Rachel managed to almost break her nose today by somehow slamming a heavy-duty tire swing into it. I was a little bummed it was self-inflicted; I was half-hoping that the neighbor kid (the one whose head was almost cracked open by Brian) had done it. Then we and our neighbors would be even. But no such luck. Rachel was sobbing hysterically until she realized that she'd get a popsicle; then she turned the waterworks off like that (picture a snapping finger, okay?). Susie of course required a sympathy popsicle or two; girls are empathetic like that, you know? I think they take turns injuring themselves, just to get popsicles.
Anna still hates me. And I still don't care. I garnished part of her allowance to pay for ice cream treats for her little siblings, because she wrecked their Duplo creations during one of her hissy fits. Yes, I am the meanest mother ever. It was good ice cream, too. McDonald's has these little sundaes on their dollar menu - what a deal! That wasn't a paid promo, by the way. With 6 kids, I'm just very enthusiastic about Dollar Menus.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Still Summer
No rain. Hot. What else is there to say? The little kids, God bless 'em, are still excited about going to the pool. But what choice do they have? There's nothing else going on. Unless you count the new (the fifth one this summer) jigsaw puzzle we've started on the dining room table. How come the activities that would be considered pointless time wasters if I were an adult living alone become totally worthwhile just because I have young children? Maybe that's why I keep having babies - to justify my willingness to spend my summers doing jigsaw puzzles, making lemonade, and hanging out at the pool. A real adult couldn't get away with that. I've got it made. I think.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Dishwasher Suicide and Other Problems
Most amusing sight this week around our household - Larry lying on the couch, ignoring all the boxes and miscellany crowded into our family room and reading a book titled Get It Done. All I can say is, it wasn't working.
Theo has returned home from his summer job to a hero's welcome. I won't say it wasn't an emotional reunion at times, particularly when he opened the refrigerator door with tears in his eyes. He looks to have lost about 15 pounds over the summer. At least I've now got one kid who truly appreciates a full fridge and central air conditioning.
It's only been 2 months in our new abode, and we've already managed to kill the dishwasher. Actually, I think it committed suicide. After 20 years of being used only once or twice a week by the former owner, it just couldn't hack our 2-times-a-day-sometimes-3 regimen. Larry and I moseyed on over to Best Buy (anything to get away from the children, you know) to purchase a new one (because we are made of money); and we were surprised to realize that dishwashers (at least, ones sturdy enough to withstand our not-so-typical use) are costing upwards of 600 dollars these days. We were also surprised (well, not really) to realize that, out of approximately 20 display models, there was only one model that we managed to agree on. And it didn't come in white. So we came home dishwasherless, much to the dismay of Anna, who wants to know "what do you mean wash the dishes by hand?" and who is feeling much put upon lately. Anna is no longer 13, by the way, thanks be to God; we're hoping that her being 14 may bring us some relief from the hell that she has been putting us through for the past year.
We are even more relieved that Rachel is turning 5 tomorrow, which means that she will no longer be 4 and that maybe, just maybe, we can put the events of last year behind us. Not that we were traumatized by all the plumbing incidents, stuffed-animal beheadings, and whatever else she inflicted upon us over the past 12 months; we are just hoping for a teeny little respite from not being able to trust our own children. Age 5 is still too young for boarding school - I checked. Of course, she doesn't endear herself to me any further by her habit of voicing her thoughts out loud to herself. The other day, as I was getting dressed, I heard her commenting, "Mommies have big bottoms. Not cute little bottoms like mine." I guess it's time to get back to those Weight Watcher meetings.
David, Brian, and Susie are enjoying all the festivities and cake which are attendant on having 2 family birthdays within one week. And we are all enjoying (with the exception of Anna, who does not enjoy anything involving us) having Theo back home to cook us gourmet meals (hey, I do do most of the shopping and food prep). At least all the good food has helped to distract us from the fact that it has been in the 90's here for approximately forever, and it will remain that way for the foreseeable future. I think we need to move to Canada. Larry doesn't seem receptive to that idea, however. I think he's lost his sense of adventure somewhere. That's what happens as you age, I guess. He's got only 2 more months until he turns 40; and he's turning grayer by the minute. Though that may not all be due to the aging process, now that I think about it.
Well, time to be getting to bed - I've got 1/2 a bushel of peaches to turn into preserves in the morning, if they don't manage to rot overnight. Yet another over-enthusiastic purchase of mine at the local farmer's market, I'm afraid. At least they didn't cost as much as the 40 quarts of strawberries the kids brought home in June. I think we buy more produce in one summer than most people used to see in their entire lives.
Enough, already!
Theo has returned home from his summer job to a hero's welcome. I won't say it wasn't an emotional reunion at times, particularly when he opened the refrigerator door with tears in his eyes. He looks to have lost about 15 pounds over the summer. At least I've now got one kid who truly appreciates a full fridge and central air conditioning.
It's only been 2 months in our new abode, and we've already managed to kill the dishwasher. Actually, I think it committed suicide. After 20 years of being used only once or twice a week by the former owner, it just couldn't hack our 2-times-a-day-sometimes-3 regimen. Larry and I moseyed on over to Best Buy (anything to get away from the children, you know) to purchase a new one (because we are made of money); and we were surprised to realize that dishwashers (at least, ones sturdy enough to withstand our not-so-typical use) are costing upwards of 600 dollars these days. We were also surprised (well, not really) to realize that, out of approximately 20 display models, there was only one model that we managed to agree on. And it didn't come in white. So we came home dishwasherless, much to the dismay of Anna, who wants to know "what do you mean wash the dishes by hand?" and who is feeling much put upon lately. Anna is no longer 13, by the way, thanks be to God; we're hoping that her being 14 may bring us some relief from the hell that she has been putting us through for the past year.
We are even more relieved that Rachel is turning 5 tomorrow, which means that she will no longer be 4 and that maybe, just maybe, we can put the events of last year behind us. Not that we were traumatized by all the plumbing incidents, stuffed-animal beheadings, and whatever else she inflicted upon us over the past 12 months; we are just hoping for a teeny little respite from not being able to trust our own children. Age 5 is still too young for boarding school - I checked. Of course, she doesn't endear herself to me any further by her habit of voicing her thoughts out loud to herself. The other day, as I was getting dressed, I heard her commenting, "Mommies have big bottoms. Not cute little bottoms like mine." I guess it's time to get back to those Weight Watcher meetings.
David, Brian, and Susie are enjoying all the festivities and cake which are attendant on having 2 family birthdays within one week. And we are all enjoying (with the exception of Anna, who does not enjoy anything involving us) having Theo back home to cook us gourmet meals (hey, I do do most of the shopping and food prep). At least all the good food has helped to distract us from the fact that it has been in the 90's here for approximately forever, and it will remain that way for the foreseeable future. I think we need to move to Canada. Larry doesn't seem receptive to that idea, however. I think he's lost his sense of adventure somewhere. That's what happens as you age, I guess. He's got only 2 more months until he turns 40; and he's turning grayer by the minute. Though that may not all be due to the aging process, now that I think about it.
Well, time to be getting to bed - I've got 1/2 a bushel of peaches to turn into preserves in the morning, if they don't manage to rot overnight. Yet another over-enthusiastic purchase of mine at the local farmer's market, I'm afraid. At least they didn't cost as much as the 40 quarts of strawberries the kids brought home in June. I think we buy more produce in one summer than most people used to see in their entire lives.
Enough, already!
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
General Juvenile Behavior
Saturday was shaping up to be a good day until one of our neighbor's very sweet 4-year-olds suffered a blunt force trauma to the head, an injury which was, unfortunately, inflicted by my Brian in our basement. It didn't help that I didn't know which twin it was (nothing like shouting at a bleeding 4-year-old, "Who are you?!" while running to get his mother). Brian claims it was an accident (by-product of a pillow fight), and fortunately the victim's older sister corroborates his story. Whew. I'd hate to have to move again.
Larry and I went out for dinner that night to a "real" restaurant (meaning we didn't have to stand up to order our food). I spent the evening trying not to be grossed out by the fact that we unfortunately had a front row view of the butt crack (excuse my wording - I can't think of a polite way to say that) of some teenager sitting at the table next to us with a bunch of his friends. I would like to say in this underdressed teenager's defense, however, that he had good enough manners to put his napkin in his lap while he ate. Now if he could have just draped it behind him instead....
I decided that yesterday would be a pleasant stay-at-home day. Unfortunately, I forgot that the children would be there too. You know, the longer I'm a parent, the more I start thinking that "Children should be seen and not heard" is a really good idea. The little creatures whine and cry a lot. In a sudden fit of insanity, I decided to be a super-nice mommy and bake cookies with them in the afternoon; the first 5 minutes, Rachel screamed because we were making oatmeal raisin. The next few minutes, Susie screamed because Brian was mixing and she wasn't. Then Brian spent a while sobbing because Rachel (who had gotten over her disappointment) and Susie (likewise) were stirring in the wet ingredients without him. Then they all cried because I came to my senses and threw them out of the kitchen and put the dough on the cookie sheets myself.
Mealtimes are no better. If Susie doesn't like something that she has put into her mouth, she can't just spit it out onto her plate. She has to hold it in her hand and then scream at me until I take the masticated, spit-filled item from her personally. Besotted as I am with her, I still don't find this behavior charming. And for some reason, Rachel is unable to sit down at table for a meal without automatically whining about something on her plate. Brian pouts and whimpers if we expect him to eat anything that does not fall into the category of meat and potatoes, while Anna complains about everyone else's eating habits. We can't even invite anyone over for dinner - it's that embarrassing. I can't tape their mouths shut, because then they couldn't get the food in. IV feeding for the whole family is looking better and better to me.
There - have I complained enough? We're getting summer cabin fever here. And it's predicted to be in the 90's all week. The only saving grace this summer has been the kids' obsession with jigsaw puzzles - the real ones, the 1000-piece kind. I think we've done 4 already. They're sort of addictive. And Susie helps to make them even more challenging by taking apart the pieces when we're not looking. And throwing them back into the box. It's a good thing she's still cute.
Anna's birthday is coming up, and we're not sure what to get her. What does one get for the girl who hates everything? Or, at least, everything to do with us? Larry figures he may surprise her by giving her her bedroom door back. She slammed it one too many times a few weeks ago, and he snapped. I think it's in the attic now. I don't know - I'm staying out of this one.
Theo is heading back home next week, and I, for one, am looking forward to it. We've been eating so much dairy while he was gone that I've gained another 5 pounds. Talk about too much of a good thing.
Wow - I can't believe we still have all of August to endure down here in the semi-tropics. The mosquitoes are just starting to come out in force (they got a late start this year - sometimes a drought can be a good thing), my garden's dead, and Larry doesn't take me seriously when I tell him that what this family needs is a summer house on Martha's Vineyard. Or Nantucket. Everyone needs a change of pace every once in a while, is my thinking. Larry's thinking probably runs more along the lines of "Wives - they'll spend whatever you make." Well, yes - boredom will do that. It would be a little less boring around here if either one of us could figure out how to set up our DVD player - ever since the move, it's just been sitting there, defying all our attempts to get both sound and picture at once. I suggested that we just buy a new one. But Larry just got that look on his face again - you know, the one that says, "Wives...."
It's late - I have to post this before it becomes August, now don't I? Good-night, all.
Larry and I went out for dinner that night to a "real" restaurant (meaning we didn't have to stand up to order our food). I spent the evening trying not to be grossed out by the fact that we unfortunately had a front row view of the butt crack (excuse my wording - I can't think of a polite way to say that) of some teenager sitting at the table next to us with a bunch of his friends. I would like to say in this underdressed teenager's defense, however, that he had good enough manners to put his napkin in his lap while he ate. Now if he could have just draped it behind him instead....
I decided that yesterday would be a pleasant stay-at-home day. Unfortunately, I forgot that the children would be there too. You know, the longer I'm a parent, the more I start thinking that "Children should be seen and not heard" is a really good idea. The little creatures whine and cry a lot. In a sudden fit of insanity, I decided to be a super-nice mommy and bake cookies with them in the afternoon; the first 5 minutes, Rachel screamed because we were making oatmeal raisin. The next few minutes, Susie screamed because Brian was mixing and she wasn't. Then Brian spent a while sobbing because Rachel (who had gotten over her disappointment) and Susie (likewise) were stirring in the wet ingredients without him. Then they all cried because I came to my senses and threw them out of the kitchen and put the dough on the cookie sheets myself.
Mealtimes are no better. If Susie doesn't like something that she has put into her mouth, she can't just spit it out onto her plate. She has to hold it in her hand and then scream at me until I take the masticated, spit-filled item from her personally. Besotted as I am with her, I still don't find this behavior charming. And for some reason, Rachel is unable to sit down at table for a meal without automatically whining about something on her plate. Brian pouts and whimpers if we expect him to eat anything that does not fall into the category of meat and potatoes, while Anna complains about everyone else's eating habits. We can't even invite anyone over for dinner - it's that embarrassing. I can't tape their mouths shut, because then they couldn't get the food in. IV feeding for the whole family is looking better and better to me.
There - have I complained enough? We're getting summer cabin fever here. And it's predicted to be in the 90's all week. The only saving grace this summer has been the kids' obsession with jigsaw puzzles - the real ones, the 1000-piece kind. I think we've done 4 already. They're sort of addictive. And Susie helps to make them even more challenging by taking apart the pieces when we're not looking. And throwing them back into the box. It's a good thing she's still cute.
Anna's birthday is coming up, and we're not sure what to get her. What does one get for the girl who hates everything? Or, at least, everything to do with us? Larry figures he may surprise her by giving her her bedroom door back. She slammed it one too many times a few weeks ago, and he snapped. I think it's in the attic now. I don't know - I'm staying out of this one.
Theo is heading back home next week, and I, for one, am looking forward to it. We've been eating so much dairy while he was gone that I've gained another 5 pounds. Talk about too much of a good thing.
Wow - I can't believe we still have all of August to endure down here in the semi-tropics. The mosquitoes are just starting to come out in force (they got a late start this year - sometimes a drought can be a good thing), my garden's dead, and Larry doesn't take me seriously when I tell him that what this family needs is a summer house on Martha's Vineyard. Or Nantucket. Everyone needs a change of pace every once in a while, is my thinking. Larry's thinking probably runs more along the lines of "Wives - they'll spend whatever you make." Well, yes - boredom will do that. It would be a little less boring around here if either one of us could figure out how to set up our DVD player - ever since the move, it's just been sitting there, defying all our attempts to get both sound and picture at once. I suggested that we just buy a new one. But Larry just got that look on his face again - you know, the one that says, "Wives...."
It's late - I have to post this before it becomes August, now don't I? Good-night, all.
Monday, July 23, 2007
On the Road With Harry Potter
Faced with the prospect of another fun-filled weekend of home renovations and reorganizing, we ran away instead. We decided to visit Theo at the Boy Scout camp where he's working this summer and see how the simple life agrees with him. Anna was quite excited about this plan - she couldn't wait to sit in the van with her 4 younger siblings for over 3 hours and then walk around in the woods of southern Virginia. (There really should be a font which indicates sarcasm.) Her displeasure was only slightly ameliorated by the fact that while she was sitting in the car, she could read the latest (and last) Harry Potter book without being asked to stop and help around the house.
Because we were leaving so early Saturday morning, we had to visit the bookstore at midnight Friday to get the books (yes, 2 of them - David ordered his own copy). Alas, if it were only that simple. What we really had to do was show up at the bookstore Friday morning, before it opened, and get in line behind the approximately 100 people who were already there in order to get a wristband that would enable us to get the books at midnight. Then, Larry had to take them to the bookstore at 9 that evening so they could sit around and wait 3 hours to get their hands on the precious tome. We had been warned that if we showed up later than 9, we might not be able to get in. It was true. I was supposed to relieve Larry of bookstore duty at 10:30, but he called and said not to bother - there was no way to get past the mobs around the front of the store. And even if I did, there was a bookseller with a bullhorn barring entrance to latecomers. Booksellers with bullhorns, attempting to calm an agitated crowd - hard to picture, isn't it? Larry's voice seemed to be shaking a bit as he relayed this piece of information to me. "Are you guys all right?" I asked him. He said they were, he was just a little freaked out by the numbers of people wearing capes and brandishing "wands." I guess he almost got it in the eye a number of times. "What's going on here?" he asked me. That's what you get if you send a Potter virgin to one of these book release extravaganzas. They suddenly realize that they don't know what's happening. It's not my fault - I had begged him more than once to read the books and brush up on his Potter lore, but he refused.
Where was I? Oh, yes - they managed to get their books and escape the mob outside the store. (I'm told Larry was yelling at the kids, "Hold it close to your chest! Don't let anyone get it!" as they made their way between the lines of police tape and out to the parking lot.) When they got home, I immediately confiscated both books and told the kids to get to bed and get some sleep before the trip. Which I did too, after I read a couple of chapters. (You didn't think I was going to buy a third copy, did you?)
We found Theo well and happy in the woods of southern Virginia. We had a picnic by the lake and he gave us a tour of the camp, including the disheartening scene of the staff members on their day off, all sitting around in a circle by the tents and smoking like chimneys. Theo says that they're not worried about getting addicted to nicotine. They're just smoking because they like to smoke and they don't want to stop. But they're not addicted. That's what they've told him. So that's okay. Theo's not bad in the sarcasm department himself, you know.
Anyway, we walked with Theo to the camp headquarters where he found that his copy of Harry Potter had arrived (yes, our family now owns 3 copies of that book - what of it?). He wanted to finish reading it that day because he had a waiting list of several other staff members who were going to read it after him. For 5 dollars a day. Apparently, Theo is nobody's fool. So we left him to his reading and continued on to West Virginia, where we were staying at an out-of-the-way navy base for the night. We only got lost once, on a winding country road; but we were helped out by a pleasant old gentleman who apparently hadn't gotten to talk to anyone since Bush's first Inaugural. So along with giving us directions, he regaled us with tales of his experiences in the Pacific during WWII and then stories of his grandfather's experiences in the Civil War (excuse me, I mean the War Between the States - we're in Virginia, you know). (In case any of you Yankees aren't aware of it, the War Between the States was never really settled in these here parts.) Every once in a while he had to step aside to let a car or truck go by, but then he'd come back and start talking again. After we finally managed to drive off, Rachel piped up, "Do we know that man?" We do now, sweetheart.
The Navy base was extremely isolated and extremely well-equipped: up-to-date playground, community center, game room, swimming pool, you name it. (Everything seemed to be named after Senator Byrd. It's not hard to imagine why. That's one senator who knows how to bring home the bacon.) We had great lodgings (3 bedrooms, kitchen, livingroom) for a mere 60 dollars a night (again, your tax dollars at work). It was ringed by beautiful mountains, which Anna and David barely glanced at, as they were engrossed in Harry Potter. Still, Larry and I enjoyed the change in scenery and we plied the younger kids with enough junk food that they enjoyed the experience too. And I finally got my hands on The Deathly Hallows (Anna is a fast reader), so I was able to read it before anyone could ruin it for me. Larry, however, is remaining steadfast in his determination to be a Harry Potter ignoramus.
Now we're back home, and wondering what to do with the rest of the summer. July is sort of a long month, you know?
Because we were leaving so early Saturday morning, we had to visit the bookstore at midnight Friday to get the books (yes, 2 of them - David ordered his own copy). Alas, if it were only that simple. What we really had to do was show up at the bookstore Friday morning, before it opened, and get in line behind the approximately 100 people who were already there in order to get a wristband that would enable us to get the books at midnight. Then, Larry had to take them to the bookstore at 9 that evening so they could sit around and wait 3 hours to get their hands on the precious tome. We had been warned that if we showed up later than 9, we might not be able to get in. It was true. I was supposed to relieve Larry of bookstore duty at 10:30, but he called and said not to bother - there was no way to get past the mobs around the front of the store. And even if I did, there was a bookseller with a bullhorn barring entrance to latecomers. Booksellers with bullhorns, attempting to calm an agitated crowd - hard to picture, isn't it? Larry's voice seemed to be shaking a bit as he relayed this piece of information to me. "Are you guys all right?" I asked him. He said they were, he was just a little freaked out by the numbers of people wearing capes and brandishing "wands." I guess he almost got it in the eye a number of times. "What's going on here?" he asked me. That's what you get if you send a Potter virgin to one of these book release extravaganzas. They suddenly realize that they don't know what's happening. It's not my fault - I had begged him more than once to read the books and brush up on his Potter lore, but he refused.
Where was I? Oh, yes - they managed to get their books and escape the mob outside the store. (I'm told Larry was yelling at the kids, "Hold it close to your chest! Don't let anyone get it!" as they made their way between the lines of police tape and out to the parking lot.) When they got home, I immediately confiscated both books and told the kids to get to bed and get some sleep before the trip. Which I did too, after I read a couple of chapters. (You didn't think I was going to buy a third copy, did you?)
We found Theo well and happy in the woods of southern Virginia. We had a picnic by the lake and he gave us a tour of the camp, including the disheartening scene of the staff members on their day off, all sitting around in a circle by the tents and smoking like chimneys. Theo says that they're not worried about getting addicted to nicotine. They're just smoking because they like to smoke and they don't want to stop. But they're not addicted. That's what they've told him. So that's okay. Theo's not bad in the sarcasm department himself, you know.
Anyway, we walked with Theo to the camp headquarters where he found that his copy of Harry Potter had arrived (yes, our family now owns 3 copies of that book - what of it?). He wanted to finish reading it that day because he had a waiting list of several other staff members who were going to read it after him. For 5 dollars a day. Apparently, Theo is nobody's fool. So we left him to his reading and continued on to West Virginia, where we were staying at an out-of-the-way navy base for the night. We only got lost once, on a winding country road; but we were helped out by a pleasant old gentleman who apparently hadn't gotten to talk to anyone since Bush's first Inaugural. So along with giving us directions, he regaled us with tales of his experiences in the Pacific during WWII and then stories of his grandfather's experiences in the Civil War (excuse me, I mean the War Between the States - we're in Virginia, you know). (In case any of you Yankees aren't aware of it, the War Between the States was never really settled in these here parts.) Every once in a while he had to step aside to let a car or truck go by, but then he'd come back and start talking again. After we finally managed to drive off, Rachel piped up, "Do we know that man?" We do now, sweetheart.
The Navy base was extremely isolated and extremely well-equipped: up-to-date playground, community center, game room, swimming pool, you name it. (Everything seemed to be named after Senator Byrd. It's not hard to imagine why. That's one senator who knows how to bring home the bacon.) We had great lodgings (3 bedrooms, kitchen, livingroom) for a mere 60 dollars a night (again, your tax dollars at work). It was ringed by beautiful mountains, which Anna and David barely glanced at, as they were engrossed in Harry Potter. Still, Larry and I enjoyed the change in scenery and we plied the younger kids with enough junk food that they enjoyed the experience too. And I finally got my hands on The Deathly Hallows (Anna is a fast reader), so I was able to read it before anyone could ruin it for me. Larry, however, is remaining steadfast in his determination to be a Harry Potter ignoramus.
Now we're back home, and wondering what to do with the rest of the summer. July is sort of a long month, you know?
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