Happy Birthday, Julia!

Here is Julia, freshly 5 years old, enjoying her roller skating birthday party. She is an amazing girl, just five years into her life. She is ready and eager for kindergarten, already accomplished at sports such as swimming and gymnastics, and showing a love of reading and math. She is nurturing and loving to her younger siblings and is a true help to me around the house. Is there anything this girl can't do? (Please excuse the proud maternal boasting here, but these birthday posts are my big chance...)

Happy birthday, Julia Mae. You light up the world with your presence!

Surprise!

That's what Lindsey got last Thursday when I picked her up from school unexpectedly early and took her to the airport. She had many questions about what we were doing, but I did not answer any of them until we were at the airline counter, at which point she figured out that we were bound for Hawaii--the place she has loudly dreamed of going since she was 4 years old.

Her reaction to the news was worth everything I had put into planning the trip. She started to cry and whispered, "Thank you, mom."

So, off we went to four nights in beautiful Maui where we had mother-daughter time that neither of us will ever forget.

We snorkled, laid around the pool and beach, went to a luau and even took a helicopter over the volcanic crater. We toured a tropical plantation and ate fresh pineapple. We read and ate and watched the Survivor finale. But most of all we hung out, just the two of us. It was a true paradise.

There are many disadvantages to all of Jay's travel, but the airline miles and hotel points are not one of them! We were so blessed to be able to do this for Lindsey at a time when she really seemed to need a little one-on-one time. Because I homeschool Joey, I spend a lot of time with him and know him very well. The preschool kids are home much of the day, so I am good with them too. Lindsey and Sam, because they are at school much of the day, do not spend as much time with me as the others. Therefore, Jay and I are making an extra effort to have one-on-one time with them both. Sam, too, will have some special time before the end of the summer (but perhaps not quite this special!).

At any rate, some photos of our trip are below. It was, quite honestly, the best and most relaxing mother's day I can ever recall. Thanks a million to the grandparents and, of course Jay, who all pitched in, working themselves to exhaustion, to make this possible. You are truly appreciated!

View from our balcony...

A new palm tree growing out of a whole coconut, as seen on our tropical plantation tour...


Eating fries on our snorkel boat...

Altar of the beautiful church where we went for Sunday mass. They had liturgical dance, which normally doesn't do anything for me, but has a whole new meaning when it is hula dancers. It was beautiful and reverent. I loved the Polynesian statues of Jesus and Mary. Also, the choir was amazing!


Waiting for the luau to start...

Barefoot and pregnant...these are some happy toes!

Splashing in the warm ocean. There was decent snorkeling right here off of our hotel beach.


Our fun rental car, which took us all over the island...

Our helicopter and pilot...

Lindsey on the helicopter ready to take off. This was definitely the trip highlight for her.

Aloha!

Beautiful

This is long overdue (anyone who regularly checks this blog knows that I have experienced a bit of an early-pregnancy slowdown in my posts--yes, that is my excuse and I am sticking with it!).

Nonetheless, the photo still speaks for itself even at three weeks old. Congratulations, Lindsey, on your First Holy Communion. What a beautiful day, beautiful sacrament, beautiful girl. We are so proud.

A Welcome (Para)Site

Yes, it is true! Di Silvestri baby seven is officially under development and looking just perfect for 10 weeks along.

We are delighted to receive this gift and hope you will join us in praying for his/her safe arrival sometime around Thanksgiving.

Naturally, we are referring to the baby as 'Lucky'. Now, don't worry, all you literal folks out there--we aren't actually going to NAME the baby Lucky. It's just too much corny fun for this family to pass up. And you know what I say...if you don't have a solid sense of humor, you DEFINITELY should not have seven kids.

Happily, our humor is in excellent shape, so bring it on! Welcome, Lucky!

My New Definition of "Helpful"

Yesterday Lindsey came home from school and told me she needed to bring in a small bone or shell today for a "fossil" project.

This is the kind of thing that floors me. Things like this, mentioned casually at 4pm on an afternoon when I have no plans to drag six children to the craft store, make me dream of homeschooling them all.

However, Joey came to my rescue in a most wonderful and surprising way. "I know where to get a bone, mom!" he bubbled. "Can Sam and I ride our bikes into the desert together? We'll be right back!"

Off they went, giggling with adventure, into the desert and were back in 15 minutes with two owl pellets, carefully sealed in a ziplock bag. There were dozens of bones from some small mammal neatly bound together in whatever comes out of an owl's digestive system. Words cannot describe their pride. Or my delight that I did not have to go to the store!

Now, don't get me wrong. Dissecting dried owl vomit to retrieve bones for a project is only slightly more appealing than going to the craft store with six kids at 4pm. But the thrill of having my 9 year old save the day and in such a Tom Sawyerish way brought me nothing but joy.

Now, THAT's helpful!

Aftermath

In retrospect, the cornbread we used quite effectively to keep Isabella quiet during our after-mass brunch today may not have been the best choice.

For the busboy, anyway.

Pop Flies and Poppies

We had a perfectly wonderful family day today.

After mass, we went to the Jethawks game (the Jethawks are our local Class A Baseball team, affiliated with the Boston Red Sox). Our team lost badly, but that didn't dampen our moods at all--after all, the season is just beginning and they have plenty of time to get better!

The Jethawks games are ideal entertainment for families. We went today because Sam's Cub Scout Pack presented the flag before the game, so we were there with a number of families from our parish school that we really enjoy hanging out with. Throughout the season, there will be half a dozen more reasons for us to go--the scout sleepover-on-the-field nights, Braceball Day sponsored by Lindsey's orthodontist (and fellow Sacred Heart parent), Quartz Hill Little League day, etc.

The Jethawks have a kid's club that is truly an amazing deal: for $15 each child gets an unlimited season pass to the games, a t-shirt and the ability to participate in special activities with Kaboom (the mascot bird) at nearly every game. They get to run across the field at the 7th inning stretch, and they can run the bases at the end of the game. In addition, there is a fun zone filled with inflatable jumpers and slides that the kids can have unlimited access to during the game for $2. I love the down home atmosphere coupled with really good baseball for the whole family to enjoy. Adult tickets are just $5, so the entire experience really can't be beat. We feel very fortunate to have this franchise literally down the street from our house.

After the game, we took a drive out to the Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve. For anyone who thinks the desert is an ugly place, take a look at this:



Even with the poor quality (it was taken with my cell phone) you can get an idea of the miles and miles of bright orange rolling hills that are about 10 miles outside of town. You can see this blur of color from the freeway but it doesn't do justice to the closeup view. There are miles of hiking trails running through the reserve and a visitor's center (which we skipped, but looked nice). There were people everywhere, enjoying this incredible display of nature. WOW!

I love the weekends! Coming up next weekend: Lindsey's First Holy Communion. Stay tuned for the full report!

Well, Which Is It?

Normally, I am not one to comment on politics.

I'm not really even going to do that now. You will notice that I do not state my specific personal opinions on the matters which follow (although, for the record, I tend to be fairly but not consistently isolationist where international policy is concerned).

However, I simply can't help myself from ranting just a tiny bit on the inconsistency of international policy that some of the liberal talk show hosts are espousing (I listen to both liberal and conservative talk radio and love alternately getting irritated with both sides).

One the one hand, the liberal hosts hate the war in Iraq. They love to go on and on about how incredibly stupid it was for us to go there in the first place and that everything ever pertaining to our involvement in the war was a giant mistake. To listen to them describe it, we should have kept our noses completely out of what Sadaam Hussein was doing, as it was none of our business to get involved in.

Recently, on the other hand, I have heard from them more and more calls for our country to boycott the Olympic Games in Beijing based, primarily, on China's political entanglement with Tibet. China's human rights violations, in their opinion, should keep us from participating in the activities coming up this summer.

I understand, of course, that boycotting the Olympics is a completely different thing than declaring war and taking out a dictator. I also understand that the road to our involvement in Iraq was quite complicated. However, isn't this point of view a slippery slope of inconsistency?

Do we or do we not take action where human rights violations are taking place? Are we the world's policeman with all the horrors and honors and responsibilities that go along with that, or aren't we? Which is it, people?

If we really believe that China's actions are so abhorrent that we cannot associate with them athletically, how far is that from the view that we should take military action to stop them? How far is that from the very first reasons we got involved with Iraq to begin with?

Don't worry folks, I don't expect any actual answers to this mud. I just thought that today I'd deliver some political food for thought, as a little break from all the cute photos of my kids and stuff... :-)

Pure Joy

For me, total happiness is looking out into the backyard and seeing my family busy and happy on a Sunday afternoon. Gobs of children running around and laughing, my husband carrying tools from here to there, even the dog joyfully galloping amidst all the activity beats any other view I can imagine having from my kitchen sink.

Here is just a sampling of what I saw today:

1. Jay working on building my raised garden beds, carefully and patiently letting Tony help with even some of the funnest and loudest tools.

2. Lindsey, Sam, Julia and Joey playing tug-o-war with an old jump rope until they collapsed in a giggling mass on the lawn.

3. Sam leading "Simon Says" with Julia and Lindsey as willing participants in his completely ridiculous requests.

4. Joey and Sam wrestling like brothers should within the relatively safe confines of the trampoline net.

5. All the children taking turns being the sled dog for another child who rolled along behind, barking orders to go faster and faster.

6. Julia, going around and around the natural race track made by the swimming pool, honing her new two wheel bike skills.

7. An enthusiastic game of kickball.

8. All the kids trying their hand at the new multi-purpose ramp Jay threw together with the scraps from his project.

Nothing in the world could be more beautiful to me. I happily worked at my sink, with Isabella babbling along beside me, and could see every member of my immediate family. Everyone healthy, safe, happy, together. These snapshots are mine to view but for a brief moment in time...but the images will be forever in my mind.

Almost, But Not Quite

Julia (as she watches a pickup truck packed with children pass by) : Wow! Do they have more kids than US?

Me: No, honey, that's a baseball team.

Bathtub Greenhouse

It is almost planting time! Jay is busy building the raised beds for our new, improved vegetable garden, while I have been starting the seedlings that can readily transfer.

For now, there are no baths in my tub. Only dirt, pots, and a lovely earthy smell that permeates the master bathroom.


The miracle of life is so apparent in a seedling. How amazing that a complete genetic package for a tomato or a cucumber is held inside a tiny seed! Even more amazing is that it grows, with little failure, when you simply add dirt and water it from time to time. How anyone can witness the creation of new life, whether it be human, animal, or plant, and not know for certain there is a God is beyond me.

In my bathtub greenhouse I am growing from seed: two kinds of tomatoes (early girls and grape), broccoli, cantaloupe, two kinds of pepper (bell and cubanelle), basil, Italian parsley, mint, artichoke, strawberries and freakishly giant pumpkin (just for fun, kids' request).

When the beds are done in a few weeks I will directly sow corn, lettuce, carrots, cilantro, dill, watermelon, peas, regular pumpkins, cucumber, yellow squash, pole beans and giant sunflowers.

Sounds like a lot, I know, and some will probably fail in our crazy desert weather and strong wind. But what fun to try!

Horsing Around

I love this photo of Lindsey--she is completely happy because she is on the back of a horse. At long last she has resumed her riding lessons, which were aborted by our move more than two years ago, and she is thrilled.

The ranch where she is riding is a little slice of farm life that completely amused Joey and me while we observed her first lesson. In addition to the horses, there are geese (one of whom protectively pecks you if you get too close to the owner), roosters and hens, and a mischievous goat, shown below eating a magazine.



At first I was worried about him consuming this type of material, but the stable girl quickly assured me that the magazines were actually planted there specifically for the goat to eat, as they kept him from shredding the actually important paperwork. He reminded me of a toddler who had to be corrected and distracted constantly.

Perhaps the high point for me was observing the goat head butt the goose in an attempt to get at its feed. This was not smart, and the goose quickly put him in his place. Later he was seen head butting the feed trailer as it came in for a delivery. In Darwinian terms, this goat will not be long for this world, but he sure is pleasure to watch...since he's not my responsibility and it's not my property, of course!

I would never want to maintain a working ranch. But it sure is fun to visit one. I, for one, am glad Lindsey is riding again!

Total Fluff

I got a new purse today!

This is big news, as I have not bought a purse in about 6 years. I am not a big bag switcher, so it is quite a banner event when I do.

The best part? I had been looking at this bag for a few weeks, but couldn't decide whether to take the plunge. Today when I happened by, it was 25% off plus an additional 20% off that. I would have been a fool if I had passed it by.

Well, I've gotta run now and "move in" to my new purse. What total, girly fun!

The Cat's out of the Bag

There is always a lovely honeymoon period when Jay starts a new job. It's a time when he is learning the software, proving himself to his peers and working hard, but relatively quietly. His co-workers don't really know him yet so he is left pretty much alone to do his thing. Therefore, he is blessedly close to home, not traveling too much, and not too stressed out.

Well, folks, the honeymoon is over.

After being instrumental in closing a few big accounts this month, the cat is out of the bag on Jay. People outside of his immediate circle have figured out how competent he is and he is in high demand. (Forgive the spousal bragging, please, but I can't help it--I am proud of him!)

He is off today, Sunday, to a show in San Diego where the VP of Sales requested him personally, and then straight to Seattle after that, for another demo. He is supposed to be West Coast only, but after they handed him an RFP for Australia this week, I am somehow doubting the long term viability of this scenario.

Ah, well. It was fun while it lasted. (Go, Jay, go!)

Reconciled

Congratulations, Lindsey, on your First Reconciliation! It is my hope and prayer that you will remain close to God through this Sacrament all of your life.

Beautiful music, beautiful prayers, beautiful tears, beautiful girl...inside and out. Your parents are so very proud of you.

Happiness Is...

...having two kids on one baseball team. How I love efficiencies!

The kids are doing quite well with baseball, especially since it is the first year playing for both of them. Lindsey, in particular, has a knack for it. During Saturday's game, the coach for the opposing team approached me and asked if I would consider allowing her to play on his team in the farm division (right now she is in coach pitch).

You know what I said, right? NO WAY! I've got two kids on one team, which means practice and games in common. That is worth more than gold in my world. Sorry, Lindsey. Maybe next year.

Effective, But Not What I Had In Mind

Today while I was chauffeuring the kids around, it occurred to me that my driving skills have declined in recent years. I am more distracted than I used to be...by children, the phone, the ipod, school papers, sports equipment and many other things. I never seem to just be driving and paying attention to the road anymore without something else competing for my attention.

As I was reflecting on this, I shot up one of my dozens-a-day quick prayers: Please, God, help me to be a better driver so I can keep my family safe.

I forgot about this request shortly thereafter, but apparently God did not.

As I pulled out of Julia's dance class today, performing my trademark "put the seat belt on when I reach the first stoplight" maneuver, I was pulled over by the sheriff. I received my first traffic citation in many, many years, for a seat belt violation. She reminded me sternly that that car should not even be in gear until my seat belt is solidly in place.

OK, God, I got it. Thanks for listening and for caring enough to send a correction my way.

This Congress Gets It Done

I've just returned from a three day visit to the Religious Education Congress in Anaheim, and all I can say is WOW!

My dear friend (and frequent tell-it-like-it-is commentor on this blog) has been trying to get me to go to this event for years, but I have always been in some inconvenient stage of childbearing that prohibited my attendance. This year, however, the stars aligned. Jay, grandmas and friends stepped up to take over management of house and children, and I sailed out of town for three days of education and reflection. How amazingly wonderful it was!

I got to attend 8, yes 8, 90 minute workshops on topics that I selected (there were 26 to choose from for EACH session). I focused my track mainly on raising and educating godly children, but the topics were broad enough to cover things like the new need for clustering parishes, the church's role in immigration and all sorts of other things.

I got to go to mass every day, and what masses they were! Imagine the entire Anaheim Area packed to the rafters with faithful Catholics, all receiving the Eucharist together. Combined with gives-you-goosebumps music, a three-language liturgy, and one particularly charismatic homilist (who shamelessly promoted his own bobble-head...really, you had to be there), the experience was moving beyond description.

I got to shop and visit exhibitor booths featuring everything from the new St. John's Bible (beautiful, awe-inspiring) to Dead Sea foot scrub (less so).

I got to sleep all night. For three nights in a row. Need I say more?

Thank you, thank you, thank you to my amazing husband and the heroic grandmothers who made this possible. I return refreshed, inspired and ready to resume my joyful duties and mother and wife.

Whoa, Nelly!

To the best of my knowledge, 9 year old boys are supposed to be interested in Legos, bike riding, knives and fire. Joey fits into this category perfectly, showing a healthy interest in all of these things.

9 year old boys are NOT supposed to be interested in girls, nor girls in them. No way, no how. That simply must be quite a few years down the road. I am so convinced of this basic truth that I have not spent even one minute thinking about what unique parenting challenges a development in this area might bring.

(It is at this point in my rant that I am going to choose to ignore that fact that girls and boys were quite interested in each other in my own fourth grade class way back when.)

As sure as I am that I have my facts straight, I nonetheless have begun to notice that Joey is, in fact, interested in girls and they, in fact, are interested in him.

A few days ago, a girl called Joey and they talked for, I kid you not, two hours and twenty minutes. ABOUT WHAT?! I have no idea. I was so flabbergasted by the entire episode that I couldn't even decide whether I should allow this. All I know is that he was positively beaming as he carried the phone around the house, trying to escape the curious ears of his siblings and the panicked, deer-in-headlights gaze of his mother.

About a week before this, tweenage girls at Julia's gymnastics class were actually tossing their hair and giggling at him as he waited for his sister. He now wants to come with me to every one of her classes.

What the heck is going on here? Has the world begun to spin backwards?

My emotions about this are mixed. One one hand, I am happy to see the obvious confidence and pleasure that this is giving him. One the other hand, I am fighting the urge to stuff him in a closet and not allow him to see the light of day for the next ten years.

Obviously, there will be no girlfriends and no dating allowed for many, many, MANY years. But what about all the stuff in between? Can he talk to them on the phone when they call? Can he sit with them at church functions? Can he suddenly become my most consistent tag-along at his sisters' activities?

Jay and I have some quick thinking to do here. Yikes!

Happy Birthday, Isabella

One year ago today we met you for the first time, but it seems as if we've known you forever. You came into our family as if there had never been a time when you weren't here. The joy you bring to us all is immeasurable!

* * *

We celebrated Isabella's birthday at the Knights of Columbus Fish Fry, the place where you can find us every Friday during Lent. Isabella is the first of our children to be born in our not-so-new-anymore community, so it seemed only fitting to celebrate her in the midst of it. I'm very glad we did!

This is only the second time I've had a child reach his or her first birthday without already knowing another baby was on the way. Perhaps for this reason, I am feeling the loss of her babyhood very acutely. The year seems to have flown by and already I cannot remember how she was when she was tiny. This is compounded by her impending weaning--I am going away for three nights this upcoming weekend, which will bring a natural close to her nursing. It is the great irony of a mother's life that we get through the most difficult days of babyhood by reassuring ourselves that it will someday end. Yet, when it does indeed end we long to turn back the clock. How important it is to live in the moment with our young children, because there aren't nearly enough of those moments to last a lifetime.

* * *

Happy 1st birthday, my baby-no-more. I am so very glad you are here! Though I may be sad to see my baby disappear, I am more than compensated by the delight of knowing the toddler that has taken her place.

These Pirates Really Don't Do Anything

Lindsey and I went to see the newest Veggie Tales movie tonight called The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. I hadn't heard much, if anything, about this movie, but I am well familiar with the Veggie Tales franchise and knew pretty much what to expect.

The movie was cute, as most Veggie Tales material is, and it had a nice message about finding your inner hero. However, to my surprise, God was not mentioned at all in the movie. Rather, there was a king figure that said he was always with them, showing them the way. I suppose he was symbolic of God, but if this representation was a stretch for me, I am certain that not one kid figured it out.

Now, I am not one who dislikes secular media as a general rule and I certainly don't feel that every movie has to have an overt Christian message. But I expected it from Veggie Tales and was disappointed to find it missing. Has Veggie Tales sold out in an effort to be more broadly appealing? I sure hope not.

Is it just me, or did anyone else notice this omission?

Smoothing the Edges

As a mother of many, I feel as if I must constantly prove that I can "handle it". The last thing in the world I want is for someone to look at me and think it is irresponsible of me to have so many kids because I am doing such a poor job of caring for them.

As far as character flaws go, this might be my worst (though by no means not my only) one. Of course, God knows this. Therefore, in what I'm sure is a loving attempt to rid me of this flaw, He often sends me opportunities to work on my pride. And, boy, did He send me a doozy today.

Julia started a new gymnastics school this afternoon. Although I loved her old one and felt very comfortable and welcome there, she had become bored with her class, which moved more slowly than she would have liked. Therefore, I brought her to a new, reputedly more fast paced, gym where she could be more challenged and go more times per week.

Knowing that this was a more "serious" gym, I prepped the kids before our first visit. I wasn't sure what it would be like and I didn't want to show up like the Beverly Hillbillies. So, I made sure everyone knew what was expected, I wiped off faces, found clean clothes and gave out a general list of acceptable behaviors.

At the gym, all went fairly well. Aside from Tony falling off the low bleacher in the first 5 minutes and ending up with a lump the size of Omaha on the back of his head, we blended in pretty well. The owner was very welcoming and I felt immediately comfortable. This was not to last long, however.

At the end of class, I gave Julia her shoes, gathered up Tony and Isabella, counted heads and went out the door to the car. I loaded the kids, paused to search for someone's missing shoes, changed someone, and altogether spent somewhere around 10 minutes getting settled. Just as I sat down and buckled myself in, I saw the owner coming toward the car with a sobbing Julia. She explained that Julia had been left inside, didn't know where I was, and had been sitting on her lap crying for the 10 minutes I had been settling in the car.

Unbelievably, I had not even noticed that Julia was not with us.

In my defense (if there is any defense at all for this), I had not left the parking lot, and I am sure that I would have noticed she were missing before I drove off. I always take a mental inventory of the children when I leave somewhere, and I'm sure I would have done so this time as well. But I never got the chance because she found me first.

The owner, previously so friendly and welcoming, was cold now. I felt not only terrible for Julia, whom I had frightened, but, selfishly, for myself as well. This lady, who had only just met me, was judging my parenting ability and I came up way, way short. Here I was, hoping to make a good impression and establish a long, solid relationship with a new gym. Instead, I left the owner incredulous that someone could actually be such a horrible parent. How totally humiliating.

I am dreading the next class. Should I explain myself? Hide behind oversized sunglasses? Go in with my head held high? Retreat to our old gym with my tail between my legs?

Whatever I decide to do, my pride has certainly been beaten back a bit. A few dozen more episodes like this one and perhaps I will be cured of my terrible affliction. And, hopefully, I won't actually lose one of the children in process.

Inexperienced Fairies Please Fly By

When the tooth fairy arrived at Sam's bed tonight, this is what she saw:


Tony had climbed into bed with Sam and wedged him completely off his pillow. Now it was Tony's head on top of the tooth Sam had left...and the fairy had to pass underneath both heads to get the right location.

Tricky stuff, to be sure.

Luckily, the fairy at our house has had some experience and deftly flew in, took care of business, and even snapped a photo on the way out. Good thing she has an inflated view of her own skills, because this could have gone terribly, terribly wrong. If she had thought it through, she might not have attempted this level of difficulty.

Definitely not a job for the fainthearted fairy.

11 Months Old Already

I had to post this photo, as this is the perspective from which I most often see Isabella. That is my leg she is clinging to, and this is where she most often is. Holding my pant leg while I load the dishwasher, rotate the laundry, brush my teeth, fix dinner, whatever I happen to be doing.

My little cling-on. My constant companion.

How I will miss her when she is no longer at my feet. For it won't be long now until she is off and running, no longer content to stick by my side.

Things I Learned While Skiing for the First Time in 10 Years

1. Hardly anyone skis anymore--snowboarders have taken over the mountain. The skiers that do still exist are nearly all over the age of 35. Like me.

2. Ski boots that fit me 10 years ago don't fit after six pregnancies. It isn't just my waistline that has changed!

3. The good news is that the 15 year-old stretchy ski pants that once made me look like a ski-bunny hottie still fit. The bad news is that they are no longer in style and I was the only one on the mountain wearing them. Oh, and I am no longer a hottie of any kind. What a bummer.

4. Skis don't look like they used to. The skis I own are long and pointy. New skis are shorter with bubble-like ends. Luckily, since the ski boots didn't fit I went ahead and rented everything including skis, so I did not date myself with my personal skis...just with my pants.

5. The proportion of time I wish to spend warming myself by the lodge fire during a ski day has increased along with my age.

6. I have quadricep muscles that, apparently, I haven't used in quite some time. They have officially registered a protest.

7. Ski school for kids is a really, really good idea. Check them in, completely inexperienced at 10am and pick them up at 3pm, all ready to ride the lift with you!

8. If the zipper on your child's parka decides to break on a ski day, it is far better for it to do so before you are up on top of the mountain, when you are still in the vicinity of a large chain store with bargain prices.

9. It is more fun to ski when it is not actually snowing, although it does make the ride nice and powdery.

10. Skiing is like riding a bicycle--after a run or two, it feels like no time whatsoever has passed.

11. I'm really glad we live only 45 minutes from the Mountain High ski area.

12. Our family, finances and babysitting permitting, will be returning to the slopes again soon!

Happy Birthday, Lindsey!

How can you be 8 years old already? Yet, here you are, on the occasion of your 8th birthday, so beautiful and grown up. How proud I am of the person you are becoming and, indeed, already are.

Lindsey had a mystery theatre party that was a lot of fun. Each of the 16 participants had a part to play, and together they solved a haunted house crime and figured out which one of them was the culprit. The mostly second grade girls did a great job of reading their lines and acting out their parts, making for a totally unique and memorable party. Lindsey is shown above in front of the "Eerie Cove Police Department" sign, dressed for her part as Lola Lavish, the richest woman in the world...or IS she?! Hmmm.

Happy 8th birthday, Lindsey. You are loved, totally and completely.

It's a Chicken-Egg Thing

I'm not sure, really, which came first--the incredibly painful knot in my neck or the realization that my refrigerator, after limping along for some time, finally died a total and complete death.

I first realized that the refrigerator was on its way down last night just before bed, because the ice I grabbed for my last glass of water was wet and soft. Having been through sporadic thaws and even heat-ups with this only-two-year-old refrigerator several times before, I snapped into action and frantically shuttled my perishables to the garage fridge. Don't EVER buy a GE fridge, folks, because our last one did this too, at only 18 months old! (The one in the garage, for the record, is a reliable 12 year old Kenmore). It is a good thing I did this because by this morning, the otter pops I left in the freezer were liquid and warm and the control panel was flashing in a mocking manner.

So, you see, it is possible that the neck knot developed overnight due to the tension I felt simply knowing what was coming.

On the other hand, it is possible that the refrigerator, evil incarnate as far as I'm concerned, knew deep in its wiring that today I would have this terrible neck knot and so, therefore, it was the best day possible to cease working.

I suppose we will never know the truth. But what I do know is this: I spent today alternately popping largely ineffective ibuprofen tablets and going from store to store trying to find the largest refrigerator I could find to fit in my kitchen...at the best possible deal, of course.

Did I mention Jay was out of town? He often is when I have refrigerator crises. Lucky man.

At any rate, our new 26 cubic foot Samsung fridge will be delivered tomorrow and, no matter how much your neck hurts or how tired you are, that is something to get excited about. I love new appliances!

So, although I wouldn't have chosen to make a purchase like this right now, I am determined to enjoy the fruits of it. I plan to kick the old GE fridge hard enough to leave a dent on its way out, and just the thought of this small act of revenge is sure to give me pleasure for weeks to come.

That is, of course, if the stiff neck allows for this level of activity. But, you know? Somehow I think it will better tomorrow.

A Win-Win-Win

If you happen to have a fourth grade homeschooling boy who is often, shall we say, reluctant to complete his work in a cheerful manner, then boy do I have a plan for you!

Step 1: Find an adorable 8th grade girl who lives on your street (make sure your boy has at least a small crush on her) who wants to be homeschooled too, but can't because her parents both work.

Step 2: Allow her to convince you that supervising her homeschooling during the day would be a good idea.

Step 3: Make the arrangement with her parents to have her over each day from 9-2. Check to be sure she is doing her work, answer any questions she has, offer a tip or two when prudent, but let her parents chart her progress, grade her work and give her the day's assignments.

Step 4: Receive abundant free babysitting as compensation for your time, and be extra pleased that she delights in playing with the little kids in between her lessons (quick, mom, rotate the laundry while she's playing with the baby!)

Step 5: Stand back and watch your fourth grader fall all over himself to try to impress her by doing the very best work you've ever seen from him. Watch him complete his work early in the day so he can be sure to spend his PE time riding bikes with her after their lessons are complete.

It's great for me. It's a great for her. It's great for Joey. A win-win-win if I ever saw one!

A Blissful, Blustery Day

My idea of a great day:

A rare and welcome rainstorm in the desert.
Good friends visiting for the weekend.
The fire burning and candles lit all day long.
A soak in the hot tub while the rain falls gently on our heads.
Walking the dog in the desert, the usual dust subdued by the moisture.
Homemade bread and potpie aromas filling my home.
My husband working on this and that around the house.
My children milling around me.
A good chick flick before bed.

Color me happy.

10 Months Old Already

This photo portrays a happy moment from a girl who, although normally quite content, hasn't had much to smile about lately. Isabella has an ear infection that 3 back-to-back rounds of antibiotics can't get rid of and, frankly, she's had enough.

She was stoic enough in the beginning. In fact, I was not even aware that she had an ear infection when she was first diagnosed with it in late November during a well baby visit. In the last few days, however, she has been fussy, off-and-on feverish, and hard pressed to sleep for more than an hour at a time during the night. She tugs at her ear and screams if anyone touches it. Poor girl.

We saw the doctor again today and he has prescribed a 4th round of antibiotics to try to kill this thing. If these do not work she will have to see a specialist who will more than likely put her through some terribly unpleasant things in an effort to cure her.

So, please send up some prayers for my sweet girl...and her sleep deprived mother!

Hits and Misses

Like all the rest of us, Santa wins some and he loses some.

Take, for example, the simple game of Uno that he left in Sam's stocking. This is a winner, pure and simple. We all enjoyed playing it together tonight and are left looking forward to the next go-round.

In sharp contrast, we have the Baby Alive that he brought for Julia. I don't know what he was thinking. This baby is constantly hungry, eats disgusting glop and then actually poops it out into her diaper. She went through her entire supply in the first 6 hours Julia had her. Does Santa not know that we have two real babies here that do this? This is not an area in which we needed a simulation.

Again in the "hit" category is the giant bed he brought for Trooper. Trooper loves it and no longer leaves fur balls on my family room rug. The dog is happy, I am happy. The kids are happy because Santa remembered the dog. This is all good.

On the other hand, we have the take along castle he brought for Sam. The box boasted that it had a gazillion pieces, as if that was a plus. These pieces are now spread throughout my house with no hope of ever being reunited with one another in their entirety. Sigh.

Ah, well, we can't blame Santa. He's only human. (Or IS he? Hmmm...)

A Belated Merry Christmas!

Between preparations and recovery, I did not get this posted when I intended to, but the sentiment remains the same: Merry Christmas to all of my friends in the blogosphere!

I hope your Christmas was as lovely as ours has been and continues to be.

Quote of the Day

Julia, in a fit of four year-old defiance:

"I am going to do what I want and nothing is going to stop me!"

(Pause.)

"Except a spanking."

True Humility

As a mother of six young children, I am never lacking opportunities to practice the virtue of humility; my children humble me constantly. Yet, there is nothing quite as humiliating for me as a trip to the carwash.

I always go to the same carwash because it is cheap, fast and fairly friendly. I can't tell if the quality is great because, given what I start with, there is only so much they can do. Nevertheless, it works for me, so there I go.

I am quite certain that they know me and my van by now. I am sure they must pray, every time they see me drive by, "Please, God, don't let THAT turn into our driveway today!" When I do turn in, I am guessing that the workers are busy calling in favors, changing their workstations around and working whatever deal they can, just so long as they don't end up being the poor sap stuck on vacuum duty for my vehicle. Perhaps they use me as a hazing ritual for new employees.

And, really, I can't blame them if they do. By the time I carve out the time to go to the carwash, I can assure you that my van is disgusting. The amount of crumbs on the floor could feed a small country. The trash could cave in a landfill. And did I mention that the cats pee in my car whenever a child leaves the door open? I might actually quit the carwash job rather than vacuum my own car. It is that bad.

Do you want to know the scariest part? Before I even get to the carwash, you can be sure I have invested nearly an hour cleaning the jackets, shoes, socks, wrappers, crafts, school notices, books, toys and cups out of the three rows. Worst of all, I do this fairly regularly.

So far, I've only mentioned the inside. Want to know what the rest of the car looks like? Outside, the kids have written their names and "Wash Me" in the dust on three sides, top and bottom. The car-length scratches from somebody's toy car stand out, even beneath all the dust, like a garland of silver tinsel on a Christmas tree. To top it all off I am missing a hubcap, as if I needed any more help looking like I should be playing a banjo on my front porch.

YUCK!

Some days I wonder, what is wrong with me that I let this get so bad? Why don't I discipline the children more about what they leave in the car and what they bring in the house? Why do I let them eat in the car, play cards in the car, take their shoes off in the car?! But I know the answer...I do what I can, where I can, and I fight the most important battles. If I tried to fight them all, there would be no peace in my family. For me, the car is one of the areas I am not willing to fight, because by the time we get home from wherever we have been, I am generally exhausted and the kids can't wait to get out of the car. This is not a good combination for the state of our car, but often it's great for my sanity to see them dash away into the house, especially after a long time in the car together. So what's a mom to do? Be humbled by the car washers for now, I guess.

I must thank my dear friend who sent me this link a few days ago, to let me know that my situation is not all that unusual. I laughed so hard I actually cried. It made today's car wash visit, well, a little less humiliating.

The Story of Christmas

She gave birth to her firstborn son...


...and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no place for them in the inn.

Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.

Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth.

But a sword will pierce your own soul too.

Surely from now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.

What a beautiful narration of the Christmas miracle, as presented by the 72 three and four year olds at Mission Bell Preschool. Are you thinking I cried as I watched? You bet I did.

Nine Months Old Already

And then some! I have been so distracted by Thanksgiving and Christmas that I almost left off a month in Isabella's first year posts. Since this is the only baby book she currently has, I must not fail!

At any rate, my nine month old baby finally has a tooth, has discovered the fun of tossing out the plastic cups from their oh-so-reachable drawer and loves to "help" me unload the dishwasher. She is everywhere, constantly in motion. But best of all, she has a brilliant smile that lights up her entire face and, consequently, mine.

Although I do not have evidence of this smile in the above photo, I was so pleased with her cute little outfit that I had to post it anyway. Plus, she hardly ever sticks her tongue out anymore, so this may be the last evidence of that baby habit that had us so concerned.

Happy nine months, Isabella!

I Just Don't Get It

Why, oh why, would a car sit in the Costco parking lot, watching me unload a cart very full of groceries (and a number of small children) for more than 10 minutes, with its blinker persistently letting me know it is waiting for my parking spot, when there are a number of spots open about 6-8 slots down from mine? Or one row over? HOW LAZY ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

(Sorry. Had to rant, just a little.)

Mmm, Mmm Good

I love IKEA. It is one of the world's greatest shopping experiences. Things are bargain priced, unique and useful, and the selection is plentiful. The bathrooms are set up for children. There is a check-in playground. There are even kid activity kiosks in areas where a mom might get bogged down and wish to thoughtfully consider a purchase for more than 30 seconds. Say, for instance, in the window treatment section, where I happily spent a good 15 minutes today, even with 4 children in tow.

But even better than all of these things is the IKEA cafeteria. The meatballs with cream gravy and lingonberry jam are absolutely delicious, and with kids' meals priced at just $1.99, what could be better?

Not much, in my opinion.

Mother Mary...Or, More Correctly, Mother OF Mary

Julia has been cast as Mary in her preschool's Christmas pageant. This is a really, REALLY big deal at her school, let me tell you.

For months now, as soon as people learn that Julia has switched to Mission Bell preschool, I have been hearing, "Wait until the Christmas Pageant, you are going to LOVE it!"

Now, I am really, truly not one of those stage moms who pushes. As long as my kids are happy with what they are doing, I am happy. But I could not help but catch the enthusiasm of the teachers when they gave me the news at pick up time today. All three of them gushed over her, saying how perfect she was for their Mary. They pointed out how similar her facial features and hair were to the likeness of Mary most often portrayed and how her natural mothering way was perfect for the role. They handed me a pre-made costume (THANK YOU!), complete with hair clips, and a dialogue sheet to practice lines with her at home, and sent me on my way. By the time I walked out of the preschool, I was puffed up like a peacock.

I believe there is little I will ever look forward to seeing as much as I am looking forward to this performance. There are three preschool classes of about 20 kids each that are all coming together for this one pageant. The 3 year olds will be the angels and lambs while the 4 year olds tackle the subtleties of the more complex roles. I can't stop thinking of that book The Best Christmas Pageant Ever where the whole thing is a disaster, but even if it is, how could it be anything other than a completely adorable disaster? I truly can't wait to see it. This would be true no matter what role Julia was playing, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't thrilled to see her cast as Mary.

Naturally, I'll post pictures. I might even have to figure out the whole video link thing. (But don't hold your breath for that one!) In the meantime, I am enjoying this holy influence on my occasionally-somewhat-less-than-holy 4 year old daughter. May it live on, long beyond Christmas!

Happy New Year!

It was Fall Luncheon time at Sacred Heart School again today. This year's theme was "Happy Holidays". Each of the 10 tables celebrated a different holiday, and ours was New Year.

Here we are, the hostesses with the mostesses. We are the same five who put together China last year and had a great time working together again.



Here is the whole length of the table. It runs from the champagne fountain at one end, to the painting of Times Square in the back, seating 40 guests in between. Most of the guests sat at our table last year as well, so we were serving a friendly crowd.



Here is a closer view of the table. Each guest received a split of champagne and a wrapped gift to take home, as well as a party blower. All the champagne-bottle centerpieces have labels with New Year's Resolutions on them.

As it turns out, the combination of flowing champagne and noise makers made our table one of the rowdiest...but that's the way we like it. It is a total hoot to see the old guard of our parish come out and party down in the middle of the afternoon.



As before, all three of our priests attended (our pastor, who sat at the "Christmas" table was wearing a "I believe in Santa Claus" hat, which was nice touch) along with a few Carmelite sisters, the principal, a good number of Knights, the former principal, at least half a dozen folks from my choir, and many, many others. It made for a diverse, fun group, though it was hardly intimate at 400 seated, plus their servers.

I, as madame treasurer, will be counting the money later in the week (give me a few days, I need to recover from this first!) but all indications are that we pulled off a very successful event for our kids.

I Did It To Myself

Sam (as he is voraciously gulping down the shrimp scampi I made for dinner tonight):

"I don't want macaroni and cheese anymore. I just want this."

You Can Call Him Sir

Sir Knight, that is. Jay is now officially a 4th degree member of the Knights of Columbus.

Here he is, decked out in his full regalia (he's holding the plumed hat in front of him and you can't see the sword very well, but, trust me, it looks great).

Shortly after this photo was taken, I had the pleasure of dressing in formal attire and accompanying him to a dinner. I put makeup on, I curled my hair, I wore a floor-length gown that was not in any way nursing-friendly. It was great! It has been so long since I've dressed up like that that I forgot how fun it is. Sorry I cannot post a photo...if you can believe it, I forgot my camera for the weekend! Someone was kind enough to give me the one above.

At any rate, I am very happy for Jay and, indeed, happy for our whole family that we are involved in such a fine organization.

Now I guess you can say I'm a Lady of a Knight. (Hee hee hee)

An Angel and a Saint

I would be remiss if I did not also post our All Saints Day photos.

I cleverly recycled Sam's dragon slayer costume so Lindsey could be Joan of Arc.

Jay gently suggested that we might remove the horns in order to make a more authentic Saint Joan. However, since I had just spend several evenings frustrated lovingly hand-tacking these horns (did I mention that this fabric is thin and slippery?) to the costume, I was disinclined to do this. And, after all, since the only known portrait of Joan of Arc was long ago destroyed and we now have only artists' imaginative depictions of her likeness, can we really be sure that she didn't have horns on her armor? It must have taken a lot to make a 17 year old girl seem scary to the English and perhaps that's just what she needed to make her point.

At any rate, I regretted my decision when we went to the school mass and had no trouble picking Lindsey out in the crowded pews because her horns were the highest point in the row. Turns out, it's not really the best adornment for mass. Ah, well, live and learn.

Sam decided he wanted to be Saint Michael the Archangel.

While I applaud the decision overall, he decided to do this the day before when I, certain that he would be using the Franciscan robe we already had, was little in the mood to go find a white robe and wings for him. Now, who would have imagined that shopping for Halloween-type accessories on Halloween afternoon might be a little trying? I was unable, in three stops, to locate anything resembling a white robe (although, thankfully, I did find good wings), so there I was at my sewing machine at midnight, turning a Walmart sheet into a robe fit for an Archangel. Luckily, he looked so cute in it that I nearly immediately forgot my irritation.

So there you have it. An angel and a saint. Now if they'd just stay that way...

Halloween Photos (Part 2)

Sam required an entire post of his own because he simply could not choose what to be for Halloween. Over the course of the school day, trick or treating and two parties, he was four different things, one made just for him this year and the other three pulled out of the Halloween bins in the garage. Here I present to you the many faces of Sam.

His official costume: Dragon Slayer

America's pasttime...only this time he's the player and the ball!


Some scary, flashing red-eyed ghoul...

...and, of course, the classic dead motorcycle rider.


He's worse than the host of the Oscars. But at least he had fun.

Halloween Photos (Part 1)

Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep...

...and found it!


Hermione casts a spell...

...and turns Joey into a rapper.

Tony is delighted to be Thomas.


(More photos on their way.)

It's All Monkey Business to Them

Driving along in the van yesterday, Jay and I began talking about his upcoming 4th degree exemplification in the Knights of Columbus. This event requires a tuxedo, so we were talking about different styles of shirts and which he would be wearing.

We were having trouble finding the style of shirt Jay needed, so Jay joked that he would just go bare chested. I said he would look like Chippendale if he did that. Joey, who of course had no idea what Chippendale is, said, "Actually, dad, I think you would look like Donkey Kong."

Not exactly the look Jay was hoping to achieve, but a very funny image nonetheless. I guess that's why they call it a monkey suit!