Beach Trip - Sept 2005

Boy, did it feel good to get out of town for a couple of days! And the kids didn't even notice we were gone (ba-da-dum). But seriously, folks, just a short(?) 3-hour drive and we left those blood-sucking mosquitoes (whoops, redundant) behind. It was worth the $100 in gasoline (2 vans, remember?). We were relieved to find that our accommodations were decent. We had reserved, sight unseen, a 3-bedroom, 2-bath trailer on a National Guard base for only $60 a night (your tax dollars at work - thanks!); so we were a tad apprehensive as to what we were going to find when we got there. Good beds, clean bathrooms, complete kitchen - well, almost complete. As we were sitting around the table eating our lunch, one of the children asked, "Hey, where's the dishwasher?" Larry didn't miss a beat - "You're looking at them," he replied.

The beach was great. The surf on Monday was so high that none of the children could get beyond the first set of breakers, which suited me just fine. Rachel was repeatedly knocked over by the waves, but she would bounce right back up again like one of those blow-up punching clowns we used to play with as kids. It was very windy, so it reminded me of Newport - particularly of Larry's Reserve Unit BBQ where we had to keep chasing down the tops of our hamburger buns as they blew off our plates. Ah, fond memories...

But I digress. I noticed a woman about a quarter-century older than me staring at us as we arrived and set up all our beach paraphernalia. I figured we had ruined her day and she'd get up and move, but she stayed to talk. Turns out she had raised 6 kids with the same age spacing as ours, but her youngest is 25 now. I'm not quite sure if she was getting nostalgic or if she stuck around to remind herself how glad she is that they're all grown-up.

The second day, we drove a few miles up the road to a state park beach - it was all natural (sand dunes, no buildings), but with bathrooms - who could ask for more? We saw porpoises (dolphins?) swimming just offshore, and we were jumping up and down and yelling and pointing to show them to the kids. Everyone else on the beach was a local, as it was the day after Labor Day, and we realized that they were looking at us funny, so we settled down. After a few hours the baby was fussy, so I took her back to our trailer early and left Larry to gather up all the beach stuff and shower/de-sand five kids. I would have felt guilty, had I not done it myself all the time 2 summers ago in Newport. It's payback time, amigos!

I can be unbelievably petty at times.

Larry took the kids out boating Tuesday afternoon. There was a huge salt-water pond on base and we could rent a rowboat for a mere $3 an hour (again, your tax dollars at work). There was also a playground next to the pond where Larry attempted to injure himself by showing the kids that he could do a flip on the rings. Brian told him he was too old to do that. My thoughts, exactly. Disability insurance is expensive, you know.

We packed up the cars Wednesday morning for the return trip (by the way, both going and returning, we hit the road at 9:50 AM - we figure that must be our set point for departures) and we couldn't understand why Rachel was so anxious to get in the van. Turns out no one had explained to her that we were going home. So, after several hours of riding and, I guess, great anticipation, she burst into tears when she realized that our final destination was not, in fact, the beach.

There's no place like home.

Finally Fall

I don't think I have ever been this glad to turn the calendar page to September. August was a slow month. There are only so many popsicles one can eat (and feed to the kids - I do share sometimes) before the novelty wears off. Although we did have a bit of excitement with this last box - the wrappers were blank, so we didn't know what flavor we were getting until we had unwrapped each one. Quite suspenseful.

Rachel (3) is still squeezing Susie (3 months) a lot, but Susie doesn't seem to mind. Susie doesn't seem to mind anything, actually. Not even the fact that she is slowly going bald. Or that she has very fat knees. She is very pleasant about everything. And she never, ever complains about her food. Unlike everyone else in this house. David refuses all meat and eggs and assiduously inspects the remainder of his meal for bugs. (Let's not talk about the morning Theo slipped a plastic spider into David's oatmeal.) Brian eats only meat (with an occasional side of potatoes) and spends mealtimes grossing out Anna. Twelve-year-old girls have very low gross-out thresholds, I must say. Rachel yells for whatever she can't have. And everyone participates in baby-carrot-bashing - "This one tastes/smells/looks funny." So Larry and I are thinking of instituting a new mealtime rule. It would be called, "Shut up and eat." No stimulating dinnertime conversations which would keep our teenagers abstinent and drug-free. No lively discussion of current events and world affairs. Just shut up and eat. Please.

We are headed to the beach for a couple of days (we decided to save our vacation time until gas went over $3 a gallon). Both Rachel and Brian have forgotten what the ocean looks like, so we figured it is time to refresh their memories. Larry plans to leave at 7 AM. This should be interesting.

Late July - 2005

It's hot here. I know, it's hot everywhere. My friend in Utah had the nerve to complain about the 100-degree temperatures there. They're also suffering(?) from 18% humidity. Please. I'm practically wading out my front door every morning into what must be a humidity level of 548%. And beating back vicious, blood-sucking insects every step of the way. Otherwise, our summer is going along swimmingly (sorry, couldn't resist). Afternoons at the pool, mornings spent forcing recalcitrant children to do math ("but it's summer!" they whine - I told them they could enjoy summer when they are grown-ups and gainfully employed - yeah, I lied).

You know, not much really going on around here. I labor under the delusion that if I step outside when the temperature is above 100 degrees, I may spontaneously combust; so we have mostly been hunkering down inside (aside from the above-mentioned forays to the local swimming hole). It's almost like being snowbound in the winter, but less fun. UNO has gotten old (actually, the kids are mad because I'm winning - spoilsports). The only excitement we've had lately is when Rachel fell into the potty. She was pretty shaken up. That should only delay her potty-training by a year or so. Anna is doing her best to remind us that she is just about 12 ("I hate summer! I hate everything!") Larry hides in the basement during her tantrums, the coward. He has also been sending away for convent boarding-school brochures.

Well, I need to get back to dehydrating chicken for Theo and Larry's backpacking trip next week. Looks, um, delicious. Really.

2 Weeks Later - July 2005

It's been a while, I know. But it's rather hard to type with one hand, and I'm actually expected to prepare dinners for my own family now, and Larry had the nerve to return to work. So...I'm a little busy. I must be putting up a good front of having my ducks in a row (ducklings, actually), as Larry is still planning to accompany Theo on a Boy Scout backpacking trip the first week of August. He calls it good exercise - I call it running away from home.

Rachel seems to have bonded with the baby somewhat. David attempted to pat Susie a week or so ago while Rachel was crooning over her in her infant seat; she (Rachel) smacked David's hand away and shouted, "Don't touch! This is Rachel's baby!" There is no font or punctuation with which I might adequately convey the peremptory way in which she said this. We don't call her the Empress for nothing, you know.

Brian and Rachel are still spending most of their spare time perfecting their whines. I try to keep them busy with playdough and Duplos and books and trips to the pool, but there always seem to be extra hours in the day (the long, hot, humid summer day) for them to work at driving me nuts. We've even included Brian in our summer-long UNO tournament by having him play open-handed (i.e., cards face up) so we can help him. That worked fine until this morning when, in the middle of a game, he said, perturbedly, "Hey! Everyone can see mine!" It bothers me he didn't figure that out until now. I had him targeted for medical school (not at all squeamish and fairly bright, I thought); but now I'm not so sure. Anyway, he wants to be a butcher. We don't know why. We don't want to know why.

David has been spending the summer being alternately ignored and ordered around. We vote him to be the kid most likely to run away from home. He has gotten very good at doing laundry and making oatmeal. I call it summer boot camp. Theo has kept himself occupied with his work at the vegetable farm, his experiments in the kitchen (he can whip up an excellent pesto now), and all the schoolwork I've decided to torture him with this summer. He is going on a practice hike this weekend, in preparation for the weeklong trip in August. What, the boys need to practice peeing in the woods? I hardly think so. This is more likely another gambit by the troop dads to escape from their wives for the weekend. And no, Larry isn't getting away with it this time. Anna (who has absolutely no desire to pee in the woods, thank goodness) has been a big help, when not at band camp or at a neighbor's house being paid to do what she does for free around here (her mother's helper business is thriving - she'll need to incorporate soon). Of course, these halcyon days may be ending, as she is less than a month away from turning twelve, and we can already feel those storm winds blowing closer, ever closer. Be afraid....be very afraid....

The Beginning, June 2005

Well! It's been a month since Susie was born, so things are fairly back to normal here. I mean, if normal is no time to make dinner and laundry baskets full of clean clothes everywhere (at least they're clean) and a 2-year-old and a 5-year-old who are whining an awful lot. Let's just call it the new normal, shall we? Anyway, we didn't have enough to do around here; so we decided to take a jaunt to NJ to see my parents last week. We had to convoy, since a 7-passenger minivan simply won't seat 8 (those darn seatbelt laws, wouldn't you know); personally, I really didn't mind riding separately from the above-mentioned whining children. Susie slept three solid hours on the way up - I definitely had the better end of the deal. The way down was another story, but it can actually be rather interesting comparing all the different turnpike reststops on I-95.

Our stay at my parents' house in NJ was bearable; though Larry did seem to develop some sort of nervous tic while we were there. He kept walking around muttering "loony bin...loony bin..." under his breath. Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Matt were all glad to see the children, even the whiny ones (have I mentioned that they're whining a lot lately?); and I was glad to let the kids mess up someone else's house for a change.

Susie is spending her time sleeping, nursing, spitting up, pooping, and hiccuping. She's very good at hiccuping. I'm spending my time carrying Susie, changing Susie, nursing Susie, preventing Rachel's squeezing Susie too hard, ordering the older children around, and pretending to Larry that we're doing just fine - really. 6 children? Piece of cake! No more trouble than 5 - honest! What's a little extra laundry? When he looks doubtful, I remind him that Susie may be the child who visits him and takes care of him after I abandon him to a nursing home in his dotage. It definitely won't be David. He doesn't like us anymore, because we insist he eat his oatmeal in the morning. He claims that there may be bugs in it. I told him that's all right, because it's organic. We insist that he eat breakfast, because he usually passes on dinner - he's a vegetarian, and the dinners are generally of a carnivorous nature. Anna, on the other hand, will only eat oatmeal for breakfast and pouts (no one can pout like a 12-year-old girl - I can feel it on the back of my neck) if we occasionally have cold cereal. I think they are all trying to drive me nuts. And, yes, it's working.