She did manage to eat one actual food item today: a piece of pumpernickel bagel.
Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure she was only willing to put it in her mouth because it was a similar color to chocolate....
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Hunger Games
Ruth is refusing to eat.
It began on Sunday, when I (as I always do, because I believe fully in the feasting aspect of Easter!) let the girls eat candy out of their baskets before breakfast.
Ruth is kind of a choco-holic. I mean, she really really loves chocolate. When I make chocolate-chip pumpkin muffins, she very carefully mines out all of the chocolate chips and eats them, then throws the rest of the muffin on the floor. I switched to those tiny little mini-chocolate chips in an effort to thwart her, but she has her pincher grip down pretty good and just takes the extra time to excavate those teeny little nuggets of chocolate.
So now that she knows there is chocolate in the house, she is refusing to eat anything else. On Easter, she refused the delicious ham, homemade bread rolls, marshmallow fruit salad and candied carrots that her Grandma had so lovingly set out. At home she has refused oatmeal (with chocolate chips, no less, because I'm getting desperate!), bananas, grapes, cheese, peanut butter sandwiches: all of her favorite foods are being laid before her, and she is stubbornly resisting it all.
If any of the girls foolishly leave a basket laying around we can be sure to find Ruth, with a stealthy silence that would amaze an elf, carefully picking out and unwrapping chocolate eggs.
If I had more time, or was a better writer (or maybe a better mother) I would find some way to connect this to the tendency we all struggle against, to pass over the joys laid before us in our anxiety to reach for some other good that exists only in imagination. Or something like that.
Instead, I am going to use the remainder of bath-time (the one time of day, aside from glorious nap-time, when I can do stuff around the house unhindered) to hunt down and hide every last trace of chocolate. And I am going to hope that eventually Ruth's need for real food will overpower her disordered desire for chocolate, and she will again be in a position to appreciate the feast set before her.
I believe the technical term for recognizing the value of what is in front of you is virtue.
Feasting is awesome, but you ruin it when what you're pining for is not what you've been given but the one you've set your heart on. Or something like that.
It began on Sunday, when I (as I always do, because I believe fully in the feasting aspect of Easter!) let the girls eat candy out of their baskets before breakfast.
Ruth is kind of a choco-holic. I mean, she really really loves chocolate. When I make chocolate-chip pumpkin muffins, she very carefully mines out all of the chocolate chips and eats them, then throws the rest of the muffin on the floor. I switched to those tiny little mini-chocolate chips in an effort to thwart her, but she has her pincher grip down pretty good and just takes the extra time to excavate those teeny little nuggets of chocolate.
So now that she knows there is chocolate in the house, she is refusing to eat anything else. On Easter, she refused the delicious ham, homemade bread rolls, marshmallow fruit salad and candied carrots that her Grandma had so lovingly set out. At home she has refused oatmeal (with chocolate chips, no less, because I'm getting desperate!), bananas, grapes, cheese, peanut butter sandwiches: all of her favorite foods are being laid before her, and she is stubbornly resisting it all.
If any of the girls foolishly leave a basket laying around we can be sure to find Ruth, with a stealthy silence that would amaze an elf, carefully picking out and unwrapping chocolate eggs.
If I had more time, or was a better writer (or maybe a better mother) I would find some way to connect this to the tendency we all struggle against, to pass over the joys laid before us in our anxiety to reach for some other good that exists only in imagination. Or something like that.
Instead, I am going to use the remainder of bath-time (the one time of day, aside from glorious nap-time, when I can do stuff around the house unhindered) to hunt down and hide every last trace of chocolate. And I am going to hope that eventually Ruth's need for real food will overpower her disordered desire for chocolate, and she will again be in a position to appreciate the feast set before her.
I believe the technical term for recognizing the value of what is in front of you is virtue.
Feasting is awesome, but you ruin it when what you're pining for is not what you've been given but the one you've set your heart on. Or something like that.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Seven Quick Things that Have Been on my Mind
No pictures, because I broke my camera. (Yes, again. What? It's perfectly normal for someone shuttling six kids around all day to have trouble keeping her grip on her camera. It is! Have you been talking to my husband or something? )
1- I may have inadvertently solved the issue of the girls obsessing over this blog, because it has now been so long since I've updated that they have stopped checking for new posts. I am thinking that I may forbid them from reading it, for the near future. My plan has always been to let them read it when they are older (and removed from whatever situation is at hand,) so I may just stick to that and make them wait until the time is right.
2- We were blessed with something of a miracle a few weeks ago. It has been 18 months since the birth of Ruth and the inability for the Dusty Camel (our beloved and filthy minivan) to fit our entire family. This has made long trips very tricky and has in general been a huge nuisance. The problem was - big old vans are kind of expensive, especially since we recently had to replace Chris' old car.....Well, heaven smiled down on us in the form of two families from our parish - one who noticed a 15 passenger van for sale and contacted us, the other who then sold it to us in ridiculously good condition for a ridiculously low price. To illustrate what a big deal this van is to us and how excited the girls are about it: Beth recently asked me if, in lieu of a birthday party at our house, I could pick up all of her friends with the new van and just drive them around.
3- Lucy has been insisting that we should refer to the new van as "The BUS." It is imperative that you say it exactly as written - with major emphasis on "BUS." I'm inclined to go along with this.
4- Now that it is Spring, the reality that Lucy will be starting Kindergarten in the Fall has really hit me. I'm going to miss her a ton. She is a hilarious companion these days, with her confidence and her straightforward pronouncements on life. At the park the other day a little boy took a shine to Lu and began shadowing her every move. She was intent on "ballerina training," which mostly means she swans around, doing twirls and fancy leaps off of the equipment. Finally, in exasperation with the boy she turned to him and said, as gently as she could, "Look. You need to find your own life."
5- Ruth, these days, is a quirky ball of trouble. Her favorite activity is to run away from me : in stores, at the playground, dropping Lucy off at preschool...The moment she gets her chance, I will hear her giggles as she starts to run away as fast as she can. Obviously, this is about as dangerous a pastime as a baby can have, especially when said baby has no fear whatsoever of passing cars. I am glad for two things: one, that Lucy is reliable enough to stand still whenever I have to rush off in a panic after Ruth, and two, that I am past the point of caring if people stare at me while Ruth, confined, screams bloody murder. And believe me, she has the power to shriek like nothing I've ever encountered before. It nice to be so liberated, mentally. It's one of the great perks, I think, of being in your 30s. (Maybe, as well, it is related to the 12+ years I've already spent hauling screaming kids out of stores. So this one is louder. Blah. Who cares.)
6- Beth and Claire both recently had artwork selected to be displayed in a local art exhibit. We were so proud of them!!! I really enjoyed it, and there was a surprisingly large number of really great art (all from elementary through high school.) Beth had her picture taken by a newspaper cameraman, so we are on the lookout to see if she makes it in!
7- I recently had my first comment from a stranger on the streak of grey hair I've got going on in front. Should I be glad about this, or upset? I hate the comments I get (especially from Katie's teachers etc.) on my age, as though I'm too young to take seriously....On the other hand, as the mother of an 18 month old I'm not exactly hoping to be taken as a grandmother quite yet. I kind of like my streak of grey, I kind of like the fact that I am (I think) starting to look more like an adult and less like an overgrown baby. I kind of did not like having a stranger comment on it, though!
Bonus #8 - We are doing a Walk for Wishes for the Make A Wish Foundation in two weeks. This organization is so wonderful, and had such a profound effect on us after Abbie's ordeal that I can't even begin to do it justice. I don't even like Disney, and yet our trip to Disney World was magical, carefree (which, when you are dealing with cancer or any serious illness in a kid cannot be overestimated) and, believe it or not, healing. Not just for Abbie, but for our entire family. And we were not - by far! - the worst-off family we encountered. So many families are dealing with heavy, heavy burdens that consume every day and will never go away. I don't know that there is anything they need more, really, than a chance to experience a little relief. If you have any spare change, why don't you throw it their way? Here's the link to our "Team Abbie" Make-A-Wish page. I'm not much of a fundraiser, but these people are taking heartbreaking situations and infusing them with a little bit of joy.
Bonus#9 - Just for fun, here's a video the girls made my Mom for her birthday:
FYI, Jen over at Conversion Diary is where 7 Quick Takes comes from. Her blog is hilarious and profound, and her posts about being an introvert have made me realize - hey! I am also "An Introvert," not just a socially awkward semi-hermit who sometimes hides in the bathroom because I so desperately need to be alone.
1- I may have inadvertently solved the issue of the girls obsessing over this blog, because it has now been so long since I've updated that they have stopped checking for new posts. I am thinking that I may forbid them from reading it, for the near future. My plan has always been to let them read it when they are older (and removed from whatever situation is at hand,) so I may just stick to that and make them wait until the time is right.
2- We were blessed with something of a miracle a few weeks ago. It has been 18 months since the birth of Ruth and the inability for the Dusty Camel (our beloved and filthy minivan) to fit our entire family. This has made long trips very tricky and has in general been a huge nuisance. The problem was - big old vans are kind of expensive, especially since we recently had to replace Chris' old car.....Well, heaven smiled down on us in the form of two families from our parish - one who noticed a 15 passenger van for sale and contacted us, the other who then sold it to us in ridiculously good condition for a ridiculously low price. To illustrate what a big deal this van is to us and how excited the girls are about it: Beth recently asked me if, in lieu of a birthday party at our house, I could pick up all of her friends with the new van and just drive them around.
3- Lucy has been insisting that we should refer to the new van as "The BUS." It is imperative that you say it exactly as written - with major emphasis on "BUS." I'm inclined to go along with this.
4- Now that it is Spring, the reality that Lucy will be starting Kindergarten in the Fall has really hit me. I'm going to miss her a ton. She is a hilarious companion these days, with her confidence and her straightforward pronouncements on life. At the park the other day a little boy took a shine to Lu and began shadowing her every move. She was intent on "ballerina training," which mostly means she swans around, doing twirls and fancy leaps off of the equipment. Finally, in exasperation with the boy she turned to him and said, as gently as she could, "Look. You need to find your own life."
5- Ruth, these days, is a quirky ball of trouble. Her favorite activity is to run away from me : in stores, at the playground, dropping Lucy off at preschool...The moment she gets her chance, I will hear her giggles as she starts to run away as fast as she can. Obviously, this is about as dangerous a pastime as a baby can have, especially when said baby has no fear whatsoever of passing cars. I am glad for two things: one, that Lucy is reliable enough to stand still whenever I have to rush off in a panic after Ruth, and two, that I am past the point of caring if people stare at me while Ruth, confined, screams bloody murder. And believe me, she has the power to shriek like nothing I've ever encountered before. It nice to be so liberated, mentally. It's one of the great perks, I think, of being in your 30s. (Maybe, as well, it is related to the 12+ years I've already spent hauling screaming kids out of stores. So this one is louder. Blah. Who cares.)
6- Beth and Claire both recently had artwork selected to be displayed in a local art exhibit. We were so proud of them!!! I really enjoyed it, and there was a surprisingly large number of really great art (all from elementary through high school.) Beth had her picture taken by a newspaper cameraman, so we are on the lookout to see if she makes it in!
7- I recently had my first comment from a stranger on the streak of grey hair I've got going on in front. Should I be glad about this, or upset? I hate the comments I get (especially from Katie's teachers etc.) on my age, as though I'm too young to take seriously....On the other hand, as the mother of an 18 month old I'm not exactly hoping to be taken as a grandmother quite yet. I kind of like my streak of grey, I kind of like the fact that I am (I think) starting to look more like an adult and less like an overgrown baby. I kind of did not like having a stranger comment on it, though!
Bonus #8 - We are doing a Walk for Wishes for the Make A Wish Foundation in two weeks. This organization is so wonderful, and had such a profound effect on us after Abbie's ordeal that I can't even begin to do it justice. I don't even like Disney, and yet our trip to Disney World was magical, carefree (which, when you are dealing with cancer or any serious illness in a kid cannot be overestimated) and, believe it or not, healing. Not just for Abbie, but for our entire family. And we were not - by far! - the worst-off family we encountered. So many families are dealing with heavy, heavy burdens that consume every day and will never go away. I don't know that there is anything they need more, really, than a chance to experience a little relief. If you have any spare change, why don't you throw it their way? Here's the link to our "Team Abbie" Make-A-Wish page. I'm not much of a fundraiser, but these people are taking heartbreaking situations and infusing them with a little bit of joy.
Bonus#9 - Just for fun, here's a video the girls made my Mom for her birthday:
FYI, Jen over at Conversion Diary is where 7 Quick Takes comes from. Her blog is hilarious and profound, and her posts about being an introvert have made me realize - hey! I am also "An Introvert," not just a socially awkward semi-hermit who sometimes hides in the bathroom because I so desperately need to be alone.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Despite my last post full of uncertainty and angst....
....one of my kids just said something that has me laughing too much to keep to myself.
So a dirty little secret of mine is this: I can't remember anybody's actual first word. There are certain words that each of my kids, as babies, uttered that have stuck in my mind (like Katie saying, "What's that?" but pronouncing it "Whaaaatsssssuuuuuupp?" right when it was a catchphrase due to those commercials.) So when my kids ask me what their first word was, I just make something up.
Well, this was the topic of conversation yesterday during breakfast. I told Claire that her first word was "Dup" (meaning "cup" - something she demanded constantly.) I told Beth that her first word was "jump!" which I actually think might be true. When Lucy asked me what her first word was, though, I paused for a moment to think something up and instead of waiting she declared that she could remember herself.
"Really?" I said.
"Oh, yes," she said.
"So what was it?" I asked.
She looked at me with her blunt, frank little face and confidently announced what her first word was.
"Beer!" said Lucy.
So a dirty little secret of mine is this: I can't remember anybody's actual first word. There are certain words that each of my kids, as babies, uttered that have stuck in my mind (like Katie saying, "What's that?" but pronouncing it "Whaaaatsssssuuuuuupp?" right when it was a catchphrase due to those commercials.) So when my kids ask me what their first word was, I just make something up.
Well, this was the topic of conversation yesterday during breakfast. I told Claire that her first word was "Dup" (meaning "cup" - something she demanded constantly.) I told Beth that her first word was "jump!" which I actually think might be true. When Lucy asked me what her first word was, though, I paused for a moment to think something up and instead of waiting she declared that she could remember herself.
"Really?" I said.
"Oh, yes," she said.
"So what was it?" I asked.
She looked at me with her blunt, frank little face and confidently announced what her first word was.
"Beer!" said Lucy.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
On my lack of posting
I've basically used this blog as my memory book for the past few years, which has worked out well since I gave up keeping up individual books, oh, somewhere around Katie's 1st birthday.
I'm running into a problem now, though. The girls, as they get older, love to pour over past posts, laughing at the silly things they used to do. I'm glad they like it, but it poses a bit of a dilemma for me. For one, I self-edit very heavily now, maybe too much so. I find that I often start a post only to abandon it after editing out all the best parts.
Another issue can be summed up with the exchange I had this morning with Lucy. She asked me for an orange, but when I began to peel it she flipped out. She wanted to cut it with scissors and suck the juice out instead. This comes from a video I posted about a year ago, when she had done that very thing. The problem is, at the time it was funny and silly and just a one-off. But because I put the video on the internet, suddenly Lucy views it as the thing to do. As a parent, I believe that part of my job is to not take the mistakes of my children too seriously- sometimes I really just need to keep a sense of humor and laugh it off. But my children shouldn't view their mistakes that way - it is one thing for me to laugh at Lucy playing with scissors, it's another entirely for Lucy to think that it was such a funny thing to do that she should do it again!
So, I don't know what my game plan is going to be. I may keep the blog up and running, and just tell the girls that it is off limits until they are a little bit older. Or I may try to find the balance between kid-appropriate and boring. Or I may do some other, third thing that I haven't thought of yet. I don't know. I'll let everyone know when I figure it out!
I'm running into a problem now, though. The girls, as they get older, love to pour over past posts, laughing at the silly things they used to do. I'm glad they like it, but it poses a bit of a dilemma for me. For one, I self-edit very heavily now, maybe too much so. I find that I often start a post only to abandon it after editing out all the best parts.
Another issue can be summed up with the exchange I had this morning with Lucy. She asked me for an orange, but when I began to peel it she flipped out. She wanted to cut it with scissors and suck the juice out instead. This comes from a video I posted about a year ago, when she had done that very thing. The problem is, at the time it was funny and silly and just a one-off. But because I put the video on the internet, suddenly Lucy views it as the thing to do. As a parent, I believe that part of my job is to not take the mistakes of my children too seriously- sometimes I really just need to keep a sense of humor and laugh it off. But my children shouldn't view their mistakes that way - it is one thing for me to laugh at Lucy playing with scissors, it's another entirely for Lucy to think that it was such a funny thing to do that she should do it again!
So, I don't know what my game plan is going to be. I may keep the blog up and running, and just tell the girls that it is off limits until they are a little bit older. Or I may try to find the balance between kid-appropriate and boring. Or I may do some other, third thing that I haven't thought of yet. I don't know. I'll let everyone know when I figure it out!
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Tell me my kids aren't the coolest
Seriously. I cannot tell you how proud it makes me that this is the way they spend their Christmas vacation:
Sunday, December 18, 2011
The girls are making a movie
The girls decided to make their own version of X-Men First Class. They are not done filming it yet, but here's the teaser trailer. (I know I'm the Mom and everything, but I have to say I am legitimately impressed!)
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
The ugly truth
Christmas-time can be very stressful. As hard as I try to not make it so, I often find myself here in mid-December, feeling completely overwhelmed. I know that most other mothers (if they are honest ones) struggle with this as well: walking the fine line between creating a festive, warm atmosphere without getting bogged down in the enormous amount of work it takes to get there.
For me, it's my own lack of organizational skills that really gets me this time of year. I want to get out cards, to re-connect to people we've otherwise lost touch with. I want to send little packages to friends and family. I want to remember the school bus drivers and cafeteria workers, who help my children every day and get very little recognition. I want to do fun things, like making gingerbread men or going to see light displays or hosting cookie-parties. The reality is.....I will probably only accomplish half of the things I plan to do. We've already been derailed by a stomach flu and I just realized that while I was busy cleaning out the upstairs, the basement has become completely unlivable. A last minute party or school event is bound to pop up. Add into all of this Baby Ruth, who deserves her own category. She does not like our life to be too busy, she needs downtime built into every day and it's not just for naps; she needs to spend time just playing with me on the floor, or reading books, or making a game out of eating yogurt. The other girls are all big enough now to roll with the program (more or less), but Ruth just can't take it if the day is all go-go-go.
So, my basement stinks. (Literally.) The tree is not up. My list of Christmas cookies is already getting pared down. The kitchen is a mess and the laundry has piled up and I have once again failed to figure out how to get the outdoor plugs to work, so our yard is dark and Scroogish.
I have, however, played peek-a-boo and danced to the musical card Grandma Niccoli sent Abbie for her birthday (which, by the way, was a favorite) and I've sat beside the tub while the my two youngest took a nice long bath. And I have to remind myself that it doesn't matter how the other mothers judge my Christmas preparedness, whether my gifts are all wrapped (they are not) or my cards are out (I haven't even taken the picture yet.) I have to remind myself what Ruth is telling me every day: the criteria I should judge myself by is whether or not I am taking good care of my family, and that has more to do with their peace of mind than with the number of items I've ticked off of a list.
So here I go into the third week of Advent and my mantra is: Keep Home Calm, Don't Worry About What Everyone Else is Doing.
Or in other words: Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward Men.
For me, it's my own lack of organizational skills that really gets me this time of year. I want to get out cards, to re-connect to people we've otherwise lost touch with. I want to send little packages to friends and family. I want to remember the school bus drivers and cafeteria workers, who help my children every day and get very little recognition. I want to do fun things, like making gingerbread men or going to see light displays or hosting cookie-parties. The reality is.....I will probably only accomplish half of the things I plan to do. We've already been derailed by a stomach flu and I just realized that while I was busy cleaning out the upstairs, the basement has become completely unlivable. A last minute party or school event is bound to pop up. Add into all of this Baby Ruth, who deserves her own category. She does not like our life to be too busy, she needs downtime built into every day and it's not just for naps; she needs to spend time just playing with me on the floor, or reading books, or making a game out of eating yogurt. The other girls are all big enough now to roll with the program (more or less), but Ruth just can't take it if the day is all go-go-go.
So, my basement stinks. (Literally.) The tree is not up. My list of Christmas cookies is already getting pared down. The kitchen is a mess and the laundry has piled up and I have once again failed to figure out how to get the outdoor plugs to work, so our yard is dark and Scroogish.
I have, however, played peek-a-boo and danced to the musical card Grandma Niccoli sent Abbie for her birthday (which, by the way, was a favorite) and I've sat beside the tub while the my two youngest took a nice long bath. And I have to remind myself that it doesn't matter how the other mothers judge my Christmas preparedness, whether my gifts are all wrapped (they are not) or my cards are out (I haven't even taken the picture yet.) I have to remind myself what Ruth is telling me every day: the criteria I should judge myself by is whether or not I am taking good care of my family, and that has more to do with their peace of mind than with the number of items I've ticked off of a list.
So here I go into the third week of Advent and my mantra is: Keep Home Calm, Don't Worry About What Everyone Else is Doing.
Or in other words: Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward Men.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Pictures from Thanksgiving
As always I didn't take as many pictures as I had planned to, but here are a few from an afternoon the girls and I spent making sand sculptures:
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| Mermaid (pregnant, in honor of Aunt Becky) And I need to just say, real quick, that it makes my heart prouder than proud to know that when my girls want to be mermaids, they don't even consider sexy siren mermaid in their haste to opt for pregnant mermaid. |
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| Crab (complete with claws - see them?) |
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| Sea Horse |
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| This was meant to be a giant jellyfish, but I was getting tired and kinda phoned it in |
Monday, October 31, 2011
Happy Halloween!
Ruth and I are both currently plague-ridden, which explains why I am sitting here posting on the blog while feeding Ruth pieces of chocolate, instead of out with my family trick-or-treating. The girls were highly energized while they got ready before going over to Becky and Dante's to trick-or-treat, though, and here are the pictures I took before they left.
We had Hermione-being-turned-into-a-cat:
A zombie sleepwalker:
A zombie bride:
A butterfly (who, it broke my heart, had to wear a heavy coat over her costume since it snowed four inches this weekend!)
And a surly pre-teen. Oh, wait, I mean....a bumble-bee.
Poor Ruth never even put on her costume, she is too boogery and unhappy. She was going to reprise her role as a butterfly, since she still fits into her costume from last year, but it was not meant to be. Now I am going to go make myself some tea and watch as much of a scary movie as Ruth will let me! Happy Halloween to everyone!
Abbie's first fifteen minutes of fame. Huzzah!
We went to the Renaissance Festival last weekend, one of our favorite yearly things to do. Huzzah! We love the cheesiness of it! Huzzah! We love the people who come in elaborate costumes, many of them having quite literally nothing to do with the Renaissance! Huzzah! Most of all, though, we freaking love the performers. Knife-throwers, jugglers, singing wenches - Huzzah! I have this itchy feeling whenever we go, the same feeling I get when we go to the circus, this feeling that I could have very easily ended up as a Carnie. The idea is very, very appealing some days!
This is not about my desire to run off and join the circus, though. This about Abbie, and whatever magic she's got going on that makes people kneel at her feet. Here she is in this video, plucked from the audience to assist our all-time favorite Renaissance Festival performer, Hilby the Skinny German Juggle Boy. We have literally been watching him (and loving his act) for years. Note the crown she is wearing; some random woman stopped us and insisted on giving it to her earlier.
What cracks me up is this: I understand when people who know about Abbie's brain tumor make a fuss over her. I understand (although it gets on my nerves) when people ask me how Abbie is, as though she's my only kid who matters. The random lady who gave Abbie a crown, though, she did not know a thing about Abbie. Hilby, when he called her to the stage, had no way of knowing that she was ever a cancer-patient. The crowd, who cheered so much for her that she ended up going back up to bow again at the end of the show (something that we've never seen happen in all the years we've been going to this) did not know that she was once one of those brave-but-plucky kids they put on St. Jude commercials. This is just the pure attractive magic of Abbie at work. Is it because she actually cares so little for what people think of her that they always seem to love her so much? I don't know, it's kind of a mystery to me. But she had a blast here, as you will see on the video, and whatever the various reasons that go behind why people single her out for attention, she always handles it well.
This is not about my desire to run off and join the circus, though. This about Abbie, and whatever magic she's got going on that makes people kneel at her feet. Here she is in this video, plucked from the audience to assist our all-time favorite Renaissance Festival performer, Hilby the Skinny German Juggle Boy. We have literally been watching him (and loving his act) for years. Note the crown she is wearing; some random woman stopped us and insisted on giving it to her earlier.
What cracks me up is this: I understand when people who know about Abbie's brain tumor make a fuss over her. I understand (although it gets on my nerves) when people ask me how Abbie is, as though she's my only kid who matters. The random lady who gave Abbie a crown, though, she did not know a thing about Abbie. Hilby, when he called her to the stage, had no way of knowing that she was ever a cancer-patient. The crowd, who cheered so much for her that she ended up going back up to bow again at the end of the show (something that we've never seen happen in all the years we've been going to this) did not know that she was once one of those brave-but-plucky kids they put on St. Jude commercials. This is just the pure attractive magic of Abbie at work. Is it because she actually cares so little for what people think of her that they always seem to love her so much? I don't know, it's kind of a mystery to me. But she had a blast here, as you will see on the video, and whatever the various reasons that go behind why people single her out for attention, she always handles it well.
Monday, October 24, 2011
The winner of the first Pittsburgh StorySlam was....
...My Uncle Mike!!!
I am extremely proud! Here's the video of his talk (which is sideways, but still effective.)
I am extremely proud! Here's the video of his talk (which is sideways, but still effective.)
Friday, September 30, 2011
7 Quick Takes, because I feel silly writing a post *just* about how I made a blanket
1: I finished it!!!
Finally, after two years of toil and uncertainty, Lucy's quilt is finished! It's not exactly perfect; I ditched my original plan for the blanket and ended up cobbling together what I had already done with scraps from other abandoned projects.
2: Now I have to do one for everybody
Notice the other waif in this picture, looking on with pathetic longing? Suddenly, everyone is dying for their own blanket. I don't know how I am going to handle this, draw straws? Beth thinks I should pick based on age; I think she's afraid that she will be grown and gone by the time I get around to her blanket. I have promised a blanket to everyone sometime before they leave for college, but I have to say that I am a little daunted by the amount of time this is going to take.
3: Here's a little slice of life with Ruth
She's pretty scattered, focus-wise. Isn't it cute, though, how she waves to people out the window? She does this all the time. And Mom - she really likes the book! It's significant that she keeps coming back to it.
4: The cooler weather is here to stay which means, ugh, the changing of the clothes
I want to curl up into a ball and die.
I wonder how other mothers with lots of kids do this. Is the pain and suffering unavoidable? Or is it avoidable, and I'm just doing it wrong?
I wish we could go back to only having one, two outfits at most. It would be so much easier.
5: Did you know that facial-recognition deficiency is, like, a thing?
It is! I've recently read two separate accounts of people mentioning that they have trouble remembering faces. It's a relief to know that I am not the only freak pretending to know who has just stopped them in the grocery store.
This is how bad it's become for me: I was in Target last week, lugging Ruth in my arms and trying to navigate a cart overladen with two huge stools (which are working out great for our homework table! I am a genius!) I saw, over the stools, a glimpse of someone at the end of the aisle, looking directly at me. I knew that her face was familiar somehow, but I ducked back behind the stool to give myself time. I knew it was a familiar face, not just someone I see once in a while. Still, though, I had no idea who she was or how I knew her. Finally, near the end of the aisle myself, I sighed and came out from behind my hiding spot to face the music.
It was mirror. The face I had not recognized was my own face.
All this is to say: If I run in to you, and can't immediately remember who you are, please don't take it personally. I really can't help it.
6: The nights that Ruth does not sleep well teach me something
I really need sleep. Babies should not try to play peek-a-boo at 3am, it's mean. And Middle Schools should not open so early, some of us like to sleep in.
7: I've been on an old movie kick and: what's with all the scandalous behavior?!?!
How did I never notice before how so many of these old movies (like, 40s and early 50s) treat adultery like something that's just mildly amusing? I can't believe how many meet-cute romances I've rewatched, not remembering that one or both of the main characters were married to other people at the start of the movie.
It's making me feel a little better about our current culture, at least.
Thanks to Jen at Conversion Diary!
Finally, after two years of toil and uncertainty, Lucy's quilt is finished! It's not exactly perfect; I ditched my original plan for the blanket and ended up cobbling together what I had already done with scraps from other abandoned projects.
2: Now I have to do one for everybody
Notice the other waif in this picture, looking on with pathetic longing? Suddenly, everyone is dying for their own blanket. I don't know how I am going to handle this, draw straws? Beth thinks I should pick based on age; I think she's afraid that she will be grown and gone by the time I get around to her blanket. I have promised a blanket to everyone sometime before they leave for college, but I have to say that I am a little daunted by the amount of time this is going to take.
3: Here's a little slice of life with Ruth
She's pretty scattered, focus-wise. Isn't it cute, though, how she waves to people out the window? She does this all the time. And Mom - she really likes the book! It's significant that she keeps coming back to it.
4: The cooler weather is here to stay which means, ugh, the changing of the clothes
I want to curl up into a ball and die.
I wonder how other mothers with lots of kids do this. Is the pain and suffering unavoidable? Or is it avoidable, and I'm just doing it wrong?
I wish we could go back to only having one, two outfits at most. It would be so much easier.
5: Did you know that facial-recognition deficiency is, like, a thing?
It is! I've recently read two separate accounts of people mentioning that they have trouble remembering faces. It's a relief to know that I am not the only freak pretending to know who has just stopped them in the grocery store.
This is how bad it's become for me: I was in Target last week, lugging Ruth in my arms and trying to navigate a cart overladen with two huge stools (which are working out great for our homework table! I am a genius!) I saw, over the stools, a glimpse of someone at the end of the aisle, looking directly at me. I knew that her face was familiar somehow, but I ducked back behind the stool to give myself time. I knew it was a familiar face, not just someone I see once in a while. Still, though, I had no idea who she was or how I knew her. Finally, near the end of the aisle myself, I sighed and came out from behind my hiding spot to face the music.
It was mirror. The face I had not recognized was my own face.
All this is to say: If I run in to you, and can't immediately remember who you are, please don't take it personally. I really can't help it.
6: The nights that Ruth does not sleep well teach me something
I really need sleep. Babies should not try to play peek-a-boo at 3am, it's mean. And Middle Schools should not open so early, some of us like to sleep in.
7: I've been on an old movie kick and: what's with all the scandalous behavior?!?!
How did I never notice before how so many of these old movies (like, 40s and early 50s) treat adultery like something that's just mildly amusing? I can't believe how many meet-cute romances I've rewatched, not remembering that one or both of the main characters were married to other people at the start of the movie.
It's making me feel a little better about our current culture, at least.
Thanks to Jen at Conversion Diary!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
One? Already?!?!
I can't believe this little booger is one, already.
She is an extremely quirky kid. This is one of her default faces, and I worry that people who do not know this is her "teasing face" might think she is Rosemary's Baby.
Ruth is also extremely sweet and loving. She gives us all hugs and kisses all day long. If I catch her doing something she knows she shouldn't (like touching the laptop) she will immediately bend down and give the offending object (like the laptop) the head-bump that for her means a hug and a kiss.
She loves her family so much! When the girls come downstairs in the morning, Ruth will literally cheer for them, waving her arms and squealing with delight. When Chris comes home from work, Ruth can tell by the sound of his footsteps and she goes off like a shotgun, crawling with abandon over any object that might be in her way, to get to her Daddy.
Ruth is a people-person. She loves to wave to strangers, and she will often work very hard to catch the attention of sour-faced people who ignore her. I've witnessed her coax smiles out of surly teenage stockboys, leather-clad bikers, gigantic gangster-looking guys hanging around streetcorners and bitter faced old ladies. This kid is a miracle worker.
She also has a dark side. When mildly upset, she will shriek in a register that can only fully be heard by dogs. If she is slightly annoyed, she will cry big crocodile tears that would break your heart if you only weren't aware that, by 7 months of age, this baby was already a consummate actress.
She makes us all laugh every day, and she torments us all with her constant desire to get into the good stuff. She can tell the difference between banana slices and donuts, and woe to anybody who thinks they can sneak it past her. She is so, so loving - if anyone is sad you can bet that Ruth will be right there, bending down her big bobble-head to give them a hug. She has a sense of humor, loving to shake her head "no" to solicit laughs or to play hide-and-seek when she should be going to sleep. She has a way of concentrating her face, a look that says, "Yes, I know that you have this or that on your mind, but can't you see how hilarious I am?" and it works, every time. We laugh, and forget our cares, and are so thankful to have this crazy baby in our lives.
Ruth is a people-person. She loves to wave to strangers, and she will often work very hard to catch the attention of sour-faced people who ignore her. I've witnessed her coax smiles out of surly teenage stockboys, leather-clad bikers, gigantic gangster-looking guys hanging around streetcorners and bitter faced old ladies. This kid is a miracle worker.She also has a dark side. When mildly upset, she will shriek in a register that can only fully be heard by dogs. If she is slightly annoyed, she will cry big crocodile tears that would break your heart if you only weren't aware that, by 7 months of age, this baby was already a consummate actress.
She makes us all laugh every day, and she torments us all with her constant desire to get into the good stuff. She can tell the difference between banana slices and donuts, and woe to anybody who thinks they can sneak it past her. She is so, so loving - if anyone is sad you can bet that Ruth will be right there, bending down her big bobble-head to give them a hug. She has a sense of humor, loving to shake her head "no" to solicit laughs or to play hide-and-seek when she should be going to sleep. She has a way of concentrating her face, a look that says, "Yes, I know that you have this or that on your mind, but can't you see how hilarious I am?" and it works, every time. We laugh, and forget our cares, and are so thankful to have this crazy baby in our lives.
Seriously, though, why is this her default face???
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Evangelizing
We were not having a great morning.
Ruth woke up at 6am and then refused to take a nap, despite her weary red eyes and body-racking yawns. The older girls had been told to straighten up the top floor, but the situation up there quickly devolved into an unacceptable atmosphere. Things were confiscated, tears were shed, wails were wailed.
Add to this attractive scenario a front yard that is also devolving, due to the weeds which clearly have a personal vendetta against us and an overflowing recycling bin. It's been....I can't even remember, weeks? since we remembered to set the stupid bin out, so it is now more a mountain of trash than an identifiable bin. I have multiple secondary boxes that I keep in the kitchen, but I tend to keep the milk jugs (which are sealable) and other contained, non-sticky stuff in those while the beer bottles still get tossed outside in the overflowing bin. In other words, if you looked at our recycling bin right now (which isn't even an official recycling bin, it's just a blue plastic container with a big X duct-taped on the side) we totally look like alcoholics.
So, to recap: cranky, exhausted-eyed baby, wailing and crying from upstairs, and a mountain of beer bottles by the front door. This is the morning the Mormons decide to drop in.
I, being upstairs amidst the crying and wailing, actually missed it. Chris answered the door, trashy baby in hand, and politely (over the sounds of torture from directly overhead) let the women know that we are already a praying sort of family and that now (you know, with all the screaming) was not really a good time to discuss things further.
The women left without exactly making it clear whether they will be returning or not, but when Chris told me all this I had to wonder: did they guess we are Catholic?
I kind of hope not.
Ruth woke up at 6am and then refused to take a nap, despite her weary red eyes and body-racking yawns. The older girls had been told to straighten up the top floor, but the situation up there quickly devolved into an unacceptable atmosphere. Things were confiscated, tears were shed, wails were wailed.
Add to this attractive scenario a front yard that is also devolving, due to the weeds which clearly have a personal vendetta against us and an overflowing recycling bin. It's been....I can't even remember, weeks? since we remembered to set the stupid bin out, so it is now more a mountain of trash than an identifiable bin. I have multiple secondary boxes that I keep in the kitchen, but I tend to keep the milk jugs (which are sealable) and other contained, non-sticky stuff in those while the beer bottles still get tossed outside in the overflowing bin. In other words, if you looked at our recycling bin right now (which isn't even an official recycling bin, it's just a blue plastic container with a big X duct-taped on the side) we totally look like alcoholics.
So, to recap: cranky, exhausted-eyed baby, wailing and crying from upstairs, and a mountain of beer bottles by the front door. This is the morning the Mormons decide to drop in.
I, being upstairs amidst the crying and wailing, actually missed it. Chris answered the door, trashy baby in hand, and politely (over the sounds of torture from directly overhead) let the women know that we are already a praying sort of family and that now (you know, with all the screaming) was not really a good time to discuss things further.
The women left without exactly making it clear whether they will be returning or not, but when Chris told me all this I had to wonder: did they guess we are Catholic?
I kind of hope not.
Friday, September 16, 2011
7 Quick Takes, wherein Lucy is released into the Wild
-1-
Lucy started Preschool this past Tuesday. It's at a local Nature Center, and I think it is going to be a good fit for her. I haven't, in general, been a big fan of Preschool but I could tell that Lucy both needed a primer on how to behave in a classroom and that she was desperate to go to school like her big sisters. This program is only two days a week and is "nature-based" which translates into playing outside and taking a lot of walks, with some visits from awesome animals thrown in. (They've already visited the barn owls they keep on the grounds and have begun to raise horseshoe crabs!)
-2-
We are wondering if this will signal the end of the Imaginary Classroom: Rosie,who lives above a coffee-shop and has hot chocolate every morning, the wise teacher Mrs. Orangie Power, who once died of a broken leg and whispered to Lucy with her last breath, "Don't be afraid of ghosts!" (Mrs. Orangie Power eventually resurrected, although the details on that are unclear.) I will be kind of sad to see it all go. It's been fun to see the crazy things Lucy comes up with, like her 'second-best' imaginary friend Amy, who had a pet stink bug, not to mention the fact that Orangie Power is a freaking awesome name and it makes me happy every time I hear Lucy say it.
-3-
After her first day of school, Lucy said that she was a little homesick but had fun. (She also told me all the details so that I could tell everyone else - she did not want to waste her own time repeating herself.)
The second day, when I asked her how her day was, Lucy said, "I had a lot of fun! I didn't miss you at all! Actually, I forgot you existed!"
I'm going to take that as a good sign.
-4-
Claire had an incident in lunch this week. A boy started harassing her about the size of our family, telling her that "Eight people in one family is too much!" etc. She held her own and told him that he must be unhappy with his own family if he was focusing so much on hers. (Claire, at 8, is sometimes remarkably insightful.) It all worked for the good, though, because now this boy is not allowed to sit anywhere near her during lunch. He's been a thorn in her side for years now, so I'm glad she gets a break.
Still, this is the first time any of the girls have encountered a really negative attitude towards having six sisters. Claire handled it well and didn't get unduly upset, yet still...The whole thing makes me sad.
-5-
I stole my neice and nephew for a few hours earlier this week, and I'm sorry Becky but I couldn't help myself!
I could not get him to stay still enough to take a unblurred picture, which cracks me up. He may end up wearing Minnie-Mouse shoes when he comes here, but this kid is always all-boy!
-6-
Yesterday, while I was putting Ruth to sleep and Chris was picking up the Girl Scouts, Lucy went on a rampage of sorts. She opened the Ovaltine and ate about a third of the powder with a spoon, then she went into the bathroom and ate 3 Children's Chewable Tylenol tablets.
The positives: I got to catch up with my good friends at Poison Control. The medicine cabinet was in need of a good cleaning-out anyways (I found some stuff we haven't used in close to a decade, stuff I'm mystified ever survived the move.) I have one less portion of dessert to worry about for the next week, as Lucy is most definitely cut off. Ah, and I realized that she can reach the faucet just fine so the stool (which gives her access to the medicine cabinet as well) is now comfortably nestled in storage.
-7-
I just made this blanket for friends of ours who just had a baby (incidentally also named Ruth).This is by far the best blanket I've ever made. I think I'm finally getting the hang of it! I'm also now just finishing up an epic blanket that I've been making for Lucy. I began it two years ago, so it feels good to almost be finished! I'll post a picture once it's done.
Thanks to Jen at Conversion Diary for hosting 7 Quick Takes!
Thursday, September 08, 2011
How Matt Berninger from The National almost stepped on Beth
Alternate title: How I turned out to be a worse mother than I thought
The National just came to Merriweather, and since we had three tickets, and since Katie had come along for our pilgrimage to see Mumford and Sons, and since I never quite got around to having a birthday party for Beth, we figured it was the second-eldest's turn.
We had a great time, and Beth (who, if you recall, had one previous concert experience) thoroughly enjoyed herself. Towards the end of the evening, the lead singer - as he often does- started weaving through the crowds. In a moment of pure blind instinct, I realized that he was heading our way and I grabbed Beth by the scruff of her neck and propelled her through the crowd to get her a spot up front. Thou Shalt not be Obnoxiously Pushy could reasonably be considered one of the guiding principles of my life, but apparently my principles don't hold up to the temptation of standing kind of in the vicinity of a guy in a spotlight.
Beth's view was mostly of his backside as he sung to the crowd in front of him, and even though he almost stepped on her as he turned back to the stage, and even though he almost hit her on the head with the mike when he dropped it, she was extremely excited. As I stood on the sidelines watching her, it hit me that I had just shoved my kid into a screaming throng and then abandoned her there. I was struck by two disparate thoughts: #1- that I was so instinctively willing to do something (be obnoxiously pushy) for my child that I would never have done for myself, and #2- the fact that it didn't occur to me until it was too late that throwing my kid into a howling mob like her life depended on getting close to a Rock Star wasn't really the smartest thing to do.
Anyway, she not only survived to tell the tale, it was the highlight of her night. We found this video on YouTube, much to Beth's delight. You can see her around the 26 sec mark, lower left hand corner. She's the really short person standing behind the singer.
The National just came to Merriweather, and since we had three tickets, and since Katie had come along for our pilgrimage to see Mumford and Sons, and since I never quite got around to having a birthday party for Beth, we figured it was the second-eldest's turn.
We had a great time, and Beth (who, if you recall, had one previous concert experience) thoroughly enjoyed herself. Towards the end of the evening, the lead singer - as he often does- started weaving through the crowds. In a moment of pure blind instinct, I realized that he was heading our way and I grabbed Beth by the scruff of her neck and propelled her through the crowd to get her a spot up front. Thou Shalt not be Obnoxiously Pushy could reasonably be considered one of the guiding principles of my life, but apparently my principles don't hold up to the temptation of standing kind of in the vicinity of a guy in a spotlight.
Beth's view was mostly of his backside as he sung to the crowd in front of him, and even though he almost stepped on her as he turned back to the stage, and even though he almost hit her on the head with the mike when he dropped it, she was extremely excited. As I stood on the sidelines watching her, it hit me that I had just shoved my kid into a screaming throng and then abandoned her there. I was struck by two disparate thoughts: #1- that I was so instinctively willing to do something (be obnoxiously pushy) for my child that I would never have done for myself, and #2- the fact that it didn't occur to me until it was too late that throwing my kid into a howling mob like her life depended on getting close to a Rock Star wasn't really the smartest thing to do.
Anyway, she not only survived to tell the tale, it was the highlight of her night. We found this video on YouTube, much to Beth's delight. You can see her around the 26 sec mark, lower left hand corner. She's the really short person standing behind the singer.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
One of the major benefits of having the older girls in school....
....is that the non sequiturs of Miss Lucy are easier to catch.
WARNING! The second story in this post is pretty explicit. I've actually put some thought into ways to clean it up, but there is no other way to convey the horror of that moment but to come out and say it.
1- Daddy's Girl
Not five minutes after the girls left on the bus this morning, Lucy sat down next to Ruth and I on the living room floor and said:
"So, Mommy, did you have to fight all the other girls so you could marry Daddy?"
"Fight the other girls?" I asked, not quite following.
"Yes," she said, "all the other girls wouldn't want to marry that other guy*, so did you fight them?"
I thought about it for a second, then answered,"Yes. I had to fight all the other girls, and I won."
2- Thank God there were no men at the park!
Later that same morning, we were at the park when Lucy started digging through my diaper bag.
"Hey!" she yelled out, "You have jingle bells in here!"
I was blithely chatting with another mother and nodded in her general direction, not really paying attention, but she persisted. "Try this!" she exclaimed, trying to get the attention of another little girl, "I can't get it to jingle."
I glanced at her, and then did an exact replica of a cartoon double-take. I'm pretty sure my eyes literally bugged out of my head. What Lucy was holding, what she had just unwrapped and taken out of my bag, what she was swinging wildly around and trying to give to other children was....a tampon.
3- Correct assessment of the situation
As we drove home, Lucy noticed a hitch-hiker on the side of the road. "Is that a policeman?" she asked me, "Or just some random guy?"
* I don't know who "that other guy" is, but I'd be curious to meet him.
WARNING! The second story in this post is pretty explicit. I've actually put some thought into ways to clean it up, but there is no other way to convey the horror of that moment but to come out and say it.
1- Daddy's Girl
Not five minutes after the girls left on the bus this morning, Lucy sat down next to Ruth and I on the living room floor and said:
"So, Mommy, did you have to fight all the other girls so you could marry Daddy?"
"Fight the other girls?" I asked, not quite following.
"Yes," she said, "all the other girls wouldn't want to marry that other guy*, so did you fight them?"
I thought about it for a second, then answered,"Yes. I had to fight all the other girls, and I won."
2- Thank God there were no men at the park!
Later that same morning, we were at the park when Lucy started digging through my diaper bag.
"Hey!" she yelled out, "You have jingle bells in here!"
I was blithely chatting with another mother and nodded in her general direction, not really paying attention, but she persisted. "Try this!" she exclaimed, trying to get the attention of another little girl, "I can't get it to jingle."
I glanced at her, and then did an exact replica of a cartoon double-take. I'm pretty sure my eyes literally bugged out of my head. What Lucy was holding, what she had just unwrapped and taken out of my bag, what she was swinging wildly around and trying to give to other children was....a tampon.
3- Correct assessment of the situation
As we drove home, Lucy noticed a hitch-hiker on the side of the road. "Is that a policeman?" she asked me, "Or just some random guy?"
* I don't know who "that other guy" is, but I'd be curious to meet him.
First day of school
Above: our traditional "spa day" before the start of school.
Below: the elementary girls waiting for the bus
We were beginning to think this day would never come, as school was canceled on Monday and then Tuesday. I think the girls were a little more nervous than usual because of the delays, but they were ready and all set to go in record time and the morning went as smoothly as it could. Now Lucy and I are just puttering around the house while Ruth naps and we await their return, to hear how it all went!
Below: the elementary girls waiting for the bus
We were beginning to think this day would never come, as school was canceled on Monday and then Tuesday. I think the girls were a little more nervous than usual because of the delays, but they were ready and all set to go in record time and the morning went as smoothly as it could. Now Lucy and I are just puttering around the house while Ruth naps and we await their return, to hear how it all went!
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