Brynach These Days

I've never published my kids real names.  Inadvertently, they may have popped up in the comments through family or close friends.  But I've always been vigilant about keeping them anonymous.  Always. But just this once, I'm going to break protocol and talk about each child by name.  Mostly because I want to remember this crazy time.  And also because we have many long distance family members who want to know, and long to see, our growing peanuts.

Brynach is our Little Dude.  Born just 7 short weeks ago.  He is, by far, the noisiest of the bunch... and the most needy.  Especially today.  The mama of the house got a whopping 3 hours of sleep last night thanks to his royal fussiness.  And today has not been promising in the nap department.  Thank goodness DH took the day off.  Too bad he thinks he did it for car repairing projects.

:P

Bryn is our precious gift.  Yes, even after a measly 3 hours of sleep I can still say that and actually mean it.  We didn't think our family would ever reach 6 children, and the fact that it did is such a blessing.  He has already stolen all of our hearts, and now repays our drooling attentiveness with drools of his own.  Cooing and occasionally even smiling, he is constantly the center of attention.

So much a part of the family, he has already been incorporated into the games of Little Love and Little Boo.  The other day as I folded laundry, the girls decided Bryn and I were aliens and they needed to "kidnap" the alien baby.  I was to walk over to his "happy chair" (as they call it) and "discover" he was missing.  As I did so, they ran away from behind the couch, giggling. I walked back to my laundry... only to discover Bryn tucked into one of the laundry baskets, perfectly cozy and content.  An unwitting playmate in their game.

Of course, he is simply beautiful.  I love his tender face, his half-drunk milk-drooly smile as he nurses.  His deep blue eyes seem so serious as he takes in his surroundings and processes what it all must mean.

And I want him to understand... it means you are loved, littlest one. 

So much loved.

It fills us all to the bursting.

:)

A Must Read...

You Cannot Steal My Joy.


Happy Advent, my friends!


:)

A Blessedly Ordinary Birth Story

Looking out of my two eyes, I saw my feet, for, perhaps, the first time in awhile.  I felt the weight that they had to bear, the unyielding gravitational pull.  And I felt my knees weaken at this pressure.  For the first time in my life, my earthly body seemed nothing less than a burden.  A burden to be borne and endured, not adorned and arrayed.  And I could truly whisper to myself that the promise of the Kingdom to come is surely a blessing and a welcome comfort.

~Nutmeg, 2004

I started blogging when Little Love was 8 months old.  The above was written by me in my (handwritten!) journal after a particularly difficult c-section recovery with her.  I had gained a lot of weight that pregnancy, and the after-effects of the pain medication, coupled with an extremely colicky baby was taking it's toll.  Throw in my stair-stepped children (ages 2,4,5 and 7) and I was seriously pushing the limit of my sanity.  Other moms are more resilient, I'm sure.  But #5 drove me to my knees.  Don't get me wrong, I was so thrilled to have my Little Love.  A traumatic miscarriage one month before conceiving her had cured me of any selfish doubts.  But it was by far the most difficult recovery I've ever had.


Naturally, I've been gun shy ever since.  After Little Dude's existence was made known to us, I was thrilled, but cautious.  Ok, who am I kidding... I was scared sh*tless.   I did not want to go through the fear and anxiety I experienced during the surgery... did not want the horrific recovery... did not want the colicky baby with acid reflux.  I wasn't sure that all of my longing for another little one would turn out to be the best thing for us.

*smile*

The morning of Little Dude's scheduled birth, I explained to DH my need for some Mama time.  I needed to shower, to do my hair, to accomplish some detailed grooming... because I knew it would be at least a week before I would be strong enough to give any attention to detail in regards to personal hygiene.  Sorry, (tmi?) but surgery recovery is no picnic.  And I knew it.

Surprisingly, I was calm.  Begging for prayers from all corners of the internet and real world friends, I was amazed at the effects. I had a game plan, and was following it to the letter.  Baby steps, I decided.  Take one thing at a time.  First step, pack.  Next step, get to the hospital.  And so on from there. At each turn, I would take a deep breath and submit.  Hospital gown?  check.  I.V. line?  check.  Scary consult with the Anesthetist? You betcha. Throughout all of this, my mind focused on something I had read that morning.  A poor woman had revealed on the Faith and Family blog that her husband was caught in the throes of a porn addiction.  My heart ached for her, and I was moved to promise her that I would offer up my sufferings that day for her. Oh, to think that maybe my meager sufferings could aid in his release from that bondage!  My resolve was hardened.

The peace was unbelievable.

There were moments of pain and panic, I will not lie.  I have a slight scoliosis in the base of my spine, and the positioning of the epidural was tricky... and painful.  Having the anesthesiologist ask you which nerves were spazzing out as he pushed the needle one way or the other?  Yeah.  Not pleasant.  Lying down on your side to let the medicine have easier access to that one side that wasn't quite numbing properly? Wondering if they'd have to redo it?  And what about the surgery?  Eeeek.  Yes, there were moments of panic.  DH was not allowed in to the O.R. at that point either.  I had forgotten about that.  He would not be allowed in until I was numbed and the sheet was positioned.  And that added to my anxiety.  To be suffering and in pain and confusion without my stronghold beside me.  That was probably the hardest part. But I remembered my resolve.  I was determined to hang on to my peace.  And the prayers carried me through.

And as the medicine took effect, DH was ushered in.  He took my hand and smiled.

My arms were outstretched and the words of Our Lord took root in me. This is my body... given up for you.  I was fully living this truth at the time that the first incision was recorded.

During the surgery, with all of it's strange sounds and smells, I had my eyes closed.  My doctor asked how I was doing, and the nurse anesthetist said I was smiling.  Strange, huh.  I was thinking about Little Dude, and how we would meet him soon.  And I couldn't wait.

The moment I heard Little Dude... the tears sprang up, unexpectedly.  And as I laughed them away, I remembered that I always cry when I first hear those wails.  They wrapped him up and laid him on my outstretched arm, close enough so I could kiss his face.  My arms still immobile, DH held him in place for me. As my doctors finished their work, I lost all sense of time just gazing at his face.  And during recovery, the protocol at the hospital is for complete skin on skin time.  Having him nurse and snuggling him close made the time go by quickly.  I can barely remember my doctor checking in on me before he headed home.  Something about how it all went well.... and then he was gone.


My doctor.   A few words about him.  He is Catholic, Pro-life and NFP-only.  Knowing that the man who was performing the surgery was most likely in the state of grace gave me a confidence that I hadn't thought of before.  I could almost picture the guardian angels guiding his hands.  He is meticulous.  So much so that he refuses to deliver his own children... afraid that his emotions would cause him to lose focus.  He plays the role of dad then... but for us, he was all business.  And I just love him for that.

After I was home a few days, and reflecting on how God's grace and many prayers carried me through each hurdle of recovery.... (first time up, first shower, removal of bandages, then removal of staples, etc) It dawned on me that it's really all about trust.  Trust in God.  Trust in your caregivers.  Being rolled from the operating table to the recovery bed and then onto my hospital bed.... ever had that done?  They tip you on your side, then lift you by the sheets and plop you on the other bed.  I was completely numb, staring at the floor, as they tipped me one way, and then another.  Totally helpless.  But I had to trust.  If I freaked out just a little, tried to steady myself with my arms... then the IV bag would have gone flying, and in their surprise, the nurses may have lost their grip on me.  And those nurses?  They are good. Protecting my dignity, soothing my fears, all while letting you know that this is routine.  It's done all the time.  And while you are uniquely you... you are also just part of their normal day.  And there is something really comforting in knowing that.

How much more God loves us.  He paralyzes us with his love.  Tips us one way, then another.  Only asking us to trust, not to freak out.

Because his grip on us is secure.

And there is something even more comforting about that.

Telling

We've had to implement a new rule at the Nut House these days. 


#11.  No fighting over the baby.



:P

Not The Brightest Apple....

Mama (yelling):  Ok, everybody... time to get our school work finished!  Up and at 'em!  Let's go!
(I wander off to check my e-mail... and notice that I am being gmail "chatted" by my own son.)

SPORTS FAN!!!!  Get down here!
(he comes waltzing downstairs....)

Why are you on the computer??  Didn't you hear what I said?

Sports Fan(incredulously):  How did you know??


:P

The Craziness of our Days

I want to remember this time... this blessed time when my entire life is ruled by a little man who is not yet two feet tall.  Who cannot even hold his own head up, and spits up constantly.  Who cuddles and snugs and makes the funniest faces when trying to wake up... and who is the center of our universe these days.


We are in survival mode here in the Nut House.  Those of you with little ones right now know (and are living out!) exactly what I mean.  Other Mamas of littles now grown will nod in remembrance.  It is a crazy time.  But a blessed time of crystal clear priorities...

~The baby is screaming, he must be picked up/changed/fed/held/rocked.

The dishes can wait.

~The children need some family time.  Some games/movies/mom-and-dad/special time....

The laundry can wait to be folded.  Need something? Look in the clean basket.

~Mama needs a shower today.  No, really, it has become a priority.  ;)

The vacuuming will be done later.  Please hold Little Dude, and pass him to another older sibling if he fusses.

~Nap time! Which equals tv time!

Yes, I know the children have been watching all morning.  One more hour this afternoon won't rot their brains too much.  I just need them in one place so I can rest and not worry.



And so it goes.  Our housecleaning is haphazard at best.  DH is trying not to do absolutely everything.  He is such a do-er though.  And the kids are being rallied to constantly step up more and more to help him out.  Sat night their reward was a trip to the movies, how DH managed to stay awake after running errands all day is beyond me.

I stayed home and snuggled with Little Dude.  Because that is all I can manage to do these days.

That is my A- #1 Top Priority.

And I'm going to treasure it for as long as I can....

:)

While I Wrestle With The Written Word...

... in composing Little Dude's birth story...

I thought we were overdue for a wee bit of updating.

Here is our little man, as of yesterday....

He absolutely consumes me.  Constantly in my arms, I hardly ever put him down.  Most of this is by choice, of course, but I also anticipate some fussy days ahead.  (actually got a taste of that today.... eeek)

I am walking a tightrope these days...  finding that while I am eager (and sometimes downright impatient) to be fully 100% recovered, I also do not want to wish this first month away.  Because it will pass.. and all too quickly. I love this newborn stage... the snuggles, the smells, the utter dependency... so sweet.


The siblings are, by turns, helpful, joyful and somewhat oblivious in this new chapter of our family life.  The girls cannot stand to hear him cry and go rushing to his side at the slightest peep.  The boys can't stand it either, and they go running outside.  LOL.

Little Boo is most adamant about scooping him up and out of the arms of the failing comforter, especially in the evenings when DH is trying to keep the little man awake for a few hours.  She marches up to her dad, hands on her hips, demanding that he hand over the little guy.  Then she waltzes away with him, singing and snugging her baby brother.

It definitely is nice to have the extra set of arms.  It guarantees that I can get dressed most mornings.
;P

Thanks to our homeschool co-op, the kids are still able to keep up with their schooling, while learning important life lessons here at home.  Pitching in and helping out, or pushing limits and bending rules?  It's been an interesting transition.  But necessary, as we iron out our new roles and make room for this most welcomed little one.

We have amazing friends.  AMAZING.  Our meals are planned out, every weekday, from now until Dec 22nd.  Yes, you read that right.  Little Dude's godmama has been working the phone lines, keeping us well-fed.  We are so truly blessed.

And that's it for now.  The little man awaketh, and I must run.

Thanks for your many e-mails and well-wishes.

Life is full here, and so very very good.

:)

Our New Life...

I simply refuse to believe that it has been two weeks since I last posted.

TWO WEEKS.

Because, that would mean that little Dude would be an ENTIRE WEEK OLD today.

And that?   Is simply not possible.

And so... the starting of life... in pictures:


The clock in the operating room, marking the exact time.... (4:29pm)
















First night with Mama...

A visit from the siblings....

Gosh, there are a lot of them!!

Little Love is needing some extra attention as she rapidly assumes her role as a "big" sister....
:)

And, clearly, someone needs to do some explaining to Ben the Cat.

A longer, more eloquent post to come on how wondrous are the ways of God and how lucky we are to be a part of this communion of saints here on earth.

For now, please know that I am so very grateful for the outpouring of prayers and good wishes. I could feel the many graces carry me through each moment of the surgery and subsequent recovery. Prayer is so powerful!

Much love and prayers of thanksgiving to all~

:)

Overflowing

My inbox, that is. (along with my Facebook wall)

And, consequently, my heart.

:)

Thank you so much, my very dear friends, for all of the notes of encouragement and promises of prayer for tomorrow. With each and every note and e-mail, my spirits are lifted and my wary heart is strengthened. You have no idea how much it means to me to read this constant outpouring of love.

I am so excited to hold this little one... to behold his face and have his fingers curl around mine.  To know him and name him.  At long last.

Miraculously, I have been able to accomplish every task set before me this past week. Including confession today with a dear old priest who is a champion of the local pro-life movement and simply overjoyed at the impending arrival of our little guy.  He sent us on our way this morning, laden with graces and prayers and handmade rosaries and lots of extra blessings. 

It's been a beautiful week.

And tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day.

:)

Leaving Good Behind

Yesterday was not what you'd call a stellar day in the Nut House.

By the time dinner was over, I was nursing a Smirnoff and ignoring the chaos surrounding me.  The little girls were fighting, chasing each other all over the downstairs, Sports Fan was moaning in agony, sure that we'd have to amputate his foot because he had stepped on a pencil earlier in the day, and Action Man was punctuating the air with complaints about the state of his uncompleted schoolwork.

Glancing at the clock and noticing the late hour, I rallied the troops.  Little Dear and Little Boo did the dishes, then cleaned up the living areas.  The boys tidied (most of) the homeschool room, and then they were all sent upstairs, leaving a semblance of peace and order.... some good behind.

I continued my pity-fest on the couch with my feet up.  Only one week left to go until Little Dude is born, but I have about a billion things to do.  And the weight of that knowledge plus the burden of other thoughts weighed on me.  Throw in some whacked out hormones, and you've got yourself one outrageously emotional Mama.

When despair starts to creep in, my instincts are to circle the wagons.  I can only deal with a shrunken universe.  My arms clench at my sides, and I bring the little ones in close.  I surround myself with kindness and mercy and venture no farther than what I deem comfortable.  This is not just a physical limitation, but a spiritual and emotional one as well.  Little Love and I read story after story today.  We sat quietly for so long, her head resting on my belly, that she suddenly popped up, looked at me and sighed.. what a loonnnggg snug that was, Mama!  And off she went to play.

Making my way to my doctor's appointment today, my feet dragged, knowing that this would be the last time I see this building before Little Dude was born.  My next appointment would be postpartum, and while I couldn't wait to be holding the little guy, the state of my physical being was not something I was looking forward to.

There are many "lasts" these days... My thoughts always begin with "This time next week..." because, indeed, this time next week, I will be in the hospital, and Little Dude will be born.  He and I will have come through the surgery with flying colors (God-willing) and I will be holding him in my arms. And then the uphill climb of recovery will begin.  And for that, I simply cannot wait.  I am not a patient patient.  But I am eager to begin ~possibly my last~ babymoon. It is always a time of simple joy and peace.  To have baby at home, and to experience the neediness of tending to one so dependent and helpless.  To be fulfilling just the basic needs, and to smile at the smallest of creation.

So, my dear friends, the blog will most likely be very quiet until the big announcement next Thursday.  I need to leave good behind... to prepare our home and lives for this most joyous event.  To ensure.. as best as I can... that those who will be helping out on the home front (thanks, Mom and Dad!) have a smooth transition, and that our veteran members of the Nut House will not be wading in chaos, but can truly enjoy this exciting time.

Please keep us in your prayers.  I know that all will be well.  And I truly cannot wait to introduce the newest Nut House member to all of you!


:)

A Family Christmas Tradition

(aka... Nutmeg hits the "Big Time")

:P

I participated in my very first podcast yesterday morning!  It was a wonderful experience, to talk about a subject that I absolutely love... food, and family tradition.

If you've ever wondered what Christmas Eve is all about in a traditional Polish household, this is a must-hear.  And even if it all seems overwhelming, remember... while I am half Polish, I am taking baby steps and still fully letting my own Mother take the helm when it comes to this meal.

But it is such a fantastic and richly-symbolic celebration of the most joyous of feasts!

You can listen here.

And Michelle has a nice write up (with recipes!) here.

:)

Still In Our Hearts....

We had a lovely visitor the other evening.... can you guess who?

Yes, my favorite blogger from Minnesota!  And her cutie-pie little guy.

We were so very happy to have her... even if just for a few hours on a Saturday evening.

Sigh.  I love the blogging world,where beautiful friendships abound.


:)


You can read all about Margaret's trip here. She covered more ground than a tumbleweed caught in a West-Texas-sized dust storm!

Ordinary Heroes

I am really liking Little Boo's soccer team.  After two full seasons, I am finally getting to know and feel comfortable with the parents and family situations that encompass this team.  As usual, there are lessons learned at every turn, and I regularly walk away with a renewed sense of gratitude and awe at how God provides and how I feel particularly blessed.


I have a good rapport with Little Boo's coach.  You may remember, in the beginning, how we were a bit concerned about his ...  erm, zealous coaching style.  Having gone through two seasons, though, I have now developed a lot of respect for his level of commitment.  He puts a lot of time and energy into coaching the girls, and all he is asking is that we get them to practice and games on time.  Not really that unreasonable.  And since DH has coached quite a few seasons himself, I can appreciate the frustration of trying to coach a team that is consistently late.  Hard to put in a good one hour practice, when half the team shows up 15 min late.


Furthermore, I think he respects a mom who knows and loves the game... and occasionally still plays.  Even though he teases me for being completely unable to keep my mouth shut during the game,  he also is glad to have Little Boo out there.  Little Boo knows it, and plays her heart out for the team.

But this is all just background.  Social butterfly that I am, the chats I had before and during yesterday's game is the reason for this post.

At the end of the spring season, as I was emerging from my first trimester nausea-haze, I found out that Coach Matt was in the process of getting a divorce.  He and his (soon-to-be) ex-wife seemed on friendly enough terms, and so I had had no idea.  In chatting with some of the moms at that tournament, I found out that the fall season had been impossibly tough for everyone.  The team was awful, and Coach was not mentally there.  They stuck with him, though, and were so grateful for the turn-around that the spring season had brought.  I was impressed.

Coach has a sister... 7 years older than him.  She has become the "acting" mom for his children.  She comes to all of the games and watches his younger son and helps out with his son's soccer team... which he also coaches.  She herself has two sons.  And... she is also divorced.  Apparently her husband is what she called a "deadbeat dad".  Her oldest son plays football.  Guess who is the coach?  That's right, their Uncle.  Coach Matt.  As I watched her sons, ages 12 and 10, run around and tease each other while playing with their cousins, I thought how fortunate they were to have this brother and sister combination to keep them grounded.

In chatting with this woman yesterday, she revealed something else to me.  As the older sibling, she said, she was always protective of her little brother.  Especially, she said, after their Dad died.

Coach Matt was 13.

And I was astounded... almost to tears. To think that this Coach had to navigate the rocky waters of life without a Father, and ends up becoming a Dad as well as a surrogate Dad to his own nephews... and then choosing an authority role as coach for 3 different teams... it was amazing.

These people are not what you'd call the religious type.  I think they go to church, but not on a regular basis.  I'm positive they are not Catholic. And I wonder where they draw their strength from.

To be sure, I don't know all the intimate details of their lives.  I have no idea what the states of the souls are.  But I do know and recognize natural virtue when I see it.

And I have been continually impressed with the way Coach Matt has handled Little Boo's team.  Just the right combination of pushing them to do their best, yet joking around with them, and even sternly telling them when they were not performing the way he knew they could.  My own Dad and DH have been the only other coaches I've ever admired.  So this guy had a lot to live up to.

I came away from the game yesterday with a renewed sense of gratefulness.  God works wonders in people's lives, whether they fully recognize it or not.  He has blessed me with an overabundance of grace and happiness.  Much much more than I deserve.  I look at my family, at my husband who shares this life with me, and I am so very grateful.  At the same time, I do not ever think that I am better than those He chooses to place in my path.  I am continually humbled by the lessons I am learning, because I know that it is most definitely not I that deserves the credit for this blessed life I lead.

In fact, the knowledge of my own sinfulness only makes me cling all the more closer to Him and my Faith in awe and thanksgiving.

Humor Me...

.. and tell me I'm not as irrational as I think.
(didja catch that oxymoron?  IR-rational as I THINK?  heh heh I kill me)


Last night, Lil Sis and I went out to dinner to have our annual* sissy date. And we had a great time, of course.


Right before we left, the manager-lady came over and asked if everything was satisfactory.  Fair enough, right?

THEN!  She goes in for the "Belly touch"!!!

"OOOH!" she coos.... "HOW'S THE BABY?!?"  as she REACHES OVER TO PAT MY STOMACH!!!!

But then she stops.

Lil Sis swears I was not giving her the look of death.  I cannot confirm that, since I was not looking in a mirror, but rather in horror at her approaching hand.

"Oh... Oh.  Are you the kind that thinks it's weird to have strangers touching your belly?"

Um, Why yes, ma'am.  And you are not?  May I touch your belly?

"Well... I just wanted to touch the baby..." and she wanders away.


Hmmmm.
In order for her to touch the baby that is STILL IN MY WOMB she'd have to do some pretty amazing things.  Don't-ya think?

(sigh) 

Maybe I am irrational.  Am I the only person who feels violated when strangers want to touch your pregnant belly??

Oooookay.

Back to my regularly scheduled hormonal breakdowns.  Stay tuned.  It's going to be a wild ride.

We've got three more weeks of this to go.


:P


*yes, ANUUAL. :( Not often enough, and about to get rarer...

Fatherly Advice: Good Sportsmanship Edition

Sports Fan plays goalie for his 12 and under soccer team.  Since he just turned 11, he's not exactly the largest kid on the team.  Yet, he shows a spunkiness in goal that can only be admired....


(during a break in quarters)  
DH(dear husband): Sports Fan, remember that goal you saved?  The one where the kid slide-tackled you just as you got the ball?

SF: Yeah!  That was cool, huh?

DH:  Definitely!  But that was kind of a dirty play on his part.

SF: Oh.... (eyes lighting up) So, should I have punched him or something?

DH: No!  No, no.  But.... if when you're getting up with the ball... and your elbow happens to dig into his ribs there? ....  I'm pretty sure that would be an accident.



:P

Daybook: Fall Arrives

This morning dawned cool and crisp.... lows in the 50's.  We've had the windows open every night, and the cool breezes are so welcomed by this body who has it's own internal heating element.  Poor DH!  Canadian though he is, I've been insisting on fans blowing and no covers.. all night long.  I haven't slept this well in months.


Outside My Window...

Cobalt blue skies and sun, and a brisk wind.  Now, brisk for us is 70 degrees.... so take it with a grain of salt, y'all.  I'm just thrilled to be able to watch my kids play soccer without melting!!

I Am Listening To...

Silence.  And the occasional door slam.   The little girls have a friend over, and my boys are oscillating between the basketball hoop, the hockey net and airsoft target practice.  It's as if they don't know what to do first!  Fall means outdoor play here, and the bikes and scooters and balls are in constant motion after 5 months of lying dormant.

I Am Wearing...

Maternity jean shorts and a white maternity tank top, silver hoop earrings, hair in a pony tail.  It's almost time to take Sports Fan to practice, and it will be warm sitting in the sun chatting with the other moms. Earlier today, I had on flared pants and a long-sleeved gray gap shirt. (maternity as well)  We have two wardrobes going these days.  But I don't mind a bit.


I Am So Grateful For...

Dear friends who celebrate this new birth with so much enthusiasm... as evidenced by the wondrous spread they put on for my baby shower yesterday.  It was exquisite.  And re-connecting with some of my local friends that I don't get to see very often (you know how busy we moms can get) warmed my heart. I am very blessed.

I Am Pondering...

Mostly school stuff.  I know, boring.  :P  But since I teach American History for our co-op, I am constantly searching through resources to come up with ways to bring history to life.  The kids are delightful and eager to learn and participate.  I am exhausted, but in a good way.


I Am Reading...

In Conversation With God.  I really want to participate in my bookclub this month, so I need to find Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day.  And I am always reading this.


I Am Thinking...

About this blog, this space.  I am out of practice in writing out these days.  My words tumble all mish-mash and nothing flows.  I've been distracted for far too long.  Can I find my way back?  Can I reclaim my voice?  How will it be... once Little Dude is on the scene?  I am hopeful that I will find the time and the words again.  This may be my last chance to capture these baby years...

I Am Creating.....

Order. And lists.  3 weeks and a bit until my world turns upside down and inside out.  I wish I could just focus on this new life that is coming, but practicality has to kick in here.  There are 5 other children to think of, my classes to cover and plan for the substitute, a meal and weekly plan for my parents to navigate, and many other considerations since I will be unavailable for quite some time.  C-sections are not my preferred modus operandi. Yet, much as I hate them, I need to face it and make accommodations.

On my iPod....

Lots of old western radio shows.  Which is why I don't seem to have an iPod anymore.... maybe I should say "On Action Man's iPod"...  ;P


Towards a Real Education...

Our homeschool co-op is AWESOME.  Coupled with our cd-rom based Math, we are cruising.  My kids love seeing their good friends, and I love that they have to answer to someone! else!  But, I still get to have them home all week.  And! I'm teaching again!  It's so fun.  I didn't realize how much I missed formal classroom teaching.  And being with these students is a real joy.

Towards Rhythm and Beauty...

We are in preparation mode.  I am slowly assimilating the kids into their new roles, as the need for me to step back and step down increases.  Laundry, dishes, vacuuming, cooking... all of these chores are doable by my older children, and I need to let go and let them help.  So far, they are responding... usually without too much complaining. I know it's good for them.  They need to understand and appreciate the hard work that is family life.  And hopefully, see the joy in it all as well.
:)

To Live the Liturgy...

Religion classes have spawned many interesting dinner discussions, and with All Saints Day around the corner, I expect we will delve even deeper into the mysteries of the faith.  It's wonderful to see even Little Love sharing her new-found knowledge with the family.

I Am Hoping and Praying...

For this Little One.  For the upcoming surgery.  Less understanding forums call it "birth by scalpel"... and while I cannot argue with the accuracy of the statement, I cry out against the implications.  That somehow I have chosen the easy, less natural way, and that I, and my baby, are lesser people for it.  If they only knew how much I abhor this surgery, how much I wish things could happen differently, and how I have been dreading it since that day when two pink lines announced the reality of this newest soul.  It's the bitter pill I must swallow, the dark cloud that has surrounded my thoughts constantly... the mountain of pain and fear and worry I must climb in order to see and hold my bundle of joy. Yes, I need lots of prayers... thank you!
:)

In The Garden....

I am sorry to say that our landscaping neighbors have moved, and I, and my black thumb, are completely on our own.  I do have an e-mail address, and a basic understanding of which flowers should be planted when.  I have been told to stay away from the big box stores, and, armed with this scant knowledge, I will be attempting to keep our front bed looking spiffy.  Right now, the stuff* out there looks great, and I hope it will last through the birth and recovery of Little Dude. (*yeah... don't even ask... have no clue what I planted)

From the Kitchen...

Not much.  Dinner, most nights.  I have a ton of carrots and the makings for carrot cake... we'll see if it gets accomplished.  My plans are for quick, easy meals, and lots of water and diluted juice for me.  I'm combating the last weeks of soreness and swollen ankles.  It's a race to the finish, and I feel like the tortoise in that famous fable.  But I know I will get there.  And that's a huge consolation!

One of my Favorite Things...

The lake in the fall.  I had planned to go last week.  We got everything and everyone loaded into the car, I turned the key, and... nothing.  Now that we have a new battery for the van and the promise of continued gorgeous weather, we will hopefully go this week.  A little respite is needed before this baby comes to rock our world.

A Few Plans for the Rest of the Week...

This week will be fairly quiet. A hair appointment for me (aka... operation hide-the-grays)  soccer practices, and an orthodontist appointment for Action Man.  Next week is the doozy with my parents coming for a full-blown fun soccer weekend, dry runs with our crazy schedule, and dentist and doctor visits for me.  I have a feeling the next 3 weeks are going to fly.

A Picture Thought....

I and my beautiful, thoughtful friends who worked together to put on an amazing baby shower for me Sunday afternoon.
(p.s.  I'm the one with the belly....)

:P

With Great Honor....

... comes great responsibility.

(Or something like that)

Little Boo (after soccer practice last night):  Coach said I am the captain of the team!

Me:  Really?  All-time captain?

Little Boo: Yup!

(recalling Little Boo's tendencies to be a bit...erm... vocal to her teammates on the field) 
Sports Fan:  Yeah, but it doesn't mean you can boss people around!

Little Boo:  I won't.  I'll just tell them what to do.


Lovely.

Dictatorship at the hands of an 8 year old.  Should be an interesting season...

:P

Sixty Minutes

We are a homeschooling family. That means that I have the privilege of being constantly surrounded by my children 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. (yes, I do mean 24 hours... you should see the nightly bed rotations)

For most of my waking hours (well over 12) I am perpetually engaged. Little Love is being formally homeschooled now. And she takes up the majority of my time during the day. She is a delightful learner, and very diligent. But it is a lesson in heroic patience to calmly spell out every single word she needs to write for her Spelling sentences, to listen as she sounds out the words in her reader, to point out again where Greenland is and that she needs to place the label "just there."

Couple that with Little Boo's exasperation over a History timeline that won't line up, Religion reading that is just above her level, and the never-ending battle of taming her pencil.... along with the challenges of the older three and their ability to either disappear or annoy the hell out of each other on a minute-by-minute basis... and I'm pretty much worn out by 11am.

Enter my brilliant husband.

On the first day of homeschooling, DH was standing in the kitchen at lunch time, listening as I spelled out a word for Little Love, told Sports Fan where the Bible was, and yelled up the stairs at Action Man... all while my shaking hands attempted to make a sandwich to appease my own low-blood sugar level. He commented that he thought I needed a break.

I almost hit him with a knife full of mayo.Me? A veteran homeschool mom needing a break on the very first day??? What am I? A wimp?

But then he explained.... I need a one hour break, every day. Where I am not to be disturbed. So that I can eat lunch, sit down, have a huge glass of water... and just be. With no schoolwork to help with, and most definitely nothing to engage in. In fact, he said, everyone needs that break. No matter where they are at on their schedule, no matter how much they have gotten accomplished... from 11:30 - 12:30 the kids are to get their lunch, eat, and then play. And not bother Mom. Period.

I admit, I was skeptical. But I also saw the need. I am the type of mom (and aren't we all?) who will get everyone's lunch, wipe down the kitchen and do the dishes before I'll sit down myself and eat. I will teach Math in between bites of pb&j, while gulping down leftover cold coffee. In short, I will not take the time to care for myself and I'll end up grumpy and undernourished by the end of the afternoon. Nobody wins.

So, now we get the gift of a break. We all do. The kids make their own lunches (I'll help the younger girls) and then eat and read quietly. I make my own lunch and either eat outside by myself, or with my prayer book. Then, I'll check e-mail or maybe make some phone calls or just sit quietly outside and breathe.

I am at a certain season in my life. Our family is in this season together. The children are close in age, and all self-sufficient. They can all play together.. and often do. There are no toddlers or newborns (yet... very soon, though!) and we (I) have the luxury of an hour of (relative) peace. (no method is perfect of course... we have had some unrest and bickering during our "breaks"... ) And I understand that for many homeschooling moms, this hour of solace in the middle of the day is an unrealistic expectation. But I would encourage those who can... make use of naptimes to enforce a quiet time for your non-nappers. Put out books and puzzles or even put on a little show..... just to be able to disengage... to breathe and clear your mind. To give the schooling ones a chance to recuperate from a morning of intense learning. (It's amazing how a stubborn math problem unravels like magic after an hour of outdoor play.)

You yourself will be a more cheerful, patient mom. And that is a gift every child needs.

:)

Welcome Fall!!

Tomorrow

 

Forecast:

 

 

Sunny 

 

Temperature:  76°

Chance of Precip:  0%

 

Wind: N at 9 mph

:)

Lights, Camera.... *fizzle*

When I was in High School, I was in an acting troupe.  Our "Youth Group" would travel around upstate NY and put on plays for other youth groups.  My first play was a bit of a disaster.... there were no tryouts, and I was cast in some measly role that just did NOT display my awesome talent. Or, so I thought at the oh-so-experienced age of 13.

;P

At my high school, I acted in the musicals, and my junior year was given one of the lead! roles!  So very exciting.  I was the Queen in Roger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella.  

My time in the limelight was short-lived, however, as I attended a college that did not, as yet, have an acting troupe.  (They do now, of course...)

Enter life-after college.  After exhausting all of my resources trying to look for a job in Canada... yeah, they didn't take too kindly to the illegal-immigrant status I was sporting.... I signed up with a talent agency and did one. little. nothing. photo shoot for a bank.  Yay.  I spent the next year tutoring ESL and making good money.  So much for life in the fast lane.

And then.  When Little Love turned 5 last year, I realized that, perhaps, I could try it once more.  Figuring that I had learned a few things about the lingo of the business, I responded to a few innocuous craigslist ads, and found myself with a couple of appointments.  After chatting on the phone and threatening to walk out of the shoot if it was anything other than what I was hearing... (I am so compliant that way) I showed up to the first studio with Lil Sis in tow. (She's an awesome bodyguard)  I met the director, did some yoga poses, got paid, and left.  Easy Peasy.

Since that first foray, I've done a hair spot and an evening of "extra" work on the new cable show "The Good Guys" starring Colin Hanks.  (Yes, I saw him... no, I didn't talk to him... although it was totally cool to watch a take of a shooting car chase being filmed in downtown Dallas!)  My part?  I walked past a store.  Tons of talent needed there, let me tell you.

:P

And then.  I found out I was pregnant.  Nausea and fatigue are simply not conducive to happy-smiley camera work.  Lol.  And so, my amazing career as a part-time "extra" for commercials or print or any acting whatsoever is on hold. Indefinitely. 

Here's how it ended:

(phone ringing) The Call: Meegan? (yes, that's how they pronounced my name) This is Louie. (I kid you not!  Isn't that hilarious???) How are you looking for a commercial audition this weekend?

Me: (thoroughly snickering) Well, I'm looking about 6 months pregnant.

*crickets*

Me: Yeah.  Maybe get back to me in about a year.

Louie:  Oh, right!  Hey, congratulations!


I can hear the delete button being pushed on my profile....

And you know what?  I am totally ok with that.  Totally.

:)

More Of Me To Love

So, the countdown is on.  6 weeks to go, and then Little Dude will come screaming into our lives.  I know he will be screaming, because:
(a) Every. SINGLE. one of my children have been colicky... I don't even hold out hope anymore for that elusive "easy" baby, and...
(b) This kid has not stopped kicking me since I hit the 4 month mark.

I am worn and battered, y'all.

I've suffered (?) the usual pregnancy woes... insomnia, vein troubles, stomach growth (ha!), and my newest friend... heartburn.

LOVIN' the heartburn.  No, really.  For once I'm half serious. 

You see, for each of my previous pregnancies, I gained about 60 lbs. And this time around, I was sure that my legs and back would not be able to handle that kind of baggage.  My doctor had been urging me to stick to the recommended 25-30 lb. range. 
*Excuse me while I laugh uproariously* 
You see, once I hit the non-nausea stage, I'm all over food.  Literally.
:P

Except.  Now I've got heartburn.  As in, I simply cannot eat a thing after 9pm.  Especially ice cream, cake, cookies... you name it.  If I want to indulge, it has to be early in the day, with the kids bugging me as to why I get ice cream at 3pm and they don't, and don't I feel like a mean Mama for dishing myself a bowl when they're having peanut butter on bread and...

Yeah.  Forget it.

So, I go to bed dutifully with my glass of ice water, munching away on the melting ice cubes, thus granting myself a night free from the burning in my throat and chest. 

And the payoff?

A pound a week.
Mission accomplished.
:D

Oh, except for the swelling in my ankles...

Now there's a worthy topic.

;P

Why I Love Our Homeschool Co-op

I get to house mighty little vikings like this one... and listen as she regales me with tales about her conquests in the new world! 

And truly, there is nothing like hearing about Galileo and his theories in the lispy-speak of  an excited 5 year old.

Love. It.

:)

Exchange

As Little Boo and Little Dear were vociferously getting ready for our garage sale next week....


Little Boo (indignantly plunking down three pairs of shoes):  We're selling these, these, these...  and Little Dear!



:P

Never Forget

{this moment}

{this moment}- a single photo, no words, capturing a moment from this week.

This one taken from our trip to Colorado two weeks ago, celebrating my mom's birthday.

:)

Because We Were Separated at Birth....

... and because my brain can barely string two sentences together...

I present to you my "twin" Danielle, who has perfectly captured every aspect of my thoughts on homeschooling.


My Annual Homeschool Freak Out



Yes, we started yesterday. Yes, it's overwhelming. No, I wouldn't change it for a thing.

And here we go again today.

:)

Seven Quick Takes... Vol I

No, I've never ever in my blogging years have done this quick takes thingy before.  But my brain is fried and my house is a mess and we are all still wishing we were in Colorado at my parents house sipping hot tea in the freezing cold mornings and watching the deer nibble on the grass outside.

~1~

Yes, we took one last summer trip to the Rocky Mountains to terrorize see my parents last week.   13 hours there, 12 hours back.  And 8 glorious days in humane temperatures.  We warned the kids that there would be no. special. trips. once we got there.  Only unlimited outdoor playtime.  The first day was a bit rough, with sleep deprivation and the whole not-used-to-playing-outside thing... but after that, they made full use of the woods, tree house, and hot tub... along with movies and board games and coloring and playing with Grandma's stash of kid toys. I got a lot of school planning done, and it was just simply heavenly all around.

~2~

Oh! But we did take them places... never fear.  My mom and I drove 2 hours with the kids to the Hot Springs to spend the day in the spring-fed river, pools, and water slide.  It was awesome.  The kids had a blast, and I loved the unlimited water/sun-minus-humidity combo. A stop at the ice cream store on the way home was the cherry on top. The next day, my folks took all the kids out so DH and I could go get lunch by ourselves.  That, too, was amazing.  And much-needed.
:)

~3~

As much fun as it was, we may never go away again.  :P  Upon arriving home, we noticed that our cat was covered in "dirt"... which was quickly ascertained to be dried blood... which was quickly traced to his tongue... which had been cut on his cat food can... which we had told the neighbor to just open for him every day.  Well, apparently by the end of the week, he had somehow attacked the can with a vengeance and split his tongue.  Off to the vet DH went (after driving 12 hours that day) to shell out a small fortune to have the cat put under general anesthesia so his tongue could be stitched up.  Antibiotics and 2 days later, he re-opened the wound and we'll just have to leave it.  Totally worth the original $500 we plunked down, dontcha think?  Ugh.

~4~

The second day we were home, the upstairs bathroom had a bit of an overflow problem.  I got the phone call from an oh-so-calm Sports Fan as I ran errands around town.  The first words out of his mouth when I answered my cell phone were:

OHMYGOSH MOMCOMEHOMEQUICKTHE  (mumble mumble)WATERPOURING (mumble)CEILING(mumble) HOMESCHOOLROOM(mumble)FLOODING!!!!!

Yes.

That was just what I wanted to hear.

~5~

DH's initial reaction to this incident is not blog-approved.  However, by the time he came home from work, he actually hugged the offending party and assured the person that it was fixable, not to worry.  Then he stood there with his hands on his head staring up at the ceiling for a long time.  Which made Little Boo pronounce him to be in a "bad mood" so no one should talk to him.
:P

~6~

Soccer season is upon us!  Little Boo had her first practice yesterday, after watching Lil Sis' first game.  Sports Fan is also playing this year (different team, different field, different organization altogether... sigh) But the two of them have been practicing together non-stop.  I am constantly yelling at them to pick up their cleats and shin guards and will they please put their socks in the wash?  But I do love this time of year... it means Fall is on the way!  And who doesn't love Fall?

~7~

Which leads me to my final "take."  Little Dude is set to make his appearance (via c-section) Oct 29th. He's growing well (and so am I, thankyouverymuch).  There are still times I look down at my stomach and can't believe I'm pregnant. (I know, my grasp on reality is stellar) But it's more of a joyous disbelief.  I still worry, believe it or not... and I know I will, until we both come out of surgery with clean bills of health.  If you think of it, between now and then, would you mind offering a prayer up for us?  I really really hate this surgery... and this will be my fourth time going through it.  I need peace.. in my heart and mind... that all will be well.
Thank you, friends!


Go visit Jen at Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes.

:)

LOVE This Guy...

He just totally makes me laugh.





:P

Slowing Down

I climb the stairs and take a deep breath.  I can't seem to catch it. When did we add in all those extra steps, anyway? 
;P
Suddenly I am assaulted from within.  The Little Dude is making himself known, berating me in his own way for pushing myself again. Seems like every time I try to get something accomplished and then sit down, the WWE takes up residency in my womb.

It's a good sign, I know. But it certainly is wearing me down.

With all of my other pregnancies, I was able to *ignore* my expanding belly and proceed with life as usual.  Sure, my clothes were snug and I eventually had to switch into maternity wear, but I never skipped a beat in my daily routine.

This time?  I feel like my house is on a slant, and that every step I take is uphill.  I persevere with my back, leg and arm exercises.  I try to dress is a way that is comfortable and conducive to exercise.  I am attempting to trick myself into thinking that I am still 28 and can do all I did when pregnant with Little Dear.... while keeping in mind that I'm no spring chicken and I need to be more aware of my ever expanding mid-section.

It ain't working.
:P

And so... I am forced to slow down.  To sit and relax while DH cooks dinner on the weekends.  He has had to physically push me (gently, of course) to the couch and force me to stay there while he cleans.  He pulls me up the stairs and propels me to the tub.  He tries to imagine what it must be like to carry this extra 20 lbs (yes... already!) throughout the day... and groans in sympathy.  My kids, too, see the strain and pat me on the back as they dart up the stairs ahead of me, leaving me in the dust.  They check on me often (a little too often) when I'm resting in bed or on the couch.  They'll even step in to lift or carry something for me... esp if I ask with a pitiful look in my eyes.....

:)

I wanted this, still want this, I remind myself.  It's what I've longed for, dreamed of... just one more chance to inhale that sweet newborn smell. To be the Mama... the one the cries are for... the only one who can appease.  It's a steep price, at least for my weak will and shaky legs... one that I had blissfully forgotten.  And with a much-dreaded c-section on the horizon, there are bigger hurdles in sight.

For now, though, I will take each day as it comes. 

Bask in my bigness...
Cherish the kicks...
Imagine the sweet sleeps...
And pray for the grace to meet the next month, week, day... task...
with love and patience.

:)