New Beginnings

Julia, as you can see, is delighted with her new preschool. Today was her first day as a student at Father Serra's Mission Bell Preschool, and it went very well.

After much debate, we decided to switch Julia to a new preschool this year. Though the reasons were all good ones, I still worried as to whether or not we had done the right thing, since she was happy and thriving at her previous Montessori school.

So far, so good, is all I can say. She is thrilled with her new school, and I am happy to have her at a Catholic preschool, close to our house, with children who will be in her Kindergarten class next year.

Although I am a supporter of the Montessori method, I do not see that any of my previous three children have been at an academic advantage as a result of their Montessori preschool years. Since my later-born children are so immersed in a child-friendly environment at home now, with plenty of opportunity to do things for themselves, I no longer think Montessori is the requirement that I once believed it to be.

So, we are experimenting with traditional preschool. My sense is that it will be a successful one. Happy new beginning, Julia!

And You Thought Nothing Grew in the Desert

Well, you're partially right. Nothing you WANT to grow in the desert grows naturally.

But weeds sure do.

Normally I love our big lot. I love that the kids have tons of room to run, that we have room for a pool and a play area, that we are not right on top of our neighbors. However, when I am weeding (which, incidentally, is all I seem to have been doing for weeks now), I am cursing our abundant land with every yank.

"Why," I think to myself as my back locks into a half-bent-over position, "didn't we find ourselves a nice home with only a patio? Or something in a high rise? Or, even better, a house with no landscaping at all aside from the natural vegetation that takes care of itself?" And then, I am inevitably reminded that we have six children that really like to run and tumble, and--oh, yeah--there IS no natural vegetation here other than Joshua trees, and the whole house decision makes sense once again.

I thought I was really clever as I began my weeding hour(s) today in my bathing suit. How refreshing it will be, I thought, to simply jump in the pool when I get too hot. And it WAS it pretty good idea, as the water felt heavenly when I did just that. However, I failed to account for the fact that my back never gets sun and that I would be bent over, back up to the sun, for quite some time. So, now I am enjoying a painful sunburn to go along with the crick in my back. And the strained hamstrings. And the thorns in my fingers because I was too lazy to go get my gloves.

But, hey, I sure got a lot of weeds. A whole yard-waste container full of them. And I can enjoy looking at my weed-free yard for a least three or four days before they all grow back again.

Momma Called the Doctor and the Doctor Said...

...that there is absolutely nothing wrong with Isabella's mouth or tongue and that, go figure, she probably just likes to stick it out. She should outgrow it within a few months.

Just what I thought, but it is good to know for sure.

If she is still doing it pervasively two months from now, they will regroup and do some basic screening to rule out rare, but possible, neurological causes. Thankfully, the doctor believes it is highly unlikely that we will get to that, and believes Isabella is a perfectly healthy little girl.

So there you have it, hot off the medical presses.

Six Months Old Already

Here are the results from Isabella's impromptu 6 month photo shoot:

Attempt #1 = Hmm. Not looking as bright as I might like. Let's try again.



Attempt #2: "Now why would you want to take a picture of the baby when you could have a picture of me instead?!" inquires Tony in not-so-many-words, as he positions himself strategically between Isabella and the camera and waits expectantly.


Attempt #3: Getting closer, but, seriously, can you stow the tongue for the official photo? You are awfully cute, though.


Attempt #4: The camera hog has wormed his way back, after several forceable removals on my part, this time with a hearty, "CHEEEEESE!"


Attempt #5: Thank goodness. We got one.



And just in time, too. Because...she's outta here!

The Jesus Meme

4andcounting tagged me for this meme a shamefully long time ago, and I am finally getting around to doing it.

Why did it take so long, you ask? Because it is a toughie, that's why! It's one I really wanted to think about, and by the time I get to blogging at the end of the day, I don't have much coherent thought left. But tonight, half of my kids are at Sea World with grandma and I have enough iced tea in my system, so I am feeling up to the task.

I'm supposed to name 5 things I love about Jesus. There are so many choices that it is overwhelming for me to pick the 5 most meaningful, but here is my attempt:

1. He is Always With Me

I never feel alone, even when I am. I sense Jesus' presence all the time, wherever I am, and I chat with him throughout the day. He is with me when I am reading to the children, doing laundry, weeding the garden or chopping an onion. He is my constant companion, and I love that.

2. He Fills Me With Peace

When I am angry, frustrated or scared, all I have to do is focus on Jesus and ask for his peace and I feel it instantly. It fills me up, from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head, and is a physical as well as emotional sensation of release for me. I should never forget to do this when I am upset, yet, sadly, sometimes I do. Yet, when I ask earnestly and prepare myself to receive it, he delivers every time.

3. He Is At Once Fully Human and Fully Divine

This is such a great mystery, and I love to contemplate it. I turn his experiences around and around, wondering how this seemingly impossible combination worked. For example, as a fully human infant, he would have little awareness of the world around him, yet as our fully divine Lord, he must have always known who he was. How can this reconcile? I can't wait to find out.

4. He Came Down to Us Out of Love

When I say "came down" I am not speaking of the physical aspect of earth being below heaven. Rather, I mean that our creator, so far above us in all things, put himself here in the physical company of those not worthy to receive him. Not only that, but he gave himself many of the worst possible circumstances: poverty, riddicule, betrayal, faithlessness, hatred and, of course, the worst death imaginable. How ashamed I am to think of our dear Lord, who loves us so much, subjected to the cruel reception he received here on earth by those so far beneath him in every way. He could have been an earthly king, but he chose instead to give us a perfect example of where our values should be. So it makes perfect sense, yet still overwhelms me when I think of it. How loved we are.

5. He Remains With Us Physically

Although Jesus was assumed into heaven, he left us with the gift of the mass. Being fully human (and, of course, fully divine), he understands how important physical contact is to human beings. This is how we connect best. Knowing this, he arranged it so that, not only can we sit in his presence, but we can actually consume him. We can bring his body and blood into our own bodies every single day. There can be no greater intimacy.

* * * *

So, there you have it. Now you know why it took me so long!

Thanks for the tag, 4andcounting--I like doing memes.

A Day of Triumphs and Milestones

For those keeping track, I thought I'd share some milestones and victories for our family.

Yesterday, Isabella crawled for the first time. She is not yet six months old, which makes her my youngest crawler yet, besting even Joey. After three babies that didn't crawl until 9 months and didn't walk until 16 or 17 months, I was quite honestly hoping that Isabella would follow suit and sit happily on her blanket for another few months at least. This is not to be my fate, however, and I am quickly picking up small choking hazards and hiding electrical cords.

She did this while we were at the baby shower of a friend of mine. I had placed her on the floor so I could concentrate on winning the word scramble shower game, and was--I'm embarrassed to admit--annoyed at the interruption when someone started saying, "Look, she's crawling!" I, who have been known to be a tad bit competitive when playing baby shower games, said something resembling, "Don't bother me now!" Enter me in the mothering hall of fame, will you? Anyway, congratulations, Isabella. Take your time cruising, OK?

Also in the milestones category, Isabella got her first taste of rice cereal today. I try to hold my babies off on the solids as long as possible for my own personal convenience. The sole nursing keeps my body offline a little longer, and the diapers get much smellier once solids are introduced. I have managed to make it about 7 months before starting solids with most of my kids. But this little one is ready. For awhile now, she has been grabbing for my food, voraciously sucking anything that resembles food, and getting frustrated with nursing (especially the privacy blanket, which she will simply not tolerate any longer). So, I plopped her in the high chair today, cued up the video camera and waited for the initial response all my kids have had to solids: confusion, thrusting the food back out and some cute yucky face expressions.

This did not happen.

Isabella saw the spoon coming, ripped it out of my hand, shoved it in her mouth, sucked it clean and then stared fixedly at the bowl, waiting for more. I couldn't believe it. She ate and ate like a pro. I didn't even need a bib, so efficient was she at sucking down anything that got even close to her mouth. Then, when I was sure she'd had enough, she shrieked in protest when I removed her from the high chair.

That's my girl. We're definitely related.

Now, in the shameless maternal bragging category, I have to report that Sam was in a karate tournament today and won both divisions he competed in. He came home, hid the medals in his closet and actually kept the secret until dinner time, when he shared it with his siblings at our traditional dinnertime 'round the table "how was your day" report. Both categories involved breaking pine boards with fists or kicks, and I can't believe he could even crack one, much less multiples. I am bursting with pride and happiness for my little dude so I could not resist sharing.

So, it's been a busy week for us Di Silvestris. Next up: back to school. Sigh.

More Magic

This time the magic is not scouting badge stickers...it's Magic Mountain, the Six Flags amusement park I took my kids to last week as a reward for good progress made in their summer reading program.

This mountain really is magic. I went there often while growing up, long before it was owned by Six Flags. I have seen it grow and change over the years, in both good and not-so-good ways. But I am here to tell you that the day we spent in the park together was nearly all good. We had so much fun!

One of the changes Six Flags has made in the park is to add a lot of new, "extreme" roller coasters. As someone who likes the classics, like Colossus and the Revolution, I look with suspicion at these metal giants, that are so bumpy and jerky that they are more painful than fun. However, when Joey begged and pleaded with me to go on one of the relatively new coasters called "X" with him, I agreed. I even waited an hour and twenty minutes to do it. I never, ever wait in lines that long. Except to make my kid happy.

Anyway, as we were getting on the ride I told Joey, "No ride on earth could be worth a wait like this one." When I got off, I said, "That one was worth every minute." And it was.



If you've ever been on the Zipper, a classic carnival ride, this might remind you of that. But this would be the Zipper on steroids. It whips you around, face down to the ground, except this time you are much higher, falling farther and there is no cage around you.

I loved it. And so did Joey. But it's most definitely not for the faint of heart.

Long live this magical mountain!

It's A Girl Thing

Lindsey reached a very important milestone today, a rite of passage for most girls. She got her ears pierced!

This is my girl who doesn't like even to have her hair brushed and winces at relatively little pain. Yet, bravely she sat, enduring pain for beauty's sake, as all women eventually do to one degree or another.

I don't know what prompted it, but a few days ago she started asking to have them done. After I described the process and the discomfort level associated with it, I thought for sure she would postpone. But she was undeterred, so away we went to the Piercing Pagoda, and I watched her fight back her tears and fears while they machine gunned the posts into first one ear and then the other.

I was exactly her age when my ears were pierced, so I felt an extra close connection to her today. What fun we had picking her first earrings (little gold dolphins) and having lunch together afterward.

Congratulations, Lindsey. You are beautiful, inside and out.

Recovery of the Best Kind

I am here. All is well.

We have had guests non-stop for two weeks now (and I am so glad, what a wonderful two weeks it has been) and I have been too busy enjoying their company to do much else.

I am in recovery mode now...laundry, grocery shopping, summer reading with the kids, all the things I have neglected in favor of irreplaceable time with friends.

I'll be back in the groove soon.

P.S. 4 and counting, I saw your meme tag and will respond soon...I promise!

Happy Birthday, Sam!

Sam is 6 years old today. How can it be? I know, I know, I always say that on the kids' birthdays, but it's true. Only yesterday he was my toddler. What the heck happened?!

Sam celebrated his birthday with a karate-themed party on Sunday. Boys from his class, family and friends gathered for swimming, Asian finger foods and a karate demonstration by an 11 year old brown belt who was amazingly composed for his age...or any age for that matter! Thanks, Josh.

As you can see, I did not manage to get a great shot of Sam during his party, but I did manage to capture the embarrassingly large pinata before it showered the children with obscene amounts of candy. At Joey's birthday party back in May, we had a too-small pinata and ended up with crying children who did not get any. Jay, in particular, was scarred by this memory and made absolutely sure this would not happen again. I am certain there must be a happy medium in a pinata that is not nearly the same size as the birthday boy. But I digress.

Today we kept it simple, with a homemade cake (thanks for the help, girls) and Sam's choice for dinner (Mac 'n Cheese from a box--hey, at least it was easy!).

Sam is one of those rare, naturally peaceful people that is difficult to ruffle and almost always happy. He is low-maintenance, self-sufficient, and flexible. He has a "whatever you want!" kind of attitude that I could learn a lot from. He is enthusiastic, clever, funny and imaginative. He is an all-boy bundle of energy with, thankfully, a high tolerance for the pain the comes with his many bumps and bruises. He is a rough and tumble kid that is also one of our snuggliest. Sam is our resident narcolept, who plays hard and sleeps hard, succumbing instantly wherever and whenever fatigue strikes. This is one of our favorite Sam features.

Sam, this world is a better place because you are in it. You keep us all grounded and lift our spirits with your innocent joy. Watching you grow and learn, and develop your naturally kind heart and good character is a true privilege. I love you very much. Happy 6th birthday!

It Really Is Magic

I am oh-so grateful to the inventive folks over at Badge Magic.

Because, even though I enjoy sewing (and even do it from time to time), there is no way Lindsey's Brownie Uniform would look like this without them:


Rather, all these hard-earned patches would be sitting in a basket on my sewing table, waiting for their day in the sun, and poor Lindsey would be attending event after event with my apologies and promises that I really would sew them on soon.

Nor would Joey's, Sam's and Jay's Cub Scout shirts be properly adorned.

Because, really, with a Brownie, two Cub Scouts and a double Asst. Den Leader--so far!--in the house, who has the time to properly patch them all? Just changing the thread in my bobbin alone would take more time than cutting off and peeling half a dozen of these magic stickers.

I have been known to use them for karate uniform patches as well. Cheating, you say? So what!

Thanks, guys. Keep up the good work.

Yet Another Benefit of a Large Family

When you go to your parish BBQ and fill every single seat at the cake walk, you are definitely going home with a cake.

Tempered Joy

I have just received news of the best and worst kind. My dear friends have welcomed a new baby and lost one at the very same time.

Please pray for baby Angelo, brand new here on earth, and his twin brother Benny, who is already in heaven.

Six Kids is Nothin'

Lindsey, Sam and I watched TLC's "16 Kids and Moving In" tonight with our mouths hanging open. This family is absolutely fascinating.

Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar have 17 children. I liked Michelle immediately when the program opened with her quote, "Saying there are too many children is like saying there are too many flowers." While I can't honestly say I'm sorry that it is a biological impossibility for me to approach numbers like this, I can definitely understand why having this many children would be a joy for someone.

This woman is amazing. She not only home schools the children, but has developed an organization system that makes it all look easy. The show we watched chronicles how the family built a 7000 square foot house to accommodate themselves nearly all on their own, with virtually no experience. Every kid down to age 8 had his or her own drill and knew how to operate it!

The house is an inspiration: 8 commercial washers and dryers, two kitchens (one totally commercial with a buffet-style tray slide!) and a tube slide from the boys' bedroom to the playroom. The communal family closet, located right next to the laundromat, has my wheels turning, for sure! Lindsey could not get past the 50 shelf pantry, which not only is bigger than our bedrooms, but also has a garage-style roll up door for easy delivery and unloading of the groceries, straight from the family bus.

I was very sad, during a search for more information on the Duggers, to read some of the comments people have put up about this beautiful family. There are some nasty, hateful, intolerant people out there! Certainly 17 children is not for everyone. But to see a family like this one, working in harmony, devoting themselves to God and each other, is a wonderful thing in my book. I'm quite certain each member of the Dugger family experiences a kind of happiness and peace that members of the "Stop Breeding" crowd will, sadly, never understand.

Michelle and Jim Bob, our family is rooting for you!

A Homing Pigeon

This is what I've become in my middle age--a homing pigeon. I believe I, like the homing pigeon, could fly long distances on instinct alone to return to my very own nest. And I'll bet I could even find my way with several senses knocked out.

I used to long for vacations and time away from my regular routine, but with each passing year, it gets harder and harder to get me out of the house. I have become a curmudgeon who almost thinks leaving the house isn't worth any amount of pleasure I might receive by doing so. Any year now I am going to flip over entirely and never leave again. "I love my home, I love my nest, East or West my nest is best..."

I returned home tonight after 8 lovely days in Northern California, where my kids attended their now annual ritual of Bible Camp at our old parish. We had a fantastic time, as we always do when we visit with our dear, dear friends and former neighbors, but still I am delighted to be home again. Home in my own home. Where I have backstock on diapers and I know where my cell phone charger is. Where I understand how the remote controls work and how best to load the dishwasher. Where I know how to effectively diffuse the chaos that comes with having six children and a huge dog. Where I have my trusty pair of eyeglasses for those unfortunate days when I have an eye infection.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am an extremely social person. I would shrivel without time spent with my best girlfriends, eating too much and watching chick flicks (which can be done most effectively on overnight visits of course). My children share this social affinity and delight in slumber parties with the children of my best girlfriends. I will not deny them or me this pleasure. But it is getting harder for me to do this fluidly. Part of it is that I simply have to pack a lot more than I used to. Not just for the children, but for me too. I require more products as I age, and I am bound to forget something critical (eyeglasses, antibiotics, nursing pads, you name it!). Part of it is that I am used to being master of my own domain and it is hard for me to relax outside of my own routine. Regardless the cause, the end result is that the carefree days of tossing a few things in a suitcase and dashing out the door are behind me, I fear, for good. Packing requires high level mental effort for me now (and, let's face it, the faculties are fading fast).

However, once I reach my destination, I do love forgetting about the things that nag me when I'm home. Like unpaid bills, garbage collection schedules and all the projects I should be completing instead of watching The Devil Wears Prada and eating ice cream. When I'm at someone else's house, I can purely enjoy these things without guilt, and that alone is worth the packing hangover!

At this time, I must acknowledge my saints-on-earth friends are who continue to invite me and my brood to stampede through their homes. Try as we might, we are not a low impact family, especially with the drooling, king-size canine in tow. Just this week we took out a ceramic pie plate, a plunger, a bedroom carpet and a piggy bank, among other things. What the dog did not chew, the toddler threw. And this is not even to mention the clutter we overran the house with during our stay. And the volume of trash we produced in their meant-for-four-people trashcan. And, oh, the spills, the endless spills. Thank you, Tim, Tina, Kyle and Rebecca for having us in your home so graciously. And thank you to all my other friends and family members who have received us the same way for extended stays. You humble me with your hospitality, truly.

That said, I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to have people stay at our house, indefinitely and in great numbers. Come one, come all. Let the homing pigeon stay in her nest and remain a social butterfly. Come to the desert. Come often and stay long. It's the same great company without the mess and destruction in your home. What could be better?!

The Final Harry Potter Book... (don't worry, no spoilers here)

...is the reason I have not blogged all week. I have been devouring it, reading until 1 or 2 in the morning simply because I could not put it down.

I had an eye infection yesterday that completely shut down my right eye. Did that stop me? No. I squinted at the book through the other eye as I waited to see the doctor.

Everything in my life ground to a halt as I finished the book I have been breathlessly waiting for, thinking about, trying to predict, ever since the shocking conclusion to the Half Blood Prince.

I absolutely loved the Harry Potter books and am sad that this is last one. I can't remember the last time I was so excited to read! These books, meant for older kids but every bit as appealing to adults, are clever, funny, exciting and completely original. Though they are, at their most basic level, yet another stage for the classic battle of good versus evil, reading them seems to put me in the genre for the very first time.

J.K. Rowling did not disappoint in this, her final Harry Potter book I will not say anything at all that could possibly be a spoiler for someone who has not yet read the book, so all I will say is WOW! What a great ride these books have been and I am happy to have been a part of it.

As a faithful Catholic, I have no objection to these books. They are pure fiction. I don't think anyone who reads them could possibly think they are seriously advocating magic and witchcraft. Rather, they are a fantasy-trip through a fun, sometimes scary world where people can do all sorts things we have all wished we could do from time to time: disappear, silence others, automatically clean our homes and cook. This is no different from a flying fantasy in my view, and who hasn't wished they could fly!? Yes, the books are dark in places, as Harry and his friends try to conquer pure evil. But this is no different that the real evil that exists in our world. The message throughout the books is a good one: don't succumb to evil, even when it seems to be the easiest or only path. Instead, fight it against all odds and at any cost. Keep your guard up and stay true to truth. Isn't this exactly what I am trying to teach my children?

Thank you, J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter, for the past 96 hours of pure, wonderful, fantasy. Now, back to the laundry.

Five Months Old Already

She sits up, she grabs for things...she even rocks back and forth on her knees, trying to figure out the whole crawling thing. How is it that the first year goes by so fast?

As you see, Isabella's tongue is still sticking out. This charming little habit is, apparently, not normal and her pediatrician has referred her to a specialist to see what is going on. She appears healthy in every way outside of this quirk, so they suspect it may be a jaw or mouth problem rather than anything systemic. I am still hopeful it is something she will just outgrow without medical intervention, but we will at least have her evaluated and see what the doctors think.

At any rate, another month, another growth spurt. Lovely Isabella cannot be stopped. Grow, girl, grow!

Tony's Brush with Fame

I know, I know, two posts in a row about Tony, but I just had to report on his activities this evening because they brought me so much amusement.

This week the four oldest kids went to Vacation Bible School at my mom's church. She was the arts and crafts person, and was delighted to have her grandchildren in attendance at the program. Tonight the program ended with a BBQ and a little show consisting of songs and skits that the kids worked on all week.

As the show began, Tony sat eagerly in the front row, watching and listening attentively. About half way through the first song the kids began to march in time. If there is one thing Tony can do well, it is march. With a gleeful shout of "March!", Tony leaped from his seat and ran to join the performers, front and center. He marched and marched and tried to do the hand gestures right along with the big kids. He then applauded enthusiastically for himself when the song ended.

That would have been fine, adorable even, if he had just come and sit down and let the show continue from there. But Tony had experienced his first moment on stage and apparently just a moment was not going to be enough for him. He stayed put for song number two which, also, would have been fine if he had just followed along with the other children as he had in the last song.

But no.

A few verses in, Tony decided he didn't need the other performers and began systematically shoving them out of his way, trying to get them off stage. He knocked over one boy older than himself and then pinched Julia in an attempt to get her out of his way. All the while performing to the music.

Naturally, we had to put a stop to this so we ran up and tried to get him off stage. He wanted no part of that and, of course, limp noodled on us and had to be hauled off, shrieking, into another part of the church.

I should be embarrassed. Horrified, maybe. But instead I am just very, very amused. Tony was so cute, trying to get all the attention for himself, that I was in tears, laughing so hard I could hardly breathe.

Good thing we live so close to Hollywood, eh? :-)

Happy Birthday, Tony

Tony is two years old today.

How did this happen? When did he change from a baby into a kid? Right under my nose he has morphed from a helpless infant into an independent, affectionate, determined, intelligent, funny person. Someone I love to spend time with. Someone I can't imagine my life without. Someone who brings unique joy to our family.

When I got married, I thought we would have four children. That number sounded like it would provide us with a nice, full house without too much undue chaos. Imagine if I had clung to that idea! Tony would not be here (not to mention Isabella). I am so thankful to Kimberly Hahn and her wonderful book Life Giving Love that totally changed my thinking about family planning and children. If I had never come across it, this precious child would likely not have been born.

A lot has changed in our lives in the two years since Tony joined our family. We moved to Southern California (from Marin County) when he was just two weeks old. That was a difficult time of change, loss and re-settling for me. But, just as Tony has transformed in two short years, so has the life of our family. Right along with him, we have grown strong and healthy in our new community (which is not so new anymore). We are better off for the changes we made around the time of Tony's birth just as surely as we are better off because of his presence. God, of course, knew what he was doing all along, even when we couldn't see it.

Tony, you are a joy to us all. Your laughter, hugs and kisses, games and determination endear you to us completely. You delight us and I can't imagine our lives, or this world, without you. Happy birthday, my little two year old. I am beyond priviledged to be your mommy.

Saved, By the Gentleman In the Back

We went to a family wedding in Carmel on Sunday. It was a beautiful, traditional Jewish ceremony, one of those weddings where everyone in the room really feels how much the bride and groom love one another. I cried through much of it, and I'm not even pregnant!

While we wouldn't have missed it for the world, we were more than a little anxious about bringing six children, to this (or any!) wedding. The groom was Jay's step brother and we were especially concerned about reflecting well on Jay's mom and step dad. We wanted them to enjoy the wedding thoroughly without any scenes or distractions of any kind from our brood. We wanted them to be proud of our family in front of theirs.

So, it was with much preparation and caution that we approached the synagogue. The children were under strict instruction to behave, prepared in every way possible. The bride was kind enough to find someone to play with Tony on the nearby playground during the ceremony so we could relax and enjoy. Even though this significantly improved our chances of anonymity, it by no means guaranteed them, so we were still on eggshells.

Until, that is, we were saved by an elderly guest near the back.

In the middle of the ceremony, this gentleman called out something that I couldn't quite understand. I thought, crazily, that he said, "Who farted?", but I knew it couldn't be. It just couldn't. He was a respectable gentleman who had been nothing but polite in my past experiences with him. And no one would say that during a wedding, of course. So I shrugged it off, even as he got up and moved to another pew. A few people turned around and looked at him, but, like me, I don't believe they thought they heard correctly.

A few minutes later, he got up again and moved back to his original spot. After he was settled, at the critical moment when the couple was about to the seal the deal, he repeated it loud and clear: "Who farted?"

This time, more than a few people turned around. Some young adults began shaking silently with laughter. His wife gave him a swat on the arm and told him to be quiet. The bride and groom did not seem to notice, but just about everyone else did. It was at this moment that I smiled to myself and began to relax.

Because no matter what our kids did during the rest of the wedding or reception, it wasn't that. Someone else logged the entry for the most outrageously memorable moment of the wedding, and for this I am truly grateful.

Who knows what caused this normally well-mannered man to burst out with his question at the time that he did. He is a lovely man in our experience and this seemed out of character. Goodness knows I didn't wish to question his motives as I conversed with him at the reception. Whatever the cause, I am thankful that he lightened my experience, so long as it did not bother the bride and groom.

Yes, it was a wonderful wedding. In every way.

Cultural Transfer

As parents, it is our job to educate our children. We must be careful to expose them not only to the basics like reading, writing and arithmetic, but also to world cultures and the arts.

It is with this in mind that we took our children to the Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo when we were passing through on Sunday. Being especially consciencious parents, we took them to the men's urinal. Even the girls.

It was a lesson in culture, art and physics, all in one convenient stop.

High Tech Toys

I didn't want them. I certainly don't need them. But now I don't want to live without them.

Jay got me an iPod for Mother's Day. At first, I protested the gift, saying how I never listen to music anymore, don't need anything of the sort and why did he get me such an expensive gift. What an ingrate I was.

Fast forward a few weeks, and I am listening to music again, for the first time in a decade, and I'm loving it! No more scratched CDs scattered through the car. No more changing CDs while driving to find the song the kids want. Now, when I remember a song I loved long ago I am just 30 seconds and 99 cents away from hearing it all I want. This thing is great! Besides the music, it has movies and photos too. A perfect mini screen for airplane rides. And I haven't even scratched the surface of Podcasts and books on tape. If there is anyone out there that doesn't have one of these babies yet, I say save up your birthday money and go get one. It's worth it.

Perhaps inspired by my new iPod-driven tech savvy, I finally traded in my 3+ year old mobile phone for a new one. Plan prices have come down during this time, and since my new, fancy, orange(!) phone was (nearly) free as my reward for being a Verizon customer for so long, I felt I could splurge the $5 a month for mobile web. I am now paying $5 LESS a month than I have been for the past 3 years and have a phone that flips open to reveal an entire, usable keyboard from which I can easily access my Yahoo email. I can hardly believe it. I know, I am showing my age by my amazement, but I can't help myself. I'm too excited! The phone has a camera nearly as good as my real camera, too, so I'll never be caught without one again. If you've been living with your phone for awhile, see if your provider will give you a new, cool one for free. I'm sure glad I did! After all, what can be more thrilling than being able to see who has commented on your blog while waiting to see your dental hygienist?

Now, don't even get me started on Tivo, the single greatest thing to happen to television since the remote. This is life-changing stuff. My kids have a very limited awareness of what commercials are, since they have been fast forwarding through pre-recorded, pre-approved programs all their lives. How did people raise children without this tool, I'd like to know. Imagine, never missing an episode of American Idol again! It can happen to you, I tell you.

I am guessing that there are those who read this blog who are not fans of technology. Some of you may not even have televisions. Though I admire your resourcefulness, I am not one you. I embrace technology. I love technology. It's so much fun!

Perhaps I have a little work to do in the "materialistic" category.

Family. Fun?

In the "Not As Fun As I Thought It Would Be" category, I have not one, not two, but THREE entries for today.

1. The kids earned Happy Meals for progress made in their summer reading program, so I took them out to redeem them today. They requested all different toys and actually got them (sometimes they all get the same thing and they don't like that) but then spent the entire meal time trading, arguing and crying over who got what toy and who wouldn't trade or trade back. Nothing says fun like multiple meltdowns in Burger King.

2. I used to make the kids' Halloween costumes back when I had just two and three kids. The last few years I have bought and reused costumes because I no longer have the time or the energy to make them. Last year the kids noticed that the homemade ones were better than the store bought ones and asked me to start making them again. I told the kids if they wanted homemade Halloween costumes, they had to ask me at the beginning of summer so I had time to make them. To my surprise, they remembered and asked me, right when school got out, to start sewing. So, today I thinned the herd and took just Joey and Sam to the fabric store to look at patterns and choose their costumes. (I will do the rest of them in later phases.)

Fun as this sounds, it was not. At first they couldn't find anything they liked. Then they found inappropriate or too difficult or too expensive things. Then, they couldn't decide on the proper fabric. Then, when the fabric was cut, they changed their mind and wanted to be something else (not a chance, bucko). Then, the baby's diaper blew out in a messy way, in the middle of the long fabric cutting line and she decided to scream about it for the rest of our visit. Next, one of the items I chose didn't have a price and we had to stand there while a slow-as-molasses sales person meandered back to see if she could find something similar to scan. (I finally sent Joey, who returned with the proper item before the tortoise had even rounded the first corner). Nothing but fun, I tell you. And it only continued as we got home and the "when will it be done" and "why aren't you working on it yet" questions began.

3. We all went bowling tonight. To be fair, overall it actually WAS pretty fun. But, when you are at home thinking about how great it will be for the whole family to be together out doing something so special and rare, you forget about some of the details. Like the toddler who, the second you aren't looking, rolls a ball down someone else's lane. And the pitcher of soda that was spilled nearly the instant it arrived, making everyone's bowling shoes sticky. And the mix up of the bowling order that caused one child to tank a frame on someone else's score, resulting in a bit of strong feedback from one child to another.

However, watching Tony trot to the edge of the lane, shove the ball down it, wait breathlessly to see if any pins fell down and finally shout, "Yay, Tony!" (accompanied by enthusiastic self-applause) made the entire experience worthwhile.

Yes, indeed. Family fun. Exactly as a sane person might have imagined it would be in the first place. But not a crazy optimist like me. An optimist who is already excited about our next family adventure.

"Hold Her"

That's what I have been hearing, over and over again the last few weeks: "Hold her. Hold her."

Meaning, "Please, mom, can I hold Isabella?"

So, I let him.

The scene is always quickly followed by Tony's cheerful and emphatic "Done!", sometimes even within 2 or 3 seconds.

But oh, how sweet those precious seconds are.

That's My Boy

The one wearing the "England" shirt on Independence Day. David Beckham's jersey, to be exact, brought home from Jay's most recent visit to London.

He says he chose it because it was red, white and blue. Yet, when I pointed out he was supporting the very country from who we won the independence we were celebrating, he considered that to be a bonus rather than a problem. Not because he dislikes America. Not because our family is anything short of fiercely proud to be Americans. Just because he's Joey. (And I wouldn't have him any other way.)

My contrary child. I can't wait until he's 14.

12 Years

Who knew 12 years ago today when I married Jay that I would love him more now than I did on that perfect, wonderful day? I didn't, because I didn't think it was possible. But, as it turns out, I do.

Because, 12 years ago, I did not know what an amazing father he would be. With the birth of each child, my wonder at his fathering abilities increases. I am grateful beyond words that God chose this man to be daddy to my children. For he is far more than their provider. He is their role model, their companion and playmate, their security and their beacon...much as he is all of these things and more to me.

12 years ago, I did not know how his devotion to God would grow, and how that would become the pillar of strength that keeps our family so strong and happy.

I did not know then, as I do now, how hard he would work to provide well for his family, both at his job and around the house. I did not know how unflappable and reassuring he would be when life threw unexpected curves our way.

How could I have known that he would put the needs of all of his dependents in front of his own? I hoped, but could not be sure, that he would still tell me he loves me every day. And he does.

12 years later, he is still taking out the garbage, agreeably eating whatever I cook and putting up with my eccentricities. Not to mention changing diapers, mowing the lawn and assembling whatever random thing enters the house. It is in these little day to day things, done willingly and with good cheer, that I feel his love most of all. Lucky, lucky me. Lucky ALL of us.

Happy anniversary, Jay.

Four Months Old Already

Plus almost a week! Time flies...

Anyway, Isabella is now old enough to enjoy what one of my friends called "baby Vegas", her very own station of fun to be enjoyed while mom is preparing dinner, rotating laundry, or whatever needs to be done without a baby in arms.

I couldn't get a great shot of her because she was so busy bouncing up and down and reaching for the toys, but at least you can see that her signature tongue is still frequently on display.

Jay will be assembling her crib this week. She has become such a nighttime scooter that she is becoming a hazard in our bed. She lodges herself in the space between the mattress and the headboard and tunnels through barrier pillows as well. It's about time the all night snack bar closes for her as well. We will all sleep better, I'm sure. But I still am always sad when this milestone arrives, because I love her snuggled next to me.

Happy 1/3 birthday, my growing girl!

I Shouldn't Have Answered the Door Today

There is a boy who lives across the street from us who loves to come over and play. He is a nice enough kid, about 6 years old, who is an only child of dual working parents. He is alone a lot and likes the contrasting liveliness of our house. I welcome him over to play with the kids because I think it is good for him, and because my kids enjoy the addition of just about anyone to their mix.

Unfortunately, however, he is one of those kids you have to watch all the time because he seems to be lacking in common sense and the ability to follow directions. Most of the time my life gets easier when another child comes to play because it engages and occupies my children. But when this kid comes over it is work for me. Today was no exception.

It started with the dog. Our neighbor boy is a small child and claims to be afraid of the 200 pound puppy (now, who could believe THAT?!). So, I gave him very specific instructions about how to avoid engaging our playful giant. "Ignore him, don't run by him, pretend he's not there and he'll leave you alone." Simple enough, and quite effective when employed. So what does he do? Finds a squirt gun and walks straight up to the dog and starts shooting him in the mouth. Then he acts indignant when the dog runs after him barking. The boy was kindly corrected, took about a 10 minute break from this activity and then began anew. The second correction was not as kind and seemed to sink in.

Next came an aquatic adventure. The safety cover was off the pool because three of my kids were actively swimming when our friend arrived and continued to do so throughout his visit. Now, this boy cannot swim, so we've had many, many conversations with him about how it is NOT OK to come in our gate, walk by the pool, etc., etc. Luckily, I never considered for one second that any of this actually penetrated his consciousness and I watched him very carefully during this visit, even more carefully than usual because the pool was open. So, when I saw him approaching the deep end of the pool pushing a bicycle, I was already on my feet and headed his way when he inevitably plunged in, bike and all.

I am a trained lifeguard and water safety instructor (I even rescued a six year old boy back when it was my summer job), so I was never actually scared. It was not difficult to pull this spluttering, sinking, completely panicked child out of the water. No, I was not afraid. Just annoyed. REALLY ANNOYED. Because I had to jump in the deep end, fully clothed and rescue this kid because he is clueless.

The poor kid was really shaken up, although I still cannot understand why he was surprised that he sunk when he knows he can't swim and he, to my eye, almost dared himself to fall in. I have never seen eyes so wide. He kept saying, "I am SO sorry, I am SO sorry." I tried to be kind, and I think I marginally succeeded, but even as I was swimming him to the side of the pool I was already reading him the riot act. I might have waited until he was dry, but I could not. I didn't even think to give the poor kid a towel (it's OK, it was 98 degrees outside) much less any sympathy. I marched him, both of us dripping, right across the street and delivered him to his mom who seemed relatively unconcerned about the incident, simply telling her son that if he didn't listen better he couldn't come play at my house anymore. To top it off, she looked at me and said, "Oh, it looks like you went swimming too." That was too much for me. I emphatically said, "Yes, I HAD TO JUMP IN AND SAVE YOUR SON BECAUSE HE FELL IN MY POOL AND HE CANNOT SWIM!" She answered this by letting me know that he was taking lessons. I can only give her the benefit of the doubt and say she must have had trouble processing exactly what happened. Either that or we simply have drastically different parenting styles.

Anyway, today I had a healthy reminder of what a liability both a backyard pool and a large dog can be. No matter how clueless a child or indifferent his parent may be, if something were to happen to this child at my home, it would be my fault. The very thought makes me want to fill in the pool and sedate the dog. Or never, ever, have anyone over. Ever. But we can't live life like this, can we? We can only take prudent precautions and pray, pray, pray. If we start engaging in "what ifs", we would cease to live at all.

But perhaps, just to be safe, this particular child should not be allowed in my yard in the future. Let's just hope he can't find anything life-threatening upstairs in the play room. Wait a minute...are the screens barred?!

Brownie Points

If you're a girl in a huge family who just wants to spend a little alone time with her parents, I recommend that you join a Brownie troop. Through the various events sponsored by an active council, you can be just like an only child...for a few wonderful hours.

Last Saturday Jay and Lindsey went to a Father-Daughter dance. Needless to say, this mom got a bit emotional seeing the two of them go off together, all gussied up and delighted to be in each other's company. I curled Lindsey's hair (for the first time!) and she looked like a true princess in her gown with her ringlets. There were corsages and boutonnieres, lots of fun (Macarena, anyone? Electric Slide?!) and, of course, Cold Stone Creamery afterwards.

Before they went, Lindsey asked me what they would be doing at the dance since it is a well-known fact in our family that daddy doesn't dance. Ever. I assured her that Jay would muster up some dancing because he loves her so very much. She didn't miss a beat when asking why, then, didn't he allow dancing of any kind at our wedding. Didn't he love me too, she wondered? Hmm. Good question, Lindsey. I'll have to think hard about an answer to that one. Still thinking...

A few weeks before, Lindsey and I (and Isabella, of course) went to Brownie Mother-Daughter Bowling. We had a really great time. The only sad part was that, even with the gutter rails up, I STILL couldn't break 100. It's an embarrassment, really. But it didn't mar our day at all.

While we're on the topic of Lindsey, I should report that she had the pleasure of seeing the orthodontist today.

As you can see, her permanent teeth are coming in crooked and, as I found out, orthodontic treatment begins much earlier now than it did when I had my braces (at 14-16 years old). Apparently, her jaw is too small for the teeth that are coming in. At one time this was corrected by extracting teeth to make more room, but now her mouth will actually be spread to be made big enough to accommodate all her teeth. This process began today with molds and spacers and will continue with a spreading appliance placed in about two weeks. In about three months she will get braces, which she will wear for approximately 15 months and then we will wait and see whether she needs further treatment after the rest of her permanent teeth come in.

I was delighted to learn that we have orthodontic benefits provided so thoughtfully by Jay's employer. They cover half of this first phase and I am tickled pink. I have decided that he is not allowed to leave his employer until all of our children have been evaluated for orthodontia. Not that he wants to leave this job that he loves, thankfully! But I'm just being practical. Six kids, you know. That's a lot of teeth.

So, to summarize the message of this post: join a Brownie troop and find a job that offers good dental insurance. My advice, for what it's worth.

Thirsty

What do you do if you're outside and and you decide you want a drink?

If you have opposable thumbs, you simply turn on the hose bib and help yourself to some water.

If, however, you happen to be a 200lb puppy, you just rip the entire hose bib out of the wall and enjoy the gushing, unstoppable fountain of water it produces.

Never mind that there was an ENTIRE bucket of water right next to the hose from which you could drink...because the resident toddler threw some dirt in there and, even though you might eat some pretty disgusting things, you most definitely draw the line at cloudy water.

Thumbs. Who needs 'em?

Peaceful

It is very quiet in my house.

This is quite unusual. Normally, if I want quiet, I have to leave. But this time, the noise left me! Or most of it, anyway.

Tonight Jay, Joey, Lindsey, Sam and Julia are camping out on the field of the Lancaster Jethawks stadium. (The Jethawks are a minor league affiliate of the Boston Red Sox.) It is Girl Scout Night, so many local troops are camping there, about 200 people in all. Lindsey was happy to share her Scouting event with the whole family...unlike another, nameless family member who wants it to just be dad and him when it is Boy Scout night. We don't call him "daddy hog" for nothing!

Anyway, we all went to the game, and then I brought Tony and Isabella home. Even though camping on an outfield of a sports stadium is WAY preferable to sleeping in dirt as far as I'm concerned, I was still not willing to spend the night in one tent-room with a toddler and an infant. Call me selfish if you want...

I just talked to Jay and heard that they are having a great time. They were eating s'mores and getting ready to watch a movie on the stadium's jumbo-tron. I am very glad he is willing to do these sorts of things with the kids, because if it were up to me they would likely have been deprived of this wholesome event. Hauling tents, sleeping bags and coolers is just not up my alley. But I'm really glad they are enjoying it together.

Meanwhile, having just two little ones at home with me this evening is a relative piece of cake. It is hard to believe that at one time I would have been completely overwhelmed with a toddler and infant alone (I was, of course, when Joey and Lindsey were little). I can see from this how I have grown as a mom, that with experience all things become easier. I'm glad I have so many kids so I can enjoy the fruits of my hard-earned experience!

Well, my NICE, SOFT, CLEAN bed is beckoning. I will be appreciating it--and Jay--all the more tonight, knowing that Jay is on the ground for love of the children.

Tagged for "8 Random Facts" Meme

I have been tagged by Nutmeg to complete the "8 Random Facts" Meme.

“For this meme, each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.”

1. I can't stand to have dirt on my hands or feet, nor can I stand it when they are excessively dry. I am constantly washing and applying lotion to both. For this reason, I won't wear sandals anytime I might be walking in dirt, and I almost always wear socks or slippers, even when it's really hot. This persistent quirk of mine virtually eliminates camping from my list of "fun things to do with the family" and has kept me from gardening (until recently, when I discovered the joy of garden gloves).

2. I can resist many things, but I nearly always succumb to warm chocolate chip cookies (without nuts).

3. Planning for, cooking, and cleaning up after dinner are less effort for me combined than actually plating the food and getting it to the table. I don't know why this is.

4. No matter what I'm doing, I always feel like I should be doing something else. This is somewhat unsettling.

5. I like (and watch) some morally void television: Grey's Anatomy and Desperate Housewives, to be specific. I love these shows. Somewhere deep down my conscience is telling me that I should probably watch things more consistent with my personal values, but for now I am adopting Scarlett O'Hara's motto: "I'll think about that tomorrow." Because the truth is, I am not ready to give these up. And who says I'm getting no moral direction? After all, I've most certainly learned from Gabrielle Solis to never, ever sleep with my gardener (if I had one, of course!).

6. I am currently engaged in a "100 day challenge", sponsored by myself, to stick to the Weight Watchers program. I am competitive by nature and find it easier to work toward a challenge than to simply watch what I eat. For each of 100 consecutive days that I stick to the Weight Watchers point system, I will allow myself $5 toward the purchase of living room furniture (our living room has been empty ever since we moved in, more than a year ago, and only I care about filling it so it has never bubbled to the top of our priority list). I am currently on Day 10 (10% done already!) and will end September 6th. I hope to lose 20 lbs (10 from Isabella and 10 from Tony), but my final weight is less important to me than simply sticking to the plan for 100 days. Wish me luck!

7. I am not a dog person. I used to be, and I wish I were still, but alas I am not. This quality left me right about the time I had children. At some point, dogs became messy and inconvenient rather than cute and companionable. I mourn this change in my character, all the more actively because of the very messy and inconvenient presence of our soon to be 200+ pound Mastiff puppy. But, as I heard Dr. Laura advise someone just today: keeping a harmonious home, where the people matter more than the mess, is the "right thing to do". That ridiculous animal makes my husband really, really happy, and he matters more than the mess and inconvenience.

8. Speaking of my husband, I would rather spend time with him than do anything else on earth. Period. It doesn't have to be alone time (although I love that rare treat too!)--I am delighted to share him with the kids, extended family and friends, as long as he is here. I am only truly settled when we are in the same place.

How's that for random? I don't know 8 people to tag since most of the blogs I read have already done this one. So, I tag Andrea and all you non-bloggers who read this (just complete it in my comment section).

Mottos For The Home Stretch

Summer is on its way, and no one is more excited than me.

The last few weeks of school are so stressful and busy that I actually need two full months to brace myself for the next school year!

"One day at a time" is my motto right now, because every day has its tasks: bring bagged lunches for the Kindergartners to donate to St. Vincent de Paul, remember to cut the 8th grade scholarship checks in time for their graduation breakfast (I'm the treasurer), don't forget to send in a special snack so the class can celebrate Sam's summer birthday before school lets out, etc., etc., etc. Obviously, these are all worthwhile items, but when there are three or more of these types of things for every single day between now and June 15th, it gets to be too much for this mom. And, don't forget, I'm trying to cram in the rest of Joey's lessons so he will be done at the same time as the other kids. Whew!

Usually, homeschoolers have the benefit of not having to jump through all the physical school-related hoops to balance all the time that giving the actual lessons takes. I, however, have all of those hoops (for two different schools) in addition to the homeschooling time because I'm the dummy that mixes the two concepts! But, still, I wouldn't change it. "What every child needs" is another motto of mine, and we are living that one.

At any rate, June 15th can't come fast enough for me. "I think I can, I think I can..."

Microcosms

Our family spent a totally delightful afternoon at a Knights of Columbus BBQ today. It was specifically designed for the new Knights to get better involved with the organization, so there were lots of younger men with children there in addition to the old guard. There were sack races, water balloon fights, organized sports, horseshoes, a jumper, cotton candy, etc., etc. so needless to say the kids--and the adults--had a great time.

For those of you who don't know much about the Knights of Columbus, it is a Catholic, fraternal organization. It makes money through the sale of insurance (and, at least in our area, an active bingo program), and then generously delivers this money back to the community. Our Knights support the local Catholic schools, all sorts of youth ministries, the pregnancy resource center, the list goes on and on.

Jay has really found a home with the Knights. To him, it is the perfect marriage of prayer and beer. To me, it is a "who's who" in our community, a gathering of all the people who share our family's values. These are the people I want to invest time with, the people whose children I want my children to know. And they're all conveniently together in one banquet hall, event after event!

It was surprising to me, then, to hear that some people don't care too much for the Knights as an organization. The comment was made, by someone who was not from our area, that the Knights are Catholic in name only, that they are really just a social club. Here in Lancaster, that could not be farther from the truth. These are the men you see at daily mass. These men, especially the older ones, are doing everything they can to support and sustain young families. This organization, through their generous donations, helped to save more than 200 babies last year alone by keeping the pregnancy resource center open. These men support our priests. In fact, all three of our priests are Knights. Until I heard this comment, I had assumed that all Knights of Columbus councils are just like ours, but apparently they are not.

The same can be said of the Cub Scouts. I was talking to someone recently who was telling me what a nightmare participation in the Scouts had been for her son. Our experience with our den has been nothing short of wonderful over the past two years. The parents are involved, the kids get along well together, the pack is active. I did not know that this was not universal.

Before these recent conversations, I hadn't really considered how different the same organization can be in various places. We are so used to chains, like McDonald's, where no matter where you go the offering is completely predictable. But this is not true of social and philanthropic organizations, apparently. What matters is the people making them happen wherever you are.

But, as Jay rightly pointed out to me tonight, in addition to mattering where you are, it also matters who you are. People join these types of organizations for different reasons, and a lot of a person's experience depends on the expectations going in, and how much of oneself one is willing to bring to the table. Jay and I, for example, tend to be "joiners". We jump in and volunteer for lots of things, and, because of this, we get to know other members fairly quickly and feel comfortable in how things are done. Someone who prefers to get involved by sticking a toe at a time in the water might find it to be tepid and unfriendly.

Regardless of how or why, I believe that we have found some lovely (and, apparently, all-too-rare) microcosms in our life. We live in a community that may be physically dry and barren, but it is quite lush and fertile in producing people of character. We are fortunate to be among them.

A Bad Tooth Day

So, you know how when you move it can take you awhile to get into the swing of your new community? Things like figuring out where the grocery store, the dry cleaner and the post office are happen right away. Finding a pediatrician, when you have six kids, follows shortly after. Inevitably, however, some things lag behind. Such as finding a dentist.

I am ashamed to admit that it has been nearly two years since I have been to the dentist. I went regularly before we moved but just haven't dealt with finding a new dentist down here. I took the kids to their old dentist last summer for checkups when we were in town for bible camp, and this only further reduced my urgency to take care of this detail of our new life.

In the last month or so, Julia has been complaining of a toothache, so I finally had to get my act together and find a dentist. I asked people for recommendations and finally settled on a family dentist rather than the pediatric/adult dual dentist situation I had up north. Simplify, simplify! Anyway, in making the appointment for Julia I figured I had better get myself taken care of too and since I had already picked a dentist for us all, I had no further excuses.

Now, I figured I would need a little work. A thorough cleaning. A repair of a chip in some old bonding. An old silver filling that looked as if it had seen better days. But since I take pretty good care of my teeth by flossing regularly and using a sonicare toothbrush, I was in no way prepared for what his high-tech tooth camera made very clear, even to my untrained eyes: my teeth are a mess!

I need--now brace yourself--two crowns and 12 fillings. Yes, I did say 12. As in a dozen. I really should be too embarrassed to admit this in a public forum, but since becoming a mother I have no pride left, so what the hey.

It would be my inclination to believe this new dentist was exaggerating my need for dental work in an effort to fill his pockets, but I could not ignore the visual evidence. I myself could see large fractures in two molars, hairline fractures in two more. These teeth are just waiting for the crunchy tidbit that will split them in half. The old silver fillings were literally crumbling and I could see the dark pits of cavities in previously healthy teeth. To top this off, I need some sort of special deep cleaning to repair the gum damage I did in letting my teeth go uncleaned for so long.

I asked the dentist if this was some sort of record, and he said, to my chagrin, that my teeth weren't bad at all compared to some he had seen. How scary is that?! He further "reassured" me by saying that my teeth were simply aging along with the rest of me. Soothing, that comment was, let me tell you.

At any rate, he and I are about to become good friends, I'm afraid. Just how I wanted to spend my summer...in the dentist's chair.

Now doesn't this make you want to go and brush?

The Unlikely Gardener

Those of you who know me well know that I don't have a green thumb. It's more like a black thumb, since any plant I touch suffers a certain, rapid death.

I have never been able to understand this. I am an intelligent, determined person, and almost anything I really want to do, I can at least become proficient at. But so far, gardening has eluded me.

Even my littlest kids know I am famous for this. Which is why, when they saw me plant a few things in our still-sparse yard this week, they actually mourned the plants in advance. "Why do you want to kill those nice plants, mom?!"

This insult is added to injury because both my mother and mother-in-law are talented gardeners, who can grow pretty much anything (although both specialize in spectacular roses). So the kids like to throw in helpful comments like, "Why don't you just let grandma do that, because she won't kill them." Thanks, kids.

At any rate, I have been taken down with a case of spring planting fever and am, once again, trying my hand at gardening. I, who couldn't even successfully plant in fertile Northern California, am attempting to create Eden in the High Desert, a place where even the best gardeners have trouble thanks to our extreme hots and colds, high winds and sandy soil. I am doomed to fail, yet I am enthusiastically trying again.

Why? Because I love to see green when I look outside, and there isn't a lot of that here naturally. Because if I can nurture six children, shouldn't I be able to keep a few plants alive? Because anything that beats me down only makes me more determined to succeed.

I am not flying blindly. When we planned the hardscape for our dirt lot over a year ago, our landscape designer threw in a planting plan that included plants suited for our desert climate. So, today I began executing that plan by planting Purple Fountain Grasses, Daylilies, Rosemary and Roses. Tomorrow I will attempt to find and plant a California Glory Flannelbush, some Blue Oat Grasses, some Honeysuckle, some Lion's Tail and a Foxtail Agave. We have a very large planting perimeter so I have begun with a 16 x 3 foot section to see how it goes. If I am even marginally successful I will extend that area on both sides until I have completed the plan.

I am mostly buying from Lowes who has a one year guarantee on all plants, and you can bet I'm saving those receipts. I will likely be needing them.

That's Why I Married Him

I was a grump today. G-R-U-M-P.

This certainly would have been a good day to practice the Christian virtue of cheerfulness, but I did not take advantage of this opportunity. Rather, I groused and grumbled through the whole day.

After a long afternoon of bickering children and little patience on my part, I finally met up with Jay, who took one look at me and declared "family ice cream night!" He took us all to Baskin Robbins, insisting that I partake as a medicinal measure.

I love that man.

Three Months Old Already

Happy baby, light in our family, gift from God. What a joy you are, Isabella! Just three months in the family, yet we already can't imagine ever having been without you.

Sacraments and Milestones

It was a big weekend here at the Di Silvestri house.

Isabella was baptized on Saturday by our friend, Deacon Ron. He baptized 18 babies in an hour and a half, and these baptisms were sandwiched in between two (of five) first communion services for the religious education students of our parish. What a beautiful reminder of how active our thriving parish is (although I must admit that I did enjoy the individual baptisms of our other children in our smaller, quieter parish in Northern California)!

Here is sweet Isabella with her godparents, Colin and Melissa:

Isabella is wearing the same "white garment" that all of her siblings and, more notably, her father, were baptized in. I love this tradition and truly hope it will live on another generation.

The next day, Sunday, was Joey's 9th birthday, and we had a big party to celebrate. This was truly wonderful, because Joey has not had a birthday party since we moved down South. It was hard for him to leave his friends up north and it took him awhile to make friends down here. Being homeschooled this year has not helped speed this friend-making process up, so I was thrilled when he decided he wanted to have a party this year, and even more thrilled when I realized that he actually does have quite a few friends down here now, and that they are a really great bunch of kids.

There were about 25 kids at Joey's party. They were from Sacred Heart School (boys he met when he attended there last year and still sees at school events we attend with his still-enrolled siblings), from his Cub Scout pack and from his baseball team. In addition, there were friends he made in one grandmother's neighborhood and one grandmother's Daughters of Norway group.

This was a milestone birthday for me, as it marks him halfway to adulthood. Gulp. How can this be? How can my active mothering of Joey be halfway over? I can't think about this too much or I get unbearably sad. Nine years from now the children will begin the flying away process and I can't bear to think of it. I am well aware that I am currently living the best years of my life, years when all of my children are safely at home and we are all together. I don't want this to end! But, alas, it must. And, those who have been through the teenage years tell me that, in another nine years, I will actually be ready. Perhaps they are right, but I can't imagine it from where I sit now.

At any rate, Joey, I wish you a very happy birthday. You are such an amazing person. I love spending time with you. You are clever, funny, insightful and loving. You have a generous heart and a genuine concern for others. I am very proud of the young man you are growing to be and feel so privileged to be your mother. I plan to treasure the remaining half of your childhood with all of my heart. I love you!

Happy Birthday, Julia!

So, I'm running a bit late. Her birthday was last Sunday (Mother's Day). But anyone who reads this blog knows that my motto is "better late than never", so I had to stop and wish Julia a very happy 4th birthday.

Julia Mae, our dear, sweet daughter, we love you so very much! My big helper, our fish-girl (because she loves to swim so much), Isabella and Tony's nurturing big sister. You are all of these things and many more. You are a bright light in our family and we are so glad God sent you to us four years ago.

Happy, happy birthday!

Finding Equilibrium

After many combinations, they finally found one that worked for good teeter-tottering.

Isn't this like life? We're all searching for balance, and only through trial and error can we figure out what works.

And, just when we think we've got it figured out, someone gets off and we start all over again.

Abbey Road

Thanks to the magic of the internet, we were able to be tourists with Jay this morning. Here he is, crossing Abbey Road at roughly 4pm London time today:

Thank you, Abbey Road webcam, for bringing us this fine family moment!

Someday

Someday I will be able to sleep as late as I want to on Mother's Day. But this Mother's Day I was awakened early with a coo and greeted with a wet, gummy baby smile.

Lucky me.

Someday I will be served breakfast in bed on Mother's Day. But this Mother's Day I hopped out of bed and served my small children breakfast because my husband was up early himself, frantically assembling a basketball hoop for his son in the garage, only because he thought everyone was still sleeping.

What a wonderful dad my children have.

Someday I will receive sophisticated gifts from grown children on Mother's Day. But this Mother's Day I opened hand drawn cards with wobbly printing, filled with treasures from their hearts: a hand beaded rosary, a colored rose with a child's photo in the middle, a paper flower, earrings to replace ones my son noticed I had lost.

Could there be better gifts?

Someday I won't have to do any work on Mother's Day. But this Mother's Day, after eating a delicious brunch prepared by a loving husband, I diligently cleaned the kitchen as he raced out the door to catch a plane for a week-long business trip to England.

How lucky we are that Jay has a job that provides for us so well.

I sure hope "someday" takes it time in arriving.

Survival Training

Tonight I was busy at work around the house while the kids were playing, relatively harmoniously, all together. I tuned in and out to what they were doing, keeping an ear out for high-level arguments, extreme mess making and physical harm, but was mostly delighted that they were leaving me alone to get some much needed housework out the way.

As I passed through their play space, it began to dawn on me that their game was oddly familiar. Some sort of ritual I had witnessed dozens of times. I slowed down to make sense of it, and this is what I saw: Joey was standing expectantly over the kids with a box in his hand, looking official. Lindsey, Sam and Julia were scribbling madly on pieces of paper. As I watched, they folded them and placed them in the box, taking a seat on the floor when they were done. Joey said, in a very familiar cadence, "I'll go tally the votes."

Darned if they weren't voting one of themselves out, Survivor-style. Out of what, I don't know (the family?! I hope not!) but it had something to do with sharing Joey's popcorn while we watched American Idol later in the evening, so I wasn't too alarmed.

There are two shows we watch as a family each week: Survivor and American Idol. We really enjoy this time, predicting together what will happen next. We especially love the challenges on Survivor. The kids talk about them all week. So, I knew they were in to Survivor, but I was nonetheless stunned at how dead-on Joey's impersonation of Jeff Probst was, and how perfectly the children carried out their role as voters without any instruction. They knew just what to do, each playing their part.

This reminds me of what sponges kids are. I figured they were just understanding the challenges, but the social aspects of the show are not lost on them either. They see everything, processing at a subconscious level as well as at the surface. I don't have a problem with what they absorb from a show like Survivor, but I should never assume that anything we watch with them is over their head.

I must say, Joey was not a bad host. Now, if one of them could just bring home the million dollars...

By the way, the Di Silvestri picks for the winners are nearly unanimous in our family: Blake (although after last night's performances the vote is in a minority split for Jordin) for American Idol and Yeoman for Survivor. We shall see!

Every Day's A Party

"Ahh, you're having a party!" said the cheerful pizza delivery man at the door, as he looked past me, through the house and out to the yard where masses of squealing children were running around in bathing suits.

"Nope." I replied. "Tonight it's just us."

I Suppose I Deserved It

Yesterday at the school picnic, Jay brought folding chairs for us to sit in. He gave me the nice one and took the aging one for himself. So you'd think I'd have been really kind and sympathetic to him when he sat down, cracked the chair and rolled over backwards onto the grass. But no. I laughed, as I have a tendency to do in these situations (remember Joey riding his bike into the pool?) Yep, I had a real good laugh. Naturally, if he had been hurt (or Isabella, since he was holding her at the time and did a fantastic job of keeping her safe during his tumble) I wouldn't have laughed. But he looked so, well, surprised, that I just couldn't help myself. I laughed, along with him, until tears were running down my face.

When I got home, I took Isabella out of her car seat and perched on one of our wicker and wood bar stools in the kitchen to nurse her while I watched the kids running around in the back yard. To my total surprise, with a loud crack the chair broke into three pieces and down I went onto the tile. Poor Isabella. Twice in one day! Poor me! My tailbone hit the tile hard but, miraculously, someone had left one of those gardening kneeling pads on the floor and my head landed there so I was fine. So was Isabella, although she was not happy about the sudden movement or the noise.

Karma? Divine justice? Something! This must have been a case of the universe evening things up. It is true that what goes around comes around, it's just usually not in the same day. And what Isabella had to do with it, I'll never know.

Perhaps I should attempt to contain my amusement at the future comic misfortunes of my beloved family members. Perhaps we should begin a family diet.

The Karate Champ...and Success in General

Warning, maternal bragging ahead. Proceed with caution!

The Karate Kid (Sam) can go by a new title now: Karate Champ! In his first tournament, my young son brought home a second place trophy for foot sweeping. This is significant because he was the only white belt in his group--he competed against gold and purple belts, and still only lost to one kid (a purple belt). In addition, he earned a gold medal for his performance in team foot sweeping.

His teacher told Jay after the match, "Sammy is an animal!" Odd, but that is the exact same words his soccer coach used last fall. Animal. I'm not sure if I should be proud or dismayed, but it does seem to be an accurate description of Sam in any competition.

I'll say this for Sam: he is not afraid. Some of the other kids danced around each other, waiting for the right time to make their move. Not Sam. As soon as he got the start signal he went for it, bam. I guess this surprised his opponents. Whatever works, eh?

Anyway, it was a good sports day all around for our family. After the tournament we went to the Sacred Heart School family picnic where the kids played the parents in softball. Joey had a great hit, first pitch, and I was thrilled for him. Then, to my surprise, Lindsey and Sam, neither of whom had ever played baseball before, also got base hits. At one point, the bases were loaded with Di Silvestris. That was a nice moment for me.

It is such a joy for a mother to see her children succeed, and I have seen a lot of that lately, not just on the sports field, either. All of the kids are doing well in school, and Joey in particular has made great strides of late. They are playing well together most of the time, some taking a leadership role, some accepting that leadership. They are taking more responsibility around the house and with a generally good attitude. It is wonderful to see.

Go team Di Silvestri!

Overheard at a Catholic School

A friend, whose children attend a Catholic school in Los Angeles county, shared this conversation that she overheard in the parking lot:

Child: Mom, will you be at my show today?

Mom: No, I'm sorry, sweetie, I have a hair appointment.

Child: Please?!

Mom: No, I'm sorry, I just can't.

Child: PLEASE?!

Mom (now frustrated): Sweetie, if Jesus himself came down from heaven to give me a blessing I could not be there. I HAVE A HAIR APPOINTMENT!

* * *

It's not like I've never missed an event or two for selfish reasons. But, I'm quite certain that I would be able to make it if Jesus was passing out blessings.

Did I mention my friend is changing to another Catholic school where the parents actually practice the faith? I don't blame her.

Intricacies of the Human Brain

While I was going through Lindsey's homework folder, I noticed the way she wrote her name in one of her workbooks:

Notice how her first name is completely backwards--not only the order of the letters, but the letters themselves (most of them, anyway). It seems as if she wrote this while looking in a mirror. Yet, our last name, written at the same time is correct.

Lindsey writes her name properly most of the time, but once in awhile it pops out backwards like this. Sometimes every single one of the letters is backwards, not just most as in this sample. She doesn't realize it when she does it; nothing looks odd to her until it is pointed out.

I don't think I could do this if I tried, and I don't think she could either. It is something involuntary, some strange quirk of the brain that she doesn't consciously control. It demonstrates to me how complicated and mysterious our brains are.

Fascinating, don't you think?