Turkeys

This Thanksgiving, I had a lot to be grateful for. I got to go to my mom's house for Thanksgiving dinner for the first time since I got married ten years ago, Marc was actually able to come (a miracle!), and we had gorgeous weather so the boys could play outside a lot during our visit. In addition to my little family and my parents, my brothers Joe and Sam were also there. I wish I had more pictures, but maybe not taking them was one thing that helped keep our day simple and non-stressful. My mom and I whipped up a meal that included turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, gravy, stuffing, rolls, a twelve-layer rainbow jello, fresh cranberry salad, pumpkin pie and chocolate pie. It was all good. In the evening, when it got chilly, my dad lit a fire in the fireplace. I loved the smell of the burning wood and the boys were mesmerized by the flames. It made me think of my childhood and other chilly evenings by the fireplace. I am so thankful for both the family I grew up in and the family Marc and I are raising now and for this fifth little boy who will be joining us soon. Anyway, I did want to share just a handful of pictures of our little Turkeys from our Thanksgiving visit:

My boys are totally spoiled in the pancake department. They always want different shapes. I was very impressed with these Turkey pancakes I made on Thanksgiving morning. My boys were not. They informed me that these definitely looked like bunnies.

My brother, Sam, made this gear for David John to dress up in out of cardboard and duct tape. If anyone needs to quell a riot, David John is ready for your call.

 

Here are all four Turkeys or are they fierce warriors? I'm not sure.

My mom had a little mini-party for the twins since she wouldn't be able to come to their actual birthday party the following week.

They played pin the nose on the pumpkin. Benjamin insisted on putting on his own blindfold. His nose placement was impeccable. I wonder what his secret was?

Gabriel loved to go outside and then warm his toes by the fire. May we all be so grateful for the simple joys in life.

Birthday Boys

Five years ago, today, I was being wheeled into the OR for an emergency C-section to deliver my little (and I mean little) twin boys. I remember the nurses saying, as they pushed my bed down the hallway, "Get ready for kindergarten! Time will go much faster than you think." While the boys aren't in kindergarten just yet, it is hard to believe that they are five. I will not pretend that there are not days or sometimes even hours that seem to drag on for an eternity. Take, for example, the entire winter when they were two years old. That was rough. The point is, the days are long but the years go by so fast. I love and adore these boys. I felt frightened and ecstatic and overwhelmed and grateful when they were born and I'm not sure that my feelings have changed that much. I am so grateful for them, so ecstatic when they learn new things or having an outstanding day but I am also frightened and overwhelmed with the responsibility for raising these two incredible people. Happy Birthday Gabriel and Elijah!

Halloween Take 2

So, remember how Halloween was cancelled and rescheduled? For a day in November? This is what we did on New Halloween weekend.
We started Saturday out right with chocolate chip BOO pancakes. Yum.

That night, we made gruesome spaghetti spiders with blood sauce. Bwahaha!

The boys contributed their own scary ideas- like hanging stuffed animal carcasses from their bunkbed...

...or making mutated potato head monsters!

We touched up and reinforced the awesome guitars for beggar's night on Sunday.

Thankfully, our friends Carla, Kevin and Ben came over for dinner and to help with the trick-or-treating.  The boys scored some serious loot and having a one-to-one adult to child ratio was amazing! Carla got this shot of all four of them in our neighbor's "graveyard".

The only thing that would have made it better was if we could get the boys to sing in four-part harmony. We did manage to get Gabe and David John to each sing a few bars of some Beatles songs. The boys were pretty tired by the time we walked home. I'm pretty sure they would say that it was a "hard day's night".

What the Belly Belies

Being pregnant is a very strange thing to do.
This is what I have concluded after a lot of pondering on the subject. Since this is our last pregnancy, barring a flashing neon sign from Heaven and another fertility miracle, I have really been feeling the need to write something down about the experience especially because pregnancy seems to be one of those things that I conveniently get amnesia about.
I think because it was so hard for us to achieve pregnancy at first, all I really remember about it in between pregnancies are the euphoric feelings that come with the knowledge that a new little person will be joining our family. I forget about the bizarre and the difficult that come with the lovely and wonderful.
Marc, on the other hand, remembers it all. He reminds me that, yes, I absolutely did feel this sick last time. Yes, I was this crazy and cried every time I saw a remotely sappy commercial. Yes, I did get this big and no, I am not fat. Marc is a very patient man.
Anyway, setting out on this last pregnancy journey, I was determined to really Enjoy It. You know, not complain or feel yucky but just really live it up. As part of this plan, I decided to have a basketball belly. You know what I'm talking about. You see these adorable pregnant women who literally look as though they have shoved a regulation men's basketball under their shirt. No other part of their body seems to have been affected by pregnancy at all. This time, I was going to be one of those women. I counted calories, I made healthy choices, I worked out. I even denied myself some of my intense food cravings.
It didn't work. Perhaps having a basketball belly is a genetic trait like cleft chins or attached earlobes. My body seems to have decided that it prefers a model of carrying a baby that we will call the "wrap-around porch" look. In this model, every part of your body between your neck and your calves looks like it is pregnant. My boys seem to recognize this. David John has stated several times that it looks like there is more than one baby in there, and he was not always pointing to my belly. Thank you, son.
The second part of my quest to fully Enjoy It was to really revel in all the little fluttery baby movements you can feel as the baby gets bigger. In this, I think I have been mostly successful. I generally enjoy the nudges and little kicks and sometimes the timing of his movements is uncanny. I often feel as though he is responding to a joke or a comment or a song. It helps me to feel as though there is really a budding personality inside his tiny body. There are other times, however, when the movements are a little less enjoyable. I don't get angry or irritated really but sometimes it is just uncomfortable. It's as though a new roommate has moved in who doesn't pay any rent or even help with the food or utilities but feels that he has the right to rearrange all the furniture (aka internal organs). Marc assures me this is not the case, but I always imagine that when doctors do a c-section delivery there are frequently conversations like this, "What the?!? How did THAT get THERE?" and then they have to put everything back where it belongs before sewing everything back up. I am pretty sure that's how it happened when I had the twins despite Marc's version of events.
Part three of my three-part Enjoying It plan was not to be as emotional this time. I confess on this point that I am an epic failure. I am one emotional momma. To be fair, the majority of this pregnancy is taking place during two of Cleveland's least sunny seasons Almost Winter and Winter. The sun disappears for weeks at a time and even grown men start crying about random things. I came to the conclusion that I was not doing well on this point when I started crying over a Verizon cell phone commercial I saw while watching a show on Hulu. Recently, I burst into tears because Marc asked me if I had rotated the toys recently. I became irrationally upset when he made another pitcher of orange juice even though we already had one in the fridge. Just today, I got all choked up while Marc was showing the boys youtube clips of space shuttles launching right after they built some awesome shuttles and launchpads with their blocks. I couldn't help it. I started thinking about American ingenuity and brave men and women and about how Marc is such an awesome dad to take time to play with blocks when he just got home from back-to-back 14 and 24 hour shifts. Sometimes, I cry because I am frustrated that I cry so much. So, despite my best efforts I am still volatile but I am trying to just relax and laugh at myself and enjoy the roller-coaster ride even if I can't be happy all the time. Being pregnant is a crazy thing to do. It is hilarious and embarrassing, hard and tedious, weird and wild but also amazing. Exciting. Incredible. Beautiful.

A Very Merry UnHalloween

Thanks to hurricane or tropical storm Sandy, whatever you want to call her she's not very nice, we are not having Halloween today. You can read it for yourself on our community website: "Halloween has been cancelled and rescheduled for Sunday, November 4th." Now, other communities just rescheduled their trick-or-treating or beggar's night but South Euclid just cancelled the whole darn thing. I wonder if I will get a citation for those pumpkins sitting on my porch....
Anyway, even though it is not Halloween here, I realize that it may still be Halloween for our friends and family so I thought I'd post some pictures of the Halloween fun we've been having over the past week.

Last Thursday, the boys had their preschool fall festival which always includes a costume parade. This year, Gabe's class made pig costumes and Elijah and David John's classes (they have the same teacher, David John goes in the morning and Elijah in the afternoon) made owl costumes. The boys were very proud of their work and I thought they looked pretty stinkin' cute.

 

On Thursday the boys also picked out their pumpkins which we carved on Sunday. It is always a labor of love to carve their detailed little drawings, especially when you are being heckled about taking such a long time to carve something that only took them a couple of minutes to draw. Benjamin used our plastic pumpkin pieces again this year (after he pushed his pumpkin off the table and caused it to almost split in half). The older boys noted that it looked the same as last year. I said, "Really? He chose all of the pieces again. There's no way he chose the exact same ones." I went back and looked at the picture from last year. Sure enough, all of the pieces were the same except one. I guess he has a very distinct sense of taste when it comes to plastic pumpkin pieces.
Here is Benjamin and his pumpkin he chose before...

...and after.

Just for fun, here he is with his pumpkin last year. Uncanny.

This is David John's before...

...and after. He drew a pumpkin on his pumpkin. Yes, that is a five o'clock shadow on the pumpkin's cheek. His pumpkin had hair and a lopsided beard.

Here is Elijah with his massive, very thick, difficult to carve pumpkin:

I love the face he drew. The nose is supposed to be leaf-shaped. I'm not sure if I captured it quite right. The little shape to the left and slightly beneath the nose is the mustache.

Finally, here is Gabriel with his gigantic pumpkin before...

...and after. Gabriel wanted to make his into a pie, but settled for drawing this really cute pumpkin person instead. After I carved it, he said, "Mom! It looks like it has three eyes instead of a nose!" I replied, "Honey, I cut out exactly what you drew. You drew it that way." Pause. Then he said, "Oh, well I meant for it to look that way. It's more spooky."

On Saturday, we went to Boo! at the Zoo. I chose not to take the camera so that we could enjoy ourselves without worrying about getting pictures. It was dark and rainy anyway. Before we left, we got a picture of the boys in their costumes. Get ready for the cutest picture of the Beatles ever! (A big thanks to the Evans who helped me make these awesome instruments.)

From left to right that's John, George, Paul and Ringo. We've been listening to Beatles music a lot in preparation. Favorites are "I Want to Hold Your Hand", "Drive My Car", "Love Me Do" and "Yellow Submarine". I hope everyone appreciates our sacrifice in letting our boys' hair get shaggy so we could give them awesome Beatles haircuts just before Halloween. We sure love our fab four and the boys are looking forward to dressing up again on what we will call "New Halloween" on November 4th.

Give Me Five

I get a lot of comments now that I am very obviously pregnant about the insanity of having a fifth child, especially when our other little guys are so young. If you read my previous blog post, you may be one of those people questioning my mental integrity. I confess to also having days when I wonder just how I am going to manage being the mother of five. So, for everyone's sake, I wanted to post a few of the pictures we've taken this month that feature all four of my little people. There are so many moments on so many days that are just so good. When we have those moments and when I look at these pictures I ask myself, "How could we resist having just one more?" So bring it on. Give me five.

One of Those Days

Today was one of those days. Some days are just like that, I guess.
Some days, you have to go to Home Depot to get a new mounting bracket for a light fixture you are trying to replace in the hallway. Some days, you have three children with you (one is at preschool). Two of those children may be completely fascinated by all of the shiny nuts, bolts and washers arrayed in manly looking containers in the hardware area. Some days, they may want to grab handfuls and toss them into the air or make their own special hardware mix while you are looking for the right bracket. Some days, your 18-month-old might refuse to sit in the child seat of the shopping cart. He also may not want to sit in the basket. He might not want to walk either, or be held. He may insist on standing, precariously, with one foot on the handle of the shopping cart and the other on the plastic child seat like some crazy pirate captain in the prow of his ship. Some days, he might scream loudly and continuously while you try to wrestle him back into the seat, monitor the twins, look for the bracket and push the cart at the same time. Those screams may echo weirdly in the warehouse style store. You might run into people you barely know and who will likely now judge you on the echoing screams emanating from the person in your cart. Some days, you might be asked repeatedly by store employees to control your semi-standing, screaming child. You may have to just smile apologetically and ignore them while you check out, weary but victorious, with the appropriate mounting bracket.
On one of those days, you may also have to go to Walmart because it is right next to Home Depot and because you need a toddler mattress, vitamins and craft paint. You may only have thirty minutes to complete the shopping trip because now it is almost time to pick up child number four from preschool. To your great relief, even on one of those days, your children may be well behaved. However, the store only carries toddler mattresses decorated with pink castles and tiaras. Some days, the world does not seem to care that you only have boys in your house. Some day, those boys will likely be talking to their therapists about how their trouble started when they had to sleep on a mattress decorated with pink castles and tiaras. Some days, you buy the girly mattress anyway because you tell yourself that you are a girl and it is okay to have some girly things in the house and frankly you are too exhausted to even think about going to another store to look at toddler mattresses. Some days, you just get your craft paint, your vitamins, your pink mattress and you check out.
Some days, your 18-month-old is so happy holding the bag with the vitamins and craft paint that he doesn't even complain or arch his back while you are buckling him into his carseat. You might decide to let him keep holding the bag. After all, the vitamins and the paints all have an inner seal that he can't open even if he manages to twist the lids off.
On one of those days, the acrylic non-washable craft paints may not have an inner seal like you thought they did. You might learn this when you pull up to the preschool pick-up line and hop out of the van to pass out some fruit snacks to the boys because they were so good in Walmart and you are so happy not to be running late to pick up your 3-year-old. Some days, you open the van door and scream "Benjamin! No!" because you see that he has dumped the entire bottle of ivory paint into his lap and carseat. It may be a rare warm fall day, so all the other parents have their windows open and hear you yelling at your child. Some days, there is just nothing you can do to prevent an entire outfit and carseat from being ruined. Some days, little ivory fingerprints might appear all over your car because you have to get your child out of his carseat to save his shoes and assess the damage. He, of course, manages to inflict maximum damage even though you thought you cleaned his hands with a wet wipe.
Some days, you may go home for lunch and realize that you can't clean the carseat right now because you still have to take the twins to and from afternoon preschool and the 18-month-old has to ride in something. There is not enough time to uninstall, disassemble, wash, dry, reassemble and reinstall the carseat. This means that of the rest of the day the 18-month-old may sit on a slightly damp, painty towel wearing only his diaper and an ivory colored hoodie in order to prevent any more ruined outfits.
On one of those days, you might also discover, during lunchtime, that two very large holes have appeared in your guest room sheets. These holes look like they were cut by a scissor-wielding 4-year-old. They were. The guilty party's twin may want to take the cut out pieces for show-and-tell so he can tell about how he makes good choices and his brother makes bad choices. Some days, you just say no.
Some days, when you have finally dropped the twins off at preschool and put the 18-month-old down for a nap you finally get to enjoy some cuddle time with your 3-year-old. Some days, he might choose this tender moment to inform you that you need a nose job. "Mom, your nose is a little bit cute but if you go to the doctors you can get a nose that is so much cute!" Some days, you wonder who your son hangs out with at preschool and if their moms have noses that are "so much cute".
On one of those days, the 18-month-old may wake up far too early from his nap. He will spend the rest of the day making the sound of ultimate suffering but at a higher eardrum-shattering pitch. He might make this sound anytime someone touches him, touches a toy he is holding, picks up something he wanted to pick up, looks at him the wrong way, or breathes in his general direction. Some days, after you bring the twins home from school everyone might fight. A lot. About nothing. Some days, you will put the gate up in the kitchen and try to at least unload the dishwasher so you can make dinner. You may listen to the angry, noisy chaos that is currently your house and wonder if you could record it and sell the sound track to the Chinese government to help them sell their one-child policy or perhaps to high school health teachers who are trying to convince teens of the value of abstinence. Some days, it is hard to see the humor in the thick of the moment. Some days you might even cry, but that's okay. Every day is not one of those days. Besides, when you've had one of those days there is nothing sweeter than the sound of your husband opening the door when he comes home from work. Nothing sweeter, except maybe when he says "Hi, honey. It sounds like you had a rough day. I brought home dinner." Some days, you just might feel incredibly blessed.