Yesterday was Abbie's first full day of Kindergarten. She hadn't yet met her teacher, so I decided to walk her to the classroom door in case she was feeling nervous at the thought of spending the entire day in the care of some stranger. We got out of the car, and I took both Abbie's and Lucy's hand as we crossed the crosswalk. The moment we went through the school doors, however, Abbie quietly but purposefully pulled her hand out of mine.

My hands are in general considered pretty hot real estate among the girls. My guess is that the scarce supply (having, as so many mothers like to point out, only two hands) for so much demand has led to most of my kids continuing to have a positive outlook towards hand-holding. The only exception to this is Katie, who at almost 11 has every right to walk around unassisted. Even Beth, though, will still grab my hand if it's free and the other girls all routinely argue over who gets to hold my hand and who has to be the caboose.

So I looked down in some surprise at Abbie when she pulled away. She looked calmly back up at me and just said, "I can walk by myself."

We came to her classroom door, and she walked right in without saying goodbye. Her teacher, taking pity on me as I stood in the doorway, pathetically, urged Abbie to say goodbye and she obeyed with a quick wave behind her back, no eye-contact, as she walked confidently over to her desk.

And that was that. Lucy and I left and went to a park, where we both felt weird spending so much one-on-one time together, and Abbie dominated her first day of Kindergarten. As, of course, I should have known she would.

It has cascading rhinestones

The cable guys just left, after having been here for half an hour or so. As I shut the door behind them, I brushed my hair behind my ear and made a horrible discovery.

I am wearing a sparkly, bedazzled blue hair clip. Lucy insisted that I put it on this morning, and I forgot all about it. Until just now, of course, when it's too late.

New Grade, New School, New life.

Hi, this is Katie. I'm back from my first day of survival. Middle School....am I supposed to find this word scary? Today, August 30, was my first day. Beth went into 4th and Claire into 2nd. Abbie starts kindergarten tomorrow. I will now explain classes and such.

Homeroom/English: I get off the bus and go to a gym until 7:40 then go to my locker. I walk up to the middle floor, in the new building*. I am in homeroom then have language arts. I stay there. My teacher is extremely nice. And guess what? Her name is Katie. And the student-teacher's name is also Katie!

World Cultures: Let's skip this one. I didn't have it. I was still in homeroom.

Band: I had a little trouble finding it. I mean, it's in the old building*! I play the flute. This class is on A days**. My teacher is really nice (to a certain degree) and I like my classmates. My teacher is my only male teacher. I hope I enjoy it.

Health: Nothing to say here. I have it tomorrow, on a B day**.

Lunch: *sigh*, this did not start out well. This was the only time I got lost. It's not really a class, but I feel that I should include it. I teamed up with another girl (she had a map) and we worked together. We ended up asking a teacher then found our way. This is also in the old building*!

Math: My teacher is really nice. I had a few problems in there (needed to see chalkboard, no sharpener, lost composition book(that was found)). The class is right by my locker! :)

Reading: I love, love, love, reading! The teacher remembered my name, she's nice and understanding, and is a perfect reading teacher! The class easy to find.

Gym: Don't get me started. Getting dressed in a cramped room with 44 girls, hot and sweaty, being paired up in many different ways, new locker combination ( I have mastered my first) , this will probably the worst part of the day. It's hard to find too, in THE OLD BUILDING*!!! I like the girls and the gym teacher, though.:)

Science: Ahh...the end of the day. The teacher is AWESOME!! She is funny and laughs and explains things very well. The class is easy to find. I only know 4 kids.

Dismissal***: Report to locker (Certain days may require me to pick up my flute). Go outside to side loop. Find bus. Save seat for BFF.

The Bus: I have to wake up at 6:00. There are some High School-ers on. They're not very appropriate. The bus driver is really nice. She is very observant and kind. My BFF, Natalie, rides the bus as well (Whoohoo!!). I then take the bus back home***.

I have art the second half of the year (instead of health). I really get hot and sweaty running around.
*There is the old building and an annex, the same size. It is a MAZE in the old building. I cannot find ANYTHING there! The annex is super easy to navigate.
**There are A days and B days. On A days I have band and on B days I have health. Everything else is the same.

You know your kids are awesome when....

...not one, not two, but THREE people at the museum approach you to gush about how well behaved they are, how sweetly they treat each other, and what an amazing family you have.

Then, as if that weren't enough, when you stop to take a video of a disturbing bunny in the "sculpture garden" they all, in unison and completely on their own volition, decide to act like a pack of zombies.

These girls are the best.

Whine!

I am craving eggs in the worst way, but I can't make myself eat them because they are a brand named in the recall. What I really want to do is run down to the farmer's market and buy real, deep-yolky free range eggs that I trust, but I won't be able to do that either. Instead, I am going to sit here and try to convince myself that I will be perfectly happy with cereal for breakfast. Stupid egg manufacturers. Don't they realize there are pregnant women out there who can't live without their morning egg?

Days in Rodanthe

This is what we were up to last week. I'm sure you'll understand if it takes us a few days to recover from all this relaxing.

7 quick takes from a big fat hypocrite

I am a hypocrite for two reasons here. #1, I am about to list my seven favorite forms of devotion as though I am actually in the habit of practicing these forms of devotion. #2, I always scoff at the idea of being an actual "blogger" both because I frequently go weeks where I forget to post stuff and also because...well, nobody reads this regularly (except my mom - thanks, Mom!) Chris will sometimes give me a hard time about being a Pretentious Blogger, but my defense is that I don't actually put work into my posts, I don't promote it, I haven't listed it anywhere, and I never participate in any blog-type networking.
Ah, until now, that is. I was surprised to find myself tagged by Simcha Fischer, who by the way has, like, the best blog going,* and now look at me - pleased as punch, figuring out links and things in my pathetic eagerness to impress the cool kids.

So without further ado, here are my 5 favorite forms of devotion, dovetailed into the 7 quick takes because I am not sure which one I was supposed to do:

---1---

The Rosary

I love the rosary, even though I often forget that fact and convince myself that it's too hard to say consistently. I'm pretty good about saying one a day while nursing babies who keep me pinned to the couch for half hour stretches, but I have a terrible tendency to fall out of the habit once the convenience is over. I find, though, that when I do say a rosary every day my perception of life in general is much better. Mark Shea, another Catholic writer I really like, said something a while ago about the rosary being a success story** that really hit home for me. I have inherited the pessimistic Irish gloom of my family, and it can be very easy for me to fall into the trap of thinking that the world is nothing but a vale of tears. The rosary is a way of re-living, over and over and over again, the reality that the vale of tears is really just a part of the story: ultimately good triumphs over evil and peace and joy actually prevail. That is so cool, it's hard to believe it's for real. And that, of course, is why it is good to say the rosary over and over and over. I need this beat into my head or I'm apt to forget it.

---2---
Adoration

Long ago, during my first semester in college, I accidentally signed up for adoration in the middle of the night. (I didn't notice that pesky little a.m. beside the 3.) It turned into one of my favorite things, though. Sitting in the quiet chapel, completely alone, made my time in front of the Eucharist feel very, very personal. Even when I fell asleep which, to my shame, I did more than once.

I think it was going to adoration that first drew my heart towards the Church. My mom used to take me to St. Paul's Monastery in Pittsburgh when I was very little, and I absolutely fell in love with kneeling in the semi-dark church, surrounded by flickering red candles and a peaceful quiet that can be found nowhere else. Now-a-days, though, it's just plain old hard to get there. Our parish has perpetual adoration on Fridays, but between school and nap schedules I've never found an available time-slot that we can make. Remembering my own lovely childhood experience, I take the girls once in a while for a "quick visit" where we stay for maybe 10 minutes, but I've found that staying an entire hour can be very taxing on the younger ones. Whenever I manage to get there for an hour myself, though -- I really do enjoy it. It's that peaceful quiet, it just gets me every time. Just yesterday, I spent the day at the Catholic Writer's conference, and they had set up a little adoration chapel. I found myself going in multiple times, and I reminded myself of the girls who often climb up beside Chris or me when we are sitting on the couch. They don't ask us to do anything; they just want to sit close to us, and when they feel ready they'll run back to whatever game they were playing. That's what adoration is like.

I need to make getting there more of a priority.

---3---
Confession

I hate going to confession. It's always inconvenient, it's awkward, and for some mysterious reason (because I am not always terribly sad) it makes me cry every single time, which leaves me feeling horribly conspicuous when I exit the confessional. However, it takes a huge load off. I always wish I hadn't suggested going on our way in, but I am always glad on our way out.

---4---
Praying for the dead

This is an a devotion I can actually claim to do consistently. Saying the "Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord" prayer is something I automatically do whenever I pass a graveyard (and I live right down the street from one, so I at least say it a couple of times a day.)

I can't remember where I got the idea, but I say 5 Apostles Creeds, 1 Hail Holy Queen, and an Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be for friends, family, and people I feel compelled to pray for in purgatory every day (unless I forget to.) I like to take advantage of the whole Communion of Saints thing, and it's easier to make friends with the dead than it is with the irritating living. Does that make me seem psychotic? If you read the passage in The Brothers Karamazov where Fr. Zosimov talks about the importance of praying for those who have died each day, it makes it sound better.

---5---
Blessing my Family

This is another tradition that grew from something my mom did. (See, Mom? I did listen to you sometimes!) Every night before bed, I ask for a blessing on my house and each of member of my family. I used to make sort of a production out of it, naming all sorts of evils etc. that I wanted us to be protected from, but now I just ask Christ to give us the grace to love Him always, no matter what happens.

---6---
This one doesn't have a name

Long ago, I took a class by a wonderful priest named Fr. Mastroeni. He was an excellent teacher, but intimidating as hell. I would literally pray every morning before class that he wouldn't call on me, because to not answer perfectly brought a withering scorn like nothing you have ever seen. (Turns out, deep down Fr. Mastroeni was a big softie. When my friend Monica accidentally slept through our Final Exam, she faced him in tears, sure that he was going to fail her for the class. Instead, he let her take the exam later - in secret, because he didn't want to ruin his reputation as the hardest of hard-noses.) Anyway, he always began class with this prayer:

Direct O Lord all our actions, by your holy inspirations
and carry them on by your gracious assistance so
that every prayer and work of our may always begin from You
And by You be happily ended through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The girls and I say this prayer every morning. They don't feel like they've started the day properly without it. Thanks, Fr. Mastroeni!

---7---
Muttering and Sputtering

Remember when I said praying for the dead was the one I do most consistently? That's a lie. This is the "devotion" I am most consistent with. It boils down to me saying, throughout each day, things like, "I'm an idiot, God! Help me" or "help me to not dwell on this grievance," or "give me patience with this ridiculous kid!" Occasionally, I'll even manage something like, "thank you, God, for this sunset, or this sweet little girl, or this wonderful meal that my husband made for us and please-don't-let-me-get-irritated-with-the-mess-he-just-made-in-my-kitchen." A lot of times, I won't say coherent prayers at all, I'll just kind of....think about God, or sort of dwell on this or that thing that I read. I think this is what Peter Kreeft means when he talks about "practicing the presence of God," but I suspect Dr. Kreeft does it better than I do.

* I actually saw SinCity- in the theater!- and liked it, though.
** I spent forever looking for the quote about how the rosary is a success story, but for the life of me I can't find it. I am positive that I did not hallucinate it, though. It exists somewhere!

Also I can't figure out the linky thing, so here's just a plain ol' link to the blog that does the 7 quick takes, Conversion Diary, another one of my favorite blogs. I promised the girls milkshakes tonight, since I made them such a half-hearted dinner, and they are about to mutiny so I cannot spend any more time trying to figure this out!

Not enough names, too many opinions

We have finally nailed down a name for this baby.
It took a while because....well, we're running out of names we love. Things were getting so grim that we very seriously considered naming this baby Penelope (which is a name we both really like) even though it would mean that her nickname would make it look like we named her after my childhood dog (Penny. I really did love Penny.)

Anyway, we officially told the girls today what her name will be. What we did not expect was Lucy's very forceful reaction.

"No!" she yelled at us, covering her face with her hands, "I hate that horrible name!!!"

Chris managed to diffuse the situation by suggesting a nickname. I am not personally fond of it, but it works with Lucy. So, as of right now, her plan is to call her new sister "Uth."

Oasis

We are gearing up this week for our trip to the Outer Banks, something that in my mind has been synonymous with the close of summer. When we get back, we'll have just two weeks until school begins and then six more weeks until this baby is due.

Whew.

This has been a really nice summer. I woke up this morning (note that I "woke up" not that I "was woken up," a little difference in verb tense that makes a gigantic difference in reality) around 9am and the only ones awake were Katie and Beth, who were both contentedly watching tv in the basement. By 10am everyone was awake and moving, and by 10:30 breakfast had been served to everyone and the dishes cleaned up. It is now 11:30, and I have spent that solid hour (a whole hour!) just puttering around, left to my own devices. When I am done here, we will throw on bathing suits and hang out by the pool for a few hours. Lunch will probably just be some yogurt and fruit served on the porch, and after I've played all our usual games I am hoping that Lucy will allow me to spend some time working on a story I've been writing for fun. She will most likely give me no trouble.

This will all be over in two weeks; we will be getting up much earlier, we will have much less leisure time, we will be a little more stressed. That's fine, really. A huge part of what has made this summer so heavenly is the fact that it has been such a rare treat. Everybody sleeps through the night, nobody needs naps, there are no diapers to change, no babies to feed, everyone can dress themselves (mostly) and find their own games to play. I have actually been getting a full night's sleep every single night. It has literally been over a decade since I could say that. I'm going to repeat this, because it makes me feel good to acknowledge it: it has been over a decade since I have been able to get a full night's sleep consistently.

I have really enjoyed it.

I feel, too, like we really needed this sweet, simple summer filled with slow mornings and lazy afternoons. In two weeks, the pace is about to quicken quite a bit. In eight weeks, all hell is going to break loose. That might seem like a nasty way to describe the advent of a new baby, but let's be honest: it's true. I will not be sleeping, something that I can now see - now that I am not perpetually exhausted - affects me profoundly. We will be juggling the schedules of a newborn, a highly opinionated 3 year old, three elementary school students, and a brand new middle-schooler. Chris' work schedule is more hectic than ever before and is not likely to calm down in the next six months. Katie is looking into joining a few clubs next year, and Beth, Claire and Abbie are all starting Girl Scouts. We are going to be busy. Really busy.

But it's okay. This summer has served as a glorious reminder that things can eventually ease up. That even life with a houseful of young children can offer up periods of peace and tranquility. This has been a summer to catch up on things: disorganized corners, sleep, our breath. Maybe it's the calm before the storm, but it is also a reminder that there is a calm after the storm as well.

So right now I am going to finish my coffee and enjoy the quiet, empty living room without guilt. This is not permanent. I just need to remember, when the baby has been up all night and someone needs cupcakes for a class party and someone else needs help with homework, all before someone else needs to be picked up from someplace inconvenient, that it, too, will not be permanent. These seasons are going to ebb and flow, just like the ocean we are about to visit, and the key is going to be finding the ways to best ride out each phase.

I am grateful for the chance to still my breathing, because I see the next wave coming and I am ready to catch it.

Non-swimming summer activities

Here are a few things, other than swimming, we've done this summer:

We went to a minor league baseball game:




We have been watching lots of shows, many of them heavily influenced by Lucy's recent preoccupation with "The Karate Kid 2" :



And today we had a girls afternoon out at a Victorian tea house! The girls brought their "lady manners" and absolutely dominated in their fancy hats. It was a ton of fun, super girlie, and really highlights (for me) the advantages of having daughters!

Every Minute, Every Second... (by Katie)

I can't stop thinking about it... the beach! On August 7 we leave for North Carolina. I don't think I can wait any longer. I've taken taken my old 4th grade journal and devoted the empty pages to my "documents". I've made a sketch of the floor plans, explained them, labeled them, wrote lists of what I need to bring, games to play, what to do for 8 hours in the car, interviewed the girls, and now I am keeping a diary untill we go and leave. Oh...I have also wrote letters to relatives ( I hope you appreciate them, It took me hours!). On the floor plans I move a pencil across it, pretending it's me and I'm there : It's actually very entertaining :-). So now I have made a grocery store, park, etc. I hope that they will keep me entertained long enough in the car. The girls have made me make them floor plans. I seriously can't stop thinking about it! I think it's the only thing I live for right now. We come back August 14. The only problem is (besides the car ride) that my BFF leaves for a two week vacation today and comes back when we leave! We'll be seperated for 3 weeks! That's torture to me and her! But when I go for my vacation it should hopefully keep my mind off it. I love knowing something where just the thought of it lights a warm fire in my heart. Today I'll enjoy myself swimming then going to a baseball game ( some Volt guy is going to be there). Life right now is sweet . :P

Impressive beginning, strange conclusion

Here is a literal transcript from an actual conversation. I have no comment on it because....there's just no way to comment on it.

Chris: What are you looking at Lucy?
Lucy: Map.
Chris: Oh, nice.
Lucy: Look - here's California!
Chris: How in the world do you know where California is?
Lucy: It's California!
Chris: Well, I'm really impressed. Where did you learn that?
Lucy: Hot dogs!
Chris: What?
Lucy: Sometimes hot dogs can come alive.

End of an Era

11 years ago, I was working at a daycare in Wintersville, OH. I was somehow or other under the impression that McDonald's milkshakes were an acceptable form of calcium during pregnancy, and I was spending my very first few days alone while Chris was in Baltimore on a business trip.

I left work on a Friday, picked up Vanessa, the fiancee of Chris' friend (or she picked me up, I can't remember now), made a stop at McDonald's for Fish Fillet Sandwiches and (of course) a milkshake, and headed out to Baltimore to meet our guys. This girl and I had met before, but this was the first time we had spent any real amount of time together, and it felt important for us to get along because it was looking like my husband and her husband-to-be were going to be relocated, taking us to a strange city where just about the only people we would know would be each other.

That was 11 years ago. I wish I could go back and tell my old self, nervous about a 5 hour drive with someone I barely knew, that it would all be okay. "She is one day going to pressure you into joining a gym," I would tell myself, "and you will love it! You will both be pregnant at the same time soon, and your kids are going to be great friends. One day both of your husbands are going to feel bad about spending all night playing computer games together, and they will buy you matching KitchenAid mixers to apologize. You will borrow recipes from, swap old-wives-tales with, and meet this woman at coffee shops late at night when you are both desperate and in need of adult conversation. You are going to spend Christmases, New Years, Thanksgivings and Easters with these people, and it is what is going to make this new city feel like Home."

These are the things I was thinking about when the Lobers came over after church on Sunday for the last time, ever. Our kids played their last game of whatever-it-is, some Indian/super-hero hybrid thing that can only be played satisfactorily in each others' company, and we sat around the table and talked, laughing with and at each other in the casual way that has grown up between us. By the end of this week, the Lobers will be gone, off to a better job, a super-sweet house, and a family support system that has always haunted them. Because they are like family to us, because we love them we are very, deeply happy for them. Because they are like family to us, and because we love them we are also sad to see them go.

As they pulled out of our driveway last Sunday, I used Chris' shirt to dry my eyes and he patted me on the head. "It was a good run, " he said to me, "People these days don't usually get so long before moving on." He was right. It was a good run, and like all good things it had to come to an end. We will miss them sorely, but I am grateful for the years' worth of memories and friendship that we have built up with them, and we wish them all the luck in the world as they move on to the next phase in their lives.

Tooth Fairy Trouble

Here is what happened: Claire's friend just lost her tooth last week, and she proudly showed Claire the little toy the Tooth Fairy brought her. A few days later, Claire also lost a tooth.

The Tooth Fairy has never brought anything other than a dollar around here, and even that cannot be counted on to arrive on time. (We all know how flighty the Tooth Fairy is, right? Sometimes it takes her a couple of days to remember......this is common knowledge - and don't even think about telling my kids otherwise!)

So, Claire thinks about this injustice as she prepares her tooth for its pillow. Then she decides to take action, showing her parents the note below just before bedtime.

I am sure this put the Tooth Fairy in a pickle, because she was not prepared to deposit a toy under Claire's pillow that night. In fact, she was probably not happy about setting a new precedent in regards to tooth compensation. She was also probably completely unsure how to handle this situation.

Luckily, I think she finally hit upon more or less the right note: she gave in to the immediate request, but laid the guilt on thickly to prevent its ever being made again. This was perhaps not the best tactic in the world, but hey! It worked.

Blueberry picking!

Yes, it was hot. Yes, the girls were tired by the end. Yes, it was maybe not a good idea to stay up late for an outdoor performance of "A Midsummer's Night Dream" the night before....But this is becoming a tradition we all love (the ice cream at the end does a lot to help with this, thanks to Grandma Mlinek!) and we now have around 15 pounds of gorgeous, fresh, delicious blueberries to play around with! Jam, pies, cobblers, buckles are all in our future....if the girls don't gobble up all 15 pounds first.

It is too hot to do anything but this...

...so this is all we are doing.

Happy 4th of July!

We had some friends and family over for a little cookout yesterday, and it was a lot of fun! The kids all converged on the pool, the adults lounged (and sweated) on the deck, and then we wrapped it all up with a little fireworks display. It was shorter than the fireworks last year (which went on so long the kids actually got bored) but much more impressive.

Here are some videos - the kickoff, and then later on when the guys were really warmed up.

Cranky musings of a pregnant whiner who does not appreciate nature the way she should

Every hour spent working in the yard confirms to me how much I hate working in the yard.

When we are done, sweaty and tired, itchy and achy, it might help if I felt a sense of accomplishment but I don't. What I feel is a sense of despair, that we will never have enough time, enough money, enough energy, enough willpower, enough know-how to ever transform this potentially beautiful yard from the white trash dumping ground of the dead and dying (except for the prickly weeds, which are flourishing nicely) that it currently is.

Chris and I recently saw a t.v. show where drug smugglers offered to landscape the yard of an elderly lady for free, so that they could secretly grow marijuana in the corner. They did good work, and her yard looked great (aside from the plot of weed - although, to be fair, that also was well-maintained and looked about as nice as a garden of illegal drugs can.) Is it wrong of me to be jealous of this scenario?

Fusion Pilates for Pregnancy, opinionated audience edition

Overheard while trying to follow an exercise video this morning:

"This looks too easy!" "That's because you're not pregnant."

"You look like a doggie, Mommy." *

"Why are you breathing like that?"

"You don't look like the lady on the t.v."

"Why do you always use the wrong side when they say 'left' or 'right'?"

"I can do that! I do that all the time, anyways!"

"Why are you sweating from stretching out?"

"Will I have to do this, too, when I am pregnant?"


*I don't know if that comment was because I was on all fours, or because of the panting.....

Summer In My Eyes

This is Katie, the oldest daughter. I am currently 10, about 4 months until new baby and my 11th birthday. I have finished Elementary (congrats to other family members who have graduated in some way, I will not say names) school on June 17,2010. The ceremony was about 1 hour long!! I enjoyed my last time teasing there, though it's ALWAYS hard to say goodbye. I have (naturally) been having dreams taking place in Middle School. Here's the funny thing, though: In 4th grade, I had a dream where I was at some school but didn't belong there. The kids were all older. This year, though, I visited the same place, but I belonged there (but of course, forgot my book bag) !!! Isn't that ironic? This summer we've worked on the pool, organized the craft room, and cleaned. My friend has been at the beach, and therefore I am slowly crumbling inside. The pool should be ready at the end of the week, there's the 4th of July and fireworks, and summer has only just started. While the girls play Violent polly pockets (burning houses, murders, psycho person), Mom exercises, and Dad changes from his work clothes, I feel contented. Oh, and I got straight As again, but there's summer homework!!! Boy, summer is good.