Halloween 2011

This year we had an angel, a mummy and a sniper. I wore a Cat in the Hat hat and Patrick chose the elusive "Dad" costume. We left a bowl of candy on our doorstep with a note "please take ONE" and headed out to have fun with a couple of other families.

The girls bounced from house to house and the adults meandered on the sidewalks chatting or tossing a football in the street. No mittens were even needed because the weather was actually NICE on Halloween! Go figure. It was a little strange to walk without even knowing where the boys were. This was the first year that they REALLY went out without the adults. As in, they ran off into the night and we had no idea where they were the entire time. When we returned home to an empty house and a dark sky, we all did a double take. What is the protocol? Do we just... wait? They didn't have a set time to return or even a watch to know if they were "late". So.... What now? The dads went out and were back in a few minutes - the boys were only around the corner, emptying the last of the neighbor's buckets of candy. Our neighborhood's treat hours are EARLY (as in, ending at 6:00 PM. Can you freaking believe that?), so we had plenty of time to hit the local haunted house. Remembering the terror that Evan experienced last year, he opted to sit it out. The rest of the gang excitedly ventured into the backyard of DOOM.

And Corinne came out, sobbing and barnacled to her daddy's chest. You'd think we'd learn... You'd think we'd learn...

No photos right now because the old computer is a little grumpy and we don't want to upset her by asking for extra memory or anything trivial like that.

I MEAN my good, sweet, awesome computer... (stroking my monitor in hopes that she isn't reading my blog...)

A Wednesday morning

My coffee is cooling off, again, and I wait for the sounds of my kids as they awaken at their own rates. I am, once again, grateful for this graceful beginning of our days. I struggle to remember what it was like before we homeschooled. What the mornings were. The rushing. The perpetual reminders to keep moving, keep eating, get dressed, Hurry Up!

No time for slowly waking up and stretching like cats.

Now, every day seems like a gift of Time. A gift of lessened stress. A gift that won't last forever. Like those precious days of my eldest's baby years, this stage is in full swing. We are comfortable within it and have become Good at it. This is usually the marker for a Big Change in our lives. When Life becomes comfortable, the universe likes to throw a couple of dice at you and see what happens.

So, I continue to relish these moments of easy homeschooling life. A 7th grader, a 4th grader and a kindergartener... So lovely and smooth...

Evan has just stumbled into the kitchen at 8:30 am and is reading the directions on the sausage box. The same boy who struggled to learn to read is now navigating the confusing world of microwave instructions. Yes. Microwaveable sausage. Yum.

My day has officially begun.

The coffee will have to be heated up, again.



This is my first Just Write for Heather's site... See others here.

If you can't find me, I'm probably at the gym...

Last night, I had an epiphany. Or a "moment" of some sorts. Something happened in the universe or the air or my digestive system because I could easily see the future...

Yesterday, on her sixth birthday, Corinne had her first gymnastics class.

And folks? It felt... right.

After months, no, YEARS, of begging for gymnastics, we finally consented and signed her up. She is using her birthday money from Grandpa to fund most of the cost, because she's already in 2 dance classes and we have 3 children and that money tree I planted still hasn't produced more than $13 bucks. When she would plead and plead for gymnastics classes, I figured she was just being her usual go-getter-self who wants to try everything under the sun. But when my kindergartener (who totally understands the value of money and how rarely she has so much in her possession) wants to spend her entire birthday check on something? You realize that she is serious.

We were running a bit late, and I had paperwork to fill out, so the secretary walked her back into the gym. I finally eased myself onto the parents' bleachers and had to squint to find her little black leotard in the massive sea of flipping little girls.

And there she was. Stretching her legs beside the other children. Jumping on the trampoline, fingers extended. Flipping over the bars, pointing her toes. Giggling with the girls in line. And looking absolutely at home...

A feeling rushed over me. I swear to God that this has never really happened to me before, but as she raced to me at the end of class, I just knew that I would be spending large quantities of my life sitting on bleachers, cheering her on.

"How was it? Did you like it?"

Sweaty and pink-cheeked, she grinned her toothless smile and nodded. She hugged me till I nearly lost my breath and said,

"It was the Best! Day! EVER!!! When is my next class?!?"

Six

I keep singing this song today...



We bought six doughnuts at Dunkin Donuts to celebrate her sixth trip around the sun...
We have six days until her party where she would like to have a rock and roll/wedding cake with tiers, flowers and sparkles, but no pink, please.

This kid. This little girl is freaking awesome. She is the one who woke up last night when I was having a bad, bad dream (complete with crying and shouting). She is the one who comforted me and, in desperation to make me feel better when stroking my head didn't work, flung herself upon me and woke me up. She is the one who convinced me that I wasn't holding a giant, poisonous snake in my hand. While all the men in the household slept completely unaware, the women gathered together and combined forces.

She is super strong and crazy sensitive. Brilliant and beautiful, fearless and curious. She amazes me every day.

Five!

Four

Three!

Two

One!

Goodness Surrounds Me

I paused at the sink today.

With soap up to my elbows, I stared out my window as a brutally fierce gust of wind ripped the last of my beloved birch leaves far from my window's view.

I paused and was still and appreciated what was happening all around me:

Justin was reading at the table while not-so-silently slurping his chicken noodle soup.

Evan quietly played on the family room floor, arranging army men in an elaborate battle of Good and Evil.

Corinne had constructed a massive fort of blankets and pillows over the heating vent so that she could read with toasty warm feet.

Patrick had called; he was on his way home. We were all... happy.
Content.
Healthy.
Alive.
Whole.

Quite simply, my blessings cause my heart to seize and throat to close and eyes to tear.I love my family.

I love my life.

Not Present

I feel as though I've been hijacked.

My blog.

My brain.

My computer.*

I won't say that I "Need a break" but I will say that I am feeling a little... uninspired.

I think I'm going to enjoy this pre-winter wind storm and just hunker down in my pj's today.

Again.


* Having a 12 year old who loves the computer is really starting to cramp my style.

Surprise, surprise

4:45 Me, calling Patrick: Hey honey! How was lunch with your mom? Are you on your way back yet? Oh, you're on the train? Awesome. Can you let me know when you're almost home in case I need some milk? I mean, I might go out for it and not need it, but I might need it. So can you call me to let me know when you're near the store? Buh-bye.

5:10 Me, calling Patrick: Hey honey! Where are you at? Oh. On the road, still? Yeah, that makes sense, heh, heh. Um, I just wanted to remind you to call me about the milk, remember? Because I want to make sure that we have milk for dinner. The dinner that I'm making. And I'm waiting for you to be close so I can throw the noodles in the water. So, um, call me, ok? Love you! Bye.

5:35 Me, calling Patrick: Hey honey! I think I definitely need that milk. But still call me, ok? How was your time with your mom? Did you have a good time? Oh, hey, I have to go. But CALL ME, ok? Love you! Buh-bye.

5:50 Me, calling Patrick: On second thought, I don't need any milk. Just come home. Where are you? Like 10 minutes or 5 minutes or 1 minute away? I just need to know for the, um, noodles, remember? Oh? 5 minutes? Ok. I'll throw them in now, then. See you soon. Bye!

5:51 Me, stage-yelling at a room full of people: Shhhhh!!!! Shhhh!!!! SHHHHH!!!!!!

5:56 35 people shouting at the top of their lungs as Patrick walks in the front door:

Surprise!! Happy Birthday!!

I can't believe we pulled it off. Especially after all of my super-spy-phone-calls. Seeing as how he practically fell back out the door, I do believe that he was sufficiently surprised.

Happy Birthday, honey!

Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!
www.onetruemedia.com

Videography by my 12 year old. It gets shaky when he decides to hug his dad halfway through but soldier on: it gets smooth again...

A photo post because it's 3 am and frankly? My kids are gorgeous.

Did you realize it's Fall?

Even though it's been about 80 degrees for the past week or so?

The colors are phenomenal, and the festivals are in full swing.

I'm getting better at that whole arm-length self-portrait avoiding-the-armpit picture, don't you think?

My favorite season. Besides winter.
And spring.
And I kinda adore summer, too...

I'm such a Midwesterner.* I can't survive within one season for too long!

Am I the only one who gets bored with one season after 3 or 4 months? What's your favorite season? Why?**

*Speaking of the Midwest, I've got two giveaways for fun outings for Chicagoland people on my review blog.

**Good Lord. I've been giving Justin too many essay prompts and now my blogging is like one huge schoolwork assignment...

It takes thick skin to be a parent to a pre-teen...

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Well, you were happy a few minutes ago; what changed? We haven't even been talking or anything!"

"Noth. Ing."

I can only imagine how frustrated my mother must have been. I was 11 years old and pissed off at myself for not having enough courage to ask for the one thing that would alter my life at school. The one thing that would supposedly stop the teasing and poking and laughter. My own, personal life jacket for pre-teendom....

A Bra.

Not that I physically needed a bra. Not me. Not at 11. And there was the clincher. I didn't need it, but every other girl in class had one. As is common for Middle Schoolers, kids that have something different about them must be singled out and forced to conform.

I hated walking into my class everyday, knowing that my "friends" would surround me and feel my back to see if I was wearing a bra yet. Yep. They felt my back. No matter how I tried to angle my body in my chair, or stand at the end of lines. Somehow, throughout the day, I wouldn't be able to protect my back any longer and one of them would feel me up. The teasing and laughing and joking would then begin.

Let me tell you, I was a pretty crafty girl. I wore layers. I carried my backpack whenever possible. I even went so far as to wear a pair of my mother's pantyhose, pulled waaaaaay up and rolled into a bump so that there would appear to be a bra strap across my back. It actually worked for a little while, too! For a brief period of time in one blessed day, the teasing stopped! Until it was discovered that the "bra strap" was pantyhose and then? Then the teasing was a thousand times worse.

Why didn't I just ASK for a bra? I don't know. I had a conversation built up in my head that I would hold with my mom. I prepped myself and we were on our way to the mall and when we were there? I froze. I couldn't ask. I don't understand the reason as I know my mother would have bought me one! But I was 11 and I was scared. I tried, and tried, but the day wore on and, before I knew it, we had left the mall and were back in the car, on our way home. No bra. No end to the taunts. And a very pissed off 11 year old girl sitting beside her obviously confused mother.*

Basically, being 11 sucked. 12 was pretty horrific, too. It was confusing and messy and incredibly focused on living in The Present. Things that made me happy made me Extremely! Happy! while things that were less than great were the End of the World. Hormones careened out of control like a roller coaster in the night, and I was just along for the ride.

So, when my 12 year old wakes up, fully rested, in a house where he has a family that loves him, food to eat, and countless privileges all around him, but is still angry or disgusted with his life? I try to take a deep breath and remember that damn first bra. Yeah, this age pretty much sucks for most kids.**

And most parents.



*My poor mom. I put her through a lot of shit. I love you, Mom. Sorry.

**Don't get me wrong: there are some awesome highs to having a pre-teen. He has conversations that are actually interesting. I can count on him to be somewhat responsible and help out around the house. There is a lot of good in having a 12 year old. I have to remind myself of those good things when I am met with a harrumphing sigh and groan because I am on MY computer in the morning when he wants to play some game.

All I want is to own my own batteries. Is that asking too much?

It was gorgeous today. Absolutely breathtakingly GORGEOUS. So we (I) decided to take advantage of this warm fall day and we piled into the van to head to Cantigny Park. Cantigny is a unique, private park. It was once the home of a Colonel of the 1st Division (I believe) and he has an entire collection of tanks from around the world, exotic gardens to stroll through and a really interesting military museum dedicated to the 1st Division.

The day was simply... flourescent. The orange leaves were brighter than flames. The mums positively exploded with hues from yellow to magenta. Countless oak and maple trees showered us in a constant, rainbow flow of lazily drifting leaves.

I watched my younger two race from stick to acorn to tree branch, happily swinging and throwing and climbing. Prodding my somewhat reluctant 12 year old (I just love pre-teen angst), we made our way through the tanks, reading about their histories while Evan and Corinne climbed atop them, acting out battles and scenarios of mass destruction. It was really a lovely, lovely day...

I was SO pumped to pepper this post with pictures! The colors! The beauty of their smiles against the Autumn backdrop would be positively memorable. You would be amazed, Yes, AMAZED, by my talent at capturing the impossibly precious moments we experienced.

Alas.

Alas, alas, alas... I was foiled, once again, by the Xbox controllers and their ability to use up all of my rechargeable batteries' juice. Much swearing occurred and almost a few tears. (True story.) I guess I'll just have to hope that my mind will retain these memories without the photographic evidence I desired.

Who knew the Hallmark Channel could be so inspiring?

Freakin Hallmark movies at 3 am. Making me think and shit. Not about the movies, because they're like paperback trash for t.v., but about Life.

Oooohhhh!!! With a capital L and EVERYTHING.

Isn't it amazing and mortifying and chest-clutchingly incredible that the most minute decisions can alter a life's entire direction? I think back to moments where I LITERALLY turned left instead of right and changed the course of my life path, simply by bumping into someone or witnessing an event. When I chose to pick up the phone and accept a job, I was led to meeting Patrick. I once selected chili instead of a sandwich at the zoo which gave me food poisoning that led to the discovery of a massive tumor on my ovary, right as we were discussing the idea of baby #3. When I made that rash decision to begin a blog 5 years ago, "just to keep a journal", I never knew it would lead me to dozens of friends that exist not only online, but in my day to day, physical life. I wonder how the actions I am taking right this very moment will influence my tomorrow, my future, and my family's lives...

Because they are, you know. They're all important. Nothing is too small to discount. Every person we allow into our hearts or hold at a distance becomes a thread in our life's tapestry. Every moment of gratitude for the goodness we see around us, or desperate plea for mercy from the devastation we are struggling through is what fuels the events of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... Even in death, our influence and mark remains; through the children we raise, the works we accomplish and the energy our presence has had upon the Earth.

I sit here absolutely awestruck at the enormity of the world, the insignificance that one person can seem to have upon it, and the reality that each of us is capable of immeasurable possibilities... I am so grateful to have the love that surrounds me. For my family and friends. For each of you that reaches out and brightens my day. I am content with my life but not stagnant. There are hopefully countless adventures in my future. But if today were my last in this body, I can honestly say that I have no regrets.

This is the stuff that goes through my head, night after night after night.

And now you know why I can't sleep.

Just Another Blog Post

I was sighing a happy little sound of pleasure as I lowered myself into my desk chair with a steaming cup of coffee. And then, as seems lately typical, I promptly dumped the entire mug across my computer desk. Soaked everything, including the computer. Awesome.

Silving lining: I had a towel RIGHT THERE (because my kids don't like to put towels away) and was able to clean it up before any damage (besides another stain on the carpet) was done.

TAKE TWO.

Ahhhh... Coffee. In my mouth. Working its magic.

The season is most definitely Fall and I am loving every minute of it. I took Corinne on a bike ride yesterday to look at spooky houses and crunch through the leaves. She has gotten SO good at her bike riding! I cannot believe this is the same child who, a month ago, hadn't ridden her bike with its training wheels most of the summer. And now I have to force her and Evan to come inside after 1 or 2 hours of "p.e." to do math! They're clever, those two. They'll see me clearing the table, setting up the books, and they're out the door to practice their two-wheelers. They know how much I encourage them to be active. With the winter right around the corner, they need to be out of the house as much as possible NOW before the weather dictates what we cannot do.

Speaking of places to be other than right in my face, jumping up and down, driving me bat-crazy... We cleaned the basement! Again! Which means we should be receiving a flood down there within the next 2-3 weeks. So we have about 3 weeks to enjoy it! Huzzah. Thankfully, I did get a monumental amount of organizing and pitching done, with most of the focus being on elevating EVERYthing. And even though we didn't have any new shelving to elevate upon, I used the closet doors that we took out of Corinne's room (don't ask) and balanced them upon plastic bins. Voila! Instant shelving. I felt remarkably clever and thrifty. Even Patrick, who hates that I save big pieces of wood for "no apparent reason", was impressed. Never doubt me again, my dear.

That's about a wrap. Just me talking to the computer without any purpose or direction in mind. Maybe I can distract you with a photo?40 points if you can name that spooky creature and how Corinne made it...

Yet another story I'll treasure once she's older...

"Ayyyiiieeeeee!!! Mommy! Mommmmyyyy!!! AHHHHHH!!!! Ow! OW! OWWWWIIEE!!"

"What?!? Where are you?!? What's wrong?!?"

I dashed about my house, cursing its open-floor-plan which completely messes with the ability to judge the direction of sound, especially in a crisis.

I finally discovered my howling daughter in the upstairs bathroom, face buried in a towel, screeching with the force of forty owls.

"There's something in my EYYYEEEE!!!!"

"Ok, ok! Let me see! Let me... Let me SEE, Corinne!! I have to SEE your eye to help you! Here, let me pour some water in it!" I pried and pried but she held that towel TIGHT to her face. With the faucet on full-force, I attempted to Macgyver a few handfuls of water into the crevices of her forehead.

And then, in a moment of weakness, the towel slipped forward and her face was revealed.

Only it wasn't the sweet little face of my 5 year old daughter. Because my daughter doesn't normally have jet-black circles all around her eyes. And MY daughter generally is of a peachy complexion, instead of the mottled brown and black that covered the person in front of me.

"What were you doing?!?" I asked as I dumped cup after cup of water into her eyes.

"I...I....I.... was trying to be a ZOMMMBIIIEEE!!" she wailed.

Yep. Mascara and eye shadow found in the recesses of the bathroom cabinet were apparently too much of a temptation for this kid and she had used an entire tube on her face to get just the right effect of spookiness around the eyes. Once she realized just how much shit she would be in if she was discovered, she tried to wash it all off on her own and accidentally got a massive glob of soap in her eye.

What's killing me about it all is that if she had just ASKED, I would have let her play in that make up! It was really old and I don't care about it at all! But, because this is a recurring theme with that child, I had to send her to her bed early and without a bedtime story.

Sigh...

As I was tweeting about it (because, DUH, I am not going to NOT tweet about THAT!), I was interrupted by a sniffling apology:

"I'm sorry, Mommy... I don't know why I can't stay out of your things. I just like them SO MUCH! I promise I won't do it again!"

Ohhhh, Corinne. If only I could believe that promise!!