A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

Thank you to my in-laws, who emailed this to me. It is one of my favorite pictures, ever.

Abbie-isms

I'm just glad this didn't turn into a why-does-he-have-that-thing discussion:
We were taking a walk with the dog on Tuesday when he stopped to use the bathroom. He stops more often than I would wish, and as I sighed Abbie, from the front of the stroller, piped up, "He's just making water, not poopie. I can tell because of his position."

It's good to know she isn't pining away whenever we're apart:
Yesterday, I took the younger two girls up to my in-laws before going in to volunteer in Claire's classroom. As we were on our way, Abbie said, "Mommy, are you going to just drop us off?"

Yes, I said.

"Do you know what dropping off means?" she said.

I knew that this was weighted somehow, so I replied that I wasn't sure. What does it mean?

"It means" she replied, in that forceful way she has, "that when we get there you open the car door, you wait until we are far enough way to not get runned over, and then you drive away."

Silence again....

This time, I haven't been updating because Lucy somehow pried the T and the I keys off of my laptop, and I can't figure out how to get them back in. Do you know how many Ts and Is were in that last sentence??? Too many.

This is absolutely true!

http://thelobers.com/?p=620

Ha! You beat me to it, Vanessa!

Ah is tired

We had a busy morning and afternoon today. Abbie and Lucy were very well behaved as we ran from store to store to place to place, and I promised them that when we got home, I would let them watch one of the DVDs we got at the library this morning.

So we went home, and after lunch I settled them into my bedroom and put the DVD on. Then I switched out the laundry, which took about ten minutes. When I popped my head back in to make sure they were settled, I thanked my instincts because Lucy was nowhere to be found. No, she was in my bathroom, sitting happily in the tub which she had just half-filled with water. She was fully dressed.

As I stood in the doorway in silence, because of the shock, she looked pertly up at me and said, "Ah wash, Mommy."

There is nothing this kid can't or won't get into.

I miss naps.

Fun with Popery

One of the fun things about being raised Catholic is the opportunity it gives you to find some really twisted takes on life.

Case in point: My mom had a minor eye surgery this morning, and my sister called me later to let me know that she was out and on her way home.

"How does she look?" I asked.

There was a pause. Then Rachel said:

"You know those Mary statues that weep blood? She looks like that."

I immediately knew exactly what she meant, and if you grew up reading "The Wanderer" and stockpiling bottled water and blessed holy candles, you know exactly what she meant, too.

We may have been laughing, Mom, but at least you can be sure that we are praying as well.

How could I fail to have an awesome Mother's Day when this kind of thing is going on?

I love the cheesiness of holidays with little kids! Katie, this morning, gave me a coupon good for complaint-free showers from now until May 30th. (Yes, all her coupons came with very strict time parameters.) Claire gave me a card that said, "I like to klen with you!" Beth gave me a personalized plate she made in school, complete with home-made wrapping paper and a card signed, "love, your loving daughter Beth."

It is just all so much fun.

The best was the little song they made up and performed after dinner, and it was awesome enough that I've decided to figure out how to post videos on here. So here goes, I hope it works. If it does, enjoy! I sure did.

Dufflepud

Yeah, okay, she should technically only have one foot. Still, Dufflepud was what immediately came to mind when she hopped down the stairs like this.

On typos

I've noticed that I've been making a ton of typos and various other errors on here.

Sorry about that.

It's just that I am almost never typing this stuff out in an environment of peace and quiet. My situation is closer to that of those army guys who have to talk over those telephone-things during battles -- there are loud screams and flying debris, and I often am forced to change positions to a more secure area mid-sentence.

In fact, as I am typing this out now, Lucy is pretending that the floor is water, and every few seconds I have to stop and rescue her. Except for just now, when I had to stop because she was about to hit Abbie in the head with a drum stick.

The dog whines, the kids yell and whirl around and ask me impossible things, like can they eat a bowl of cereal in my bed? Well, why not?

So if I'm not always coherent, I apologize. Someday I may look around this living room and miss the chaos, but right now I'm just trying to document it as best as I can while shielding my head from a flying Goodnight Moon.

Pleas and Praise

First of all, I'd like to make a plea: if anyone has any pictures of Beth's communion, could you please email them to me? Our camera, due to stupidity on my part, ran out of batteries early on, so I only actually have three decent pictures from the day.

Now on to detail the fun part:

This past weekend was lots of fun.

My wonderful Mother-in-Law took the human wrecking crew (I mean, Abbie and Lucy) off of my hands so that I could feverishly clean the flu-ravaged house from top to bottom. Cleaning when no-one is interrupting you is fun! This ended up being not only convenient but life-saving as well, as my dishwasher broke yet again.

No! It didn't! Oh, yes. It did. About three hours before my family came in.

My mom, sister, sister's boyfriend, and three of my younger cousins all made the trek up to celebrate with Beth, and we were so glad they did.

Between the ever-present flu and frugality concerns, we haven't been out and about much this winter and spring, so it was doubly-fun for us to visit our local roller-skating rink while the cousins were visiting. The high adult-to-child ratio also helped, because my kids are not exceptionally coordinated.

I will say, though, that taking a 4 year old to the bathroom while the both of you are wearing roller skates......not easy. Not easy at all.

We also made an appearance at my parish's Hibernian Tea, which was oh-so-awesome. I have to admit that, deep down, I have a real love for kitsch and the Hibernian Tea delivered on many levels. Plus they had an insane amount of food there. I especially loved the very Irish madeleines and bagels with cream cheese. Food was served on actual china, and every table had two adorable tea-pots filled with hot water, and an assortment of teas. It was just super-cool, and it was fun for me to do something like this with extended family.

My childhood was spent going to things like this - parish fish fries, spaghetti dinners, those awesome and terrifying peirogi ladies, always in the company of a large and loud mob of family, and I've missed it. At one point, I looked over at Katie, who was running back and forth from the table to the buffet with Sara, delivering food and drinks, and it reminded me so strongly of my childhood that I couldn't help but smile.

It's good to have these kind of memories, and even better to watch my kids build more.

Beth's First Communion

Beth made her First Communion last weekend!
She was very nervous about the technicalities - where to stand, where to walk, etc., but as these things always go, once she was there it was all perfectly easy.

There was a moment earlier in the day when Beth and I were talking about things and I said, "when the bell rings, do you realize that Jesus will actually be there, in the church, and He will be there just for you?"

As I said it, she looked at me with shining eyes and the weight and wonder of it all sank into my own heart as well. There are so many things in life that too easily become afterthoughts - or things you do or encounter with no thought at all. I'm grateful for moments like this, when the whole church is filled with people who have come together specifically because it is such a Big Deal. It's not just a rite of passage, it is, as our Pastor quoted from St. Therese, "The first sweet kiss of Jesus."

Wow.

God Bless you, my crazy little Beth. I hope the awe and excitement of this day stays with you always.

Good Boy!

For once in his life, Jasper was actually helpful!

I needed to aerate the ground a little bit near where I plan to plant some veggies tomorrow, so I grabbed a shovel while I was outside with Jasper. To my amazement, Jasper made my chore at least ten times easier. I would just point the shovel at the spot I wanted dug up, and Jasper was more than willing to oblige. I felt like Timmy with Lassie!

Anything more refined, such as weeding - or any activity, really, that doesn't require the whole area to just be tossed joyfully in the air, would be out of his range. However, if you need some land dug up, this dog's for hire!

I am tired and weary and, dude, I just can't make myself care about it

Abbie and I had some issues when it was time to get dressed this morning. Today was the only day I have to go food shopping in preparation for Beth's First Communion, and we needed to get a move on.

The first pair of pants caused an outpouring of tears because, "the button was plumpy."
On shirt was rejected because it was "too sleevish, and too greenish."

This is what we finally settled on. Sometimes it's better to just count your blessings, and just be grateful to get the kid fully dressed.

You have got to be kidding me....

This is what I get with the fifth kid? When we are all exhausted and broken down from the other four? Lord, have mercy.



(In case you can't tell, what Lucy has done here is climbed up onto the sink, perched precariously on the edge, and ransacked the medicine cabinet in search on.... cough drops. I didn't even know there were cough drops in there, how did she???)

It is incredibly fun to have a nephew

Happy Birthday Gabe! Could this kid be any cuter???

New Template

I decided to change things around, just a little bit.

Chris isn't here, Lucy is sick and I've been stuck here on the couch (cuddling poor Lucy) all day, in case you're wondering why I've posted ten times more today than I have all year.

Abbie, inventor of the today's most creative, and bizarre, heresies

So this happened during Lent, but I am just now getting around to telling you. It's worth the wait.

Abbie was in the kitchen, eating her second breakfast. (Abbie and Lucy think they are hobbits.)

The day previous, we had discussed Good Friday - what happened to Jesus, and what we would be doing in church on that day. I guess she had enough time to marinate the knowledge because she suddenly turned to me and said, "People wonder why Jesus is on that cross."

I said, "Some people might."

"Yeah," she continued, "So they can just ask Jesus, 'Hey! Why are you up there on that cross?' And he tells them, 'Well, this is where I died, so now I'm stuck up here.' "

This morning....

Chris went to work.

Eight months ago, he was laid off after the company he worked for lost their financing.

Has it really been 8 months? Whoa.

Last September, I thought that when he found a new job we would have a big celebration: a fancy dinner, or at the very least popping open that one bottle of expensive wine we bought to see what all the hype is. The thing now, though, is that the road to this job has progressed much like a slug going across a sidewalk. You think it's moving along because you can see a trail of slime, but it's hard tell for sure. The company Chris is now working for has been in talks with him since the very beginning, eight months ago. At one point, it was looking almost certain that they would offer Chris something......in Maine. Which would have meant at least a year of living apart.

But now here we are, finally. He has a job! And we don't have to move! But the road here has been so long and stressful that we just don't have the energy to celebrate.

The fact remains, however, that we made it through. So although we feel a little battered and bruised, I still have to look out the window at all the budding flowers and those awesome trees and join them in a little prayer of thanks.

God is good. Not because He's brought us to an end of this particular trial, but because He brought us through it.

My soul, find peace in God alone,

for he gives me strength to endure.

It is he who is my God and my safeguard,

my stronghold: I shall never be shaken.

Prayer Request

During Abbie's brain-tumor ordeal, I really, truly felt that all the prayers said in our behalf were what kept us going. Well, now I am hoping to harness some of that same power for a lady I have known... forever? At least since I was pretty young. Her name is Patty and she is just one of those people who are super-cool: gorgeous, funny, warm-hearted and just plain interesting. And she's just received some very bad news. Here's the request that I have sent out through email and through one of my favorite blogs:

A longtime friend of my mom's, Patty G., has just been diagnosed with stage IV cancer in her lungs. It has spread to other parts of her body as well, but I'm not clear on the details.

Some years ago, Patty and her husband adopted a little boy who had come into their lives and was in need of stability and love. They were, I believe, already in their 60s at the time (or close to) but they fell in love with this little boy and couldn't turn their backs on him. The boy is now only 11, and Patty means the world to him. Please pray for healing, and that this family can be showered with grace. Thanks!

You know you're officially old when....

Getting carded just amuses you instead of making you angry.

Yeah, I still get carded from time to time, but it doesn't go to my head because I know full well that "young looking" does not equal "good looking." Heh.

So, Rach, the next time you harass me about dying the grey streak in my hair remember this. It's funny when I'm by myself, but to walk into a place with five kids, all calling me "Mommy" and have the people there think I might be under 21? Not so funny.

It's good to be two

Lucy just had her 2nd birthday. It was pretty low-key, mostly because we've learned from experience that action-packed days are not conducive to happy toddlers.

I've got to say, though, that I think Lucy's birthday was calibrated just right. I don't think she ever really got what this birthday thing was about (sometimes she'd jump and twirl and sing out, "It's my birthday!" and sometimes she would burst into tears if anyone mentioned the b-word and yell, "No birthday!") But she fully enjoyed all the attention and pampering lavished on her by her sisters, and just generally had a great day. What really made the day for her, though, was Dora.

Yeah, Dora the Explorer.

Let me first explain that this kid is obsessed with Dora. We've had some Dora-focused kids before (notably Claire, the sister Lucy seems to parallel the most) but Lucy takes it to a whole new level. She wakes up asking for Boots, she has watched our Dora Christmas Special DVD more times than any of us can stand: in short, the only 30 minutes that I can count on for peace with this kid is when Dora makes her morning appearance on the t.v. She could care less about almost every other show, but she really loves Dora.

So. We took the kids to a big park for the afternoon. It was a nice day, miraculously not too packed with kids, and we all had a good time. The last 20 minutes before we left were pure heaven for Lucy, though.

At first we didn't get what was going on. I didn't see it begin: what I know comes from Chris. He said that he couldn't tell what Lucy was saying, but he saw her babbling intently at some little girl, and then he heard her say, "Dora?"

And then he almost choked when he realized. This little girl was Hispanic. With dark brown hair. And big, shiny eyes. And a huge, bright smile. Wearing a solid pink shirt. And blue shorts.

The kid had no idea what Lucy was saying, but she seemed to get a kick out of this little baby who clearly thought the world of her. So she just smiled a big, cartoony smile as Lucy asked her, "Dora?" And the little girl said brightly, "Okay! Hi!" and then ran off.

Chris said that Lucy's face was just glowing. She took off after the little girl with all the speed she could muster, and for the remainder of our stay she was completely focused on this kid. The little girl was very sweet - she noticed that Lucy had taken a shine to her and so she would stop playing occasionally to peek out at Lucy, and giggle at her.

Lucy was truly in heaven. As far as she is concerned, Dora the Explorer materialized out of thin air specifically to play with her on her birthday. We couldn't have possibly planned anything more perfect. I came upon the scene in time to see Lucy chattering delightedly as the little girl stopped to tie her shoes. When Claire tried to join her little chat, she pushed her away and said, "My Dora!"* The anonymous little girl just laughed again and smiled at Lucy.

So, Happy Birthday Lucy! How lucky for us that it was so easy to make all your dreams come true!

(The picture at the top is my furtive attempt at getting a picture of the anonymous girl. She's the one on the swings in the pink shirt. It's not a clear shot, but it's the only one I took, seeing as it's kind of frowned upon to take pictures of random kids at the park. But I wanted to try, because this is one of those things that you just know will be a family legend. Chris has already sworn that he will most likely spend his deathbed moments remembering Lucy's face when the girl said, "Okay!")

*Yeah, okay, it doesn't say great things about Lucy that she reacted to meeting her hero by shoving everyone else away. I know, I know. We're working on toning down her, um, forceful personality. I promise.

Easter

I hope that everybody had a good Easter this year! We spent a great day hanging out with the Lobers, something we haven't done in almost forever, and of course ate lots and lots of sweets to make up for lost time.

Here are just a few pics. Katie claims that it was way too easy to find her basket this year. I hope she's ready, because the Easter Bunny takes challenges like that seriously. Very seriously.

Lucy on her birthday

Um, she doesn't exactly like posing for pictures, so this is the best I could do.

Say what?

I was mixing up dough in my stand mixer this morning when Abbie came into the kitchen and said, "It sounds like a bunch of girls being attacked by frogs in here."

Apocolypse???

We had a crazy hail storm this evening! It had been a gorgeous day: the girls spent most of the afternoon running around outside and enjoying the sunshine. Imagine our surprise when shortly after dinner the sun suddenly darkened and the sky quite literally opened up.

It sounded like we were being attacked by gumballs. I've never seen anything like it. One minute the weather was clear and the next minute we could barely see out the windows due to all the hail. We had to crate Jasper because I was afraid that he was going to crash out the window, he was that frantic.

So anyway, here are the pictures. Remember that for most of today it's been around 70 degrees! The storm lasted for maybe five minutes, and at the end of it our yard was white. I was about ready to break out the blessed candles! (3 Days of Darkness paranoia, anyone?)

Yeah for me!

A friend of mine just had a baby (and by just, I mean the baby was born in February and I just now remembered to take her a meal) so I decided to try out a neat little trick with cupcakes that another friend recently showed me, and take the family the results.

I took a cake decorating class last month and I really loved it. The problem is that practice makes perfect but there are only so many cakes one can make, especially when one has given up desserts for Lent. So my skills are not exactly at the pro-level, but I have to say that I'm proud of what I made today. Here it is, a cupcake bouquet:


My results did not look as good as my friends, but I think the family I gave them to liked it. Really, though, my main goal is mostly just to impress the girls and I think I've got that locked up.

I love my Mom! (Despite potential evidence to the contrary...)

I am, without (much) shame going to lay the blame on the five parasites...er, children, for whom I've shed every last remaining cell in my brain.

What happened? Well, in a nutshell, this: I met my mom, my aunt, and my Arizona cousin Katie in Gettysburg for the afternoon. Katie is a professed history geek and is spending a few days enjoying a stroll through the Civil War, and since she makes a wonderful (and cheap) tour guide, my mom and aunt and I met up with her to take advantage.

So I spent almost the entire day with my mom yesterday. It was a great day, it was great to see my cousin again, the museum in Gettysburg is way better than it was the last time I went, and I enjoyed spending time with my mom and my aunt. For the record, I knew without a doubt that my mom's birthday was coming up: I had prepared a cake for her, and I told all the girls to make her cards. I knew her birthday was the 16th, I knew it was right around St. Patrick's Day.........I just didn't realize that all these things had coalesced at that very moment.

Uh, in other words, I forgot that yesterday was my mom's birthday. You know, the woman who is responsible for my existence and all.

Yeah...

So, Happy Birthday Mom! I hope the cake still counts even though I made it thinking that I was - for once - ahead of the curve. I love you very much! And I hope nobody holds it against you that you have such a very stupid daughter.

A question for Cesar...

How is it that the dog who does this:

And this:

Can also sit in the kitchen for half an hour doing this:

Mr. Mom

I volunteered at the girls' school this afternoon, and when we returned home I could tell that something was up.

The hallway floor was covered in flecks of styrofoam.
The loaf of bread that had been uneaten when I left this afternoon was now just a chunk, laying half-flattened on the stovetop. I could see teeth marks all over the crust.
My bed was covered in both styrofoam flecks and bread crumbs. The kicker was when I saw that Lucy was wearing summer pajamas. As she tried to plunge a toilet.

Chris, it seemed, had quite a busy afternoon. I've had times like this myself, but even though I totally sympathized, it couldn't stop me from doing something unforgivable. As Chris began to explain the time line of destruction, I giggled. Then I gathered all my powers of control and listened compassionately.

Until I giggled again.

I couldn't help it! He described the mayhem :Lucy demanded snack after snack for the first 30 min, then she toppled off of the kitchen chair forcing Chris to lunge and save her. Then she had a horrific and messy dirty diaper. He needed a breather, so he let her take half a piece of bread into our bedroom (a big no-no for me ) only to discover after 20 min that she had helped herself to the entire loaf and shredded it all over our bedroom. She had also gone into our closet and found a picture frame wrapped in Styrofoam peanuts, which she happily tore into less manageable pieces and flung around. Chris' twenty minutes of peace came at a high price. So he spent the next twenty minutes vacuuming up, because - as he stated it, "Even I didn't feel right letting you come home to that." After calming Lucy down and getting her settled in front of our bedroom tv, he foolishly returned to his videogame in the basement. Naturally, Lucy then went into the kitchen, crawled up on the table and dumped a few cups of milk onto the floor (as well as herself.) How the plunger worked into any of this is anybody's guess.

I kissed Chris, gave him a hug, and agreed that he had a terrible afternoon, one that would have left me in tears.

And then I laughed and laughed.

Light of my eyes

Things have been kind of bumpy around here for a while. For a variety of reasons that I'm going to keep vague we have been very stressed, this week in particular. Sometimes, though, a little chink of light will cut through, and sometimes a little chink is all you need.

After school today, Claire sat in the kitchen and read Hop on Pop to me while I made dinner. On her own. I had to give her little prompts now and then, but that kid sat on her stool and read the entire thing out loud (and for a first "real" book, it's pretty darn long!) I was so proud of her I almost cried.

Claire has struggled more in learning to read than the older two girls did. She doesn't memorize well, so her sight words have been a chore and some days it seemed like letter sounds were never going to stick in that little brain. She was so determined, though. She set her shining blue eyes on this goal - wanting to be a big girl, wanting to read like her sisters, wanting to make us proud - and now here she is, a book propped on her lap and victory in her hands.

I love this kid! And I am so proud of her! Little Larry. That's what she'll always be to me. But just watch how she grows.

sorry for the long silence (again)

Life is good, life is good, life is good. But sometimes it's stressful, too.

I'll update more when my head stops spinning.

How a houseful of girls spend their Saturday morning

Playing videogames (Lego StarWars, to be exact) and watching this video over and over again because it is so cool:

Return of the Children

Update on the The Hollow's Black Plague:

Beth needed to return home yesterday, due to a fever.
The rest of the kids came back this afternoon, Abbie and Lucy both having developed fevers overnight. My poor Mother-in-Law was up all night with Lucy, as I understand it.

Man, I hope they don't end up with fevers themselves.

However, both Chris and I are on the mend: Chris still has a wicked cough, but he's gone all morning and afternoon without his temp spiking again, and my back is definitely on the mend. I can walk around almost normally now, and pick Lucy up without stabbing pain. So here's hoping things continue to get better!

And, wow, am I glad we had those two days to decompress and recover ourselves. This week is looking like a hectic one!

Chris had a terrible day yesterday

My back is still out. I am completely useless, and Chris has had one heck of an intro into Mr. Mom-hood.

He has been keeping up with the lunches, school-papers etc. fairly well, but things began to get hairy when Beth came home with a fever on Wednesday. Then, on Thursday, both Claire and Chris woke up with fevers. Homework was piled up, projects were in dire need of being completed, Chris felt like garbage, and I couldn't do much more than occasionally limp through the kitchen.

In one day, Lucy made a gigantic mess in the kitchen, which is pretty standard but before that was cleaned up, Abbie had a huge accident in the bathroom. Abbie is four years old now, and hasn't had an accident in.........I can't even remember when. Then Jasper had an accident in the kitchen. We haven't had issues like that with him since he was a few weeks old. Claire was croupy and whiny, Abbie kept bursting into tears, Lucy was a whirlwind of terror, and Chris was getting hot flashes from his fever.

I was in bed, reading a book.

Thank God for my in-laws, who swooped in here and took the girls today, giving Chris a chance to catch up on sleep. (They also miraculously managed to fix our mail box, do the laundry, clean the kitchen and the bathroom in the time it took for Chris to take me to the chiropractor and back!)

I think Chris was one incident away from turning green and crashing through a wall to run off into the sunset, so I am so, so, so grateful that his parents were here and able to save us!

I feel guilty that Chris had such a terrible time, having to handle that all on his own.
But I am laughing just a teeny little bit, too.

Always darkest just before dawn....

I'm going to do something I've never done on here before. I don't consider this a "real" blog, because I've never had any intentions for this site other than keeping family and the odd friend updated on our lives.

I'm just so touched by this, though, that I'm going to reference another (very Real) blog. We here have been going through our own tough times (and since you're all family I know I don't need to explain what that is) and it is so easy to fall prey to what this article calls "the big lie." There are some people very dear to me, as well, who are going through tough times, and it's hard not to get a little angry at God and think, like St. Theresa(I believe), "If this is how You treat your friends, no wonder you have so many enemies."

This puts it all in perspective, though.

I'm not 100% up on blog etiquette, so I'm just going to link the article directly. This was written by Michael Dubruiel, a wonderful Catholic writer, who was married to Amy Welborn, another wonderful Catholic writer. Michael died unexpectedly this week, and this is his last column.

Please take a moment to read the article, and pray for the Dubriel family.

Time to put down the old horse

I took a walk yesterday with my dog.

This shouldn't have been a catastrophic event.

But it was. The path was very icy, so I decided to take Jasper to a field and play catch for a while to burn off some energy, in the hopes that he would pull less on the leash once we began our walk in earnest. So we played catch some, and it was fun. For a treat, because it is Jasper's very favorite thing, I chased him around the field some and then let him chase me. I don't even know what happened, but one minute I was laughing and running away from the dog and the next minute found me doubled over, feeling as though my back had just collapsed like a demolished building, wondering if I was going to be able to make it to the car.

If I were a horse, I'd totally be simmering in the glue factory by now.

If there is one thing I grateful for, though, it's this: I'm so glad the dishwasher is working!!!

DISHWASHER RESSURECTION!!!!!

Cue the choirs of angels and rays of light from heaven!

My dishes will be cleaned tonight while I sleep, without the girls and I having to do a thing to them. And I will feel better in the morning about the level of germiness in Lucy's bottle.

And this was all accomplished without the need to make any purchases at all. Just a man with a bag full of......magic things, I guess.

I have the best Father-in-law in the world! Thank you!

Crazy Abbie in public

We took the girls to the Science Center today, in honor of Claire's birthday. We had a great time, but as always happens we hit a point where suddenly all five girls needed to get to the bathroom immediately.

So we all file in, and although Abbie was the first one in a stall she was the last to come out. As we were standing against the wall of the fairly crowded bathroom, waiting, the sound of singing began to come from one of the stalls. It was Abbie, and this is what she was singing:

Dear Father, I write you
in spite of years of silence
You've cleaned up, found Jesus
Things are good or so I've heard
This bottle of Stevens awakens ancient feelings
Like father, stepfather, the son is drowning in the flood!!

Yeah, Abbie was singing some Weezer in the public bathroom. I don't know whether I should be ashamed of what bad parents we are, that we let her listen to stuff like that, or if I should be proud that my kids clearly know good music from garbage.

In any case, the people in the bathroom enjoyed the show.

Dishwasher Armageddon, Day 6

This is what my sink looks like by 7pm every night:

We? Are awesome!

Dishwasher Armageddon, Day 5

When I first had to tackle the dirty contents of our broken dishwasher, I experienced a moment of true despair. I actually procrastinated a full day before finally plunging my hands in.

We're on day 4 of the Armageddon, though, and the truth is....it's not all that bad.

I've found that it is best to just keep one half of the sink full of hot soapy water, and wash everything immediately. I am probably still spending a huge amount of time bending over the sink, but because it is in such small increments over the course of the day, it doesn't feel that way. The surprising thing too is that the kitchen has actually been staying more tidy, because I'm not leaving anything "for later."

I had planned on escalating the melodrama as the Armageddon continues, and I still might just because I think it is funny. If I'm completely honest, though, I have to admit.......

Now, don't repeat this, okay? Lean in close, I don't want to say this too loud, but....

I think I can live like this. I actually don't mind it all that much.

Is there something wrong with me? Is this normal? I guess if it is instigating a cleaner kitchen I should just accept it and not look too deep into the reasons why. But don't tell anyone I said so.

Abbie, still crazy

We let the girls stay up late last night, and we all watched the auditions on American Idol together. When it was time for bed, Chris told the girls, who had strewn their various toys and blankets all over the basement, "pack it up and head upstairs!"

Abbie looked over at him and said, "Why? Are we going to Hollywood?"

A birthday for Larry

Happy birthday to the most enthusiastic kid going!

Despite the fact that Claire's favorite food has consistently been the kid-standard pizza, nuggets and mac and cheese, the birthday girl insisted that for her dinner she wanted.....salmon and corn. Now, salmon is an actual, honest-to-goodness favorite of one of our kids....but it isn't Claire's. She genuinely likes some "grown-up" foods, like sushi and shrimp, but she refused to even consider those; it just had to be salmon and corn, of all random things.

Sometimes this kid just weirds out, and I have no idea how to handle it.

So, after a very stressful afternoon, Chris came home and whipped up some salmon for Claire (Chris is the fish pro around here, another reason we tried to convince Claire to pick something else, something I could cook without screwing up.) Claire, of course, only ended up eating about three bites. As we knew she would, because she doesn't really like salmon.

Luckily she picked a birthday dessert that she actually wanted, so that she didn't end her birthday with an empty stomach. She still has occasional texture issues, so it was just a huge old ice-cream sundae for her. We made cupcakes for her kindergarten class, but she didn't want any cake at home. Given the fact that she's still just as likely to puke up cake as not, I think it was for the best.

So, happy birthday little one! You keep me on my toes, but I wouldn't have it any other way!

Dishwasher Armageddon, Day 3

Claire claims that even though it is her birthday, she still wants to help clean the dishes tonight!

We'll see!

Dishwasher Armageddon, Day 2.5

I am recording this for legal purposes. This is a direct quote from the girls," Washing dishes is fun! I hope we get to do this every night!"

Let's see how that fares a few more days into the Armageddon.

Meanwhile, while the rest of the family was gainfully employed, what do you think Lucy was doing?

Don't congratulate me yet for having it easy....

Lucy decided to re-enact that scene from Mary Poppins....you know, the one where the kids gets completely filthy and spend some time rolling around in soot.

The good news is that the cheap-o vacuum we bought to replace our broken one works pretty well.

Chris thinks that it was a bad idea to take these pictures. He says that I am just encouraging Lucy to grow into more of a monster. But when you're living room is covered (and I mean covered - these pictures do no real justice) in soot you have two options: kill the kid, or laugh.

So out came the camera. And Lucy survives to dominate another day.

Dishwasher Armageddon, Day 2

My Dearest Maw,

It is cold here. The snow is falling thick and fast outside, and there is little movement in the road. We have a cheerful fire roaring in the living room, but I cain' leave my post. In times like these, what does a woman have if she has not her honor? And so at the sink I remain. There is some warmth in the sudsy waters, and for this I am thankful. I will take my blessings where 'ere they come, and pray to the Almighty that these hostilities may soon cease. I think of you often, and remember with longing the days when my fingers where not quite so raw, nor the terrible piles of dishes so high.

Give my love to Sister.
I remain,
Faithfully,
Rebecca Elizabeth

check out my poll on the right!

Be sure to vote before I have the chain fully forged!

Only Lucy

How messed up is it when you have to haul your kid out of mass because she won't stop screaming.....

..."I want Jesus!"

A girl and her dog

This picture is old now, taken last summer. One of the subjects has grown a bit and one has grown a shocking amount since then, but I think this picture best sums up the relationship between Lucy and her beloved sibling, Jasper the dog. Notice how happy they both are: Lucy as she torments Jasper, Jasper as he hopes to score something good. They are a match made in heaven.

About a week ago I ushered the girls, who had been playing in their rooms, to the basement so that I could put Lucy down for a nap. This is a more chaotic transition than you might imagine, because it involves getting them all through the kitchen - past a baby gate and through a door while trying to keep the frantic dog from escaping. So there was, as there always is, lots of yelling and toppling over and mob-type frenzies. Once the girls had been successfully relocated, though, I realized that Lucy had escaped (as I thought) into the basement. And then - crap! - I noticed that the dog was missing.

I ran upstairs first, thinking that the dog might have pushed past the girls unnoticed while they filed by the gate. The top floor was dead silent, though, so I didn't bother checking it much. The one thing I can count on is Jasper causing a ruckus any time he manages to get to some part of the house that has lots of forbidden things to chew. I ran down to the basement, but the girls hadn't seen him there, so I checked the unfinished section. He wasn't there. At this point, I was getting concerned- there are only so many places a dog can go, and I was running out of ideas. I checked outside, although I knew he hadn't been let out. I re-checked the top floor, looking into every room and even the closets. He wasn't there.

I came back down to the kitchen, looking again under the table and behind the chairs, knowing he wasn't there. The house felt eerie and quiet without his dog-noises in the background. The girls were helping now, too, their eyes big and beginning to fill with tears. We were starting to worry that he had escaped outside somehow, and the busy road outside makes that a much bigger problem than it might sound like.

I stood in the kitchen and surveyed the adjoining hallway, all the doors tightly shut as they always are to keep the dog from chewing up the blankets, the clothes, the rugs.....our dog really likes to chew. The girls were all gathered around me, concerned, but I wasn't paying them much attention. I was worried about the dog. I began to look into the closed rooms, not expecting anything but at a loss for what else to do. The guestroom was empty and quiet. The bathroom was, too. I looked into my bedroom, and it was also empty. But as I was about to close the door I heard a dull thump, and it made me pause for a second. I went past the bed and opened the door to the bathroom.

Standing square in the middle of the room was none other than Lucy, with her arm draped casually around Jasper's neck as he tore into a roll of toilet paper. She looked up at me and grinned and then said, breezily as you please, "Hi!" Opening doors is a brand-new trick of hers, and it appears that while I was occupied with the older girls she had quietly opened the door to my room and lured Jasper through into the bathroom. What seems incredible to me now is that my first thought was not to check on the whereabouts of Lucy, and assuming from the get-go that she was the culprit. Where else would Jasper be but at the side of his favorite companion, hoping for food or at the very least a chance to get to some forbidden treat?

I am going to be catching up on posts today....

...because yesterday my dishwasher broke. We've been under some funny kind of cloud the past few months: our computer died, then my laptop died (although that's what I'm on now, it suddenly resurrected out of the blue- about a week after we took the plunge and bought a new computer, of course), our microwave died, Chris' car broke down, his phone went dead, the mailbox door fell off, the fence in front of our house blew down, the Xbox blew up, the vacuum stopped sucking (or started sucking, depending on how you look at it,) our regular phone only works in three minute increments before needed to be recharged now, and my cell phone is acting very wonky. We can't fix any of this, either, because...well, because sometimes God likes to show you that it is possible to live much more simply than you're used to.

The dishwasher, though! *sob*

So I'm going to spend some time here, studiously ignoring the fact that my life is about to revolve around my kitchen sink, and the greasy things therein. And while I procrastinate, I am going to be saying to myself, over and over again, "People survived for thousands of years even though they had to wash all their dishes by hand. A dishwasher is not a necessity for life. Really. It can be done. It can be done. It can be done."

Dilemma

What to do when you are a native of Pittsburgh, living in Baltimore and married to an obsessive Ravens' fan?

The thing is, I watch football because my husband watches football. Growing up, in a house that was absolutely dominated by estrogen, I almost never laid eyes on a game. I have a vague memory of watching a Superbowl with my parents, where I was very excited to be allowed to eat dinner in the basement. Later in life, my stepfather would watch the games.......alone, and we would laugh whenever we'd hear him yelling at the t.v. I think I maybe watched a game at my aunt's house occasionally, but the truth is that I was there more for the food and company than anything else. I am a Pittsburgher, though, and the combination of black and gold never fails to stir something deep in my heart.

Now, though, in order to avoid becoming a football widow, I watch it all. the. time. I know the names of a few players on every single team, and I long ago committed to memory the fact that scoring is called a "touchdown", not a "goal," or a "hey, they got some points - how many points is a whatcha'ma callit, again?" I listen to PTI and SportsCenter, and know what to expect from those guys. (Mostly predictions that are almost always wrong, but why should that stop anybody from tuning in to their t.v. shows, radio programs and magazine columns to catch every precious - and almost always wrong- word that comes out of their constantly running mouths?) Chris cares deeply about football. Deeply. And because I love him, I care a little bit now, too. Granted, back in the day, I couldn't see why he was so elated to discover that football player who lived almost-next to us, but now I can think back and say, "Wow! Ed Reed was our neighbor! Pretty cool!"

All that is to say - when the stakes are high and the Steelers are playing the Ravens, who do I root for? Well, what sort of choice do I have, really? The biggest football nut that I've ever known happens to be married to me, happens to be the love of my life, and happens to be my best friend. I root for the Ravens. But the Pittsburgher in me (and there are some places that leave its mark in your soul, no matter where you go or what you do: Pittsburgh is without question one of those places) is sad that I have to make a choice.

So, now that the game is decided and it's all over: Go Steelers! And looking at the above picture made me homesick for the days when I would have been there, wearing something black and gold and munching on chips while laughing at whatever jokes were being thrown around. The funny thing is, though, that I wouldn't have cared so much about who won then; it's not the team I miss, it's the company.

Hi. Still alive, believe it or not

Our computer died in October. Two long months followed where our only access to the internet consisted of squinting down at Chris' iphone and cursing every five seconds whenever we inevitably hit a rogue link and had to waaaait for the page to load and then waaaait for it to re-load back onto the page we had never wanted to leave in the first place.

Our shiny (more or less) new (well, new to us) computer just arrived, though, and I feel like Moses staring down at the parted red sea. It seems like such a miracle, this whole information superhighway thing. How did we live without this? How am I supposed to find the time to do boring, mundane things like cleaning when I have all this power right at my fingertips. Wow. Hello world! It's good to be back.

It has been so long since the last update that I am just going give a quick review of the past few months:

* Jasper chewed a hole through the wall. Twice. Thanks to my wonderful father in law for coming down (on his birthday, no less) to fix it the first time. I'm very sorry that it didn't last.

* A terrible flu rampaged through the house. Christmas was almost cancelled.

* In the midst of her fever-induced delirium Abbie told Chris that, "The Steelers are evil! They don't like Santa, and they burn down churches where baby Jesus lives." That's a direct quote.

*Lucy has started to talk more coherently. We now know for certain when she wants us to "Go away!" and when she would like a bite of nourishment, please: "Eat!"

* Katie read the kid-version of "Marley and Me" and fell in love with Jasper for about two hours. Then jumped over the couch (which she was sitting on) and she went back to barely tolerating him.

* Beth's two front teeth were slightly wiggly, and she spent a solid week trying to loosen them more before finally insisting that Chris pull them out. After the first tug, as blood began to gush over her chin, he realized that it was really too soon. They had gone too far to stop, though, so Chris basically performed a minor surgery in our living room. Beth was just happy that she could finally sing All I want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth and really mean it.

*One week later, two more of Beth's teeth fell out without warning. She now looks like a 90 year old woman when she smiles.

*Claire came into our room the other night after having a nightmare. She snuck in too quietly, however, and all I heard was a tiny rustle as she stepped over some wrapping paper on the floor. I shot up in my bed and tried to see, but it was too dark. Claire froze. "Who is it?" I cried out, still half asleep, "Is someone there?" There was silence, but you know how you can just tell when someone is there? I woke up all the way, and called out again, "Is someone in here?" There was not a sound - not a single sound - but then suddenly a hand grabbed my arm.

I screamed. It was dark, and I was half asleep, and I was freaked out, okay. I know it's still pathetic, but.....I screamed. And then Claire screamed and burst into tears. You know all those horror movies with creepy kids sneaking around all over the place? That is just my everyday life around here.

I think that's enough for now. I'll put up some pictures later. Maybe. If I can figure out how to get to them (on my laptop, which is broken and can't connect to the internet) from here.

Katie brought her school journal home today

Here are my two favorite entries. This kid is the sweetest!

A role model for me is my Dad. My Dad is my role model because when I'm confused he shows me tricks to help me understand what I'm confused about. When I'm stressed and tired and sad my Dad shows me the bright side. Sometimes there is something a really want to accomplish and my Dad helps me get it done like my speech for an example. My Dad is always nice and never lets me feel left out. Dad is always doing nice things for us like I used to hate hamburgers but my Dad never gave up and now I love hamburgers. To me my Dad is the perfect role model.

Another one:

The greatest thing in my life is my family. I think my family is the greatest thing in my life because I can depend on them. My Mom always makes me dinner so I don't starve. My Dad makes sure I'm not confused with what I'm learning in school. My sisters always play with me. My dog (Jasper) makes me feel better just by his looks. I love my family.

Oh Dear.

What in the world am I supposed to do with this?

Oh, and the field trip?

Totally awesome! I think I ran my station fairly well. There was that one time when I screwed the fire up and and had to do my entire presentation while we were all weeping from the smoke, but once the kids and I staggered outside to get some fresh air we all recovered just fine.

What I can't decide is whether my favorite part of the day was when they brought out a gigantic vulture (named Upchuck. Here's some trivia for you: a vulture's first line of defense is to puke on whoever is threatening it.) and then left it hanging out on a branch mere inches from a cluster of rambunctious boys, or if it was when the guy in charge told the kids in my group that they couldn't sit because, "Indians aren't lazy like you!"

I can't wait to do this again in two years, when it is Beth's turn.

Places that really make me...

...long for the day when Lucy will be able to ask for a drink like a civilized person instead of calling all beverages, "juice," mispronouncing it, and so screeching at the top of her lungs, "JEW! JEEWW!!!" until I can plug her mouth shut with a sippy cup:





*Waiting in the exam room of our beloved pediatrician, Dr. Israel.


*The Communion line in Church

*Waiting in the parking lot across the street from the girls' school - which is also the parking lot for a Temple.

*Shopping at places where there are lots of people who dress like this:

One thing is for certain: we will not be visiting the Holocast Museum in DC anytime soon.

Field Trip Queen

Chris suddenly found himself with lots of free time on his hands this September, and I have been taking advantage of that by volunteering for everything possible at the girls' school. I'm making up for lost time over the past two years, when I couldn't really volunteer for anything due to a lack of available babysitters. (This is another great advantage - should Chris suddenly become bereft of his free time, I now have two wonderfully accommodating Grandparents at hand to help out!) Everybody knows that to really know what's going on in school, you have to be there, and it has bugged me to no end when that couldn't happen for me. Well, I'm there now and learning all sorts of interesting things.

This months is extra-intense, though, because I am going on not one, not two, but three field trips. The first was to a local farm with the kindergarten (lots of fun), the third will be to the aquarium with the second grade (I did that before with Katie, and am looking forward to it again with Beth.) The second one is tomorrow, and it is the doozy of the bunch. I'm not going to elaborate any more right now than to say that it is an Indian campground, and it is run by the most awesomely crazy person I've ever met. He's awesome. But truly crazy. I am running the "Legend and Fire" hut, I will be facing the fourth graders armed with puppets....and fire, and let me tell you: this is going to be an experience.

Stay tuned.

Spaghetti with chicken

Is there anything more gratifying than spending over two hours* cooking a dinner tailored specifically to your children's tastes and then watching your three year old hold her nose and gag when you serve it?

Humility: served daily in the Mlinek household.

*It should take 30 minutes. I was only able to do actual prep and cooking in five minute spurts, however, due to milk spills, garbage-dumping, homework emergencies, argument interventions, and toddlers determined to drink out of the dog's bowl. Whenever I make a truly time-intensive dinner I generally have to start it directly after breakfast.

We bring joy into the world

At least that is what I am going to assume, as no less than 4 individuals burst into laughter at the sight of the girls and me navigating hardware stores. We were, perhaps, not exactly in our element. But I'm going to assume those people were all just very joyful.

However, I'm excluding the cashier at WalMart who later literally yelled, "Oh, holy God!" when I affirmed that the girls were, in fact, all mine. That was a first for me, and I wasn't quite sure how to answer her. I think I just gave one of my standard replies, even though it didn't exactly match her remarks. (I said something like, "It's a lot of fun!" Lucy was sick to death of shopping and getting fussy and I was really off my guard: the cashier was going on and on about how terrible it must be, and I just couldn't think of anything better. ) I'm not exactly angry - she was just a stupid teenager running off at the mouth without thinking first - but I do wish it hadn't happened in front of Katie and Beth. They definitely noticed her horrified reaction.

It doesn't usually bother me when people express disapproval of our family size. I think I hit my breaking point somewhere after Claire, and I just don't care anymore. The funny thing is that I get fewer negative comments now, when we have five kids and I don't give a damn what anybody thinks, than I did when I only had three and was kinda sensitive. It did bother me to see the older girls so surprised, though. But only a little. We may be following a different drummer than much of the world, but you know what? I like our tune. It doesn't matter so much when some twit at the register doesn't get it. I was worried that Katie and Beth might be upset, but they weren't at all. They like our tune, too. What's ironic is that I feel like I've been trying to say with my life the exact same thing the cashier was saying. I'm not going to act like I've been successful, but I'm trying. The inflection is totally different, of course, but we're absolutely trying to say the exact same thing: Oh Holy God.

Ramblings

Lucy is 17 months old, an age that I have been waiting for, thinking about in the back of my mind, since her birth. This was Abbie's age when her tumor was diagnosed.

Abbie at 17 months
Lucy is absolutely healthy, and I have no (and have never had) any cause for concern. Brain tumors are not genetic. But I figured that I would breathe a sigh of relief anyway, once she'd passed that milestone without showing any worrying signs. And I do feel better, a bit relieved, but it has also been strange to watch her. I can't help but mentally compare the baby that Lucy is with the baby that Abbie was. I watch Lucy and I think - Lucy can do this, and Abbie couldn't. Abbie could say this, but Lucy doesn't need to.

This isn't to say that I am obsessing over this, or anything. I don't dwell much on Abbie's ordeal, or at least I make a conscious effort not to. This is the sort of thing that a person can get bogged down in forever, and I don't want that to happen. Abbie is healthy, and thriving, and hilariously quirky and I want to be able to fully appreciate her. If I can't let go of the past's hardships, I can't give the present's joys their due. I have four other daughters as well, all of whom have been fearfully and wonderfully made, and I want to fully appreciate them. As Mother Theresa said: The past is gone. The future is not yet here. We have only today. Let us begin. Sounds right to me.

Lucy at 17 months
I'm going to tell you about Thursday, however, and why this period has been a little...unsettling, I guess, is the best way to put it. I was cleaning Lucy up after her breakfast, and she was resisting me. There were little flakes of oatmeal stuck under chin, and to prevent me from reaching them Lucy craned her neck down, so that her chin touched her chest. I was simply in the moment, trying to clean up this psycho baby, when Lucy looked up at me with her chin still lowered. I'm not sure I can really even explain what happened. I was no longer in our house, looking down on stubborn little Lucy; I was standing in my townhouse looking down on Abbie, and thinking, "What in the world is wrong with this baby's neck?" It wasn't that I remembered the fear, and worry, and heartbreak of that time. For that split second, I was there, feeling it.

This lasted no more than a second. I shook myself, finished cleaning Lucy up and got the girls ready for school. I barely thought about it again that day. Chris took the younger girls up to visit his parents, so I had the morning free to run errands, and then I volunteered in Claire's class all afternoon. It was a good day.

That evening, Chris and I settled in to watch the VP debate. We're both feeling pretty bitter and jaded about politics these days, so we were mainly making snarky comments to each other, or expressing frustration with this non-answer, that smoke-screen. But when Biden began talking about losing his wife and daughter, and he choked up for a moment Chris turned to me, just in time to see me burst into tears. I cried through the rest of the debate. I couldn't even really tell you why.

So, there. I haven't bothered to even analyze why I wanted to put this on the blog. I know that I wanted to acknowledge, in some way, that - hey! - Lucy made it to 17 months and things are looking good. And I guess in some way, too, I'd like to say : We hope the worst is over, and everyone is doing really well. But, you know what? It was all really, really hard. Please don't stop praying for my family.

Chris' Masterful Mojitos + Rock Band=

More fun than you should probably have on a Tuesday night.

But, man! It was fun. I am telling you people, if you don't have Rock Band yet go get it! It's fun for the whole family, it's fun to force your guests to play along, and it is a fun, fun, fun way to remind yourself - after a day changing diapers, arguing with tiny people incapable of seeing reason, cleaning crumbs off of the floor - that yes you could have been a rockstar. You are a rockstar!

That's all. I just felt the need the share.

First fire of Fall!

How's that for alliteration?

There are two seasons that always find the Mlinek family obsessed with fire. We love our cozy, warm, crackling fireplace in the winter, and we go crazy over our (admittedly, very primitive) fire pit in the fall.

The fire department behind our house was holding a bluegrass festival last Friday and the day was cool and crisp, so we hauled some logs down the hill and roasted ourselves some hot dogs (and apples, and marshmallows) for dinner. The music from the festival was fun, although the girls really enjoyed the s'mores more. We'll do this quite a few times before it gets too cold, but last weekend was just magical. It was the first fire of the season, and just so much fun.

Roasted marshmallows and sandboxes, however, mix just as badly as you'd think they would:

Better late than never, right?

Here are the pics from the girls' first day of school.

So far, this year has been going well! I was the most concerned about my little Larry, but she has taken to kindergarten like a fish to water (or like herself to water!)

At one point during the summer, Claire came over to me and exclaimed (does she ever say anything that isn't an exclamation?) "I cannot wait to start school....well, except for the learning part."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, sums up nicely why I worried about this year.

Of all the girls, Claire definitely has the least amount of patience, and I was concerned that all that sitting-still and listening-to-directions stuff would be hard, hard, hard on this impulsive little thing. But she is so very happy to finally be a 'big girl,' to finally be in school like her sisters, that she's turned the full force of her energies into being the best kindergartner possible.

There's a lesson in here somewhere about channeling our talents (Claire=energy) into whatever tasks life gives to us, even if those tasks aren't exactly up our alleys. Lucy is crying upstairs, however (I should not have told my friend yesterday that she is a good sleeper. This is your fault, Monica, for goading me into saying it!!!) and I need to cut this short. Long story short - I'm pretty darn proud of Claire. She brings this intense little jolt of happiness into our lives that I am so grateful for. And she has layers of abilities that constantly surprise me. All of the girls do, but today I'm particularly lookin' at my brown-haired moppet, and that bright eyed little thing is making me smile.

A first for me

It has taken me almost 9 years and five children for this to happen, and it was every bit as unenjoyable as I imagined.

I had to call poison control.

Yes, you guessed which child occasioned it.

The funny thing is that earlier in the day I was talking to my mom on the phone, and mentioned that we have been spending most of our time outdoors because Lucy gets into less mischief there. Not ten minutes later I was desperately trying to pry a bright red berry out of her mouth. I did not succeed, and she swallowed it with a shudder.

The good news is that the berry was only a little bit poisonous. Lucy will hopefully wake up from her nap fully revived. The bad news, of course, is that I have no safe place in which to seek refuge from her tyranny. Oh Lord, please give me the grace to guide this child (relatively) safely through her childhood; well, that or a padded cell.

It must be nice to have no inhibitions

Abbie was playing in the kitchen while I was clearing the table after lunch. All of a sudden she stood up, headed for the bathroom, and declared, "This girl has got to poop!"

My back wasn't even turned

I made a major mistake this afternoon: I gave my full attention to the pan I was washing. I know, I know. I should have known better. I should have kept my head in the game. I should have bolted every cabinet in this joint closed before turning my face to the sink.



Here's what happened in the time it took me to wash one (small!) pan:

Flour. Everywhere. We've seen this before, haven't we? But now we have a dog. In the initial scuffle, Jasper's water bowl was up dumped, turning the flour on his paws and nose into glue.

I'm not even going to talk about the floor. The kicker, though, was that after I had scolded Lucy thoroughly, cleaned up the mess in the house, placed the remaining flour into a plastic bag and knotted it shut, and then taken the dog outside to beat the flour out of him as though he was a dusty carpet....after I had done all of these things, I came back into the house to find this:

She did it again.

As it turns out, pastry flour glues up just as easily as regular flour. I guess that's useful information to have. However, if you happen to be seized with a sudden desire to bake while at my house, be prepared to add an additional 20 minutes into your prep time to access the now heavily guarded flour. And pray for me.