Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Horror upon horror upon horror
Remember when a certain member of this family did this awful thing? And then remember when she did this other awful thing? Remember, too, this weird episode?
Why is Lucy so feral? We ask ourselves this all the time. I don't know the answer.
Things have been on the upswing since she was potty-trained a year ago, and although I still haven't replaced the hall bathroom rug (she sometimes over-shoots her mark if you get my drift, something I was not formerly aware was even possible with girls) I was starting to think that it might soon be safe. However...
Actually, let me back up.
I sometimes buy Nutella for the girls to have with their morning toast or bagels. They love it, but it can get messy. I can only take cleaning up so many chocolaty messes, so it isn't a regular pantry item. When we do have it, though, I can count on finding chocolate handprints on the doors, streaks around the bathroom sink (where they go to wash their hands after breakfast), all over the counters, the table, the chairs....You name it.
Okay, so back to Miss Lucy. Can you see where this is headed?
I noticed brown marks all over the shower curtain one morning, and since it was a Nutella day I made the obvious assumption. I took the curtain down and washed it, and for a few weeks all was well. Then more marks appeared. It was another Nutella day, so this time I was lazier (knowing that we had a good three days left until the Nutella jar ran out) and didn't bother taking it down for a while.
Then it happened again. Only this time, there was no Nutella in the house. I had a moment of doubt, but then I told myself - the girls had chocolate muffins today, surely it was just melted chocolate chips! It was a busy day so I didn't take the curtain down until the next morning.
That very morning, with the still-damp shower curtain hanging, it happened again. This time, though, the door was not closed and I was within viewing range.
I am sure you can guess what I witnessed. I would really rather not spell out what I saw, if that's alright. I am surprised that my eyes weren't actually seared blind by the sight. Let's just put it this way, for those who don't have kids, or for those who have managed to raise their kids with civility: the shower curtain is right beside the toilet. Directly opposite the toilet paper roll, easily accessed by anyone sitting on the throne looking for alternatives.
I have heard of this thing happening before, but before it was always somebody else's kid. I cannot believe that I made it through four girls only to get hammered like this with the fifth. And I cannot believe that I ever thought a white shower curtain was a good idea. Although, it does bleach well. That's actually a pretty major plus, all things considered.
It all comes down to this: this thought that I have so often, mostly in a joyful way, but sometimes...not so much: I cannot believe that this is my life.
Seriously. I cannot believe it.
Why is Lucy so feral? We ask ourselves this all the time. I don't know the answer.
Things have been on the upswing since she was potty-trained a year ago, and although I still haven't replaced the hall bathroom rug (she sometimes over-shoots her mark if you get my drift, something I was not formerly aware was even possible with girls) I was starting to think that it might soon be safe. However...
Actually, let me back up.
I sometimes buy Nutella for the girls to have with their morning toast or bagels. They love it, but it can get messy. I can only take cleaning up so many chocolaty messes, so it isn't a regular pantry item. When we do have it, though, I can count on finding chocolate handprints on the doors, streaks around the bathroom sink (where they go to wash their hands after breakfast), all over the counters, the table, the chairs....You name it.
Okay, so back to Miss Lucy. Can you see where this is headed?
I noticed brown marks all over the shower curtain one morning, and since it was a Nutella day I made the obvious assumption. I took the curtain down and washed it, and for a few weeks all was well. Then more marks appeared. It was another Nutella day, so this time I was lazier (knowing that we had a good three days left until the Nutella jar ran out) and didn't bother taking it down for a while.
Then it happened again. Only this time, there was no Nutella in the house. I had a moment of doubt, but then I told myself - the girls had chocolate muffins today, surely it was just melted chocolate chips! It was a busy day so I didn't take the curtain down until the next morning.
That very morning, with the still-damp shower curtain hanging, it happened again. This time, though, the door was not closed and I was within viewing range.
I am sure you can guess what I witnessed. I would really rather not spell out what I saw, if that's alright. I am surprised that my eyes weren't actually seared blind by the sight. Let's just put it this way, for those who don't have kids, or for those who have managed to raise their kids with civility: the shower curtain is right beside the toilet. Directly opposite the toilet paper roll, easily accessed by anyone sitting on the throne looking for alternatives.
I have heard of this thing happening before, but before it was always somebody else's kid. I cannot believe that I made it through four girls only to get hammered like this with the fifth. And I cannot believe that I ever thought a white shower curtain was a good idea. Although, it does bleach well. That's actually a pretty major plus, all things considered.
It all comes down to this: this thought that I have so often, mostly in a joyful way, but sometimes...not so much: I cannot believe that this is my life.
Seriously. I cannot believe it.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Ruth, Our Little Turtle (a post by Katie)
One day Ruth was just a helpless little baby rolling around the floor and the next she was "flopping" everywhere.We have to watch her very carefully now, because she can get anywhere now. I happened to have my ipod handy when Ruth sat up and, so very proudly, started clapping for herself. I didn't get her doing this in time, but I do have her crawling to me (also known as flopping to me, only to try and flop on me) and a snippet of her typical adventures on the floor. Here is our little turtle:
Saturday, June 11, 2011
First things first: In which the recipe for a fulfilling life should include a steady diet of Mumford and Sons
We took Katie to her first concert this past Thursday, and it was memorable for a variety of reasons.
My in-laws very kindly (and bravely!) took on the task of watching all of their grandchildren (minus Katie, of course) at once so that we, Becky and Dante, and Andy could all make our pilgrimage together to see Mumford and Sons live.
Despite our best efforts, we barely managed to get even lawn seats for the show. We showed up early in the hopes of snagging good spots in front, but suffice it to say that the only thing our earliness gained us was over an hour sitting in the back of the lawn in the sweltering heat. It was the sort of heat that has rivers of sweat pouring down your back instantly. In the ladies' restroom a toilet had broken and was gushing water all over the floor, and it was so hot that for a moment the thought of splashing in that water was actually appealing.
It all seemed worth it, though, when Matthew and the Atlas, the also-obsession-worthy opening band, walked on to the stage. Almost immediately, though, a sudden rainstorm rose up and literally drowned them out. It went from intense heat to pouring rain within minutes. We wrapped Katie in the blankets we had brought to sit on, but even she was soaked to the bone. Lightening was literally striking over our heads, hail was bouncing off our arms, and it was pure pandemonium in the crowd.
Some people were dancing in the rain, some were packing up their things and fleeing, some were rushing to huddle under the overhang of the concession stands. We stood our ground until the lightening became a little too frightening, but once it became clear that there was no better option than standing in the open field, we returned to our place. Once the second opening act (whose name I can't remember) came onstage, the rain had more or less petered out, but everyone on the lawn continued to be drenched the rest of the evening.
This is the only video I could find of the rain, and it doesn't really do it justice. I didn't bring my camera or the Flip, which most likely saved me from breaking both. As it was, Chris' wallet was so wet that it literally disintegrated in his pocket.
The grueling heat and the pounding rain were all worth it, though, when Mumford and Sons took the stage. I was so glad for Katie, that her first concert was such a good one!
Mumford and Sons seems to be gaining in popularity with staggering speed, and I'm usually too much of a fan-boy at heart to be glad whenever something I like goes mainstream. I'll tell you what, though, this band is so good that it strikes me as a positive sign about our culture in general that something like this (with lyrics that are so profound and so honestly yearning for truth that anyone who calls themselves a "Christian Artist" should hang their heads in shame) is appealing to people on a wide scale. It bolsters my faith in humanity. I'm not just saying that for effect, this band literally bolsters my faith in humanity.
I've had an app on my sidebar with some of their songs for over a year now, so if you haven't had a listen yet......well, what are you waiting for? Also, here's a video of their closing song. You're welcome.
My in-laws very kindly (and bravely!) took on the task of watching all of their grandchildren (minus Katie, of course) at once so that we, Becky and Dante, and Andy could all make our pilgrimage together to see Mumford and Sons live.
Despite our best efforts, we barely managed to get even lawn seats for the show. We showed up early in the hopes of snagging good spots in front, but suffice it to say that the only thing our earliness gained us was over an hour sitting in the back of the lawn in the sweltering heat. It was the sort of heat that has rivers of sweat pouring down your back instantly. In the ladies' restroom a toilet had broken and was gushing water all over the floor, and it was so hot that for a moment the thought of splashing in that water was actually appealing.
It all seemed worth it, though, when Matthew and the Atlas, the also-obsession-worthy opening band, walked on to the stage. Almost immediately, though, a sudden rainstorm rose up and literally drowned them out. It went from intense heat to pouring rain within minutes. We wrapped Katie in the blankets we had brought to sit on, but even she was soaked to the bone. Lightening was literally striking over our heads, hail was bouncing off our arms, and it was pure pandemonium in the crowd.
Some people were dancing in the rain, some were packing up their things and fleeing, some were rushing to huddle under the overhang of the concession stands. We stood our ground until the lightening became a little too frightening, but once it became clear that there was no better option than standing in the open field, we returned to our place. Once the second opening act (whose name I can't remember) came onstage, the rain had more or less petered out, but everyone on the lawn continued to be drenched the rest of the evening.
This is the only video I could find of the rain, and it doesn't really do it justice. I didn't bring my camera or the Flip, which most likely saved me from breaking both. As it was, Chris' wallet was so wet that it literally disintegrated in his pocket.
The grueling heat and the pounding rain were all worth it, though, when Mumford and Sons took the stage. I was so glad for Katie, that her first concert was such a good one!
Mumford and Sons seems to be gaining in popularity with staggering speed, and I'm usually too much of a fan-boy at heart to be glad whenever something I like goes mainstream. I'll tell you what, though, this band is so good that it strikes me as a positive sign about our culture in general that something like this (with lyrics that are so profound and so honestly yearning for truth that anyone who calls themselves a "Christian Artist" should hang their heads in shame) is appealing to people on a wide scale. It bolsters my faith in humanity. I'm not just saying that for effect, this band literally bolsters my faith in humanity.
I've had an app on my sidebar with some of their songs for over a year now, so if you haven't had a listen yet......well, what are you waiting for? Also, here's a video of their closing song. You're welcome.
Friday, June 10, 2011
I guess this was bound to happen one of these days...
I have tons of stuff to update everyone on:
*how Chris' car died a sudden and violent death, de-railing our plans to buy a mega van
*how Lucy gave herself a very unique haircut
*how I met up with my cousin and her husband and unthinkingly had them meet me at a place that was...ah, maybe a little too Baltimore
*how our riding mower burst into flames (and how we met our local firefighters)
*the five million field trips, parties and concerts the girls have graced us with
*how we ran away from our troubles for one glorious week of relaxing and kayaking on the Outer Banks
*the end of my 18 year love affair with a pair of Birkenstocks, when they finally surrendered the ghost on the way to a Mumford and Sons concert.
Lots of stuff to talk about, and lots of videos and pictures to share (once I upload them.) Right now, though, this is the story I am going to tell:
Today, Lucy stuck a cherry pit up her nose.
There was a moment when it was looking very, very bad. Ruth had just woken up from a little nap on our blanket, the final tug-of-war between the school teams had just begun, and Lucy was crying frantically, frantically while the side of her nose bulged with a cherry pit that I could not see and was afraid to even try to extract.
It had taken a few minutes to even figure out what was going on; peace and happiness were reigning one moment, and the next was chaos and Lucy began to scream that "this hurts! This hurts!" At first I thought she had been stung by a bee, but as I tried to calm her enough to ascertain the damage, it became clear that someone was really wrong - something unusual. Finally, through heaving sobs, Lucy told me that there was a "cherry seed" in her nose. And then I saw it - the bulge at the very top of her nasal passage, right by her eye. I lifted her head back to see if I could see it in her nostril - no. I gave a thought to my childhood friend Shannon, and tried to remember if it took actual surgery to remove carpet from her nose, or just a doctor's visit....A friend helpfully rushed to my aid and took charge of Ruth so that I could grab Lucy and run for the school nurse.
As we were nearing the door thankfully, miraculously, Lucy breathed down through her nose in such a way that the pit simply dropped right out and onto her hand. She was still shaken, and for some reason began to cry again when I threw the #$*@ thing away, but I could handle that. We made our way back to our blanket, and poor dazed Ruth, and spent what remained of the afternoon in a relief that was so palpable we no longer felt the heat.
She is doing just fine now, and even ate more cherries. We've discussed heavily the need to keep the pits away from our noses and although the topic of cherries and nurses is likely to turn Lucy surly, I think we're all none the worse for wear. What I find funny, after all that, is the fact that I did not see it coming. I mean, who am I to think that I can breeze through six kids without a something-up-the-nose incident? I do, at least, have enough sense to be grateful that it wasn't a worst-case-scenario-up-the-nose-incident. Now that it is over, too, I can look forward to having one more bullet in the arsenal for when Lucy starts bringing boys around. The boys you want sticking around are the ones who can stomach the thought of their beloved with a cherry pit stuck up her nose.
*how Chris' car died a sudden and violent death, de-railing our plans to buy a mega van
*how Lucy gave herself a very unique haircut
*how I met up with my cousin and her husband and unthinkingly had them meet me at a place that was...ah, maybe a little too Baltimore
*how our riding mower burst into flames (and how we met our local firefighters)
*the five million field trips, parties and concerts the girls have graced us with
*how we ran away from our troubles for one glorious week of relaxing and kayaking on the Outer Banks
*the end of my 18 year love affair with a pair of Birkenstocks, when they finally surrendered the ghost on the way to a Mumford and Sons concert.
Lots of stuff to talk about, and lots of videos and pictures to share (once I upload them.) Right now, though, this is the story I am going to tell:
Today, Lucy stuck a cherry pit up her nose.
There was a moment when it was looking very, very bad. Ruth had just woken up from a little nap on our blanket, the final tug-of-war between the school teams had just begun, and Lucy was crying frantically, frantically while the side of her nose bulged with a cherry pit that I could not see and was afraid to even try to extract.
It had taken a few minutes to even figure out what was going on; peace and happiness were reigning one moment, and the next was chaos and Lucy began to scream that "this hurts! This hurts!" At first I thought she had been stung by a bee, but as I tried to calm her enough to ascertain the damage, it became clear that someone was really wrong - something unusual. Finally, through heaving sobs, Lucy told me that there was a "cherry seed" in her nose. And then I saw it - the bulge at the very top of her nasal passage, right by her eye. I lifted her head back to see if I could see it in her nostril - no. I gave a thought to my childhood friend Shannon, and tried to remember if it took actual surgery to remove carpet from her nose, or just a doctor's visit....A friend helpfully rushed to my aid and took charge of Ruth so that I could grab Lucy and run for the school nurse.
As we were nearing the door thankfully, miraculously, Lucy breathed down through her nose in such a way that the pit simply dropped right out and onto her hand. She was still shaken, and for some reason began to cry again when I threw the #$*@ thing away, but I could handle that. We made our way back to our blanket, and poor dazed Ruth, and spent what remained of the afternoon in a relief that was so palpable we no longer felt the heat.
She is doing just fine now, and even ate more cherries. We've discussed heavily the need to keep the pits away from our noses and although the topic of cherries and nurses is likely to turn Lucy surly, I think we're all none the worse for wear. What I find funny, after all that, is the fact that I did not see it coming. I mean, who am I to think that I can breeze through six kids without a something-up-the-nose incident? I do, at least, have enough sense to be grateful that it wasn't a worst-case-scenario-up-the-nose-incident. Now that it is over, too, I can look forward to having one more bullet in the arsenal for when Lucy starts bringing boys around. The boys you want sticking around are the ones who can stomach the thought of their beloved with a cherry pit stuck up her nose.
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