so softly, but he didn't say anything. He stood and stood and waited. After almost 20 minutes I finished feeding baby and carried her to Henry for a kiss. He kissed her silently, and I put her into her bed. I went back to Henry's crib, and he whispered, "I need to go to the potty." I took him to my dim bathroom, and I complimented him on how sweet he had been to baby Vivian by staying quiet and waiting patiently. I said, "You're such a nice little boy, thank you, Henry." He said so incredibly softly and sweetly, "You're welcome, Mommy." He pottied, and then he went right back to his bed, snuggled into position with Elmo and teddy, and went back to sleep. That was one of those amazing child-parent moments when you have the perfect interaction. What a treasure.

The girls and I are reading Abel's Island. It is a story of a mouse who gets swept away during a hurricane, and it has great vocabulary and beautiful descriptions. We're enjoying it. I love how we snuggle together in my bed as we read at night. However, last night the word defecate was used by the proper mouse, and this sent the girls into giggles. On our way to school I reinforced the fact that their teachers would not be impressed with their use of intelligent potty talk, since it was still potty talk. They giggled some more. I love taking the opportunity to stop while reading and say, "Do you know what that means?" However, never before has my answer been, "That is a fancy word for poop or bowel movement." That D word is not in Fancy Nancy's ABC book.

Finally, today I had the pleasure of hearing a great speaker, Debi Stack, at Mothers of Preschoolers. She seemed to have written her talk for me alone, and I really enjoyed it. Here are a few points to ponder...

- Every day is brand new with no mistakes in it.

- Love is the most important thing.

- This time in my life as a mother of young children is one in which I will have the highest expectations for myself, yet likely experience my lowest productivity.

-Don't rake up ways the children fell short. Avoid the tendency to overcorrect, and focus on positive affirmation of what they do right.

- If I want these things for my children...patience, respectfulness, compassion, faith, humor, joy, confidence, good health, generosity, happiness....then I need to have them. One can't give what one doesn't have.

Vivian just woke up. Her cries come first. More blog later...

Want What You've Got

"It's not having what you want. It's wanting what you've got."

Yesterday as I drove with the children, Sheryl Crow's fun song, "Soak Up the Sun" played on the radio. I cranked up the volume, sang loudly to the children, and reflected on the line above. I think God was winking at me. We have a very little house, but it is a cozy home to our family of six. I think we are going to be in it for more than a few years ahead. My closest friend and neighbor gave me a shock last week when she said they plan to move. I'm quite heartbroken. Our families have grown together. I've walked with my friend for too many miles to count over the last six years. We've shared eggs and cans of tomatoes and baby equipment. More importantly, we've listened with our hearts and provided validation about the challenges of mothering. I just can't imagine making my little house "work" with my four children without my dear friend across the yard. Big bummer.

What I love...

I love that my children bundled up on this crisp morning to play outside. I loved looking out the window and spying their three little tushes side-by-side on a wooden stool made by my father. They were eating bananas. They looked adorable.

I love the crazy scale difference between baby Vivian's chubby thighs and her extra small feet. Olivia commented on it lovingly just this week.

I love that my kind neighbor made four matching crocheted hats for us girls before our photography session last weekend.

I love that Olivia, Evelyn, and their friend Grace call a male biker who we see on our way to school most mornings, "School Handsome." He is kind of handsome. He wears a postal service uniform, and he pedals really fast. We laugh each time we see him.

I love that I'm finished with my major Mothers of Young Children enrollment and directory project, and that I have my darling husband to thank for his contribution to improving the way it was made. He took over care of our children and dinner prep two weekends ago while I slaved away on the computer for hours on end all weekend long. He took part of his Friday afternoon off to print and copy my master set of directory pages so that they'd be ready for me to turn into a booklet in the church office. He's amazing, and he's the biggest blessing in my life. From our love we have our children, another incredible blessing of joy. I recently read Loving Frank about Mamah Cheney's relationship with Frank Lloyd Wright. She was married and left her children in order to seek her heart's true love. As I read I kept thinking that I was so fortunate to have married a man as good as Robbie. I want nothing to do with the trials Mamah experienced on her journey for love and happiness. That story ended horribly!

I love that Henry has pooped the last five consecutive times he has sat on the potty. I even love that this morning when he pooped his "baseball panties", stepped in the mess with his sock, fell over and rubbed his poop butt on my arm, then stepped on the rug, that I could laugh!!

I love that my family and friends supported the girls' magazine sale at school so that Ev could win a motion detector alarm that blares with a siren. A man's voice says, "Warning! Warning! Security Alert. You are entering a restricted area. Repeat. You are entering a restricted area. Touch nothing. Turn around and walk out. Please leave now. Repeat. Leave NOW! All your moves are being watched. The authorities have been notified." The best part is that Henry and Evelyn thought the guy was saying, "Good morning! Good morning!" Olivia and I laughed so hard about their misunderstanding. We could have used the alarm recently...

The other day as I made dinner I heard Robbie's voice go up as he said, "Henry, What are you doing!" Henry is obsessed with "Yaya's cleats". They are size 13, and he's 2 years old, so you can imagine the clown shoes look he sports when he clops around in them. Robbie found Henry with Olivia's top bunk bed ladder. He had moved it across the room, leaned it into the closet, and he had climbed to the top rung. He was reaching toward the top shelf to get the Nike box with the much coveted cleats. Robbie said the ladder was suspended by one hanger. God help Henry. He was on the top step. He is too busy.

The other night my son called to me seconds after I'd tucked him into his bed and said he had to go poopy. Mind you, he'd taken a potty break right before bedtime, and he only peed. We'd been through this the night before, and he did it at naptime too. Stalling. That's exactly what my smart son was doing. After I told him he'd already had his chance to potty, he began screaming. I complained to Olivia, and she said, "Well, Mommy. You know why he's doing that, don't you? You let him get out of bed once to try to poopy again, so now he thinks you'll do it again." Smarty pants. He also learned that M&Ms are the reward for potty success. However, now that he has mastered control in the pee pee area I have changed the reward for #2 alone. This made him mad. He called to me around 5 am last week. In the darkness he said, "I need to go pee pee." I took him. He then said, "I want MM." Naturally, I explained that M&Ms are only for poopy. He started screaming, "I want MM! I want MM!! I want MM!!!" I hope my consistency works in my favor when I don't yield to screaming youngsters making demands for chocolate in the wee hours of the morning.

I love that Evelyn made a book and wrote a story for her friend. The title was Anna Who Let Out the Peanut. The witching hour has become quite challenging, as if it weren't before. The baby was crying. Henry was into the cupboard pantry. Evelyn was calling out, "How do you spell Anna?" "How do you spell peanut?" "What does a p look like?"...and on and on for a whole book. I was trying to cook dinner, and Olivia was asking about her math homework. That was one of those top of the curve moments when I want to pull out my hair or take a mommy time out. Thank goodness life cycles, and we have plenty of lovely moments.

I love reading to my children curled up in our favorite chair. Their hair smells fresh and wonderful from bathtime, and I could just smother them with kisses. Henry will say to me, "You want to read with me?" Of course!

I think it is time for mama to get some fresh air and enjoy a long walk. Hopefully, Emily can join me.

Roadtrip

What do a green grass skirt, soccer shin guards, a baseball cap, and soccer cleats 5 years too large (on the wrong feet) all have in common? Henry. He's a mess with his outfits. This morning I decided to let him try to wear his baseball undies instead of a diaper. Just as Robbie announced that our wonderful breakfast was ready, Henry said, "I poopied." I looked down, and it was even on his socks. Honestly, that was the most outrageous poopy pants disaster that I have ever experienced in my seven years of parenting. He's not even 2 1/2. Maybe we need to wait a good long while before we try real undies again.

Robbie was so helpful today. I'm up to my ears in paperwork for Mothers of Young Children enrollment. Our group is over 100 women strong, and I have a big job going on right now. Robbie took over with our children to allow me to work on it the entire day. God bless him. He said that Henry stood outside our back door yelling, "Mommmy!!!" When Robbie opened the door Henry was without a diaper. I put him straight into shorts and a belt to solve that problem when he did it again later in the living room.

New tricks...Olivia is reading with beautiful fluency. She had her first soccer game today. Evelyn's printing is better than Uncle Anthony's, and it is small for a 4-year-old. She said, "I don't know why they (her classmates) write so HUGE!" Today she used little letter magnets to try to spell words independently. Vivian can roll, roll, roll. She also only wants me. Not even Daddy will do. She wants me. Henry is very in tune with all of my mothering roles. Sometimes he'll ask me, "Did you nurse her on that side?" as he points to one breast. The two share a room, and he is happy when I nurse the baby in the glider while he talks to me nonstop about Lightning McQueen and Sally. He's a verbal little guy.

We stayed in the Hotel Bothwell recently, and all four children shared a room of the family suite. Henry talked and talked to his big sisters when he was supposed to be falling asleep. The next morning as I French braided Olivia's hair he jumped off the bed head first and backwards. I caught him upside down by the ankle. Later, I loaded Vivian into the sling and put all of our luggage on a cart. Robbie was at work, so the girls pushed the cart while I held onto Henry. We had to go through the hotel, down an elevator, outside, down the sidewalk, and up into a parking lot toward the van. We got stuck. I couldn't manage it all, so I was thrilled when a woman appeared and answered my call for help. Our trip to Illinois went well. The first leg was tough because Henry stated over and over and OVER and OVER that he wanted to see cows and horses. He did this for 90 straight minutes, and I almost couldn't stand it. Leg two was better. All of the children fell asleep, and Robbie and I got to enjoy grown up conversation. The purpose of our trip was my father's Vintage Times Street Rod Club car show at Lincoln Park in Springfield, IL. He put my children in the back of his 1937 Studebaker coupe. Henry sat on his cousin's pink potty chair, because my little brother posed for a similar picture in the early 80s. Anthony actually surprised all of us by flying in from Dallas the night before the car show unexpectedly. My trustworthy husband knew, and he didn't tell. Dad and I were thrilled to see Anthony, and my children attacked him with running hugs.

Vivian and Henry slept in the room with my brother's turtle. Anthony won it when he was 2 years old. Tommy is still kicking. Anthony will soon turn 30. The turtle knocks around in his aquarium, and Henry would say, "I don't want to see the turtle's eyes!!!" We often heard through the monitor, "Ka-CHOW!!" That is what the main car says in the movie Cars. Henry always makes us laugh.

Princess Henry

Quote of the day: Henry was convinced by his sister Evelyn to put on a pink ballet skirt. He told me numerous times, "I a princess." He wore it for quite a while and kept it on during his nap. When he awoke, I entered his room and said, "What are you doing? Boys don't wear skirts." He smiled and said, "Yes, Henry does." Robbie got home early and found Henry in his princess attire. He promptly took him for a haircut, and Henry wore shorts to the barber shop.

Henry has been really trying to work it with me when he gets into trouble. After I scold him, he'll say, "Oh, Mommy. You are SOOO pretty. You are not so mean. You pretty!" He even cocks his head to the side in an attempt to look extra adorable. He's easy to love.

Robbie is easy to love too. Last week he announced plans to use Grandma Gloria's recipes for homemade spaghetti sauce and meatballs. He spent all of Friday afternoon cooking. Saturday he got up and began baking Uncle Lee's recipe for homemade bread. We had a feast that night, and he saved dough for Sunday's homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella. I felt like I'd won the husband lottery all over again! His food was wonderful, and I got a break. I'm one lucky woman.

Henry still sits on the potty and takes care of business from time to time. The girls are very interested in his successes since they often receive M&Ms when Henry produces. The other night Henry lifted his unmentionable, and Evelyn got a good look at the little hole down there. She said, "Is that where his pee comes out...and his poop?" Olivia and I almost died laughing.

Speaking of laughter, I just heard an outburst, and now Vivian is screaming. She's been asleep for over an hour. Poor little baby girl. I'm off...

Cicada Terror!!!!!!!!!!

I have been awake since 3:56 am when Henry screamed bloody murder from his crib. I ran in there, hoping he wouldn't wake the whole house, and I still don't know what was wrong. I changed his diaper and held him as I patted his back. He went right back down, but I am AWAKE.

It has been a long and hard couple of days with the Overlease children, and I haven't been able to find time to write. My "to do" list has been too long to allow for writing. I went to bed at 11 pm with clean laundry all over the living room...unfolded and folded. I stayed up late to work on a "Julie shirt" (as the Finlason girls call my creations) for the little Lucy who started this blog. Rather, Evelyn chopping off Lucy's long locks while playing salon back in May started this blog. At any rate I really like Lucy and her mother, and I decided to make her a cute little shirt for her birthday party today. I think they'll like it. Ev gets to attend a princess party.

Okay, so a couple of days ago I decided to spend the morning playing Academy de Julia, aka Mommy School, with my kids. The blueberries were a steal at the store, my kids' favorite, so the math/science cooking lesson involved making Lemon-Blueberry Muffins with Lemon Glaze. This is the recipe which the girls used to win 3rd place in the Holy Smokes Kids Bake-Off this summer. They are goooood muffins. Right from the start the girls absolutely would not stop fighting. They argued about who was going to do each and every task to "help" me. "I want to crack that egg." "It is my turn to dump the measuring cup." "Move, you're crowding me!" "Let me hold the mixer," and on and on and on it went until Henry entered the picture. We put an Elmo library DVD on for Henry, and he entertained himself by crawling on the couch cushions and pushing cars around the floor for a spell. However, it took him all of about 10 seconds to climb up onto the chairs with his sisters and wield the longest and most ominous looking knife from the knife block. Olivia screamed. I looked up from my recipe and about died. Evelyn tried to get away, and Henry pointed the knife away from himself with his arm straight out in front of him. Seriously?! Olivia yelled, "Henry almost killed me!" I took the knife and explained, "NO, NO, NO!! Knives can hurt Henry." We all survived, including Vivian. She was being held in my Hotsling during all of this. She sucks her thumb, plays with her toes, and takes in all of the entertainment. There is a lot of entertainment around here. If you're bored, then have four small children. That will cure you.

The muffins were super yummy (See Henry as proof.), and we followed our baking with reading time. Evelyn had gotten into a string of trouble. I removed her from her time-out spot and put her on my lap on the couch with the other children for a story. We're getting ready for preschool, so I pointed to the first letter of the title to indicate that I wished for her to state the letter. She was mad and pouty, an unfortunate and common theme as of late. She protested. I persisted. Finally, she started loudly naming off the letters in a story entitled, "Mama Loves You." How ironic. Her voice was cranky, and she shot each letter at me. God help me.

Gym, as Olivia calls P.E., was the most fun. We turned on the iPod and rocked out to songs from the Lambda Chi Alpha party songs playlist that Robbie made for us. Henry got to do his back and forth shoulder dance to YMCA. We jumped and jumped and jumped to Jump Around. The girls each said, "I'm getting sweaty." Olivia asked me why my boobs bounce when I jump. Oh, gosh. What's a nursing mom to say? We burned some steam, laughed a lot, and had fun. While I showered, Vivian napped, and Henry got his sometimes daily dose of Barney ABCs, the girls played Store. They shopped for fake food and DVDs, placed the items in a miniature and real metal shopping cart, itemized and priced them on a list, and used a cash register to ring the total. This activity brought with it a fair amount of screaming on Evelyn's part, but they had to work it out themselves. They played tag at recess and ate a picnic outside for lunch. The relief of naptime is always welcome in our house. Olivia and I snuggled up on the couch and each read our respective chapter books together. I loved it. The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton is really, really fun to read. I recommend it, and I hope to complete it today.

Yesterday the fighting began again, and I couldn't take it. The thought actually went through my head, "I am going to go nuts. Robbie has to come home right now! Wait, Robbie is in Sedalia. I'm stuck alone with them. Ahhhhhhh!" I think that crossed my mind around 8 am. My solution was to kick everybody out of the house. I told Olivia and Evelyn to put on their running shoes. I packed water for all. I strapped Vivian to my chest, and we went outside for a walk. Our walks always refresh our bodies and MY mind. The girls were both on foot, which was a first. I told them how I carried Olivia every morning of her first summer in Milwaukee seven years ago. Now she's a walking and talking school girl, and I welcome the walking company and companionship. So special. I often imagine the days ahead when I walk with my daughters and listen to their thoughts on life and love. They aren't far away.

The morning was beautiful...lovely sky, gentle breeze, and a slight break from the heat of summer. However, the cicadas were humming. They are humming now, and I can hear them while I'm writing in my basement at 5:20 am. All was well until the girls noticed them about a mile from home. Our route is 3+ miles, mind you. I explained how the cicadas leave behind a shell. Olivia related it to snakes shedding skin. We talked about molting. This was fine until we saw a live one. Then we heard it vibrate its wings. Then we came upon a handful of shells in a single sidewalk square. Evelyn froze and ended up 10 feet behind us. She threw her body onto her toes with her arms in the air Michael Jackson style, and began to whimper. I went to her, held her hand, and helped her navigate through the cicada shell laden path. Olivia then began to notice that the shells her EV-ER-Y-WHERE...no joke. She flipped out. She cried. She screamed. She asked me to carrry her. She really did. Her face showed utter terror, and I couldn't rationalize with her. "The shells are empty. Nothing will hurt you. I'll hold your hand. Please stop screaming. You're scaring Vivian." She freaked out for the duration of the three longest blocks of my life, and there were cicada shells everywhere. It was so gross and thick in some places that it was hard to step without crunching one, and my stroller wheels could not always avoid them. A passerby on foot stared at us, and I simply smiled and responded, "Cicada terror. What can I say?" Evelyn was pretty good through all of this. She was nervous, but she rose to the occasion. I was impressed. I never liked those locust shells as a kid either, but I don't recall going stark raving mad over them like Olivia did. I was so grateful when my attempt at distraction worked, and we played I Spy the rest of the way home. What a journey.

Henry is doing really well on the potty. Don't be fooled by the photos. I promise he wears shorts when we leave the house. His current obsession is Cars shoes. My friend threw them in a bag of hand me down dresses that she was loaning for Vivian, and Henry found them. He loves them. However, he complains they they are too tight. They are larger than his current size and can't be loosened, so this creates drama. He woke up from his nap while I was out of the house with Olivia yesterday, and Robbie said Henry said, "I want my car shoes," over and over and over ad nauseam until I returned and located them. I tell him that he has to wear his shoe store shoes when we leave the house. He asked to hold his Cars Shoes in his carseat and later in the stroller in the optical store. Henry removed both nose pieces from my frames, bent them, and the man broke the hinge off the temple while adjusting it Thursday. That's another sorrow. Anyway, back to potty training, Henry drinks enough during the day that he can practically pee at will for M&Ms. I'm running with it. Robbie will just be happier once his son stops calling his underwear "baseball panties." Oh, the joy of two older sisters. Poor Henry.

And...Vivian calls.

Shake What Your Mama Gave You!

As evidence that 2-year-old Henry indeed takes in all that he hears I will share a story from this morning. I was sweating to death in front of the t.v. doing a hard circuits workout. The instructor explained that even in winter one can accomplish a great workout indoors without fancy equipment by using our own body weight. She told the other girl on the screen, "Just shake what your mama gave you." Henry said, "I shake what mama gave me?"

Yesterday I used the Exercise TV feature of our digital cable and completed several short workouts to sample things. The final one had the word Bootylicious in the title. I know. That is so embarrassing that I shouldn't even admit to it. The neighbor girls were over, and they were playing Play Doh at the kitchen table. Naturally, when the program began the girls turned their heads as the title was announced. The six-year-old said, "Bootylicious? That's funny." They all erupted in giggles.

That evening Emily called from next door to offer my family some extra chips and salsa. Now I love, love, love salsa. I could not say, "No." After we devoured it the big girls were playing walkie talkies from inside our neighboring houses. (Doesn't that sound amazingly fun? I got so excited when Olivia came up with the notion, and then it actually worked!) I told Olivia to tell Emily that her chips and salsa ruined my bootylicious workout results. The dad in the house told his daughter to tell me that the Mexican food ruined his P90X. All of us were laughing.

I have BIG news, grandparents! Henry started to pee on my bathroom mat today after his shower, and I quickly put him on the potty. He succeeded!! I gave him M&Ms (just 2), and he was very motivated. Right after lunch and before his nap he asked for more candy. I explained the incentive. He sat on the potty and produced #1 and #2. This blog is about to get much funnier. My potty training days with the girls were hilarious. Henry actually reached behind his behind and got poop on his hand as he pottied. Olivia and Evelyn laughed and laughed, and I thought, "Well, here we go."

We went to Emily's sister's wedding Saturday night, and the reception was a blast. Our big girls' best friends were in the wedding, so they were thrilled to attend the party. Robbie and I danced with the girls until well after midnight. I absolutely love watching him shake what his mama gave him on the dance floor. That's where it all began for us back in 1994...on the dance floor of his fraternity at TU. Evelyn lost steam around 11 pm (which is when I handed over the camera, and let Ev take pictures of us on the dance floor), but Olivia didn't even act tired. She never sat down once the dancing started. The reception began at 5:30 pm with a cocktail hour. We ate dinner around 7 pm, and then we danced the night away. Robbie and Mike found it very strange, but Emily and I had a pumping party around 9 pm. The seams of our dresses wouldn't have lasted much longer without taking action. I turned out the lights in the hotel at 1 am. The terrible news is that after nursing Vivian around 4 pm between the wedding and the reception, she refused all means of food until I returned and nursed her again at 10 am Sunday. My mom tried to give her baby food for the first time, and she shoved it out of her mouth with a protruding tongue. She didn't care that there was breastmilk in the bottles. She wouldn't drink it. My poor baby cried a lot, and I fear we're losing overnight grandparent babysitters one by one. However, she is sleeping through the night. Robbie booked a hotel on Michigan Avenue for a conference in Chicago in October. We have two flights booked. I won't get to go if she won't start taking a bottle soon. Honestly, she went 18 hours without eating. I ALWAYS maintained that a hungry baby would eat. I hadn't met Vivian when I made that comment.

Finally, we recently attended an outdoor picnic for KU attendings and residents. Robbie is going to begin seeing patients in their glaucoma clinic, and we were invited to meet everyone. The outdoor area was lovely, but dangerous for Henry. They had drainage issues at one point, so they landscaped a hilly paved walkway with running water down one side of it. There was a clearing below, followed by a large footbridge. Enormous rocks lined the canal. If Henry even began to walk quickly the slope propelled him into a run on the paved path. I really didn't think we'd escape the picnic without leaving some blood hehind. We have to watch him every minute. At one point I turned from a conversation to discover him climbing stone blocks that had been built to form a narrow stairstep up to a cactus. I got to him just as he grabbed the shaft of the sharp thing, yelled, "Ouch," and fell backwards from the jolt of yanking his hand away from the plant. I caught him before he fell, and I had Vivian in my arms. My word. We got lucky. Again, no blood.

The guests were all down to earth, and we enjoyed our time socializing with them. Vivian's big blue eyes and precious baby smiles charmed women and men alike. Our cuties even got us an offer for free babysitting from a sweet older couple. The funniest part of the evening was when one of the younger doctors asked me if I have help. I told him that we don't have any family in town. He then practically insisted that Robbie must get me a nanny to help with our four little children. "You don't have a nanny? You're crazy." I laughed, then I told him, "This is my work. I love it." I should have told him that with a husband who is as involved a father as Robbie, I don't need a nanny. Robbie rocks. And he can dance. I'm so lucky.