Scenes From The Day

February 17, 2009

It Appears That We Are Moving…

or else these thieves have some clever disguises.

Wild Life

February 15, 2009

After I had taken the photo of my son that is in the previous post my daughter grabbed one of her heart candies and held it up, demanding that I take her photo as well. I had to laugh when I saw what the candy said.

Behind her in the blurred out places in the photo is a chaos and noise that defies description. Multiple conversations happening at once. Kids cooking themselves breakfast. Running. Yelling. The refrigerator door slamming shut. Spongebob Squarepants theme song in the distance.

Wildlife. Like a zoo.

Happy Valentine’s Day

February 14, 2009

Last, but not least

February 13, 2009

(originally published August ‘05)

Being the youngest in a large family means many things. It means you get an experienced mother who has already practiced and perfected many of her parenting techniques — a mother who isn’t quick to worry, who has learned to trust her own instincts over the advice of so-called experts.

It means you get older siblings who love to make you giggle and cater to your every whim. It means infant cereal will never pass your lips. Your first solid food will be Fruit Loops you find under the kitchen table, forever spoiling you from eating Cheerios.

It means you won’t learn all the noises that barnyard animals make before you learn how to make fart noises with your armpit. It means you will probably be singing along to Coldplay, rather than Barney. It means that you will learn at an early age that everything can and will be turned into a competition and that being the rotten egg is not something good. But because you are the youngest someone will always let you beat them. Maybe. You’ll learn that the best way to get everyone’s attention is to do something funny, at least in our house.

It also means you have a completely empty baby book.

My seventh child will soon be eight months old. I see his pristine baby book sitting on the bookshelf alongside all the others and am filled with guilt.

With my firstborn, I meticulously filled in his baby book, and was very upset that there were not enough pages for me to painstakingly document his first few months. Where was I supposed to write all the cute things he did, like burp, spit up, and blink his eyes?

Things got progressively worse in the baby book department with each subsequent child.

I may not remember the exact date and time that milestones occured, but at least I remember them. I find that it doesn’t really matter much to me anymore that I document everything that happens as much as it matters that I live fully in the moment. I remember with absolute clarity the first time my youngest son smiled. I remember how all six of his older siblings gathered around and tried in earnest to make him smile again. I remember feeling complete and total joy for that one moment, a small reprieve before the next wave of post-partum depression crashed over my head. But don’t ask me the date it happened, I’d have to guess.

Not because my younger children aren’t as precious, they are. It’s just that now I am busier. Do you have any idea how much laundry I have to do every week? Or the amount of food preparation I have to do every day? I haven’t yet been able to convince my children that we should have one day per week of naked fasting.

I’m an avid photographer, so all of their babyhoods have been amply chronicled on film. Thankfully, this gives me one less thing to feel guilty about. But I have boxes of photographs that have never been put into albums. I keep saying that someday I’ll get around to it. I will, maybe. But if I don’t, when I die my children can just fight over the boxes in the attic and put the pictures into albums themselves.

In all the baby books there is a space that says, What do you hope for your child?

I never answered it in any of the books because I could never find words to encompass it all. But I have been thinking about it lately and I am going to go back and fill the identical answer in all of them:

“I hope that one day you will sit around a holiday dinner table with all your siblings and you will look around the room and feel that you were lucky to have a life where you were loved so deeply by so many. I hope you will understand that I gave you the best gift I knew how to give: the gift of siblings. I hope it’s enough.

“Oh, there is a box of photographs in the attic. Last one there is a rotten egg.”

I thought of this old post today because we were outside enjoying a brief respite from winter. I was reminded once again of how kind my children are to each other. Yes, they argue and fight sometimes, some combinations moreso than others. They can pick at each others flaws like nobody’s business, but underneath they truly love each other. Siblings keep you humble, but they are also your greatest allies.

Today was the first time in months it was warm enough outside to play baseball. The older kids played with middle ones and encouraged them, only asking them if they were blind a few times. And the a little while later, the middle ones did the same with the youngest ones.

Getting no other reward for it than this:

It has to be enough.

Forty Degrees

February 12, 2009

Must be time to play baseball.

BackTalk Debuts After a Long, Long, LONG gestation

February 11, 2009

I shamelessly copied this entire post from Lindsay. Copied as in cut and paste. Because I am a big fat copycat. Also I am tired and have a cold.

Well, after months and months and MONTHS of planning, it’s finally official. I’m a vlogger. I feel like I have given birth. To a secret baby.

Today, BlogHer debuted a new webcast called Backtalk, in which Lindsay, Kelly, Erin and I discuss what moms are buzzing about on the Internet.

In this episode, we’re talking about Facebook. Should you force your kids to friend you? How do your kids feel about the fact that you’re on Facebook? And what’s with everybody and their grandmother joining Facebook, anyway?

The whole point of Backtalk is that we want to hear what YOU have to say. That means your videos and your comments and your blog posts could very well be featured in a future episode, giving all KINDS of new readers a chance to find you and your wonderful self online! I think you all will recognize Liz, from This Full House.

I am really excited about showcasing those of you who’ve been writing your heart out on your blogs and deserve a little extra attention (You can call it Perfect Post Award withdrawal if you want…). So here’s the deal. These are a few issues coming up in future episodes- If you have a blog post that relates to them or you’d like to send us a video of yourself responding to any of these questions, please leave me a comment with your link and/or your e-mail address and hopefully it will turn up in a future show!

–What do you love about your kid’s school? What do you hate? Give me the nitty gritty. What do you think about the state of our education system right now?

–How is the economy affecting your family? Are you or your spouse out of a job? Are you saving in the event that one of you gets laid off down the road? Are you feeling anxiety or powerlessness over what’s happening?

–For those of you with one child, what are the most insensitive remarks people make about your decision to have “just one?” On the flip side, for those of you with large families, what are some of the stupidest things people have said to you about your brood? Why does family size matter so much to perfect strangers?

Leave a comment here or leave a comment over at the BlogHer Backtalk site- There’s already quite an interesting discussion there about Facebook and our kids.

The Internet Comes to Visit

February 10, 2009

Heather!

Scene: Heather and I sitting next to each other, each of us with a Blackberry

Me: You know, there are some people who would think it was rude to be texting other people while sitting together

Her: Thank god that’s not us

Me: Seriously, what is up with those people?

Her: Like they have manners and shit.

The funniest thing about this exchange? We were both texting Susan.

Here Heather is like, “Do they ever stop talking?”

This one is a pirate.

This one is flashing his gang sign. What a tough frightening gang flashing the peace sign.

And Heather saw first hand that my eldest son is in fact holding this wall up.

All the photos in this post were taken by my lovely daughter who entertained Heather and I endlessly. Especially when she screamed, “COCK! I want the cock! I love cocks!” And we explained the importance of the letter R in that word.

Finally we gave up and told her she should refer to it as a bottle top for all eternity.

My Baby and Me

February 7, 2009

Oh why does he have to grow up?

Yesterday I said to one of my older sons that I could still call Miles a baby because he had dimpled knuckles on his hands and wrist creases. I picked up his chubby little baby hand to kiss it and realized it isn’t so chubby anymore.

The dimples on his knuckles are fading. There is just the slightest hint of them now, more like memories of dimples. The hands can do things like draw, and point, and flip me the bird. Not to mention play the DS. Oddly, they can not wipe their own butt or snap their own pants.

Soon I won’t be able to carry him around anymore. Soon he won’t want to crawl into bed with me in the pre-dawn hours, his hand cupped on my face. Soon he won’t think sitting next to me on the couch is the BEST. THING. EVER and worthy of fighting his siblings to the death over.

Day 35 of 365

February 6, 2009

The River

I would drive down this road daily when we lived in our old house, a tiny 200 yr old house built on the bank of this river. I rarely have a need to drive here anymore. But when I do I am astounded at how beautiful it is.

And how peaceful it is, except for the sound of the rushing river. And how when I drove by everyday I didn’t give it more than a cursory glance.

Funny how that happens.