Too much girl power

Disturbing conversation today. While we were waiting for Katie and Beth to come out of religious ed, Claire and Abbie began to talk about God.

"Jesus doesn't know I'm a person," Abbie said.
"You mean, you don't think Jesus knows who you are?" I asked her.
"Well, yes, but then Jesus showed me her baby! It was very cute."

??? There were so many things wrong with this that I didn't know where to begin. I plowed through, though, and thought I did a pretty good job, considering the fact that I had somehow allowed my child to form the belief that Jesus is a girl.....who has a baby.

I thought I had cleared the air, but then Claire piped up, "Well Jesus is a boy, Abbie. Because God is a girl!"
"Um, no" I corrected her, "God is also a boy."
"No silly! God is a girl!"
"No, really," I told Claire, realizing that she considered it a matter of course that God is female. "God really is a boy. Male. I mean - God is the Father, Jesus is the Son." The sands were too precarious to even begin to explain the Holy Spirit here.

"Really?" asked Claire. "That's so strange."
"Yeah!" said Abbie, very emphatically beside her, "That is crazy."

Too much of a good thing

Chris brought some cupcakes home from a nearby bakery that just relocated near us. They have a great reputation, especially for cakes, and the cupcakes were.......well, much better than simple cupcakes should be.

Claire especially appreciated it. We knew this because she wolfed down her vanilla cupcake with chocolate frosting, and then she then proceeded to eat the paper wrapper. Chris asked her why her mouth was still so full, and she sheepishly spit the paper back onto her plate. Disgust and horror ensued.

They are good cupcakes, though.

I swear it isn't true, but there's no way I can dig out of this hole

Abbie to Grandma Mlinek, "My mommy said you are very, very old."

Thank God this woman has a sense of humor!

Renaissance Festival

Huzzah!

She torments me, but man she's cute!

It Figures

Remember that post I wrote about what a perfect baby Lucy is, and how she's so super-duper breezy-easy that I would looooove to have another?

Lucy hasn't slept a wink since.

Seriously, she has been taking 30 min naps instead of her usual 3 hr ones (just enough time for me to get Claire and Abbie settled, and grab my towel to hop into the shower, but not enough time to actually get into the shower.) She's also decided that it is fun to stay awake all night long. If I bring her into bed with us, she will giggle and pull my hair, kick Chris, nurse/stop nursing/nurse/stop nursing in rapid succession, and generally do other "awake" kind of things. If I actually get up and stumble to the couch to give her a bottle and re-settle her, she smiles and laughs at me and......doesn't go back to sleep. She's not crying during this or in any way unhappy. She's perfectly cheerful, but that isn't as cute as it can be when what I want is for her to be perfectly asleep.

So. I direct all of you to this blog, from a woman who is researching "The Five Stages of Exhaustion." I think she is really onto something; it describes exactly how these past 7 years have felt for me, but I am too tired to actually write something like that myself.

First day of school!

story later. for now, enjoy the pic!

Feelin' Groovy

For the record, this is not an announcement. I'll repeat it to make sure everybody is paying attention: This is NOT an announcement! But....

I heard somebody's good news yesterday, and I am very excited for her! (And her husband, I guess it's his news, too!) Something happened when I heard it, though, that took me by surprise because it never happens to me. I felt a teeny-tiny twinge of baby lust. Usually my reaction when others are expecting is to A) feel reallyreally happy for them, and B) feel reallyreally glad it isn't me. But this time I thought, "Oooooooh, babies are so great!"

Part of this, of course, is due to the fact that Lucy is the greatest baby on the face of the earth. No, seriously, she is. She's almost always happy, sleeps wonderfully (as long as I swaddle her tightly enough to keep her from rolling over), and smiles and giggles at us until we are all puddles of goo at her feet. Even Abbie, who is........feeling every inch of her two years, to put it delicately, is more than happy to lay any of her own needs or wants aside in order to keep Lucy's happy gurgles coming. It is easy to think about another baby when my current one requires about as much attention as Baby Zuttini Bread (who, by the way, isn't looking so hot these days.)

This is a weird place for me to be. I hardly expected to feel like life was getting easy enough to actually plan for another baby after struggling through five. But these kids just get more and more fun with every passing day, and I guess I'm finally feeling comfortable in my role as a mother - not just a girl with kids. This isn't to say that we are actually planning anything; we aren't. I don't know what God has in His plan for our family, and we aren't really in a place to figure it out right now. But don't bother asking me if we're done. I'm having too much fun to give any kind of definite answer.

Is this my life? Really?

Conversation overheard today:

Chris: Where is Abbie?
Claire: She's sitting on the steps, stinkin' up!
Chris (to Abbie, who just walked in) Are you poopie?
Abbie, nonchalantly: Yup. Sure am.

Later on, Beth warned me that Abbie had (again) taken her diaper off. I ran upstairs to find her, naked, sitting on her training potty. Directly across from her sat Claire, and before I opened the door I heard Claire say, "Just watch me, Abbie, and I'll show you how it's done!"

Mom, you are going to LOVE this

Alternate title for this post: What goes around comes around....

Cleaning the upstairs bathroom this morning, I noticed several toothbrushes missing.
Me, to Beth: Why aren't the toothbrushes in the cup?
Beth: Oh, we left them at Grandma's house.
Me, thinking you left Grandma's house on SUNDAY!: So everytime I asked you guys if you brushed your teeth, and you all answered, "yes".......
Beth: We were just brushing with our fingers.

Scary thing here is that this is a scene directly out of my childhood, Grandma's house, finger-brushing and all. The only difference, to my shame, is the amount of time elapsed before discovery. Luckily for the girls I couldn't flip out too terribly much, seeing how I once went an entire week under the same circumstance.

Lucky for them, indeed.

The truth laid bare

I hate potty-training. Hate it, hate it, hateithateithateithateit. It has been a cruel twist of fate, too, that every time I begin potty-training I always have at least one baby happily soiling diapers in the wings, reminding me that even if this experience isn't the shoot-me-in-the-head-now-and-end-this-agony kind, I only have a few short months before I'll have to do it again.

But Abbie is ready. She's been ready for a while, but I've had concerns about her small motor strength. I mean, she has a brain tumor and all; I should really give myself - I mean her, I should give her, of course, ha ha! - a break. Give her a chance to build up her strength, you know........ Unfortunately, her motor skills have improved enough that she has the ability to take her diaper off at will. And take it off she does, several times a day. She will keep it dry for a few hours and then suddenly soak it through, but instead of informing me that she needs a change now, she'll just take it off and wait until the panicked cries of her sisters alert me to the situation.

Sunday, though, is when I had to admit defeat. The time has come to pull out the old (disgusting, stinking) training potty. On second thought, the time has come to buy a new one so that we have at least a few days until it too becomes unbearable and un-cleanable.

See, we were at mass on Sunday, and the girls were all behaving beautifully. At one point Abbie began to stage-whisper to me about her diaper, but I shushed her quickly and she quieted down. It was all just going so well, even Lucy was being quiet and reverent. Abbie remained silent beside me, wiggling around of course, but I hardly even notice that anymore. I'm not sure what prompted me to look down at her, perhaps it was an impression that there was more flesh-color than usual in my peripheral vision. I looked down, and saw Abbie beside me with her rear-end bare for all the world (and all the back of the church) to see. Her diaper had been bugging her, so she just pulled it around her ankles, taking her skirt with it. Due to the nature of our five curious girls, Chris and I usually alert each other clearly if we need to take someone out of mass, but there was no time in this scenario. I grabbed Abbie, bare bottom and all, and hauled out of there as fast as I could. We were in the bathroom before my frazzled mind settled and I realized that I hadn't even tried to cover her backside up during our retreat.

Oh well. I'm sure some people were appalled, and some people amused. I'm mostly sure, though, that Abbie's diapered days are numbered.

too much of a good thing

I have become very good, masterful even, at sneaking zucchini into food. This past week we have enjoyed zucchini bread, of course, zucchini brownies (surprisingly delicious! You'd never guess it was loaded - loaded!- with zucchini), zucchini spaghetti sauce, zucchini omeletes, sauteed zucchini, zucchini-squash medley, and hamburger zucchini. So I guess the following exchange should not have taken me by surprise.

My mom is taking the older three girls for a couple of days, and she called to ask them what they would like to eat during their stay at her house. When she asked Beth this question, she responded, "Anything, really......well, not zucchini."

Not exactly like Nietzsche

Lucy continues to terrorize us with her rolling over. As I type, she is fussing and squirming on the floor, furious at her own physical ability. I cannot wait until she figures out how to roll back off of her stomach!

I guess Claire was concerned yesterday about Lucy's mental health, because she came up with a clever idea to keep her from rolling over. She was working diligently in the living room, where Lucy was stretched out, quietly for once, on the floor, when Claire proudly called me in to see her solution. She had surrounded Lucy with pillows, the idea being that Lucy wouldn't roll onto them, and would thus stay on her back. (This doesn't actually work, but it was sweet of Claire to try.)

As I was thanking Claire for all her hard work, we both looked down at Lucy on the floor, surrounded on all four sides by the pillows. It sort of had the general shape of a cross, Lucy spread out in the middle. Claire looked up at me and said, "Hey! Lucy looks just like the dead God!"

Uh-oh.

Three months old, and already this? Lucy is rolling over. Like, all the time. If I leave her alone for even a few seconds, I can be guaranteed that she'll be belly-down when I next look, those chubby little legs of hers kicking for all they're worth. This would be cute, adorable even, if it did not interfere with her heavenly sleep-all-night routine. She loves rolling so much that she is even doing it in her sleep, which wakes her up. This is Not Good. These first three months were a wonderland of ease - lots of sleep for everyone, making family life so fun and happy. But now we are tired. Tired and cranky.

It's hard to be angry at this little goof, though. Her response when I come to get her is always the same: when the hall light comes on, she stops crying, and when she sees my face over the rim of her crib she gives me a huge smile and a gurgle. Too sweet, too cute........but a little too often as well.

(As a note, I don't know that I have mentioned Lucy's eye on here, but I know this picture really highlights it. She has had a cyst on her eyelid since her third week of life, and it has been slowly growing bigger ever since. We are monitoring it, and hoping for the best. If it begins to damage her eyesight then we will need to consider our options, but for now it isn't bothering her so it isn't bothering us.)

Purty little girls!

It is nearly impossible to get all of the girls to take a good picture at the same time. Especially on Sundays before they've been allowed to eat their dougnuts. Here they are, though. Grandma Mlinek, you have really outdone yourself this time! We are all amazed at how beautiful these dresses are!

The life and times of Baby Zuttini

I thought we were making progress yesterday. Abbie came over to me and sensibly explained that the baby bunnies were hungry, and she thought it would be a good idea to set Baby Zuttini Bread outside so they could eat it. We didn't actually do it - our yard critters don't need encouragement to hang around looking for free meals, but I thought it was a good sign that Abbie's love affair with the zucchini was coming to an end.

But then an hour or two later the Make-A-Wish Foundation volunteers came over to ask Abbie what her wish is. The first thing she did - and I mean the very, very first thing - was to dash downstairs and grab Baby Zuttini Bread so that she could introduce it to them. They were, of course, very impressed with Abbie's beloved vegetable.

Her wish, by the way, was to go to Walt Disney World. Those of you who know me well may laugh at that, knowing my long, deep hatred of all things Disney - his fake "World" in particular- but.........the Make A Wish setup is pretty sweet, and I need to set my personal distaste aside because the girls will really enjoy it. We'll find out in a couple of weeks if her wish is granted (and it probably will be.) I'm just hoping, at this point, that come January we won't need to tote along a withered and mummified Baby Zuttini Bread.....

File under: my kids are weird

We are so surrounded by zucchini here that it is beginning to warp the girls. I had this coming, I guess, what with my childhood haunted by my lost beloved "Pet Pepsi Bottle." I should have expected at least one of my kids to develop a random affection for some inanimate object. But this? This I just didn't expect.

Here is Abbie with her new favorite toy. Her name is "Baby Zuttini Bread," and she now follows Abbie wherever she goes. It's been three days now since Baby Zuttini came into our lives, and I have to say that she's not exactly looking her best; we can overlook the many (many, many) scratches and nail marks now pocking her squeaky green skin, but her wilting top (head? hair? ) has me worried. Abbie is trying so hard, though, to take good care of Baby Zuttini. She feeds her, rocks her to sleep, admonished her when she asks for too many Pedia-Sures, and wraps her up in blankets to keep her warm. She also dances with her - Baby Zuttini really likes to dance.

If this lasts much longer, we are going to need to replace Baby Zuttini. I have enough replacements for sure, but let's hope it doesn't actually comes to that.

Dude, who puked in here?

This is a post I began a few weeks ago, but just got around to finishing today. So if you read this and think, "Hey, I was there for that -- this is old news!" bear with me please.

I walked into my bathroom yesterday and noticed something.....odd. There were little tiny orange-ish splatters on the side of the tub, and on further investigation I saw more little splatters around the toilet bowl and on the wall behind it.

My first order of business, of course, was to clean it up but while doing so I couldn't help but wonder, "Who puked in here?" and, "Why didn't he or she tell me?" Once I was finished, I went out and delicately tried to ask Chris if he had recently vomited in our bathroom. I don't want to give the impression that my husband is in the habit of sloppily puking all over the bathroom, but I couldn't quite see how one of the kids could manage without me knowing about it. Chris, as you may imagine, was surprised by the question and a little bit offended. So I went on, much like the little bird who is looking for his mother, the main difference of course being our questions. His was "Are you my Mother?" while I was asking, "Did you throw up in the bathroom?"

No-one admitted to it. After getting four individual denials, we rounded everyone up in the living room, hoping to tickle some information out of them in a group setting. Blank faces all around: no-one had any memory of recently throwing up. Looking into their little faces one by one, I saw not one trace of knowingness. I began to doubt myself; had I puked in the bathroom, could I have been the one who forgot?

The sorry truth, however, is that one member of the family had already been on a streak. She had taken a trip to Friendly's with her grandparents and turned it into one of her signature "quick, throw as much money as you can on the table and maybe they'll forgive all the vomit," exits. Two days later she puked in our yard because she was afraid of slugs. Then she went into the house in puked in the (other) bathroom. You know who this is, of course. Claire. And it is unfortunately entirely plausible that she would run into my bathroom, vomit, and then walk away as if nothing had happened. She's kind of a pro like that.

We'll never know for sure who the mystery-puker is. But I'll always have my suspicions. In the meantime I wonder: why is it that living with small children is so very much like living in a frat house???

End of an era

I finished the 7th Harry Potter book today. On first impression, I think it might be my favorite of the series. Right now, though, I'm feeling a little sad knowing that there will be no more news from the Wizarding World. I am going to miss the delight and surprise, the mystery and suspense that came with each new book.

However I suspect that there is still new joy to be found at Hogwarts, because this afternoon I found this:

Let the fun begin!

How much zucchini bread can one family possibly eat?

The bounty of the earth is stressing me out.

I totally know that it's bad to let the zucchini grow so big - the only thing it's good for at this size is bread. Lots and lots of bread. But I can't keep up with it! I swear, I'll go outside one day and see a few teeny tiny little zucchini-ettes, but the very next day they've grown so heavy that the girls can't help me carry them into the house. Aaaaurgh! Does anybody want one of my giant zucchinis? Anyone? Anyone?

I don't yet know the zucchini-bread-consuming limits for a family of 6 (or 5, really. Lucy isn't yet participating.) But I have a feeling that, by the end of the summer, that question will be solved.

Beth's first lost tooth!

Beth lost her very first tooth on Sunday! The only reason we even knew that it was loose was because Chris noticed how lopsided it had become. He called Beth over, wiggled the tooth, and realized that it was just hanging on by a thread. Beth was amazed, as she had not noticed it. Not noticed that her tooth, the one in the very front of her mouth, was about to dangle its way right out of there. So Chris, who is a serious wanna-be dentist, grabbed a paper towel and pulled it out. I was expecting a repeat of the hysterics we went through when Chris pulled Katie's first tooth (and her second, and her third....), but Beth was very stoic about the whole thing. That is, until it was time for bed.



I was outside swimming laps, when Beth apparently came sobbing down to the basement. After much eye-rubbing and gasping for breath, Chris finally got her to tell him what was wrong. The problem was that she was upset about the Tooth Fairy. The way she saw it, she had just lost her very first tooth, and she didn't want to give it away. In between sobs, she told Chris, "This is my....first tooth.....and I.....don't want to....forget it."



So Chris tucked her back into bed, a little baggie holding both her tooth and a note for the tooth fairy snuggled in her hands. The note, which I would scan in and post if I could figure out how, read:



Dear Tooh Fairy,

Pleas leave the tooh.

Thank you,

Beth



The Tooth Fairy was very kind to forgo her usual wages on this occasion. We're hoping that Beth will be able to bear parting with her next tooth.

Scary. Scaryscaryscary

Lucy's life is perpetually in danger.

I was setting things up in the basement so that I could work out on our elliptical machine. This is a somewhat painful process, as I have to make sure that all four "big girls" are settled in safe and comfortable activities where I can reasonably expect them to leave me alone for 45 min. (This never happens, actually, but I keep hoping. Someday they are bound to discover that they can make it through less than an hour without my direct intervention.) Then I have to make sure that Lucy is fed, changed, and in a safe place (usually right beside the machine.)

So I set Lucy on the couch so that I could use both hands to carry her little chair over to the elliptical machine. As I rounded the corner, not ten seconds later, what did I see? Lucy was not on the couch. Lucy was precariously (oh, so very precariously) dangling from the arms of ABBIE, who was trying to carry her across the room.

I don't know how in the world Abbie managed to muster the strength to pick Lucy up. I don't know how in the world she managed to get her off the couch. I don't know how in the world she was able to carry her halfway across the basement with those scrawny, malnourished little arms of hers. I don't know how in the world Lucy wasn't dropped on her head.

And I don't know when in the world my heart will stop racing. It looks like I owe Lucy's Guardian Angel big time.

"A hit, a very palpable hit!"

The quote is from Hamlet.

The post concerns a groundhog.

Warning! The bottom of this post contains a picture of a dead animal. A very dead animal.

You've probably guessed by now, if you've followed our groundhog saga, that.....he did it! Chris shot the groundhog! I have been planning two posts about how weird my kids are, but this is big news and needs to take precedence. Plus, it kind of fits into the "my kids are very strange" theme.

I have been worried about how the girls would react when Chris actually killed the groundhog, or rather, groundhogs since we discovered that our unwelcome visitor procreated sometime this spring. But I completely underestimated how bloodthirsty these girls are. They were absolutely thrilled by the whole thing, and not only were they not upset, they actually fought over holding the bag containing the dead groundhog. And they clearly thought very highly of Chris' gun-totin' skills. We are not raising a passel of shrinking violets here.

So the funeral was held yesterday evening for "Little Groundhog." It was a very casual affair with little fuss. The grave is marked by a treestump, located convieniently on the edge of our property. And there is plenty of room for more graves.

So here are the promised pictures! I am aware that Abbie is really trashing-up the joint, what with the no clothes thing and the sagging diaper. I actually don't even know where her clothes went, she had been wearing a very pretty little sundress, and as for the diaper - well, we were distracted by all the bloodshed going on.

Notice, though, the size of this groundhog. Yes - it is the small groundhog. The big, clearly diseased one is still at large. But not for long. There is a new sheriff in town, and he's totin' a brand-new childsize rifle from WalMart, so watch out!

We've been busy growing things

Sorry about the long silence here. I'll be putting up several new posts in the next few days.

Abbie wakes up too early

Abbie has been waking up aroun 6:30am since the daylight savings change. This is most often a painful wakeup for Chris, as he's taken over monitor duties since Lucy's birth, but last night's conversation over dinner suggests that he is not the only one suffering from the early morning sunrise.

Said Abbie, "When I wake up in the morning it makes my body hurt."

You know you've gone over to the dark side as a mother when -

You realize that you actually just said:

"If you don't go downstairs right now and watch TV, I will send you to your room!"

Crazed rant

Um. It looks like I need to just keep this space blank. When you need to revise the revision, it's time to admit that you have a problem.

Prayers for charity, which I seem to have in short supply, and direction would be appreciated.

Happy Mother's Day!

To my Mom, my Mother-in-Law, Grandma Lamb and Gram Campbell -- thank you all so much for all you do. We love you! We really do, despite the fact that we haven't acknowledged it in any way (except for here, but blogs don't really count.) Thank you for putting up with idiots like us. The cards will be in the mail on Monday, I promise!!!

Side note, to highlight the unorganized mess that is me:

We went to the noon mass today, because the 1st Communion class was invited to participate in the May Procession. So we had plenty of time to get ourselves together -- I even curled my hair! I was proud of how well we were rolling on Mother's Day: no dirty faces, every head brushed, baby clean and fed. There we were, putting our best foot forward for Mother's Day!

Getting out of the car, though, I realized that Beth had her dress on inside out. Oh well, too late to fix that, I thought. Then, as Katie left to join the other kids in their Communion clothes, I realized that I hadn't put her veil on quite right, so that a big chunk of hair was sticking up out of the crown. Just let it go, I told myself, nothing you can do about it now. Sitting down in the pew, Lucy started to fuss so I picked her up out of her carrier realizing as her cold, wrinkled little feet hit my arm that I had forgotten to put her socks on.

What is amazing, even to me, about this is not that three out of my five children were not properly dressed for mass. It's that I not only did not notice these things until after leaving the house, I was actually congratulating myself for having them so well put together! Add this to the Alzheimer's that I will almost certainly contract in my old age, and you're looking at a scary picture.

So, a happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there. May you deserve the recognition more than I do!

When good groundhogs go bad

We loved our groundhog. Last year, I really enjoyed watching the little guy waddling around in the mornings, nibbling on the flowers. It gave our yard a cozy, country-ish feeling, and I really felt like the groundhog and I had a real connection, especially in our shared desire to never, never, ever actually encounter each other face to face. If I so much as tapped the window, the groundhog would dart back into his hole. We never heard so much as a rustle when we were outside. Those were nice days.

Last weekend, we noticed that the groundhog had grown bold after his winter hibernation. He mosied around the yard undisturbed while we tapped on the windows at him, and when we went outside he kept his little head poked out of his burrow entrance, watching us. This seemed strange, but we weren't really alarmed. That is, until things got creepy.

In the late afternoon last Saturday, after everybody who had come over for Katie's Communion had gone home, the groundhog decided to pay us a visit. I was upstairs, and heard Chris yell urgently for me to come down to the basement. What I saw there forever shattered my little love affair with the groundhog. He was standing in front of our basement door with his nose pressed against the glass, looking in at us. His eyes were beady and evil. Worst of all, he was covered, covered in fleas who swarmed around him as though he were the decapitated pig's head from Lord of the Flies. Chris pounded on the glass, but our sinister visitor only backed up slightly, keeping those light less eyes fixed on us. It was seriously one of the freakiest things I've ever seen. I just know that this image is going to figure in my nightmares for some time to come.

Once again, our "fake country" feels a little too real for comfort. In a move that really pushes us towards hillbilly-hood, Chris ran out to Wal-Mart to buy himself a critter-shootin' machine. He spent most of yesterday afternoon sitting in the kitchen with his shotgun, waiting for the groundhog to make his appearance. Of course, now that the groundhog has asserted his dominance of the yard he probably won't feel the need to wander in full view for a while. But when he does, Chris will be waiting.

Last summer I considered naming this creature. What a novice I was back then! This summer, I'm plotting out an animal graveyard.

This puts a whole new spin on an old family joke

Chris and I often joke about selling off one of the girls, since we have so many in reserve. But we had no idea just how lucrative the concept could be...

Chris' sister Becky needed to come up with something to auction off for her school's fundraiser. She often talks about "the neices" to her students, so she decided to put up a picnic, hosted by herself and attended by the winning student, with our four older girls attending.

Now, I suspect that Becky is a popular teacher. I know she really loves her students, and I think it's pretty mutual. So I don't necessarily attribute the bidding war that ensued purely to the attraction of spending an afternoon with my kids. But there was a bidding war, and the winning bid is.......impressive. How impressive? I'm not going to tell you the exact amount, but if you guessed a thousand dollars, you are waaaaaaaaaay off.

These girls are no cheap date.

So now we're a little nervous that this kid won't get her money's worth out of our girls. On the other hand, though, after hearing this exchange between Claire, Abbie and Grandpa Mlinek I think I should be nervous that she will:

Claire: Grandpa?
Grandpa: Yes?
Claire: One time, I fell off the swing and hurt my vee-ginia.
Abbie: BE-GINIA!
Claire: No, Abbie. It's "VEE- GIE-NEE-AH." It really hurt, Grandpa. Right here. I was so sore!
Abbie: BE-GINIA! BEE-GINIA!

What's a Grandpa to do in this situation? Chuckle a tiny little bit.
And look nobody in the eye.

Katie's First Communion

Happy First Communion, Katie! We are so, so proud of you and how well you "get" the mystery of the Eucharist. God bless you, little one.

Oh, hey! We also have some good news...

On top of the baby and all, we have a great update on Abbie!

She had an MRI a few days before Lucy was born, and the results have come in: the tumor has not grown at all, but there is significantly less dye enhancement. What this means is that the tumor is potentially going dormant! That would be absolutely wonderful, because then Abbie could be taken off the chemo and radiation could be delayed indefinitely. Her spine is also looking much healthier, meaning that most of the damage from her surgeries has been healed. So we'll see how her next MRI looks, but we now have a glimmer of hope that she may be spared radiation at such a young age.

All in all, very good news to get before having another baby! :)

More pictures of Lucy and her sisters

Introducing our spider monkey!

Lucy Anna made her entrance into the world without a hitch, at a surprisingly tiny 7lbs 15 oz. I was sure that she was going to be a gigantic baby due to the all the excessive and painful kicking going on, but as it turns out she is just very squirmy. So far she's an excellent baby, never fussy and eats like a champ. The only issue we need to address is her habit of waking up around midnight and remaining bright-eyed and bushy-tailed until about 4am. Hopefully we can talk some sense into her soon.

Friday the 13th....

Is looking like a lucky day for me!

I'm just packing up some last minute stuff, and then Chris and I are heading out to the hospital!

I'll have someone update the blog and post a picture or two at some point either today or tomorrow.

And if you have any spare prayers to throw my way, that'd be cool. :)

Yet another girl meets her destiny?

Beth wrote this story entirely by herself, and I've typed it out exactly as it is written. She asked for help on how to spell "garden" and "trick" but she figured out the rest herself.
I'm just the mom, of course, but I think it's pretty darn impressive for a five year old!!!! Enjoy:

The Big garden with a tree and a bee and a flours.
A trick book
Beths book

The big garben with a tree and a bee and a flours.
Thare wus a big garden with a lots of flours. in the garben thare is a big tree and a bee eding the nektr in the flours.
the girl lickt's too pick flours but wen the bee wus going uwaey she will picks the flours.
the end
and a girl waching all of the flours and the bee and the tree.

T minus 2 days

I am only going to do this once. And only because I was asked very nicely.

Please disregard the weird look on my face - getting the picture right was harder than I thought, and I was really concentrating! :)

Happy Easter!

Despite being totally jacked up on candy......



















the girls were angels for Easter! :)

More Tales of Claire and Abbie

Abbie's tumor has had more ramifications than I ever expected. For example: playing doctor.

"Doctor" has been a favorite game around here since the dawn of our children. Katie and Beth have spent countless hours slaving over either Chris or me, almost always resulting in the need to amputate at least one limb. They give shots, slap on band aids, listen to heartbeats -- all the usual stuff. Claire and Abbie, though.....well, their game has reached a whole new level.

I recently had one of those moments that really made it hit home; my kids know way more than they should about medical procedures. Claire and Abbie were playing doctor, and they ushered me into the guestroom for an impromptu surgery. Abbie very methodically checked my arm for a good vein, and then gave me an IV. She then took a blood sample to check for infection. Claire did the MRI to see where my tumor was, then put the anaesthesia into the IV line. They operated on the tumor, making sure to close and then wash the incision. And when I woke up, they made me take a sip of juice to make sure I was swallowing OK. Then they gave me pain medication and told me that I needed to start rehabilitation right away.

Pretty dead-on. At least, it's a far cry from the "here's your band aid, let me listen to your wrist with the stethoscope," we used to encounter in our pre-cancer days. I assure you, Katie and Beth never even thought to start an IV when they played doctor!

It's sad in a way, but funny in a way, too. At the least, it seems like Abbie's ability to play (and enjoy) this type of game is a healthy sign. Despite all the trauma, she's managed to avoid being traumatized. There is something sick and wrong in watching the two of them play doctor, but there is something beautiful and heartening about it, too. That Abbie (and Claire, who has seen, and thus had to process, more hospital action than the older girls) can tread this ground with such a light heart, such unconcern, shames me when I think of all the stupid things I've let myself be affected by. So hook me up the IV, girls! I can take it.

Proof that we have been overusing a certain phrase....

Claire woke up at 5am on Friday because she suddenly realized that her bear wasn't in her bed. She looked for it, then came down to enlist me in the search. I took her back up to her room, did a cursury look (no bear) and then convinced her to wait until morning to find Bear.

As Claire was climbing back under the covers, a little voice from Abbie's side of the room piped up, "Be quiet, Claire! I am SICK and TIRED!"

Melt my heart

Overheard during lunch:

"Hey, Princess?"

"I'm not a princess, I'm a ballerina."

"Oh, Ballerina? I love you."

"I love you too, darling."

Palm Sunday, or How To Torture A Young Family

Mass on Palm Sunday. Ah.

Our first mistake was to pick our mass time without reference to which priest would be presiding. Our parish has two wonderful priests, and we like both of them very much. However, one is lucid and mercifully succicint while the other is pretty elderly and not in the best of health, and a very sloooooooow talker to boot. Veeeeeeeeeery sloooooooooooow. Think Princess Bride guy, without the speech impediment.

Katie and Beth did a wonderful job. I need to state this first. Katie followed along in her new First Communion mass book, and she enjoyed reading the entire gospel as it was read. Beth couldn't quite follow the entire thing, but she could read the congregation's lines and that was enough to hold her interest.

Abbie, though, just really wanted to talk to Chris. She had a lot on her mind, I guess, and the long pauses between each word being read seemed like the perfect time to convey these thoughts to her Daddy. Claire, on the other hand, was not happy with all the attention I was giving Beth (I was pointing out the audience response ahead of time so that she would be ready) and decided that I need to read something to her. Right now. She wasn't satisfied by my efforts to show both her and the Beth the same book and in protest she began to squirm against me, evidently trying to touch as much of my body at once as humanly possible. And so Beth leaned in closer to me as well, both to see the book better and, I suspect, to defend her territory. And at that moment the baby started to kick me. Hard. I have never felt so claustrophobic in my life. Black spots were literally growing around my peripheral vision and it was becoming impossible to breathe. Meanwhile, Claire began crying because she wanted attention, Beth was shoving her head right into the part of my stomach where the baby was squirming, and the priest was up on the alter taking a full minute to read each. and. every. line. And then Abbie decided that she needed to be near Mommy as well.

We were smack in the middle of the pew, and there was nowhere for me to flee. Cue hormonal pregnant tears.

So Claire was crying, I was crying, Abbie was clearly thinking about crying, the baby was trying to break my ribs, Beth was shoving the book at me to keep on track, and Chris - from his end of the pew where there was air to breathe and just one, perfectly behaved 7 year old quietly reading, gave me a look that clearly said, "what is your problem?"

And Pilate said to the crowd, "What offense has this man committed?"
And they responded, "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

Holy Week is going to be great. No, really, it is. Because I'm getting my own pew. And we'll see then who gets to leave mass with dry eyes.

38 weeks down, 15 days to go....

Eeep.

Commence panic.


(This is only a countdown to my due date - potential c-section is still not a sure thing, nor has it been scheduled yet!)

The Mole's Hollow - not just a euphemism!

Remember the post where I mentioned my fear of whatever was rustling in the dead weeds? Well, guess what? When I named this blog, little did I realize just how appropriate it would be.

As far as I can tell, we have at least one mole living with a vole or two right beside the house. We have one very large, very distinctively mole-ish hole, surrounded by a ton of little holes, with a few vole-specific runways thrown in. I guess it's Wind in the Willows out there, where all the animals are living in harmony. Excepting of course the large mammals living in this house, all of whom are pretty hostile to anything that qualifies as a rodent.

So, what to do? Part of me thinks that the idea of moles hanging around the garden is kind of cute. But then the other part of me saw a picture of a mole, and was terrified by how freaky it looked. Then there's the other part of me, the one who still says "pop," and "nebby," and who thinks that black and gold is a beautiful combination - this part of me can't help but thinking, "I need a safe place - somewhere with lots of concrete, where I can feel at home."

I thought we moved to the fake country. What are all of these real animals doing here?

Every single day, at least once

Abbie will come up to me and ask, "Is that baby coming out now?"

"No," I say, "not yet."

"Okay," is her always her answer, and off she goes on her merry way.

Funny thing is, I think she actually gets it -- I think she actually understands that an actual baby is coming to stay with us. (Side note: carrying a baby seems to kill certain parts of the brain -- the parts that can think of synonyms for words like "actual." Sorry for the inconvenience.)

Still hanging in!

Sorry for the long delay in updates! My site meter tells me that 14 people check this blog out every day, but you 14 people must be very loyal since I've lately been getting "are you still alive? why haven't you updated the blog?" emails every day. Thanks for the love! :) I've been....well, trying to get ready for the baby and stuff, but the real reason I haven't updated in a while is that I've been consistently choosing naps over computer time.

So, just a few quick notes and then I promise to put up kid stories tomorrow!

• First off, to my mom's friend Patty - I got your package, and I am really, really touched. Thank you so much! I fully intend to get a thank-you note out, but I wanted you to know that your gift just made my day, and the blanket is gorgeous.
• Please pray that we can get a date set for this baby's baptism. Our new parish is wonderful in many ways, but the office stinks and thus far I haven't been able to reach anybody who is willing to schedule a baptism. Please also pray that I manage to contain my spite and hatred, both of which are starting to build alarmingly.
• The baby is looking like she's a big 'un, so I'll have a sonogram next week to see if I am definitely C-section bound.
• Abbie has her next MRI the Monday after Easter. We have confidence that it'll show no growth, since she continues to get stronger every single day. Please keep her in your prayers, anyway, though!

Blowing the stink off

Almost all of my gardening knowledge comes from reading The Secret Garden in grade school.
This unfortunately means that for me, "gardening" translates into wandering around with a pocketknife whispering, "Dost tha' think 'tis wick?"

What this means in plain language is that the afternoon the girls and I spent weeding today will either yield a prettier yard in the Spring, or a dead one. I have no way of knowing which it will be.

We had a really good time, though! The weather was beautiful, and it just felt so good to get outside for a good long time. The girls were very helpful, picking up the piles (and piles and piles) of dead stuff I'd hacked up and carrying them over to the fire pit. At first I was overwhelmed by the amount of debris I was making, and I couldn't figure out how I was going to fit all of that into the trash cans, but then I remembered -- hey! I have a fire pit! I felt very resourceful as we fed the dead....whatever they were into the fire.

It's a good feeling to have spent the day working outside, and despite the fact that I am an enormous 34 weeks pregnant and had an entourage of prissy little girls as my labor force, we got quite a lot done. There is still that patch beside the house to do, and part of one down by the swingset, but I distinctly heard....something, and it seemed best to leave that to when Chris is around to shield the girls from my terrified reactions. Uh, or to just let Chris tackle it himself. I love it here in the fake country, but I'm still a city girl when it comes to critters.

Maybe it's time to break out the holy water when...

...you overhear one little bright-eyed, mop-headed child suddenly exclaim to the other, "My finger talks to me!".....

....and she extends her pointer finger and, bending it in time to her voice, responds in a low, growly voice, "You need to eat that sandwich or you'll get in trouble."

Heaven help me, the mirror above my dresser gives a perfect view of the wall above my bed. Let's all hope I don't wake up to any lip-stick prophecies scrawled out backwards anytime soon.

Oh, and Abbie....

...Is doing just fine. The infection is completely gone with the removal of the line. They still haven't identified what the actual infection was - they sent a specimen to the Mayo Clinic, it was so exotic, so it is definitely for the best that it is gone.

She feels just dandy, and the only lingering issue is the fact that she has finally realized what an opportunity she has to milk sympathy. If she wants a toy that Claire is playing with, she is now very likely to remind Claire in a pathetic voice that she's "so sicky." When she wakes up in the middle of the night (the hospital has wreaked havoc on her nighttime routine) she almost always tells me that she can't sleep because "I'm sick. I'll throw up."

Wow. Time to dial down the pity for little brain-tumor-girl, before she turns into a monster. The problem is, she is so darn cute and knows exactly how to charm everyone. The biggest danger is not that Chris and I might spoil her, but that her sisters might. She has the three of them completly wrapped around her little finger, and they seem to be defenceless against her powers.

It just may be that this new baby will truly be the one to "bring balance to the Force," since the Force is so unusually strong in Abbie. But like Darth Vader's last encounter with Obi-Wan, I don't know that she will like the competition.

Dinner out!

Despite the fact that we see the Lobers all the time, practically veiw them as family, and have spent most of the last 7 years living near them, we have never actually done anything with them sans children since college.

We are stupid that way.

Well, Vanessa really took the reins and not only tracked down a babysitter for her kids through our parish, she also found one for us! The babysitters are in fact cousins, and live next to each other. So yesterday afternoon, we introduced the girls to "Miss Clare" (the "Miss" to distinguish her from little Claire) and hit the town with the Lobers. Actually, we hit a local restaurant, where I really did justice to the "eating for two" myth. It was very, very cool -- I almost forgot what it is like to go out with other people! It's so grown-up! And the girls had a very good time, introducing Miss Clare to the joys of Uno (of course) and finding out that she is willing to really commit to a game of pirates.

We may have to do this again sometime. Soon. And as an added bonus, we could actually go out sometime with Becky and Dante, too, something else we never do because they are usually the ones playing Uno and chasing down rogue pirates.

Wow. It's a whole new world. :)

Clean as Snow

Katie had her First Confession yesterday! She was a little nervous, but told me that she felt very "light and happy" afterwards. :)

We've been practicing the Act of Contrition every night before bed, so just about everyone in the house has it memorized. (They have my version memorized, I should say. Chris and I learned different versions, and neither of us like the other's. I do bedtime prayers 90% of the time, though, so my version it was!) So it has been a very common occurance around here to hear tiny voices floating around randomly, saying things like "I am heartily sorry for having offended thee." Beth, of course, as my little word-phile, loooves it and memorized the prayer before anyone else did. Hopefully, Katie confessed the not-quite charitable response she had when she realized this. :)

Home at last!

Abbie had her line taken out today, and is now resting happily in my bed upstairs. Her bloodwork kept coming back with bacteria present, so it was obvious that the infection had reached her line. Now that the line is out, though, the infection should clear up right away (she's still on antibiotics, but we no longer need to give her the high-powered stuff through IV that she's been on the past few days.) We'll go back on Friday to have more bloodwork done, just to be sure, but it seems safe to say that she's in the clear.

The positive in all of this is that as long as nothing happens to neccessitate (sp? too lazy to check it) another line being put in, she'll finally be able to take regular baths and go swimming this summer! To quote Abbie, "Whee-hoo!" This is going to make the summer so, so much easier!

It is funny to think that this hospital stay -- all due to that stupid "fever-less" stomach bug -- has ended up being only one day shorter that Abbie's second brain surgery. Thank goodness they let us go home today! We were all starting to go a little buggy, although I have been extremely proud of how well the older girls' behaved through all of this. They spent quite a few days caged in that little room with us all day, and their behaviour was never less than impeccable. By the time we left, everyone knew about "that family with the five sweet girls," and the nurses were plying them with ice cream and stickers at every turn.

We're all pretty tuckered out from this unexpected week in the hospital, so now it's off snuggle in bed with Abbie and Claire, and murmur to myself, "there's no place like home!" :)

We knew this was bound to happen at some point, but it still stinks

Update 2/17 : The results are back, and the infection is still growing. This came as a surprise to everyone, and we still don't know for sure exactly what it means. The infection could possibly be in her line (the broviac) itself, in which case it will need to be removed. In any case, she's not getting out of the hospital anytime soon. Please pray.



Abbie had to be hospitalized due to an infection that reached her blood.

She's doing pretty well in the hospital now, the antibiotics are clearly already working and she's enjoying free reign over the t.v. and the loooong trips to the playroom.

The stomach-bug that I happily proclaimed a fever-free one turned ugly for Abbie in the wee hours between Wed and Thursday. I took her in to the Hem/Onc Clinic Thursday morning for some antibiotics, and they sent me home. Very early this morning, though, we got the call that her lab results were back, and that her blood contained a grand-positive infection, and that she needed to come back right away. And there she still is. Chris is spending the night there right now, and in the morning the girls and I will head back to relieve him. We're hoping for a clear blood culture in the morning, which would mean that Abbie can be discharged. There is a chance that she'll be have to stay through the weekend, though.

The scary thing about all of this is what a little, insignificant illness triggered the infection, and how quickly it spread to her blood. There was a space of about 6 hrs between the onset of a fever and the presentation of infection in her blood. That doesn't exactly give us much breathing room. What happens if her next fever comes while we're away from home? What would have happened if her fever had spiked just a day earlier, during a snowstorm? Whew. Please pray for her healing, and that luck (via God) continues to be on our side should this happen again.

p.s. this is written right before bedtime, after a week of no sleep and a day spent in the hospital, so please excuse any typos and/or spelling/grammatical errors. :)

Happy Valentine's Day

I don't usually put things up here that aren't directly related to the kids, etc. (except that one about Bridge to Terebithia, but anti-Disney rants should always be an acceptable exception.) This story really touched me, though, so here it is.

This couple was found during an archealogical dig in Mantua. The story sounds pretty tragic, but beautiful in a morbid kind of way.

By the way, Chris is out of town, the girls have all been sick since Sunday. Abbie has been sleeping in 30 min spurts, and I spent the majority of last night bent over the toilet myself (not easy with this huge stomach.) This is all the Valentine's Day sentiment I can muster.

You know you are living in a house full of girls when....

I wonder why that door is closed......





Oh. Of course.

Well, she has a point.

Me: Look how big that baby is making my belly!!

Abbie: No! That's just cookies and milk and pizza.

UNO!

Uno-fever has swept the Mlinek house. The girls just can't get enough. We've been playing a minimum of four or five games every day for the past month or so.

The funny thing, for me, is that I am really not much of a card-playing type of person. I'm also not a big fan of board games. They've just always struck me as.....boring and pointless, to be honest. I used to smirk at the pictures on the board-game boxes depicting those smiley, well-groomed families all gathered together engaging in Family Fun, and I would thank my lucky stars that I wasn't in that kind of family. And now here I am, clearing off the dinner dishes most nights so that we can all play a few rounds of Uno. The only thing saving us from looking like a board-game family is the massive static-hair the girls have been sporting this winter.

Funny, though, how it doesn't seem boring to me at all now. I find myself really enjoying these games, especially as Claire and Abbie attempt to understand the logistics of it all. It's also an actual challenge to NOT win when luck is on your side and you have a 4 yr old who knows our "draw 4" card will devastate the player beside us and really, really wants to use it.

So, I guess I'm becoming domesticated? I don't know, but my feelings about gathering around games like this are definitely changing. I guess it's partly because.....well, it's fun to spend time with these girls. They are smart, and funny, and can occasionally throw in some wicked moves. And I like feeling all cozy and together-y. The biggest thing, though, is that they just enjoy it so much! It's hard not to catch their enthusiasm and it's nice to spend this time with them, this time that I know will be short-lived, when the best night they can conjure is one spent playing cards with Mommy and Daddy.

Just don't ask me to break out Monopoly.

The perils of re-reading Harry Potter while pregnant

I woke suddenly last night due to a horrible, horrible leg cramp. This happens all the time when I'm pregnant. But last night it was enhanced by my fuzzy half-dreaming conviction that I had just been put under the Cruciatus Curse.

This won't make sense to some people, but the Harry Potter fans .......... you know this is funny!

"You may not come out of time-out until you stop screaming!"

"But Mommy! When you made me go to time out it broke my heart!"

Musings from the frozen aisle

I ran to the grocery store this afternoon to pick up some milk and stuff to make nachos, but once in the store I thought I should pick up some apples while I was at it. Then I remembered that we are almost out of lunch juice boxes, then ...........well, you know how it goes.

As I was trudging through there, though, I was suddenly struck by how much more food we need, and how little it lasts. The bigger girls (Katie and Beth) are starting to eat more like normal people, less like toddlers who exist on some mystery plane that apparently doesn't require regular intake of food. Claire, too, has an appetite that is beginning to have a direct affect on the shopping list. (Abbie, of course, is still a nonfactor, unless you count bannanas and oatmeal.) I bought a box of frozen waffles a week or two ago as a special treat, but they are still in the freezer. Why? Well, when I got them home I realized that six waffles divided among four girls leaves.....not enough waffles. The funny thing is that when I bought them, I had a fleeting vision of happy, syrup-y mornings. Note the plural! I planned on using the waffles for at least two breakfasts, not realizing that while I was daydreaming my family had moved beyond a one-box demand.

Wow. Someone told me, back when Katie was a tiny newborn, that "it all goes by so fast." At the time I thought this person must be on crack - the days were draaaaaging by as my baby refused to sleep, making each afternoon feel like a year. But......here I am, suddenly realizing that I am shopping for a little, newly-formed family when the reality is we're only two years shy of our 10 yr anniversary, and there are four (and soon five!) hatchlings waiting at home with open mouths. So again - wow. It all goes by so fast.

Girl meets Destiny

Happy Birthday Larry! I'm so glad that we were able to get you just what you wanted! Rock on, little girl.




As a side note: Claire asked for a "chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, that looks just like me!" Uh, I did my best.

Little Larry the loveable leper

This picture doesn't actually do justice to just how red and swollen the poor thing was. She's finally getting better after three days of looking shockingly terrible. No clue on why. But we're glad to have her sweet little self getting back to normal!

I've lost my faith in humanity

One of the perks of rooming with an elementary-ed major in college was digging through her stash of children's lit. (Thanks Monica!) When I picked up Bridge to Terebithia one afternoon, I spent the next few hours absolutely transfixed. By the end I was curled up in a ball on Monica's bed, sobbing my heart out. It is one of those books that give you that glimpse of what it must feel like to be in heaven; it is trulya peircingly beautiful book even though the events it describes aren't exactly happy ones.

And that is why this makes me want to vomit.

I freaking hate Disney. Hate them. Hate them!

How does a book about friendship in its deepest and most soul-searing incarnation turn into a movie about kids running around some cheesey fantasy-land with swords? How the heck were they able to put the name of this book that I absolutely love on this crappy Narnia-clone of a movie?

Augh. I guess there are no members of the race who know Joseph in Hollywood. At least, there aren't any working for Disney.

OK, am I on Punk'd?

No fevers this morning. But when Claire hopped into the bath this afternoon, I noticed that she had little red blotches on her hands. And her belly. And all over her legs.

It could just be a random case of hives - these happen to my kids from time to time, thanks to Chris' weird hive-prone genes. But if she still has it tomorrow? Well, after spending the morning at the Oncology clinic, I guess we'll be making yet another stop by the Pediatrician's. So fun.

I guess I can't exactly complain about not getting out - we're getting out plenty, it just happens that the destination always seems to involve a doctor.

In praise of my husband

With the girls hovering around various levels of illness the past two weeks, I have begun to increasingly feel like a rat in a cage.

A gigantic, crampy rat in a cage full of smaller, constantly chattering mice.

So Chris stepped up to the plate yesterday and released me out into the wild. "The wild" being Bed Bath and Beyond, and then the Towson mall with Vanessa.

Do you know what it feels like to step into a foul-smelling, cramped mall bathroom and get a surge of happiness because you realize that you don't need to finangle any little bottoms (with layers of toilet paper, let's hope those pants don't touch the floor, please don't fling your hair into the toilet when you pull them up!) into the stall with you? It's heaven.

So, I was MIA for a good four or five hours when I finally got a call from Chris, politely asking me to stop by the store to get Coke for Claire. Because she had spent the whole day throwing up. When I left the house, Claire hadn't even begun to sprout a fever (and yes, I checked - part of the daily routine lately has been a temp check for everyone upon waking.) Chris spent all day bent over the toilet holding Claire's hair out of her face, just so that I could get a little break.

Forget flowers and schmaltzy Hallmark cards; this, young ladies out there, is what true love is all about.

another man down

Katie still has a fever.

Claire spent all day vomitting.

Will Abbie make it? Tune in to find out!

Update on our health

Beth's fever is down, and her appetite is returning. By tomorrow she shouldn't be contagious anymore.

Abbie is still fever-free.

But Katie just said that her belly hurts. And her temp was 100.9.

$@#%!

The Magic of Bob Books, or How Beth is Incredibly Smart

Beth is going a little stir-crazy so I've been pulling out all sorts of things that were still in storage, in an effort to keep her entertained. I pulled out the "Bob Books" we used to re-inforce Katie's reading lessons, and to my surprise Beth was quickly able to read through the entire first box!

I've done nothing with her this year. She's gone through letter sounds in her kindergarten class, but they hadn't really begun to go through those in earnest until after Christmas. We went through the first book together, and I showed her how to mash the letter sounds together to sound out the words. And that was all it took - like magic, she suddenly could read!

She's excited beyond belief, of course, and has been doing nothing but reading the Bob books all day. I'm excited, too. I can't believe how easily she picked this up, and how quickly she's picking up new concepts. I'm so proud of her, and already I can't wait until she's ready to start The Wind in the Willows on her own!

Strep Throat

So that's why Beth wasn't getting any better.

Prayers that Abbie can avoid this would be appreciated!

First successful quarantine

I probably shouldn't even post this, since I'm officially waiting until tonight to declare victory. But, things are looking pretty optimistic.

Three days ago, Beth came home from school with a raging fever. This sort of thing is never fun, but Abbie's condition puts a whole new spin on things. Her blood counts are down - not so much that it is alarming, but enough that her resistance to infection has been impacted. Plus, her broviac puts her at a much greater risk of sepsis; even a small infection can quickly travel to her heart and put her into septic shock.

So, we had to try to keep her healthy through Beth's illness. Not easy, especially when Abbie was so delighted to have Beth home from school that she wanted nothing more than to hug her all day long. To make things more complicated, we were having our kitchen painted, thus putting the kitchen out of use.

So, we put a movie on in the basement for Abbie and Claire, and Beth was put into quarantine in my bedroom (the only other room in the houe with a t.v.) Then the power went out. No movies for anyone. So we had Abbie and Claire, sitting around the increasingly frigid basement and Beth, stuck up in my bedroom with nothing to do but look at books, and occasionally run to the bathroom to vomit. Oh, and since we have a well, when the power goes out so does the water.

We made it through, though. Beth finally recovered and was able to go back to school today, and so far Abbie is showing no signs of developing a fever.

Thank God for small miracles. :)

Update:

Beth threw up in school again yesterday. I have no idea what is going on with her - she had no fever, although her temp went up a little by the evening. We are going on over a week now of this: she throws up, spikes a fever, then seems to go back to being perfectly fine. Until she throws up again. Ugh.

I am a prisoner in this house.

She knows

Twice now in the past month Katie has directly asked me, "If Santa Claus was not real, you would tell me, right?"

Both times I took advantage of the usual family chaos to avoid answering her. But the time had come, both Chris and I agreed.

We were nervous about this, partly because Katie is scrupulously truthful and might not understand why we had "lied" to her, partly because learning the truth had been so sad for both of us and we assumed it would be a similar experience for Katie.

So, yesterday, Chris took Katie out to get ice-cream. And he leveled with her about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and yes, even the Tooth Fairy. Katie's reaction, though, defied every one of our expectations. She sighed, and nodded, and said:

"Well, good. It makes me more comfortable to know that there aren't really people who come into our house when I am asleep."

She is not angry, she is not bitter, she is not even sad. No, Katie is relieved. It's a well-worn phrase, but I guess the truth really does set you free, even in the most unexpected of circumstances.

Found on the floor while sweeping....

Jalen's File
by: Katie Mlinek

Katie loves Jalen in the way like I like him but I like him so much you can say you love him in the way of like.

Our story began 8 years ago this very day....

Eight years ago today, in the middle of a blizzard, Chris and I began our life together. My mom had sent away to have masses said for us at the Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows, so I've always viewed that snowfall as a sign of blessing for our marriage. Although, on a practical level, it was pretty inconvenient (but it made for some really great snowboot-themed wedding pictures!)

As inconvenient as the snow was, it actually set the tone for things to come. We have been blessed beyond measure in our marriage, but our blessings always tend to come in strange ways and inconvenient packages. Almost every event in our marriage that at first seemed to be an overwhelming burden has brought us the most unlooked-for, unthought-of, but ultimately necessary blessings. Babies born in what conventional wisdom would deem bad times, too close together, too often. Chaos when we thought we needed serenity. Serenity when we thought we needed excitement.

Who are we to know what is best for us? I don't know that I would have planned for my life to go this way - toddler with cancer, kids in public school, five times the amount of kids all our friends have. I haven't written that best-selling novel I had planned on. Chris hasn't set the world on fire the way it was predicted he would. But......I love my husband with all of my heart. I admire him, I respect him; he is not only the best friend I have in the world, he is my model of virtue, the bright spot in my day when things are bleak. And, improbable as it seems to me, he feels the same way about me. This is something; something really rare, something really good, something I am proud to be a part of.

So, happy anniversary Chris! I don't know what other surprises are in store for us, but I know that you will be beside me when they come. And that is all that matters.

Happy New Year!

We let the girls (minus Abbie) stay up until midnight last night, so this was a slow-starting morning. So slow, in fact, that we still - at 5pm- haven't really begun the day. We're having a lazily cozy, slightly frowzy start to 2007. Everyone needs baths, but nobody has had one. Chris and I, and Beth, are still in our pjs. I think we may have potato chips for dinner.

Last night was really nice, with the Lobers coming over to ring in the New Year with us. The Lober small folk are more used to late nights, and I was afraid that my girls would not fare as well into the wee hours. But they were fine - a little hyper, but who can blame them with all the candy and chips they were eating? And nobody puked from the excess, which was both unusual and very cool.

So today is spent in recovering - a lot of laying around , reading books in front of the fire, nibbling on whichever leftovers still seem vaguely appealing. Like I said, lazy and cozy, and really very, very comfy and enjoyable. Here's to a 2007 filled with days like this: nothing to do, and nowhere to go, happy and safe at home. :)

Why I will probably need a C-section

On the 1st day of Christmas, my true love gave to me - about a million cookies
On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me peanut butter fudge
-and about a million cookies
On the 3rd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me candied sweet potatoes
-peanut butter fudge
-and about a million cookies
On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-peanut butter fudge
-and about a million cookies
On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me EXTRA STRENGTH TUMS!!!!
-Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-Peanut butter fudge
-and about a million cookies
On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me moist lemon pound cake
-EXTRA STRENGTH TUMS!
-Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-peanut butter fudge
-and about a million cookies
-On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me leftover ham
-moist lemon pound cake
-EXTRA STRENGTH TUMS!
-Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-peanut butter fudge
-and about a million cookies
On the 8th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me homemade caramels
-leftover ham
-moist lemon pound cake
-EXTRA STRENGTH TUMS!
-Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-peanut butter fudge
-and about a million cookies
On the 9th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me cornbread stuffing
-(we'll never eat it all)
-homemade caramels
-moist lemon pound cake
-EXTRA STRENGTH TUMS!
-Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-(I think I'm gonna puke)
-And about a million cookies
On the 10th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me the rum-balls no-one will eat!
-cornbread stuffing
-homemade caramels
-leftover ham
-(What's that fish smell in the fridge?)
-EXTRA STRENGTH TUMS!
-Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-(thank God that's almost gone)
-And about a million cookies
On the 11th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me 1 pound of M&Ms
-(Here comes diabetic shock)
-cornbread stuffing
-(am I the only one eating this?)
-leftover ham
-(the lemon cake is gone)
-EXTRA STRENGTH TUMS!
-Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-peanut butter fudge
-And about a million cookies
On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me four extremely wired girls!
-1 pound of M&Ms
-the rum-balls no-one eats
-cornbread stuffing
-(something really smells wrong in here)
-leftover ham
-(Is that a loaf of apple bread?)
-EXTRA STRENGTH TUMS!
-Cheerwine soda
-candied sweet potatoes
-peanut butter fudge
-and a gestating 12 lb baby!!!!

Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas to All!




And to all a good night:

Best wishes to everybody!

Excerpts from Katie's "Book about Me"

I wonder why the sky is blue.
I wonder who stole my dessert one day.
I wonder when it will rain.
I wonder if my dad's family is moving.
I wonder whether the clouds are blue or white.
I wonder how come it rains.
I wonder where my dad works.
I wonder what kind of fish live in deep, deep, deep water.

And now please keep in mind that she in only 7, and that even Fathers of the Church like St. Augustine went through some.......unorthodox phases :

If I could make a wish for the world it would be letting girls be priests too because I think it is not fair that only boys can be it
so that girls would think it would be fairer then.

Time to whip out my Blessed Edith Stein and try to channel this in some sort of positive direction, I guess.

Finally some help!

I know, I know, I need to get off of my lazy rear and download some pictures for a "Happy Birthday Abbie!" post.

But in the meantime, I just found some ammunition in my quest to squeak Katie through this Christmas without having the Big Santa Talk! :-p

New Haircut!

I was tired of constantly combing Claire's hair, only to have it immediately revert back to it's unruly ways. She has a little touch of Pig-Pen in her; she can look absolutely filthy merely minutes after taking a bath. So about two weeks ago, when we had an hour to spare between dropping the big girls off at school and Abbie's physical therapy, we made a quick trip to the hair saloon. And I love the results! Claire now looks cute, neat, and at least cleaner all the time now.
And she likes it because it makes her look "like Stephanie from Lazytown." (Note: this show is very passe around here. We haven't watched it in months, yet somehow Stephanie seems to have become the standard of beauty for these girls. Um, in case you haven't seen it, her hair is pink. Should I be concerned?)

Anyway, I think she looks adorable and I wanted to share. Enjoy! :)

We knew this already, but now it's official!

Katie is a Terrific Kid:


(Admittedly, this is not her best picture but it's the only one I took.)

Many years ago, when Katie was still a wee babe, I noticed a bumper sticker that said, "My child is a Terrific Kid at Blah-Blah School!" I turned to Chris and we both started to laugh at how silly and meaningless it was. "All that sticker tells you is that their kid isn't an honor student," Chris said. I heartily agreed.

Fast forward to mid November of this year (I'm a little behind on posts), and I opened a notice from Franklin saying that Katie has been chosen as a "Terrific Kid" for the month, and that we were invited to a little ceremony to honor her and the other students chosen. Guess we were wrong, it isn't completely meaningless after all!

Katie was very excited about the whole thing, and very, very proud. She paid very special attention to how she was behaving because she wanted to be a good representative of what a Terrific Kid should be. It was adorable to watch her.

So we went to the ceremony, where a child from each homeroom gave a short speech to show how they embody the "value of the month" (respect, in this case.) Katie began her speech by reciting the definition of "respect," and thus her future rhetoric style was begun.

And now I am going to be cynical. This was a big deal for Katie. She took it very seriously, and was sincerely honored to have been chosen. We were (are) very proud of her; honestly, the girl absolutely deserved it! But I realized the rub right away, and it only took Katie a month to see it for herself. A "terrific kid" is chosen from EVERY homeroom EVERY month. That means that out of 20 kids in a homeroom, almost half of them will be named a Terrific Kid by the end of the year. Seriously, if you can't score at least one TK award in your elementary school years you have to actually work at being a loser.

In the words of the Incredibles, "If everyone is special, that means that no-one is special."

Today, Katie came home very perturbed because one of the boys chosen as this month's TK pushed her down on the playground. She can't understand why he was chosen, when his actions have often showed a complete disrespect for "the value of the month." So now Katie is in the uncomfortable position of suspecting that her "reward" doesn't mean as much as she thought it did. She's starting, and this is what makes me angry, to feel that she was foolish to be so proud of showing the "value of respect," because she now suspects that the powers-that-be don't actually care about rewarding the most virtuous (and here's another sticky point, of course - they aren't rewarding virtue. They don't even officially recognize virtue. It's all about "values," whatever ideals happen to be in vogue at this minute. Who the hell decides what a "value" is anyway? Isn't it by definition subjective? I value chocolate-loving, but no-one has yet to offer me a reward for my natural predilection, nor should they. What is inspiring is that by which we rise above our natural tendencies, not some watered-down hooey that claims we should be "good people" without having the guts to explain what makes a person "good.")

So, here we are. Katie is still proud of her award but in a muted, confused sort of way. I've put the bumper sticker up on the fridge, because I am proud of what a great daughter, student and sister Katie is. But I will not affix it to my bumper, because I refuse to give in to this herd mentality. My child is special, and maybe some people might think that makes their kids less special but they couldn't be more wrong. It just means that they haven't taken the time to figure what extraordinary tidbits are lurking in their own children.