A Time to Cleanse

I just returned from a TEC weekend in Belle Prairie, MN. I helped staff a Christian retreat that has held a spot in my heart for the last 16 years; I was a resource, which means I guided and journeyed along with a small group of people experiencing TEC for the first time. The people on this weekend's retreat were amazing - beautiful souls - wonderful hearts. The spiritual director made me proud to work for the church and honored to be part of the experience. I made a lot of new friends and enjoyed working with some folks whom I really respect.

I had not been back to the TEC center for nearly four years - the last time I worked I was newly pregnant with the twins - it was there that my belly "popped" and I began to show.

Since my last retreat, I had certainly experienced a lot. My life is completely different now than it was then. Thankfully, a few important things have remained constant. My faith life has remained strong, my husband has grown even more cherished to me, and my family has continued to be awesome.

As I began to mentally recap the in-between years, I realized why I'm so tuckered out these days - life has been absolutely wild. There's been a lot of good and I SO greatly appreciate it. But there have also been a huge number of hardships - some really big ones - in a very condensed period of time. I was stricken with sickness, had babies who faced death, got "fired" from our first daycare provider, survived a really tough first year of preemie life (times two), started working for and soon left a totally nutso ad agency, gave away my dogs of 7 years, lost half my grandparents on the same day, dealt with way too much alcoholism from my in-laws, watched a couple cousins get cheated on, sold a house, built a house, lost my biggest client ever and sold the new house without even moving in, took a job on "the client side" - nonprofit - church, no less!, uprooted us all into central MN to take a job where those who need me the most don't want me there the strongest, inherited an explosive employee who actually tried to sabatoge me, learned that our hiring freeze meant that getting rid of crappy employees simply means I've doubled my workload, watched my poor husband give up his thriving company and move here at the worst possible time, became a single mom each M-F while my DH took a "factory job" working evenings, struggled with the massive pay cut that resulted from DH's giving up his company, spent a fortune on the kids' teeth to fix the prematurity problems, juggled myself between docs trying to find a way to fix my face, developed killer bunions, watched some loved ones suffer from cancer, etc.

No wonder it's felt like such a long road.

During this long road, I haven't given myself the time to process it all and grieve - the last time I'd even cried was when I was still in the hospital with the twins - heavily drugged and extremely foggy due to the physical pain. This past weekend, I finally had the luxury of time to let myself deal with it all and rejoice in surviving it.

I am so relaxed and so grateful for the opportunity to finally let go of some of that baggage. And so exhausted. I'm pretty sure I'm a little disfunctional, since I only seem to let go that freely at the TEC center, but perhaps it means I just need to go back more frequently than four years at a stretch. Next time, I'm bringing DH with me.

If you love yourself even the tiniest bit, you owe it to yourself to attend one of these retreats. It's based on Christianity, but I know of a couple people who went there as atheists who even had great experiences. It's the best investment of less than $100 I can possibly imagine. www.cmtec.org

The toad

My kids are a little too sharp for their own good, I'm afraid. When I drove up to daycare yesterday, all three kids nearly knocked me down in excitement to show off the toad Breanna was holding. I asked his name and Lillian replied, "Frog." Breanna said, "No, toad."

They then announced that they were going to bring him home with us. Uh, no. Smarty pants that I am, I explained that he doesn't have a carseat, so we couldn't buckle him in. Breanna quickly retorted, "I'll put him in my cup holder. See? He fits?" Oh, no no no. When I had her remove him and take him back outside, she commented, "I can use my shoelace to buckle him in. He'll be nice and safe."

She stumped the mom here - pretty good logic for a three-year-old. I talked her and Lillian into leaving their new pet in a box with some leaves. They each kissed him goodnight. Thankfully, no prince appeared.

This morning when the girls were dragging, not wanting to put on shoes, I reminded them that we'd better get to daycare to check on that toad and see if he needed breakfast. With that, they leapt into their shoes, raced to the van and buckled in before I even had MY shoes on. Another day in the life...

Missing

This crazy life is crazy. Not in a wild, drug-dealing, night-club dancing kind of crazy, but a much less subtle, equally-as-wearing kind of way. I miss "normal." Along with normal, I miss alone time with my hubby - awake alone time. I miss my patience. I miss work-free evenings once the kids are in bed. I miss down time. I miss my energy.

With my DH working evenings, I try to get home at lunchtime a couple days a week to have a quick bowl of cereal and then visit with him for a half hour. I miss him so very very much. Then the weekends come and we try to catch up on life and what's all happened in the past week. We end up talking logistics of children and work and always seem to run out of time for just "being" and laughing. He tries to give me a break from the kids, yet they all want to be all together, so I end up exhausted by the time Sunday night rolls around.

The last several weekends, my DH has been gone - working or hunting - which means I've been a single parent all week, and then the weekends, too. Needless to say, I've crossed into the realm of beyond overwhelmed with our three precious children. I feel it in my crabby voice, in the way I holler, the way I snap and the way I don't sing to or with them much these days. It's so sad and I feel awful that the situation has gotten the best of me, and yet, even when I pray about it, I only seem to mellow out for a few minutes before yelling at whoever dumped cinnamon all over the floor. It's a constant race and I'm absolutely drained.

Thank God DH will be home with us tomorrow for a whole day. I know some quality family togetherness would be lovely, but I'm using the time to take a break. I'm going to the salon in the morning and then finding someplace to wander around aimlessly. It's my only chance for the week. On Sunday, DH is going to run back to Fargo for another day of work, so I'll be at it alone again. But come next Friday, I'm going to do something really exciting! I've signed up to work a TEC retreat - which I haven't done since having kids. I'm elated just knowing the kinds of refreshment comes out of those experiences. And I'm delighted to truly get a break from the kids!

I know that with the way God works through TEC retreats, I will come away most likely with a renewed focus - not on what I'm missing but what I'm blessed with. And that's what I miss the most. I'm so thankful to know of a do-able means to getting that perspective back in check.

First Day of 'cool

I'm beat after the twins' first day of pre-school today. Once I finally got them to bed last night, I was able to pack their backpacks with all the stuff on the list from school. And pick out clothes. And iron little pants. And prep for breakfast (since we'd be getting up almost an hour earlier than normal in order to make this all fly). It all added up to a late night for me.

The girls are in separate classrooms across the hall from each other in our local Catholic elementary school. I was delighted when the teachers called a few weeks ago to say they have so many students they had to open up two classes and that meant I had the option to keep the twins together or not - my call. Hooray for options! The decision to go with different rooms was natural for us - they are such opposite kids.

When we went in to wake up Lillian this morning, she popped up and excitedly asked, "Do we get to go to 'cool today? Today?" Yes, finally, the day had come after many weeks of buildup. Up early, we had a lovely family breakfast of real opeemeal (oatmeal) with fresh blueberries and cream, yogurt, and bacon. The dropoff of the kiddos at school went well, as did the dropoff of Grant at daycare - alone.

The pickup was uneventful, too. Both girls were exhausted by the time 11:30 rolled around and nearly conked out on their way to daycare. Both had a great time (and Grant loved having Grandma Barb to himself all morning, too).

Neither twin exhibited any anxiety about her sister (I was so curious), but they did talk a lot about each other. For show-and-tell, Breanna brought her little watering can so she could talk about all the "plowers" she and her sister helped water this summer. Lillian wore her green admission bracelet from our trip to the farm on Friday. She told her class about how the crabby donkey tried to eat Breanna's finger but he tasted some blood and decided not to bite it off. Thankfully, there were no stitches needed for show-and-tell.

I guess this means we officially have a couple of big kids and a toddler. I don't know if that's better than three toddlers or not.... will have to get back to you on that one.

My cousin's inspiration

I have a pretty cool cousin out in Washington. Even though I haven't seen her in person in at least a decade, probably more, I know she's cool because we've connected through Facebook/blogs in the last couple years. We've even visited on the phone and hit it off famously.

She recently started a blog that simply states things she's grateful for that day. Simple, but beautiful. Now I'm inspired.

I've been struggling with trying to figure out the relevance of Twitter in my life, and this might just be the connection I've been searching for. I haven't been drawn to tweet in the least, but I kind of feel like I need to use the technology just for the sake of understanding it. Aghghghgh - the pressures of being a communications consultant. This might be my ticket, though. Do-able and not much of a chore at all.

Thanks, Barbie. Wish me luck! Today, I am grateful for your inspiration.

My obsessive research topic of the month

As my dear husband would say, I'm dabbling in voodoo. After consulting with an MD who also has a naturopathic medical degree, we've agreed on an experimental treatment plan to kick me the rest of the way back from this Bell's Palsy crap that has been hanging on since April 19, 2o06. I went in to him because my podiatrist insisted I have a family doctor before he does surgery so he can have someone to send the results to. I told him to just send the results to me. We went round and round on that topic, as well. But that's besides the point.

I had a strategy on this one. The doc I picked is very well-rounded - traveling the world to learn different approaches and often lecturing on new and unique treatments that most American MDs have never bothered looking into. So I went in for a "family checkup." When he asked why I picked him, since he books out 4 months, I told him I really was hopeful he'd notice my BP and have some magic suggestion for how to get rid of it.

Aha. The more we talked, the more he explained that based on a lot of factors I'd shared, he'd be willing to bet I got BP due to Lyme disease that had been dormant in my system, but deep in my tissues. Once the twin pregnancy got to be a major strain on my body, the Lyme came out fighting and damaged part of my facial nerve. (I was delighted to hear this, because earlier this same year I had been to a different naturopath who diagnosed Lyme disease - dormant - through EDS - and helped me kill the virus homeopathically.) It made sense. Finally something that added up.

I asked if he thought surgery would open up my affected nasal passage so I can breathe through that side of my nose again and his eyebrows shot up. Surgery? Don't you think it's a little drastic? I told him it's been three years and I just want my nose to work. If my smile looks like a smirk forever, I can handle it. If my eyebrow never works again, ok. True, I'll never be hit on again by a stranger, but really, I'm married and I can handle it - I've had three years to get used to that ego blow. I just want my nose to be able to breathe so I can eat a meal and be able to chew with my mouth shut for every bite - and not have to wear a very unsexy BreatheRite strip to bed for the rest of my life.

So he came up with an untraditional treatment plan that is making me stink like vitamins, poop way more frequently than I'm used to, and clean out my savings account more quickly than I'd prefer. One of the protein products makes me gag, then shiver at it's grossness each time I take it - twice a day. I shivered just now as I wrote about it. If ever you get an inkling to drop 60 bucks to try K-Pax - listen to these words of wisdom - nothing could be grosser - it's like drinking someone else's puke. Add to that, 4 mega-concentrated fish oils, 4 lipioc acids, 4 CoQ10s and a D each day, as well as 5 portions of veggies and 3 fruits. Now as if that doesn't sound icky enough - I'm also doing something I consider to be extreme.

I started an IV therapy this week - 250 grams of Vitamin C and a concoction full of other mega healing properties. Next week I go in for 500 grams, the next week for 750, and then 8 weeks of 1000 grams. To put this into perspective, the daily recommended value is 60 milligrams. To convert what that means, I'll be receiving 1 million milligrams. It's expected to take around three hours to get that much into my system each time. Whoa.

So, between last week's appointment and this week's first IV, I've been researching online every free moment (not that there have been many at all - I've been SWAMPED at work). This is a treatment that natural-type people use to treat cancer. Needless to say, I'm cautiously optimistic. If it doesn't work, fine, I'm out a few thousand bucks and I'm stuck with a face that doesn't fully work but can live with. But at least then I'll know to just give up and finally allow myself to grieve and face the reality.

If it does work, though, wow - what a great investment! So, please say a prayer for this to work and for me to not get consumed with anxiety over it all. My wonderfully supportive husband is usually awesome, but he's really skeptical on this and less than happy with the amount of money I'm investing in it. I'm trying to explain that while he pours his extra money into hunting gear and trips out West, we can consider this my hobby. (It's still less than what he spends on hunting, I'm guessing.) But he is worried that I might grow a tail or start spouting green hair on my nose or something. Guess we'll just have to wait and see...

The way they talk

I'll be the first to admit, I am easily amused by my kids. The things they say and the way they pronounce them makes me chuckle at least a half dozen times a day.

They love talking about tooting and vehicles and babies and God and water towers and baking and all the wonderful places they spot letters and the size of poop and how much they love the dentist. They've just started roleplaying, Lillian always wanting to play baby Jayda and Breanna is a different kind of Jayda. When they sing the alphabet, each time they get to L they automatically sing "L for Lillian."

Some of my favorite mis-pronunciations include plutterbys and pink-o-lows (sprinklers) and me-plection (reflection) and tattoons and nicnacs (picnics) and neck-a-nicks (necklaces) and many more. Their F sound always comes out as a P sound, so that alone makes stuff sound silly. Life in our house is punny (funny).

Summer Fun

Here are a few of our summer memories so far, captured.

1. We survived our first family trip to the strawberry farm in late June. You probably can't tell in the photo, but I'm carrying Grant in the lead - he couldn't make it even one step without having to stop and snack.

2. The kids artfully made "trees" out of the bag of zip ties Dad left out the morning of July 4 - all in the time it took for mom to pour and deliver a cup of coffee to Dad, who was sleeping in.

3. Fourth of July was spent at home, with the family enjoying the wild and crazy sprinkler.

4. Grant tried out his vintage surfing suit and we all crashed in exhaustion after that afternoon.

5. We rearranged our living room, leaving just enough room for a hiding spot small enough for Grant. He loves peeking out of there!

I yelled back

While at the podiatrist today, talking about my upcoming bunion surgery in October, he tried having a little "chat" with me about the types of shoes I wear. He was shocked and disappointed that I showed up at my orthotic fitting wearing sandals. He implied that I didn't even want to get positive results from the upcoming surgery.

Our conversation went kind of like this.

"What kind of athletic shoes do you wear?"

You mean like tennies? I don't wear tennies.

"What do you wear when you work out?"

I don't have time to work out. I have three little tiny kiddos and a husband who works evenings. Are you kidding?

"Well what do you wear when you're running after kids?"

Whatever I can slip on and chase them in. Sometimes just socks. Never anything complicated.

"What about when you go shopping?"

I pay $20k in daycare annually and my husband took a 75% paycut to move here, and that's the extent of my shopping money.

"What about groceries?"

I try to order them online.

"Well then how do you stay so slim?" (as if he didn't believe me)

I chase after three kiddos and rarely have time to eat. Plus, if you saw me naked, which you never will, you'd know that my bones may be small, but the rest of me is plenty squishy. I clearly do not work out.

"Well then you need to get into some good athletic shoes. I'll write down a couple brands for you to look at and then buy them at one of these two stores."

The $100 sandals I'm wearing came from one of those stores and was recommended by the clerk to be supportive for bunions. Plus, the second I walk in the house with anything with laces, my kids will sniff them out and promptly unlace them and tie them in knots before we even get up the stairs. Plus, I wear dress clothes in my career - I can't wear tennies. We even have a dress code that says so.

"They come in different colors besides just white, you know."

Yes, but have you ever seen lace-up loafers look appropriate with a skirt? Can't I just avoid sandals and instead go with some nice slip-on loafers. Do you know how tight my hamstrings are after back surgery years ago? I think I'd ache forever if I had to wear flat shoes.

"You don't really expect this surgery to be the cure-all if you're not going to at least try to help the situation, do you?"

Well, you don't really expect me to dress like a grandma just to please you, do you? Who's your biggest competitor in town, anyway? I'm finding someone else who will support me in my lifestyle instead of listening to someone talk down to me and not even consider a discussion about finding a solution to fit MY life.

And off I went. And after work this afternoon, I promptly came home and plunked my new orthotics into some lovely slip-on loafers to break them in for the first hour - I even set the timer. See, I AM a good patient who listens, but only when the talk isn't nonsense. Flat tennies, my foot.

Spooning Rainbows

As I drove into my peaceful neighborhood after a lovely dinner with a woman whose children I used to babysit all those years ago, I was mesmerized by the double rainbows taking up nearly half the skyline. They were vibrant, fresh, and awe-inspiring.

For some reason, I couldn't help but think of them as being like DH and me. In a mushy, reflective mood, I drew the parallels - the brighter, stronger rainbow stretched across the sky, full of life and energy. The more subtle, soft outer rainbow cozily tucked around that bold one, not smothering, just comfortably near. So different, yet so complementary.

The pictures don't do them justice, but then, never do the ones of DH and me together.

Yo God...

From the voice of my oldest three-year-old in bed tonight, about 10 minutes after we prayed and tucked into bed:

"Yo, God. Pix my broken toesies now and make 'em nice and shiny again. Got it?"

Where do the checks go?

It's been a year where I've written out more checks to medical providers than anyone else, including our daycare lady, who I pay each Friday. Not a good sign.

Between dental disasters with the twins and a new crown and upcoming filling for myself, new contacts (more than twice as expensive as those I used to wear), meeting the $1000 deductible for each of us, a lump on my uterus that magically disappeared the day after an ultrasound, exploration of naturopathic care and chiropractic for Bell's Palsy, the upcoming visit to a podiatrist (tomorrow - to see about fixing these damn bunions) and an upcoming trip to an ENT to talk about fixing my Bell's Palsy symptoms, I feel broke. And sick of running.

Last month, I honestly wrote out more in medical/dental bills than either of my paychecks brought in. What do people without savings accounts do? Is that why so many people have rotting teeth? Maybe I just need to find a few more hours in my weeks to pick up some more freelancing. Or not. (I do wish I could squeeze in a little more writing - not for the money so much, but the relaxation. Oxymoron of the month: it's too stressful to try to fit in time to do something relaxing and rewarding.)

I realize that none of these issues is earth shattering. Nothing is critical or unbearable or deadly. For that, I am truly grateful. But man, they are expensive when you add them all together. I'm hoping for a good visit tomorrow and some quick results to get back to feeling somewhat normal again. Someday...

The buzzing in my brain

If you know me at all, you know there is no 'turning it off' time for me. I don't have a TV in my house and I don't read fiction. If my kids are asleep and my husband is working (every week night), I'm thinking about work and ways to improve how it all comes together.

A main priority of my office (the communications office) is to redo our website. The current one is more than a decade old and hasn't been improved upon since the initial build. Needless to say, it's horrible. Everyone I know is convinced that we just need to start from scratch and build a new one from the ground up - and do it right with the ability to adjust it as user needs change.

Unfortunately, the team of 12 who hired me have no idea what our needs are, in terms of skills, technology, personnel, etc. I recognized that the entire group is near retirement age, so when I interviewed, I purposely understated my capabilities (I secretly was hoping to not get the job offer because it would be such a huge change, plus I knew that if I did the job, it would be way more rewarding to exceed expectations rather than the opposite). I bluntly said that I do not have graphic design skills, nor do I have website design skills. I have an eye for design and a head to comprehend the big picture and getting the right message to the right audience. And I have a great understanding of the importance of web content, ease of use, and so on when it comes to a website. And I can write web copy well, which is a totally different writing style than ads or brochures.

Shoot, what these folks need is a cross-platform IT person who is also a graphic designer and a PR specialist and a public spokesperson and a writer and a marketing manager and a videographer and about a million other specialties. When they told me about the robust staff who handles all of the graphic design and web design, I was relieved. I could handle the rest.

Little did I know that I was inheriting a "graphic designer" who had community college training back in the day when folks literally cut up pictures and taped them onto paper and made copies in order to make an ad. And that the website guy has a master's in theology and just happens to tinker on computers at home after hours, but has no formal IT training. Plus, he doesn't even work in the communications office - so any time he gives is borrowed from his office. He's an awesome smart guy, but our structure makes the whole thing screwy. The "designer" has since quit during our hiring freeze, so now it's all me.

I am bucking the idea of having to learn how to code a website. In a big way. Ick. Icky pukey ick. And I'm against using some lame template system that doesn't allow for the classy artistic design we've been establishing as our brand. As I'm trying to figure out where to go with all of this, I've been enlightened by a few people who are way smarter than me in this area, and now my mind is swimming. I'm going to do my darnedest these next couple days to simply ignore the whole issue. It really is overwhelming and tiring and daunting. So on to focusing on very unrelated things. Like accounting work. And press releases. And networking/schmoozing opportunities. And a manicure. And making sure I have fresh creamer for coffee in the morning.

Boy oh boy.

June 12th - the most emotional day of my year

My darling daughters, who turned three a full 6 weeks ago, were due to celebrate their birthday today. And each year since their birth, their due date has brought on an onslaught of tears and hugs and an overwhelming ache of relief.

Six weeks early. Who ever knows what prematurity is until you visit a baby in the NICU who is too fragile to even stroke, much less hold. Just remembering the intense fear of having to bury our babies, whose odds were less than shitty, my heart is pounding and it hurts to breathe.

I had a really tough time playing the mean mom role tonight. With DH working nights and me being a single mom each evening, bedtime is certainly not fun for any of us. The girls, Breanna especially, really pushes - often not staying in bed for good until 11 or later. (Thankfully Grant is the most wonderful little guy in the universe - he likes to cuddle for about 1 minute, give a kiss goodnight, and then nuzzle into his blanket and go to sleep.) With the twins, though, it's a constant, draining battle, both physically and emotionally. Like most nights, tonight I just wanted to rock these miracle babies without having to worry about the consequences of overtired kids tomorrow. Unlike most nights, however, I let my emotion dictate the decision to rock the girls to sleep late into the night.

As I smelled their soft, clean hair and stroked their smooth little hands, I couldn't hold back the tears of gratitude. Thank God for letting these children live. And live so well! They overcame every obstacle the doctors told us to expect and really, they are perfect little beings.

June 12 will never be the same.

A week in the life...

I woke up late on Sunday morning to the smell of bacon. Not only had my extremely wonderful husband let me take a turn sleeping in, but he also got up with the kids and made a real breakfast. And then delivered a plate to me in bed. Honestly, could there be any sweeter gesture?

Listening to the chaos out in the kitchen, I felt guilty, so I picked up my plate and joined the rest of the crew in the kitchen. Grant was wearing no pants. Neither was Lillian. And Breanna had on her jammies upside down with two different colors of socks. Gotta love it.

With DH working evenings M-F, our time together as the whole family is pretty limited, which is why we really treasure our weekends. It's also the only break I get from our three little darlings, so I often find an errand I need to run - even if it's just to the grocery store - alone. Or the hardware store. Or anywhere.

Last week was really exhausting, but I had a very brave week, and I'm still questioning why I felt such a desire to get out. Luckily, our out-of-home adventures all turned out ok. No one was abducted or injured, so I guess you could say we had some successes.

On Tuesday night, I took the kids to my office, where the production crew was filming TV Mass. I've hired a wonderful young man to take over that aspect of my office, and it was his going to be his first night without me being there for the whole thing. The kids were curious and cute and having a ball looking for God in the chapel as I made sure everyone was comfortable and ready for me to depart. The girls also searched for God up the stairs. And in the closet. And at the candy machine, where my dear colleague rejoiced in teaching them how fun it is to get Skittles from the machine and eat them all at once. They were hilarious little jumping beans for hours afterwards. From there, we came home and our sweet next door neighbor, who is a beautician, made a house call and cut the girls' shaggy mops. Luckily, she was able to bounce with them on their sugar highs and the bobbed haircuts turned out really cute.

The school where the twins will be attending preschool had it's spring picnic Wednesday evening, so I packed up all three and off we went. I was shocked to see 300-400 people. Sheer madness! But the kids had fun and I just accepted that I couldn't see all three at all times. Thankfully Grant wanted to be held a lot, so I only had to keep an eye on the twins. But what a heavy 25-pounder to lug around all evening. My blood pressure was probably very near stroke stage, but we made it and the kids had a BALL! They even got to jump in an inflatable jumphouse and eat cotton candy and go potty in little toilets for little kids in the little school. (Lillian blurts the last sentence to anyone who asks about school. More like squeals it out. Loudly. And then has to take a really big breath.)

Thursday night was catch-up night and bath night, and then Friday we went to a surprise 50th birthday party for a friend of ours from the TEC (Together Encountering Christ) retreat program. It was out in the middle of a bunch of gravel roads, complete with beanbag-tossing folks who rode 4-wheelers and drank beers and the works of true country living. Again, as a single parent that night, I was a little panicky, but it went well. Our dear friends stepped up and helped me to relax and enjoy a bit before I packed the kids up and headed home. We made it home just as it was getting dark, so everyone conked out right after we brushed our teeth. That NEVER happens that easily, so I was delighted.

This week, we're staying home so I can recuperate.

Status Quo

No one will ever accuse us of overbooking ourselves nor living exotically. Our basic routine is pretty darn comfortable, and though often challenging just based on the logistics of having three little ones always underfoot, it's still nice enough.

We've unofficially boycotted a summer of racing all over the place, trying to squeeze in time with various family members at various lakes, constantly packing and unpacking. It's taken us a few years, but we're finally getting wiser, although certainly not more popular.

This isn't to say we sit home and repeat our days, but in the big frame, we're pretty predictable. We still do a trip to Grandma and Papa's here and there and are bound to make an appearance at my folks' cabin once or twice, but we're doing way more weekends at home than away. The kids are happy. We're happy. We're tired. But not extra tired due to the packing and unpacking. Hooray!

This weekend, we're staying home

Who's Clever?

Who's clever? Not the parents in our house, that's for sure. We thought so, but our oldest daughter, at the ripe old age of just-turned-3, showed us we're so out of our league.

On Sunday night, we the perfect plan. Or so we thought.

The neighbors down on the end of our cul-de-sac were having the first bonfire of the summer and all the neighborhood was going. Since we have the three youngest out of the 16 total kids, we decided we'd be the lone parents and get our kids to sleep before heading to the party, just three houses down. The fire started at 7, and by 8, our house was quiet and peaceful.

DH and I each grabbed an ice cold beer and sat out on our front porch, visiting, basking in the serenity as we watched the sun drop lower in the sky. At about 8:30, we checked once again and all was quiet. I cleverly called DH's cell phone from mine (unlimited mobile-to-mobile, after all). I left my cell phone on top of the hamper in between the girls' rooms, which are right next to each other. DH then set his phone on speaker and we skipped off to the neighbors, ready for another beer and some s'mores. (And Jiffy Pop.)

At a little after 10, I decided I'd check on the kids, even though the phone was nice and quiet. Plus, I had to tinkle, so it was time to head home for a little bit. As I walked up, I realized the lights were on in our house. I could see a small child's silouette in our entryway, sitting on the floor. When I opened the door, Breanna looked up and calmly said, "Hi, Mommy."

I asked what she was doing and she replied, "Just playing with some shoes." With a little prompting, she told me she'd woken up from her nap and was playing Hide and Seek with me. She asked where I was, so I told her I'd been outside. She said, "Oh, fixing Daddy's lawn and pulling his weeds?" Sure. Not filling up on s'mores and popcorn, but working on the yard in the dark. I asked if she could see how dark it was outside and she simply replied, "Yep. I better go to bed then." And off she went, all by herself. Within about 38 seconds, she was snoring softly.

Once she was out of sight, I nearly fell down laughing silently with full force. As I began shutting off the lights (she'd turned on every single one in the whole house - even in Lillian and Grant's room - they were sound asleep, thankfully), I remembered the cell phone. Our very clever daughter had pushed the mute button. Her "clever" mom hadn't even realized it had mute functionality until that night.

If she can outsmart us at age 3, I can only imagine what the high school years will bring.

I get to go home

I get to go home this weekend and I'm practically doing cartwheels in my jammies as I think about it. Due to our daycare lady's vacation, we've been working some creative childcare hours to accommodate DH's and my differing work schedules this week. Last night I brought my kiddos to my folks' so they could enjoy Gramma Pamma's day off with her today. And then I left, gloriously driving a car - as in - low-to-the-ground carseat-less freedom - all the way to the mall and then shopped my little heart out for a tiny bit before grabbing a Starbucks and hitting the road home.

For the record, I snatched up the steal of the year. It is a bulky, wool, beautiful cable-knit red turtleneck sweater. At Christmas time, I ogled and drooled, but the $178 price tag was just too much for my level head to wrap itself around. Last night, I discovered a pile of these very same sweaters on a wonderful rack at Herberger's - all priced at $2.99. Not two hundred ninety-nine. Read it and weap: under three bucks. Woo hoo! Patience finally has paid off!

I gleefully drove home, talking on the phone to a dear friend the whole time, and then enjoyed putting the kids' laundry away with the lights on and not having to be so incredibly silent when opening and closing drawers. And then I went to bed with all the doors open. What a liberating night!

Now this morning, with a cup of coffee in hand and a full 45 minutes to myself with no kidlets under foot, I can enjoy a blog posting and the start to the day in which I get to go home. Right after work tonight, I'm going to head up there for the weekend. A dear friend is going to join us for pizza tonight, then tomorrow, I'm going to help my dad build a fence. That means that my wonderful DH will be home alone all weekend, able to work on our basement with no interruptions. Hooray for all of us! Happy weekend, everyone!

Middle Jesus and God Who Already Went to Bed

Absentmindely, I forgot my cell phone at the office yesterday. I didn't realize it until after I unloaded the kids at our house after daycare. Darn! So after supper, they had baths and the kids all got into jammies, then we piled into the minivan and went to Mommy's Work. It was their first time seeing where I spend my days.

As we walked into the Pastoral Center, the girls saw the open doors to the chapel where we film TV Mass, the sun welcoming them through the windows, so they raced in. "Look, you have a church in your work," exclaimed Breanna. They explored all over the place, overflowing with questions. Lillian spotted the crucifix up above and said, "Look, Jesus is here." Breanna told her that that was not Baby Jesus. Lillian said he's Big Jesus. They argued about it a little bit, and since that particular Jesus is about as tall as the twins, they determined he's "Middle Jesus."

A few moments later, Breanna asked, "Where's God?" I replied that he's right here with us. "Where?" she asked. I told her he's with us everywhere we go. She said she didn't see him. I asked if she could feel him. Lillian put her hands out in the air, trying to "feel" him. Then Breanna spotted the door to the sacristy and explained that God was back there. She asked to go see him, so, knowing the door was locked, I encouraged her to go see if he was there. She tried it, found it locked, and proclaimed in a loud whisper, "He already went to bed. We have to be very quiet and not wake him up." And off the girls went, exiting the chapel.

Baffled by all this, I wondered when and how they made the connection between God and church. It was then that I realized I haven't been the best mom at church - I haven't been explaining what we do or why we do it - I simply expect my kids to sit angelicly and take it all in. With all the wiggling and playing and teasing that occurs in our pew, I am absolutely shocked and delighted that they are able to put it together, with no help from me, mind you. How fast they're growing up!

As our birthday season wraps up

What a wild rush of birthday fever!

Earlier in the week, the daddy of our house turned 29, so we surprised him with a lunchtime visit. We grilled and then ate out on the new kiddo picnic table and sang him happy birthday over his favorite cake, which the girls helped make. We gave him some gifts, which the kids unwrapped for him, and wished him a wonderful day before heading back to daycare and work. He seemed to really enjoy the time.

On Friday, one of my cherished colleagues (who has lots of grandsons but not a single girl) gave me her fancy teapot and dish for holding the teabags, just in time for our tea party birthday party for the twins this weekend. As I set the table with her pretty pot, I realized I was a dope in not thinking about inviting her to join us. She lives out of town, but what if she was looking for something fun to do, especially since it's so icky out outside. Someday, I hope to be graced with more grace and thoughtfulness at the right times, instead of always being after the fact.

We did have a fantastic tea party for the girls, with nine little girls and a grandma and two aunties and three neighbor moms and myself all present and pretty. We had grownup treats (cream puffs, petit fours, piroulenes, mini eggrolls, and meat/cheese skewers) and licorice tea and orange spice tea in fancy teapots, complete with real cups and saucers for every girl. Each cup came with a pretty necklace to keep and a goodie basket, too. Our neighborhood gang is just wonderful - even the older ones play well with the little pumpkins.

We played hot teacup with purses (like the hot potato game) and visited and had a truly lovely day. After church today, the girls asked if they could have a tea party again since it's so darn cold outside, so we had more tea in the real cups and saucers, complete with cream, sugar cube, and a piroulene on the side. Easy to please!

Now that birthday fever is done in our house for a while, I look forward to finding a slowdown. Although, I suspect it will likely not happen until we become empty nesters. Is it terrible that I'm thinking about empty nesting already? Gosh these kids tucker me out.