A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, called Columbia, MD, a man and woman got married and dreamed of someday having a family. The man, we'll call him "J", was an only child and as a result of the childhood trauma of never getting away with anything, wanted to make certain he had enough kids to spread blame around. The woman, we'll call her "E", had not much opinion on the subject, though she had once made a deal with her friend Heather that Heather would be pregnant with all the kids and E would raise them.
You may have guessed, I'm talking about us. I really didn't have much desire to have kids until Jeff and I got together. Those of you that know Jeff will understand immediately how I knew that having kids with him would be an adventure I didn't want to miss. We were married in September 2003, and didn't decide to "try" to have kids right away, so much as we didn't try to prevent things. Those of you that know me well will know that after a month or two of that not working, my goal-oriented personality kicked in and we got serious about the matter. Elizabeth Helen, "Scout" as we called her then, was discovered to exist right around May of 2004 and was born on January 4, 2005. The second she was in my arms, I knew that we would have another baby, and soon. I knew it like I knew that I was going to marry Jeff after one phone conversation.
Sure enough, nine short months later, I woke up in the middle of the night to the knowledge that I could smell the entire contents of my fridge from my bed and I knew that I was pregnant. Margaret Leigh was born in July 2006. Poor Maggie's "in utero" nickname was Avis - cause number 2 has to try harder. As anyone who has had a second child knows, the transition from one to two kids is as earth shaking as from zero to one. Maggie came out with definite opinions and an altimeter that prevented her from sleeping unless being held between 4'4" and 4'8" inches off the ground. There was a definite learning curve and Jeff and I struggled to catch up to our much smarter baby.
However on Maggie's first birthday, when it came time to throw away the "1" candle that I had used for both girls cakes, I hesitated. Partially cause Maggie had slept like a dollbaby through the whole party, her peaches and cream complexion glowing in the summer sun, but mostly cause I knew in my heart I wasn't done. Our family wasn't complete. Two months later, we were blessed with our third baby.
Jack came to us in June 2008, and he is truly a character. I am constantly amazed at how different all three of my kids are - from the way they were born to the way they play. People said to us all the time, "Guess you can stop, you have the boy!" and I would get pissed. Like my girls weren't enough for me. Coming from a matriarchal family, I can't understand the whole "carry on the family name" thing. My grandfather had three daughters, and I can't imagine that a son with the last name Hoover could do better at carrying on family traditions and teaching the generations about what it is to be a close family. I would joke with Jeff that the only way to shut people up would be to have another baby, to make it clear that we weren't "trying for a boy". The only other good reason to have a fourth baby was to make sure that our Mags didn't suffer too much from middle child syndrome. The list of reasons to not have more kids was endless. But yet, neither of us could say - to each other - that we were done. We told everyone else we were done of course, cause when you start talking about wanting a fourth child people start looking at you like you might have something contagious.
We finally decided we'd give it one month. And voila, fouth child. AKA Bullseye, due March 9th
People are funny creatures. When they see that I'm pregnant, (and you can tell from space that I'm pregnant right now, I'm as big as the damned Great Wall), people say "Oh how exciting! Your first?" and when I say, "No, it's my fourth" the smile freezes in that same way that smiles freeze when you give someone a really crappy Christmas present. "Oh, wow, you will have your hands full" is almost ALWAYS the response I get. Except for the old people, they always get happy about it and want to tell me how they're one of umpteen kids and that's the way it should be.
And just like I knew that I wanted another when Ellie was born, and like I knew that I wanted to marry Jeff, I KNOW that I'm not having anymore kids! I knew if from the start, but this pregnancy has been far and away the most difficult of the four. First I was sick for 12 weeks, then, I got a blood clot in my leg. Got the clot resolved, then I got an "incarcerated" hernia which hurt like a bitch, and for my latest trick, now I'm anemic. The ironic part of the anemia thing is that the blood clot was going to preclude me from giving birth at the Birth Center cause of the possibility of another clot. Now I'm at risk because anemia can cause you to not clot enough, and bleed out. Sheesh. Will my body make up it's mind? I'm "advanced maternal age" now - which is what they call you when you're 35, and I think that we've caught our limit.
Don't get me wrong, I know that I am blessed. For all my problems, nothing is life threatening, to either me or the baby. I'm just done. I'm thrilled to have my "little" family, and ready to face the challenge that I'm sure four kids, aged 5 and under will be. I'm doubly thrilled to face it with Jeff who is the best daddy in the world (besides my own of course) and the best husband a girl could ask for.
Now... if I could just fast forward a couple more weeks and have this baby!!!!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
This must be what it's like to the be cobbler's child.
If you're on Facebook, then you know that FB is a little bit of an obsession with me. You'll also probably notice that I haven't been on in a few days. Well.... it was a bad week for our computer. Jeff is a computer guy, and a very, very good one at that. He manages the team that manages thousands of desktops at Barclays. So, since I'm married to a computer whiz, I've turned over all responsibility in that area to him. Jeff likes to keep us up to date, and that means that we're always on the latest and greatest version of Windows and we just recently updated to Windows 7 - the OS to solve all problems. Unfortunately, we had a mishap. Accidentally, all of our pictures for the last two years (the pics that have been uploaded since the last update) were deleted.
Now, I consider myself a rational person, I do have a temper, but my control over my inner monologue is good and I generally don't say things in anger. I have to be pushed pretty darn far, and I have some friends who would be happy to attest to the fact that it's not pretty when I do lose control. I can't recall a time in our marriage, or even before our marriage where I have yelled at Jeff with the spectacular variety of curse words and recriminations that I did the night before Thanksgiving when we realized what had happened. All the while, I knew of course that Jeff would have turned himself inside out to undo the mistake, but I just wanted to be mad for a while.
So needless to say, I've mostly come to terms with it now and if you have any pictures of us from 2008- 2009, please forward them on! Jeff is doing his best to try to recover things and that's why I haven't been online for the past few days. Basically, until he could take the hard drive to work and see if anything is on there, we didn't want to write over any more old information. It's our very own forensic computer search.
Here's to a better week!!!
Now, I consider myself a rational person, I do have a temper, but my control over my inner monologue is good and I generally don't say things in anger. I have to be pushed pretty darn far, and I have some friends who would be happy to attest to the fact that it's not pretty when I do lose control. I can't recall a time in our marriage, or even before our marriage where I have yelled at Jeff with the spectacular variety of curse words and recriminations that I did the night before Thanksgiving when we realized what had happened. All the while, I knew of course that Jeff would have turned himself inside out to undo the mistake, but I just wanted to be mad for a while.
So needless to say, I've mostly come to terms with it now and if you have any pictures of us from 2008- 2009, please forward them on! Jeff is doing his best to try to recover things and that's why I haven't been online for the past few days. Basically, until he could take the hard drive to work and see if anything is on there, we didn't want to write over any more old information. It's our very own forensic computer search.
Here's to a better week!!!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
20 things I'm thankful for - not in any particular order
1. Jeff
2. The Kids
3. My parents
4. My in-laws
5. My wacky family
6. Jeff getting up with Maggie most days
7. Coffee
8. The dog not having cancer
9. Facebook
10. My friends, especially those that keep me sane on a daily basis
11. Kraft Mac n Cheese
12. PBS Kids
13. The rare moments when my kids get along
14. Contact lenses
15. Instant oatmeal
16. Health insurance
17. Being born in America
18. Travel mugs
19. My sense of humor and the fact that I have people that get me
20. Coffee.... it deserved two slots.
Certainly not my comprehensive list, but not bad for 1 cup of coffee and 8:30AM.
2. The Kids
3. My parents
4. My in-laws
5. My wacky family
6. Jeff getting up with Maggie most days
7. Coffee
8. The dog not having cancer
9. Facebook
10. My friends, especially those that keep me sane on a daily basis
11. Kraft Mac n Cheese
12. PBS Kids
13. The rare moments when my kids get along
14. Contact lenses
15. Instant oatmeal
16. Health insurance
17. Being born in America
18. Travel mugs
19. My sense of humor and the fact that I have people that get me
20. Coffee.... it deserved two slots.
Certainly not my comprehensive list, but not bad for 1 cup of coffee and 8:30AM.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Halloween
Ahh... another hurdle to Christmas is done. Don't get me wrong, I love Halloween, but pretty much the second I get home from vacation, I'm ready to get out the sweaters and hang my stocking by the chimney. I have almost no use for August and not much more for September. I ADORE Christmas. I love the shoppers, I love the decorations, I love the 24 hour Christmas music radio station. I'm a serious dork.
However, Halloween is where we are and we had a lovely evening with our friends. Today, we babysat for my good friend Trish. Her son Tyler is only a couple months older than Maggie, so needless to say there was a lot of talking about sharing. The kids all do really well together though and it was actually a really great day with all four. Gave me a little hope for my future!
Later, a whole gaggle of my friends and their kids arrived and I had the satisfaction of having more people than I have chairs for. I seriously love to have everyone over. A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I had a boyfriend who didn't like to have guests over. That may be unfair, I tend to stress and get wound up before people come over, especially in my pre-children, neat house days, but he didn't seem to get the same kind of enjoyment I did from having a houseful. My fantasy was that some day, I'd have the house in the neighborhood that everyone comes to and wants to hang around with us. So far, so good. Jeff is a natural entertainer and he understands that my freaking out is part of my enjoyment of the occasion :)
However, Halloween is where we are and we had a lovely evening with our friends. Today, we babysat for my good friend Trish. Her son Tyler is only a couple months older than Maggie, so needless to say there was a lot of talking about sharing. The kids all do really well together though and it was actually a really great day with all four. Gave me a little hope for my future!
Later, a whole gaggle of my friends and their kids arrived and I had the satisfaction of having more people than I have chairs for. I seriously love to have everyone over. A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I had a boyfriend who didn't like to have guests over. That may be unfair, I tend to stress and get wound up before people come over, especially in my pre-children, neat house days, but he didn't seem to get the same kind of enjoyment I did from having a houseful. My fantasy was that some day, I'd have the house in the neighborhood that everyone comes to and wants to hang around with us. So far, so good. Jeff is a natural entertainer and he understands that my freaking out is part of my enjoyment of the occasion :)
Monday, October 5, 2009
Well, the panic has begun.
I'm now about 17 weeks pregnant with "Bullseye" and the panic over having 4 kids under age 6 has begun. How am I ever to give them all the attention they each deserve? How can we afford to send them all to college? How will I ever get a shower again?
I know that when the time comes we'll just deal with things as they come, but I have all this time to think about things. Especially with Maggie giving us such a hard time at bedtime and Jack is starting to become a light sleeper, I worry about how any of us are ever going to sleep again. I know that Jeff and I are good parents and I'm soooo thankful that we have a good relationship, cause if we didn't, I think the stress of 4 kids would put a serious crimp in our style.
Thankfully, we have many, many good friends and our parents are always there when we need them. People keep offering help, they're going to be surprised how much we take them up on it! I remind myself that there's a reason we don't really remember our early childhood and while my mom assures me it's cause I was perfect, I'm sure she yelled at me for not great reasons at times and I don't remember any of it. As a matter of fact, my earliest memory of really getting yelled at wasn't until 6th grade, when I scratched my mother's brand new car (it was an accident, but wow, you'd have thought I took a screwdriver to the paint). So in the end, hopefully, what they'll remember is the good times, not the crazy bedtimes or the not so great mornings before Mommy's had her coffee.
So in the end, this is a blog about my panic, but also a warning... don't offer help unless you mean it, and I'm sorry for the crabby pregnant lady I'm going to be for the next couple months!
I know that when the time comes we'll just deal with things as they come, but I have all this time to think about things. Especially with Maggie giving us such a hard time at bedtime and Jack is starting to become a light sleeper, I worry about how any of us are ever going to sleep again. I know that Jeff and I are good parents and I'm soooo thankful that we have a good relationship, cause if we didn't, I think the stress of 4 kids would put a serious crimp in our style.
Thankfully, we have many, many good friends and our parents are always there when we need them. People keep offering help, they're going to be surprised how much we take them up on it! I remind myself that there's a reason we don't really remember our early childhood and while my mom assures me it's cause I was perfect, I'm sure she yelled at me for not great reasons at times and I don't remember any of it. As a matter of fact, my earliest memory of really getting yelled at wasn't until 6th grade, when I scratched my mother's brand new car (it was an accident, but wow, you'd have thought I took a screwdriver to the paint). So in the end, hopefully, what they'll remember is the good times, not the crazy bedtimes or the not so great mornings before Mommy's had her coffee.
So in the end, this is a blog about my panic, but also a warning... don't offer help unless you mean it, and I'm sorry for the crabby pregnant lady I'm going to be for the next couple months!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Aahh... Fall
September is here and I'm so happy to say goodbye to the dreaded month of August. In my world, there should be no August. Actually I'd be happy to go right from Vacation (and I think of it like that, capital letters and all), straight to sweaters. I'd almost be willing to go right to Christmas, but I do like Halloween and the crunchy chill of autumn.
We haven't really been up to a whole lot since the reunion in Pulaski. Jeff and I did celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary on the 13th. I vacillate between feeling like it's been a blink of an eye, or feeling like it's been forever. Some days, I still think "wow, I married Jeff Lacey! That's really crazy!"
You see, Jeff and I met in college and, ahem, "dated." Since my mother may read this, I will not go into details, but suffice it to say, we weren't exactly a long term, meaningful relationship. However, when we did break up, it didn't go well, and we didn't speak again for 9 years.
Then one day in February 2002, I received an email from my good friend Annie Brown about some idiot frat guys in Frostburg who had torn up their frat house. I forwarded it on to a lot of my friends, and one of the people I sent it to was Jeff Lacey. Much to my great surprise, he emailed me back! Turns out he and his wife had just signed separation papers and he was SOOOO happy to hear from me. Strange as it sounds, it really seemed like fate at the time and in hindsight, still seems too good to be true. Our email relationship took off like gangbusters. I was in school at the time and I would rush to the library between classes to check my email to see if he had written me. When I was at work, we would IM constantly. Finally after a couple months, we actually spoke on the phone. When I heard his voice, I knew that I had to see him. And when, a month later, I flew to Maryland for my friend Heather's baby shower, I saw Jeff waiting at the airport with a daisy in his hand for me, I knew that I could never, never let this man go.
I moved back to Maryland on July 1, 2002 and we were married September 13, 2003 - 11 years after we had first met. Now, 6 years and almost 4 kids later, I am still surprised at our good fortune. I love Jeff with everything I've got and as I often tell my friends, I got a deluxe model husband!
We haven't really been up to a whole lot since the reunion in Pulaski. Jeff and I did celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary on the 13th. I vacillate between feeling like it's been a blink of an eye, or feeling like it's been forever. Some days, I still think "wow, I married Jeff Lacey! That's really crazy!"
You see, Jeff and I met in college and, ahem, "dated." Since my mother may read this, I will not go into details, but suffice it to say, we weren't exactly a long term, meaningful relationship. However, when we did break up, it didn't go well, and we didn't speak again for 9 years.
Then one day in February 2002, I received an email from my good friend Annie Brown about some idiot frat guys in Frostburg who had torn up their frat house. I forwarded it on to a lot of my friends, and one of the people I sent it to was Jeff Lacey. Much to my great surprise, he emailed me back! Turns out he and his wife had just signed separation papers and he was SOOOO happy to hear from me. Strange as it sounds, it really seemed like fate at the time and in hindsight, still seems too good to be true. Our email relationship took off like gangbusters. I was in school at the time and I would rush to the library between classes to check my email to see if he had written me. When I was at work, we would IM constantly. Finally after a couple months, we actually spoke on the phone. When I heard his voice, I knew that I had to see him. And when, a month later, I flew to Maryland for my friend Heather's baby shower, I saw Jeff waiting at the airport with a daisy in his hand for me, I knew that I could never, never let this man go.
I moved back to Maryland on July 1, 2002 and we were married September 13, 2003 - 11 years after we had first met. Now, 6 years and almost 4 kids later, I am still surprised at our good fortune. I love Jeff with everything I've got and as I often tell my friends, I got a deluxe model husband!
Monday, August 31, 2009
On the Road with the Lacey's
My childhood memories of long car rides consist mainly of my brother drawing and redrawing a line in the velour that I could not cross, always having something under my feet cause I was the shortest, and praying the car needed gas soon so I could pee. My father is a believer in not overusing the starter in a car by needlessly turning the engine on and off for trivial things like letting your small children relieve themselves. We stopped when the car needed gas, and that was it. So notorious for this was my father, he earned the nickname "No Pee Lee."
My other overarching memory was passing all the signs on the highway for cool, amazing, wonderful attractions. Things that would enhance my creativity and spark my curousity. Things that would make me more popular in school. Things that we passed at an average speed of 55 miles per hour, in a colorful blur of dashed hopes next to the highway. When I am a grown up, I promised myself, I will stop at these things and see what I missed!
So... now I'm a grown up and as Jeff would love to tell you, I have inherited more than a few of my father's habits. I hate stopping needlessly, I hyperventilate if we need to make a stop on the wrong side of the road, and I seriously hate ever having to back track on the road. But there is still a part of me that wants to stop at all the cheesy roadside attractions and see what I missed.
This weekend we drove to Pulaski, VA for Jeff's family reunion. Pulaski is in southern Virginia, practically in Tennessee. On the way there, what do we pass? A thousand signs advertising Luray Caverns. Holy crap! I've always wanted to go there!! So, Jeff and I hatch a plan to leave early on Sunday and go to the caverns on our way home. Hooray us.
The reunion was great. We got to see all the relatives, everyone appropriately fussed over my kids, food was fabulous, etc. The whole weekend, we talked to Ellie about the Cavern. Showed her pictures from the brochure. Made up stories about dinosaurs leaving the "fried egg" formations behind. It was the stuff of parenting books.
We left the reunion on Sunday, brimming with optimism. We trundled up Rt. 81, all the way keeping our eyes open for those lovely green and yellow Luray Cavern signs. "Hear our Stalactite Organ!" "Largest and Most Visited Caverns" "Probably more expensive than you think it should be, but think of the stories your kids will tell" etc. Finally, exit 264, we turn off and begin to follow signs to the Caverns. This is when my inner Leo Moran begins to talk... this is pretty far off the exit... it'll add hours to the whole trip... we could make it to Frederick before the car needs gas.... I do my best to squelch these thoughts and we press on. At long last, the gates to Luray are before us. We pull in, find a good parking spot, so far everything is coming up roses.
The entrance fee is $21 per adult, but thank the Lord, kids are free. (the inner voice for that part was my mom) Next on the agenda is finding Maggie a sweatshirt, as the brochure tells us it's a chilly 54 degrees at all times in the cavern and we didn't have a coat for her. Another $15, and Mags is suited up in the cutest Luray Cavern sweatshirt they had (read, the only sweatshirt in her size).
Okay, we're in line, get our self guided tour headsets and down we start. Now, I had called Luray to see if we could bring a stroller and we could, but the nice person on the phone neglected to tell me there's fourteen stories of narrow staircase to go down. Okay, I exaggerate, it was only about two stories, but still. Jeff mans up and carries the stroller, and I take Jack in my arms and begin herding the children down the stairs.
Halfway down, Ellie, my normally mild mannered child, begins to SCREAM. "I don't want to go here! I don't want to go here!" I suddenly realize that in all our talking about the cavern, we neglected to tell Ellie that it was, in fact, underground. Of course, Maggie also begins to scream too, cause if Ellie's scared, it must be scary. Ellie's muscles have locked and she's not going anywhere. And of course, there's a line of people behind Jeff, wondering what those terrible parents are doing to their children. I quick grab Ellie around the middle and carry her down the stairs and then repeat with Maggie. Quickly strapping Jack in, Jeff and I turn our attention to our girls who are both blubbering and hollering. Just then, the helpful Luray staff girl comes over and offers to show us how our headsets work. What? Are you serious? I wave her away and continue to try to calm the little psychos down. No dice. Five minutes later, we're going back up the 27 flights of stairs to the top. I'll give Ellie credit, I wouldn't have thought she could go up those stairs so fast.
While I stood in line to try to get a refund, Jeff took the girls out to the car. The people at Luray were very understanding and did give us a total refund. Jack and I head back to the car and when I see Maggie, still snuffling, in her cute Luray Caverns sweatshirt, I did what any reasonable person would do... I wrenched that damn sweatshirt off my toddler and stormed back to the gift shop, where I got another refund.
All in all, not our best family outing, but I will say in the end, it turned out to be a nice day. We ended up taking a drive through Georgetown, in DC, and even got street parking and had dinner at Johnny Rockets. The girls both got balloons, and you'll have to wait until the next blog installment for the end of the balloon story!
Most importantly, we all got home safe and sound and the girls are still talking about meeting their cousins. I guess I'll focus on that part of the weekend!
My other overarching memory was passing all the signs on the highway for cool, amazing, wonderful attractions. Things that would enhance my creativity and spark my curousity. Things that would make me more popular in school. Things that we passed at an average speed of 55 miles per hour, in a colorful blur of dashed hopes next to the highway. When I am a grown up, I promised myself, I will stop at these things and see what I missed!
So... now I'm a grown up and as Jeff would love to tell you, I have inherited more than a few of my father's habits. I hate stopping needlessly, I hyperventilate if we need to make a stop on the wrong side of the road, and I seriously hate ever having to back track on the road. But there is still a part of me that wants to stop at all the cheesy roadside attractions and see what I missed.
This weekend we drove to Pulaski, VA for Jeff's family reunion. Pulaski is in southern Virginia, practically in Tennessee. On the way there, what do we pass? A thousand signs advertising Luray Caverns. Holy crap! I've always wanted to go there!! So, Jeff and I hatch a plan to leave early on Sunday and go to the caverns on our way home. Hooray us.
The reunion was great. We got to see all the relatives, everyone appropriately fussed over my kids, food was fabulous, etc. The whole weekend, we talked to Ellie about the Cavern. Showed her pictures from the brochure. Made up stories about dinosaurs leaving the "fried egg" formations behind. It was the stuff of parenting books.
We left the reunion on Sunday, brimming with optimism. We trundled up Rt. 81, all the way keeping our eyes open for those lovely green and yellow Luray Cavern signs. "Hear our Stalactite Organ!" "Largest and Most Visited Caverns" "Probably more expensive than you think it should be, but think of the stories your kids will tell" etc. Finally, exit 264, we turn off and begin to follow signs to the Caverns. This is when my inner Leo Moran begins to talk... this is pretty far off the exit... it'll add hours to the whole trip... we could make it to Frederick before the car needs gas.... I do my best to squelch these thoughts and we press on. At long last, the gates to Luray are before us. We pull in, find a good parking spot, so far everything is coming up roses.
The entrance fee is $21 per adult, but thank the Lord, kids are free. (the inner voice for that part was my mom) Next on the agenda is finding Maggie a sweatshirt, as the brochure tells us it's a chilly 54 degrees at all times in the cavern and we didn't have a coat for her. Another $15, and Mags is suited up in the cutest Luray Cavern sweatshirt they had (read, the only sweatshirt in her size).
Okay, we're in line, get our self guided tour headsets and down we start. Now, I had called Luray to see if we could bring a stroller and we could, but the nice person on the phone neglected to tell me there's fourteen stories of narrow staircase to go down. Okay, I exaggerate, it was only about two stories, but still. Jeff mans up and carries the stroller, and I take Jack in my arms and begin herding the children down the stairs.
Halfway down, Ellie, my normally mild mannered child, begins to SCREAM. "I don't want to go here! I don't want to go here!" I suddenly realize that in all our talking about the cavern, we neglected to tell Ellie that it was, in fact, underground. Of course, Maggie also begins to scream too, cause if Ellie's scared, it must be scary. Ellie's muscles have locked and she's not going anywhere. And of course, there's a line of people behind Jeff, wondering what those terrible parents are doing to their children. I quick grab Ellie around the middle and carry her down the stairs and then repeat with Maggie. Quickly strapping Jack in, Jeff and I turn our attention to our girls who are both blubbering and hollering. Just then, the helpful Luray staff girl comes over and offers to show us how our headsets work. What? Are you serious? I wave her away and continue to try to calm the little psychos down. No dice. Five minutes later, we're going back up the 27 flights of stairs to the top. I'll give Ellie credit, I wouldn't have thought she could go up those stairs so fast.
While I stood in line to try to get a refund, Jeff took the girls out to the car. The people at Luray were very understanding and did give us a total refund. Jack and I head back to the car and when I see Maggie, still snuffling, in her cute Luray Caverns sweatshirt, I did what any reasonable person would do... I wrenched that damn sweatshirt off my toddler and stormed back to the gift shop, where I got another refund.
All in all, not our best family outing, but I will say in the end, it turned out to be a nice day. We ended up taking a drive through Georgetown, in DC, and even got street parking and had dinner at Johnny Rockets. The girls both got balloons, and you'll have to wait until the next blog installment for the end of the balloon story!
Most importantly, we all got home safe and sound and the girls are still talking about meeting their cousins. I guess I'll focus on that part of the weekend!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Excuses, excuses....
I've been away for so long... I know you all have been missing my witticisms. We basically had company from June through August this year and our computer is in the guest room. Can't exactly blog while someone is trying to sleep, right?
Starting June 17th, my good friend Andee and her son, Jack came to stay with us from Flagstaff, AZ. To make a long story short, Andee wanted to have her second child here in Delaware and we had the most convenient house for her to stay. Jack and Ellie are only a couple days apart in age, and were playgroup friends a million years ago before they could even walk. Jack has been living the life of Riley as an only child for the past 4 years, and he got a quick education in the law of the jungle that is living with three kids.
For example, just a few days after they arrived, we were fortunate enough to get an enormous playset, courtesy of my in-laws. When I say, enormous, I mean that if anything goes really wrong, we could always move into it. Well, it's got a "horse" swing, the kind that two kids can sit on back to back and swing together. For some reason, Ellie only wants to face "front" meaning towards the house. Poor "Big Jack", as we took to calling him, always had to face the trees. They would swing on it for a solid half hour like this. One day, I overheard Jack saying he wanted to be on the front and Ellie told him that she wouldn't be his girlfriend anymore if he did... next thing, Jack's riding backwards and Ellie's the princess.
Andee, Big Jack, and eventually her husband Graham stayed with us through the birth of their son, James, and Jeff and I had the honor of being named Godparents to another little man. It's always a thrill to be named a special person in a little one's life.
The day that the Williamson's left us, we received another visitor, this time from another country. Caroline Aime, a teenager we met while in France last year, came to visit us to work on her English skills and to help us out a bit with kiddos. Caroline is 15 and beautiful and very shy. The kids loved her and she spent many a happy hour (happy for me at least) entertaining them. I felt badly most of the time, dragging her around from playdate to playdate to Bible camp to McDonald's, but we did get a few fun trips in - Ocean City, New York City, and the Philadelphia Zoo.
Finally, August 20th rolled around and Caroline went back to her parents and for the first time in three months, Jeff could walk around the house in his underwear if he wanted. It was fun to have everyone here, but it's nice to have the house back to ourselves, and I'm enjoying only cooking for five people again!
Now that I've given all my excuses as to why I haven't been keeping you amused with my blogs, I'll end here and write another about our family reunion in Pulaski, and our failed attempt at going to Luray Caverns!
Starting June 17th, my good friend Andee and her son, Jack came to stay with us from Flagstaff, AZ. To make a long story short, Andee wanted to have her second child here in Delaware and we had the most convenient house for her to stay. Jack and Ellie are only a couple days apart in age, and were playgroup friends a million years ago before they could even walk. Jack has been living the life of Riley as an only child for the past 4 years, and he got a quick education in the law of the jungle that is living with three kids.
For example, just a few days after they arrived, we were fortunate enough to get an enormous playset, courtesy of my in-laws. When I say, enormous, I mean that if anything goes really wrong, we could always move into it. Well, it's got a "horse" swing, the kind that two kids can sit on back to back and swing together. For some reason, Ellie only wants to face "front" meaning towards the house. Poor "Big Jack", as we took to calling him, always had to face the trees. They would swing on it for a solid half hour like this. One day, I overheard Jack saying he wanted to be on the front and Ellie told him that she wouldn't be his girlfriend anymore if he did... next thing, Jack's riding backwards and Ellie's the princess.
Andee, Big Jack, and eventually her husband Graham stayed with us through the birth of their son, James, and Jeff and I had the honor of being named Godparents to another little man. It's always a thrill to be named a special person in a little one's life.
The day that the Williamson's left us, we received another visitor, this time from another country. Caroline Aime, a teenager we met while in France last year, came to visit us to work on her English skills and to help us out a bit with kiddos. Caroline is 15 and beautiful and very shy. The kids loved her and she spent many a happy hour (happy for me at least) entertaining them. I felt badly most of the time, dragging her around from playdate to playdate to Bible camp to McDonald's, but we did get a few fun trips in - Ocean City, New York City, and the Philadelphia Zoo.
Finally, August 20th rolled around and Caroline went back to her parents and for the first time in three months, Jeff could walk around the house in his underwear if he wanted. It was fun to have everyone here, but it's nice to have the house back to ourselves, and I'm enjoying only cooking for five people again!
Now that I've given all my excuses as to why I haven't been keeping you amused with my blogs, I'll end here and write another about our family reunion in Pulaski, and our failed attempt at going to Luray Caverns!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Poor Middle Child
I just realized that I wrote a lovely blog about Jack's 1st birthday, and didn't do anything for Maggie's! Poor middle child. When discussing the potential fourth child, Jeff and I kept trying to come up with "a good reason" to have a fourth and making Maggie not be the middle child seemed to be the best we could do!
But I digress...back to Maggie's birthday...
So three years year, nine months ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and I could smell everything in the house, and I knew immediately that I was pregnant. Ellie was just nine months old and we were in the process of trying to move to Wilmington, DE. As a matter of fact, we had been looking at houses just the day before; two bedroom houses in Trolley Square with small yards... well, needless to say, the news that we had another baby coming changed our plans quick! Suddenly, four bedrooms and a yard were imperative. So, we found our house in Pike Creek and moved in December.
Before we moved, I went to see a new OB practice in Columbia that had midwives practicing with them. After my experience with Ellie, I felt that midwives were really the way I wanted to go. In Maryland, midwives can attend births in the hospital and you can have drugs too. Best of both worlds, I thought. After we moved to Delaware, I was confronted with a problem - Delaware does not allow midwives to practice in hospitals. It was a birth center: no drugs, no two day stay, or a hospital and a potential repeat of the aggrevation and fear I experienced with Ellie. So Jeff and I toured The Birth Center in Wilmington, and our decision was made. We'd go with the midwives. I mean, seriously, how hard could it be, right???
I mostly tried not to think about natural child birth. My pregnancy moved along as my pregnancies do, uneventful and slightly boring. I was due July 16th and of course thought I would go early, cause why wouldn't I? The last week of pregnancy came and I got more and more crazy, actually getting angry at Jeff for going to work and leaving me alone with a 18 month old. Thank God Ellie was a pretty easy toddler! I came up with a game called "baby birdie" where I would lay on the couch and make a "nest" and Ellie would be my birdie... and sit there for an hour while I fed her "worms". What a good girl.
Finally, the day arrived... I woke up around 4AM with contractions, but they weren't regular and they weren't bad. I hesitated in telling Jeff, cause he is a well known contraction killer. Every time I tell him I'm having them, they stop. Around 6 we broke down and called grandparents. Everyone arrived around 9AM, just in time for the contractions to stop AGAIN. I was angry, frustrated, irked... we had already had one false alarm, and I wasn't going to do that again. So, Mom, Jeff, Ginny and I packed up and went to the mall. We walked around and eventually contractions started up again. I didn't notice, but according to Jeff, people were looking at me very strangely, as if they were waiting for my water to break in the food court.
We decided to meet the grandpas in Newark for lunch around 2PM. The whole lot of us, including Ellie, went to Klondike Kate's for some lunch. Little did we know we picked the Newark Beer Festival day to be wandering around down there. I was very tempted to partake! Ellie was just thrilled to have balloons and no one was paying much attention to me. Slowly, during lunch the contractions began to build, until we were done and decided to walk to Bing's Bakery. For those of you not from this area, it's maybe a 1/4 mile, but let me tell you, it seemed like the Bataan Death March to me.
While in the bakery, Mom asked me what kind of stuff I would want for breakfast the next morning, but I couldn't answer. I was doubled over with a contraction... suddenly, everything began to move very fast. Jeff ran to get the car, and we were off.
I figured I still had enough time to take a shower, so we stopped at home and I went upstairs to get in the shower. Blammo! Water broken.... now I needed a shower! We left for the Birth Center at 4:00 and Margaret Leigh made her appearance at 6:30! Whew!
Our first months were tough, as I think it's very hard for anyone to go from one to two kids. No one can fully explain to me why it's so hard, but man... it was tough. Now, at age three, my Mags is a lovebug, a little mommy, and a dancing queen who loves to laugh. As much as she makes me crazy, she tickles me every day with her little ways. She loves her brother, a little too much I might say, and she is joy to watch.
Remind me of this later today when I want to duct tape her to the wall! :)
We decided to meet the grandpas in Newark for lunch around 2PM. The whole lot of us, including Ellie, went to Klondike Kate's for some lunch. Little did we know we picked the Newark Beer Festival day to be wandering around down there. I was very tempted to partake! Ellie was just thrilled to have balloons and no one was paying much attention to me. Slowly, during lunch the contractions began to build, until we were done and decided to walk to Bing's Bakery. For those of you not from this area, it's maybe a 1/4 mile, but let me tell you, it seemed like the Bataan Death March to me.
While in the bakery, Mom asked me what kind of stuff I would want for breakfast the next morning, but I couldn't answer. I was doubled over with a contraction... suddenly, everything began to move very fast. Jeff ran to get the car, and we were off.
I figured I still had enough time to take a shower, so we stopped at home and I went upstairs to get in the shower. Blammo! Water broken.... now I needed a shower! We left for the Birth Center at 4:00 and Margaret Leigh made her appearance at 6:30! Whew!
Our first months were tough, as I think it's very hard for anyone to go from one to two kids. No one can fully explain to me why it's so hard, but man... it was tough. Now, at age three, my Mags is a lovebug, a little mommy, and a dancing queen who loves to laugh. As much as she makes me crazy, she tickles me every day with her little ways. She loves her brother, a little too much I might say, and she is joy to watch.
Remind me of this later today when I want to duct tape her to the wall! :)
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Topsail Island!!!
Woo hoo... Jeff and I got up on Saturday morning and sat around drinking coffee, discussing with Andee and Johna what we were going to do for the day, when we started talking about the fact that my mom and dad were probably halfway to the ocean by then. Jokingly, I suggested that we see if we could find a last minute deal and three hours later, we were packed, and in the car on our way to Topsail Island, NC to do vacation with the family.
Each year, my family, including aunts, uncles, cousins, grandpa, etc. gather at the beach and spend a week together: catching fish, catching rays, drinking beers, and generally having a great time hanging out. This year, it's just the Trimbers and the Morans and Opa, my grandfather.
The trip was LONG. We usually spend the night at my parents house the night before we leave and then take off from there, and I didn't realize how much time that cuts off the trip. We pulled into Topsail at 1AM on Sunday morning and collapsed into bed.
Sunday morning, everyone was up bright and early, as per usual, and we moseyed down to the house were the rest of the family is staying. My little clan is holed up at the St. Regis Resort, and the rest of the fam is staying in the lap of luxury in a fancy schmancy house with a pool and a hot tub. Of course, these fancy houses always have their problems and it seems that this house's problem is that you can't change the air conditioning temperature and it's currently set somewhere around meat locker. Other than that, and the fact that my cousin Jeff and his wife are trying to sleep on bunk beds with their sons, it seems like a really nice house and having a private pool rocks.
The beach here is gorgeous and practically deserted. I remember when I moved to Cumberland, MD and people would tell me that they vacationed at Ocean City, how I thought that vacation automatically meant that you were going to North Carolina and it seemed strange to go on vacation in your own state. For years, we went to a different beach, called Oak Island. It was great, small enough that my parents would let their teenage daughter roam around at night unattended. After my brother went into the military, my parents allowed me to start bringing friends along with me and there were several years where Alissa Maiers and I ruled the beach for one week a year. Ahh... youth!
So, right now, I'm hanging out in the condo with a sleeping baby, Maggie is enjoying a nap at the house with GoGo and Pop Pop and Ellie is out with Daddy buying a birthday present for Maggie's big day tomorrow - and I highly suspect, something for Ellie.
Life is good and I'll post more later!
Each year, my family, including aunts, uncles, cousins, grandpa, etc. gather at the beach and spend a week together: catching fish, catching rays, drinking beers, and generally having a great time hanging out. This year, it's just the Trimbers and the Morans and Opa, my grandfather.
The trip was LONG. We usually spend the night at my parents house the night before we leave and then take off from there, and I didn't realize how much time that cuts off the trip. We pulled into Topsail at 1AM on Sunday morning and collapsed into bed.
Sunday morning, everyone was up bright and early, as per usual, and we moseyed down to the house were the rest of the family is staying. My little clan is holed up at the St. Regis Resort, and the rest of the fam is staying in the lap of luxury in a fancy schmancy house with a pool and a hot tub. Of course, these fancy houses always have their problems and it seems that this house's problem is that you can't change the air conditioning temperature and it's currently set somewhere around meat locker. Other than that, and the fact that my cousin Jeff and his wife are trying to sleep on bunk beds with their sons, it seems like a really nice house and having a private pool rocks.
The beach here is gorgeous and practically deserted. I remember when I moved to Cumberland, MD and people would tell me that they vacationed at Ocean City, how I thought that vacation automatically meant that you were going to North Carolina and it seemed strange to go on vacation in your own state. For years, we went to a different beach, called Oak Island. It was great, small enough that my parents would let their teenage daughter roam around at night unattended. After my brother went into the military, my parents allowed me to start bringing friends along with me and there were several years where Alissa Maiers and I ruled the beach for one week a year. Ahh... youth!
So, right now, I'm hanging out in the condo with a sleeping baby, Maggie is enjoying a nap at the house with GoGo and Pop Pop and Ellie is out with Daddy buying a birthday present for Maggie's big day tomorrow - and I highly suspect, something for Ellie.
Life is good and I'll post more later!
Friday, July 10, 2009
Well, guess you didn't see that coming
So much has happened since my last post.... I meant to write before this, but didn't know where to start.
Pretty much everyone knows by now, Jeff and I are expecting our fourth child. Never in a million years did I think I'd be the mother of four kids, especially not in a span of 5 years! Well, life is full of these surprises, and we couldn't be more pleased. We're referring to this baby as Bullseye, cause it seems that Jeff has very good aim ;)
On a graver note, my good friends Kristen, Andee,and her 4 year old son Jack were robbed at gunpoint this week at our local Dunkin Donuts. Kristen is my photographer friend and they had just taken some maternity pictures, and decided to get Jeff and me a coffee on the way home. The gunman actually came into the store and pointed the gun in Jack's direction - what a bastard! To make things even more disgusting the Dunkin Donuts employees didn't lift a finger to help, not even after the criminal was gone. They couldn't even give Kristen the address for the DD while she was on the phone with 911. Terrible. I've written to the paper, and the local moms clubs, asking people to boycott the Milltown Dunkin Donuts. I intend on writing to the local franchise and telling them that this behavior is inexcusable. I can't do anything about the criminal, so I'm taking it out on DD. Believe me, it pains me cause I certainly drink my fair share of coffee and this was our local shop. I will drive out of my way to go to another location!
Keep reading for news of "Bullseye" our newest (and last!) addition!
Keep reading for news of "Bullseye" our newest (and last!) addition!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Fourth of July!
Last night we went to the Hebron Fireman's Carnival, in lovely scenic Hebron, MD. I felt like I had walked into a Norman Rockwell painting. Well, except for the too tight short shorts and the huge number of tattoos. Anyway, the girls were vibrating at the thought of going on the the rides. For those of you who know me well, I want to put in here that the carnival rides didn't get started until 7:15 PM, and I decided to throw caution to the wind and let the girls stay up late. I know, I'm a rebel.
We get to the carnival, get the girls their wristbands, and head immediately to the carousel. Cause if Ellie didn't ride the carousel, it may have caused her to have a stroke. Someone please tell me why every single ride started promptly at 7:15, except the ever-lovin' carousel? After a few hairy minutes, a man started the thing up and Ellie and Maggie climbed aboard. I went on to help Maggie onto the horse, and the conductor asked me to please stay with Mags. Not really a problem, but it hadn't been my plan. We start our trip and the girls are loving it. Every time we go around, Maggie is waving and saying "yeehaw!" and generally being cute. Then, disaster... the conductor started the music.
Maggie literally leaps off the horse and into my arms, screaming, "Too Loud!" For the rest of the ride, and let me tell you, the people at the Hebron Carnival want you to get your money's worth so the rides are LONG, Maggie clung to me like a spider monkey. Poor girl!
The ride finally ends and we all get off. Ellie was exhilarated, Maggie crying noisily. In an effort to save the night, I suggest that they try the airplane swings. They appear to be making no noise at all. The girls get on the plane and start swinging. Everything is going great and then.... the clattering roller coaster starts up next door. Maggie begins to scream again, this time with no parent. Just as I was going to ask the operator to stop, Ellie leans over and puts her hands on both of Maggie's ears and pulls her head to her chest. It was hilariously cute! Again, the Hebron carnival people give you a little extra on each ride, so it seemed a long time that this happened.
Believe it or not, after both of these experiences, Maggie wanted to get back on other rides. They did it all, ride upon ride. The only other trauma was when Ellie insisted that she ride the roller coaster by herself. Not a good plan... there was much crying!
All in all, it was one of those rare, golden nights. The kind of night that keeps a parent going through many a tantrum. The kind of night we'll look back on when we're old and looking at our grandkids on rides. A good kind of night!
We get to the carnival, get the girls their wristbands, and head immediately to the carousel. Cause if Ellie didn't ride the carousel, it may have caused her to have a stroke. Someone please tell me why every single ride started promptly at 7:15, except the ever-lovin' carousel? After a few hairy minutes, a man started the thing up and Ellie and Maggie climbed aboard. I went on to help Maggie onto the horse, and the conductor asked me to please stay with Mags. Not really a problem, but it hadn't been my plan. We start our trip and the girls are loving it. Every time we go around, Maggie is waving and saying "yeehaw!" and generally being cute. Then, disaster... the conductor started the music.
Maggie literally leaps off the horse and into my arms, screaming, "Too Loud!" For the rest of the ride, and let me tell you, the people at the Hebron Carnival want you to get your money's worth so the rides are LONG, Maggie clung to me like a spider monkey. Poor girl!
The ride finally ends and we all get off. Ellie was exhilarated, Maggie crying noisily. In an effort to save the night, I suggest that they try the airplane swings. They appear to be making no noise at all. The girls get on the plane and start swinging. Everything is going great and then.... the clattering roller coaster starts up next door. Maggie begins to scream again, this time with no parent. Just as I was going to ask the operator to stop, Ellie leans over and puts her hands on both of Maggie's ears and pulls her head to her chest. It was hilariously cute! Again, the Hebron carnival people give you a little extra on each ride, so it seemed a long time that this happened.
Believe it or not, after both of these experiences, Maggie wanted to get back on other rides. They did it all, ride upon ride. The only other trauma was when Ellie insisted that she ride the roller coaster by herself. Not a good plan... there was much crying!
All in all, it was one of those rare, golden nights. The kind of night that keeps a parent going through many a tantrum. The kind of night we'll look back on when we're old and looking at our grandkids on rides. A good kind of night!
Friday, July 3, 2009
Why you should never lie to your mother
Since I don't have anything to say about my life as it stands today, I thought I'd relate a story from my past, complete with a moral... why you should never lie to your mother.
Let's go back to summer, the year 2000. I was living with Steve in Boston and had come to Maryland to visit my parents. Before I left, my mom slipped me $40 and told me to take a cab home from the airport, instead of the subway and then the commuter rail. Ha ha!, I thought to myself, I'll pocket the $$ and take the train and then I can have take out a couple times on Mom.
The plane ride was uneventful and I made it from the airport to the commuter rail station without trouble. I had to walk a block or two to make it to the station, and on my way, I saw ahead of me a woman and her two kids. The older child is pulling a suitcase upside down so the wheels are on top and he's more dragging it than anything, and the mom was holding the younger sister's hand and pulling another suitcase. As I approach, I hear the kids are both crying - not screaming, but miserably crying. The mom seemed to be keeping up a steady stream of cursing. Being a generally good girl, I caught up to her and offered to help. Keep in mind here that I also have a suitcase and a bag filled with every piece of sheet music I had at my parents house.
The mother accepted my help without a smile and thrusted her suitcase at me and told me that she has to get on on the green line. Inwardly, I groan. The green line in Boston is the elevated rail, and I knew that it was going to be up at least two flights of stairs. Gamely, I turned to the little boy, set his suitcase on it's wheels and he and I hurried to catch up with his mom, who had started without us. She was still cursing, and I could hear snippets about "your f*$!ing father" and "piece of s$#t". We got to the bottom of the stairs and the little boy looked up the metal steps and let out a wail. I managed to get another stranger to get his bag and up we all travelled. Finally we reached the top of the steps, to find out that we were on the north side and she needed to be on the south side. I talked the stranger into helping us all some more and down we all truck to the other side of the street and back up the other side, the whole time, the kids crying, the mother is cursing, I'm carrying two suitcases and a canvas bag, and another stranger is carrying one suitcase.
We got to south side and I turned to leave and the mom says "Aren't you coming with us?" to which I replied no, that I had to get on the commuter rail. She actually had the balls to huff and then told me that she didn't have enough money to get on the subway. I talked the ticket person into letting the kids on for free and the stranger gave up fare of the mom and we took off without a look back.
I was mulling over how no good deed goes unpunished as I ran to the commuter rail, now cutting my time fine as I had to catch the train. I made it and settled myself into the seat and started reading "A Wrinkle in Time", a childhood favorite that I had taken from my parents house.
I smelled him before I saw him, and I thought, that person is going to sit next to me. On a nearly empty train, the crazy homeless person, ALWAYS finds me. Sure enough, a man wearing a motheaten fur and leather coat, wool hat and gloves sat down next to me. Remember here, I was visiting my parents for the 4th of July. He reeked of beer and BO. I'm liberally minded, but sheesh, really God? You had to send this guy to sit next to me?
Mr. Stinky then opened his mouth and mentions he has read "A Wrinkle in Time" too and that he actually has been to Malden (a town in MA) in the year 2025. I don't know what else he said cause the rest of our time together, I was formulating an escape plan.
We came to the first stop on the rail line, which wasn't my stop, but I told my new friend that I had to get off there and asked if he could please let me out. Of course, he couldn't. So I gently reminded him that if he didn't move, my suitcase would probably hit him in the head. He moved an inch and I scooted by and hurried to the next car.
I spent the rest of my trip afraid that Mr. Stinky would find me and get enraged that I had lied to him about my stop. I jumped off the train with total relief at my stop and finally got home, sweaty, exhausted, and totally bemused at my advenure. Surely that much stuff doesn't happen in one day to everyone. Then suddenly it hit me...
NEVER LIE TO YOUR MOTHER!
If I had taken the money she gave me and taken a cab like she said, I would have made it home way earlier, without aggrevation. I have never lied to her again!!!
Let's go back to summer, the year 2000. I was living with Steve in Boston and had come to Maryland to visit my parents. Before I left, my mom slipped me $40 and told me to take a cab home from the airport, instead of the subway and then the commuter rail. Ha ha!, I thought to myself, I'll pocket the $$ and take the train and then I can have take out a couple times on Mom.
The plane ride was uneventful and I made it from the airport to the commuter rail station without trouble. I had to walk a block or two to make it to the station, and on my way, I saw ahead of me a woman and her two kids. The older child is pulling a suitcase upside down so the wheels are on top and he's more dragging it than anything, and the mom was holding the younger sister's hand and pulling another suitcase. As I approach, I hear the kids are both crying - not screaming, but miserably crying. The mom seemed to be keeping up a steady stream of cursing. Being a generally good girl, I caught up to her and offered to help. Keep in mind here that I also have a suitcase and a bag filled with every piece of sheet music I had at my parents house.
The mother accepted my help without a smile and thrusted her suitcase at me and told me that she has to get on on the green line. Inwardly, I groan. The green line in Boston is the elevated rail, and I knew that it was going to be up at least two flights of stairs. Gamely, I turned to the little boy, set his suitcase on it's wheels and he and I hurried to catch up with his mom, who had started without us. She was still cursing, and I could hear snippets about "your f*$!ing father" and "piece of s$#t". We got to the bottom of the stairs and the little boy looked up the metal steps and let out a wail. I managed to get another stranger to get his bag and up we all travelled. Finally we reached the top of the steps, to find out that we were on the north side and she needed to be on the south side. I talked the stranger into helping us all some more and down we all truck to the other side of the street and back up the other side, the whole time, the kids crying, the mother is cursing, I'm carrying two suitcases and a canvas bag, and another stranger is carrying one suitcase.
We got to south side and I turned to leave and the mom says "Aren't you coming with us?" to which I replied no, that I had to get on the commuter rail. She actually had the balls to huff and then told me that she didn't have enough money to get on the subway. I talked the ticket person into letting the kids on for free and the stranger gave up fare of the mom and we took off without a look back.
I was mulling over how no good deed goes unpunished as I ran to the commuter rail, now cutting my time fine as I had to catch the train. I made it and settled myself into the seat and started reading "A Wrinkle in Time", a childhood favorite that I had taken from my parents house.
I smelled him before I saw him, and I thought, that person is going to sit next to me. On a nearly empty train, the crazy homeless person, ALWAYS finds me. Sure enough, a man wearing a motheaten fur and leather coat, wool hat and gloves sat down next to me. Remember here, I was visiting my parents for the 4th of July. He reeked of beer and BO. I'm liberally minded, but sheesh, really God? You had to send this guy to sit next to me?
Mr. Stinky then opened his mouth and mentions he has read "A Wrinkle in Time" too and that he actually has been to Malden (a town in MA) in the year 2025. I don't know what else he said cause the rest of our time together, I was formulating an escape plan.
We came to the first stop on the rail line, which wasn't my stop, but I told my new friend that I had to get off there and asked if he could please let me out. Of course, he couldn't. So I gently reminded him that if he didn't move, my suitcase would probably hit him in the head. He moved an inch and I scooted by and hurried to the next car.
I spent the rest of my trip afraid that Mr. Stinky would find me and get enraged that I had lied to him about my stop. I jumped off the train with total relief at my stop and finally got home, sweaty, exhausted, and totally bemused at my advenure. Surely that much stuff doesn't happen in one day to everyone. Then suddenly it hit me...
NEVER LIE TO YOUR MOTHER!
If I had taken the money she gave me and taken a cab like she said, I would have made it home way earlier, without aggrevation. I have never lied to her again!!!
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Nintendo has been good for my marriage
When I didn't make enough money from the Mothers of Multiples resale to cover the cost of membership to Sherwood Park Pool this summer, I was bitter. Mostly at my husband for his rare moment of fiscal responsibility.
So I had a couple hundred dollars burning a hole in my pocket, and I did what any responsible adult would do, I bought a Wii. I don't know why, I'm not a game fan. But I bought it, and then our good friend Johna came over a couple days later with the whole Rock Band kit and caboodle. Love her! So now, almost every night, we play Rock Band. Our band is called "Kids in Bed" - we have Mad Dog Lacey on guitar, Johna on vocals, and "E" on drums. I have to say, I've surprised myself with my percussion proficiancy. Even when Johna's out teaching, Jeff and I play. It's been so much fun to be on a team together and we're pretty good at saving each other. We've even unlocked the "Endless Set" - 84 songs in a row, with no stopping... we're waiting for babysitting for that one!
So I had a couple hundred dollars burning a hole in my pocket, and I did what any responsible adult would do, I bought a Wii. I don't know why, I'm not a game fan. But I bought it, and then our good friend Johna came over a couple days later with the whole Rock Band kit and caboodle. Love her! So now, almost every night, we play Rock Band. Our band is called "Kids in Bed" - we have Mad Dog Lacey on guitar, Johna on vocals, and "E" on drums. I have to say, I've surprised myself with my percussion proficiancy. Even when Johna's out teaching, Jeff and I play. It's been so much fun to be on a team together and we're pretty good at saving each other. We've even unlocked the "Endless Set" - 84 songs in a row, with no stopping... we're waiting for babysitting for that one!
Friday, June 26, 2009
Jack stats and smells
Little Jack Sprat is truly my littlest... he's a svelte 19 pounds and not quite 30 inches. For a baby that was born almost 10 pounds, he's really slimmed down this year. Doc says it's probably cause he's so active.
Poor Jack had a bad day though, three shots at the doctors, and because I'm a paranoid mom, I mentioned another issue to Dr. Field. Jack has the stinkiest pee, I mean, really rank, and I'm somewhat of an expert on kid pee. So before we left, the doctor fitted Jack for a "urine catch", which basically means a sandwich baggie gets stuck to his penis and scrotum with a sticky note. So after grabbing a quick bribery Happy Meal for big sister Ellie, we headed over to LabCorp to get his blood drawn and turn in the bag o' pee.
Here in Delaware, it's mandatory that all one year olds get tested for lead poisoning, and Dr. Field recommended that we go ahead and get a renal panel done, just in case the pee turns out to be a problem. With the girls, the blood draws were no problem at all, in and out, no tears. Jack... well, that was another story all together. She first stuck his left arm and got nothing. My kid apparently has no blood at all in his left arm. Then she stuck the right arm and got a "flash", and then nothing. By this point, Jack is screaming his fool head off. I'm a strong woman and I can take a lot in the name of good health, but it was nearly too much for me. In both arms, she was basically fishing around for a vein and kept saying "the baby's roll terribly". I'm sure that they do, but wow. I pulled the plug on the fishing expidition, and we'll just have to go back on Monday. At least it made him pee, and we got the baggie off his bits.
As if to demonstrate his extreme displeasure, Jack proceeds to take the grossest, smelliest crap while I'm getting my bag and Ellie together. Stunk up the whole darn lobby. Whoops!
Poor Jack had a bad day though, three shots at the doctors, and because I'm a paranoid mom, I mentioned another issue to Dr. Field. Jack has the stinkiest pee, I mean, really rank, and I'm somewhat of an expert on kid pee. So before we left, the doctor fitted Jack for a "urine catch", which basically means a sandwich baggie gets stuck to his penis and scrotum with a sticky note. So after grabbing a quick bribery Happy Meal for big sister Ellie, we headed over to LabCorp to get his blood drawn and turn in the bag o' pee.
Here in Delaware, it's mandatory that all one year olds get tested for lead poisoning, and Dr. Field recommended that we go ahead and get a renal panel done, just in case the pee turns out to be a problem. With the girls, the blood draws were no problem at all, in and out, no tears. Jack... well, that was another story all together. She first stuck his left arm and got nothing. My kid apparently has no blood at all in his left arm. Then she stuck the right arm and got a "flash", and then nothing. By this point, Jack is screaming his fool head off. I'm a strong woman and I can take a lot in the name of good health, but it was nearly too much for me. In both arms, she was basically fishing around for a vein and kept saying "the baby's roll terribly". I'm sure that they do, but wow. I pulled the plug on the fishing expidition, and we'll just have to go back on Monday. At least it made him pee, and we got the baggie off his bits.
As if to demonstrate his extreme displeasure, Jack proceeds to take the grossest, smelliest crap while I'm getting my bag and Ellie together. Stunk up the whole darn lobby. Whoops!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Lacey Bed and Breakfast
Some of you may already know that my friend Andee and her son are staying with us for an extended stay while she awaits the birth of her baby. Her son is also named Jack, so by way of clearing things up, we're referring to him as "Big Jack". Big Jack is just a couple weeks younger than Ellie and she's pleased as punch to have a friend to play with who "gets it". Though we call him Big Jack, he's actually a peanut - actually shorter than Maggie and he only weighs 29 pounds. By contrast, Maggie is 38 pounds. So Big Jack is taking some lumps as he gets used to being in a house with two girls that can seriously throw down.
Andee is expecing a second baby boy and hasn't yet picked a name for this little man. I'm amusing myself by throwing random names at her to see if any of them stick. So far, no good, but there's always hope. The most exciting part for me is that I get to see this baby be born. Andee has asked me to act as a kind of doula at the birth and I'm honored to fill the role. I'm a little nervous, since I've never been on the other end, so to speak. I can't wait to meet little... Andrew? David? James?
After Andee leaves, we will be welcoming Caroline Amie, a young lady we met when we were in France last year. She has asked if we would be willing to host her so she can work on her English. She's written to say that she also knows how to cook, do laundry, iron and wants to help with the kids... can you say Au Pair? Woo hoo! Actually I'm looking at it as a great experience for my kids to meet someone from another country, and who knows, maybe when Ellie's 15 she'll be able to go to France for a couple weeks!
I guess that it may seem like a lot to have people staying all summer, but we so love having company and our house is set up nicely for guests to have privacy. Just call us Motel 1116 and we'll leave the light on for you.
Andee is expecing a second baby boy and hasn't yet picked a name for this little man. I'm amusing myself by throwing random names at her to see if any of them stick. So far, no good, but there's always hope. The most exciting part for me is that I get to see this baby be born. Andee has asked me to act as a kind of doula at the birth and I'm honored to fill the role. I'm a little nervous, since I've never been on the other end, so to speak. I can't wait to meet little... Andrew? David? James?
After Andee leaves, we will be welcoming Caroline Amie, a young lady we met when we were in France last year. She has asked if we would be willing to host her so she can work on her English. She's written to say that she also knows how to cook, do laundry, iron and wants to help with the kids... can you say Au Pair? Woo hoo! Actually I'm looking at it as a great experience for my kids to meet someone from another country, and who knows, maybe when Ellie's 15 she'll be able to go to France for a couple weeks!
I guess that it may seem like a lot to have people staying all summer, but we so love having company and our house is set up nicely for guests to have privacy. Just call us Motel 1116 and we'll leave the light on for you.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Happy Birthday Jack!
Today my littlest person turned one. Of course I spent all day thinking about what I was doing a year ago....
The day started like every other day for the last two weeks... I was still pregnant. This despite Jack being my third child in three years and the fact that he was due on June 19th. The adorable "Gemini Baby" onsie still mocking me from it's spot on the floor in the back of the closet where I had thrown it in disgust on June 22.
I got up and went to the bathroom, and when I was finished, I got up and checked the bowl, just to make sure the baby hadn't come out while I was peeing. (Why does that happen to those crazy "I didn't know I was pregnant" people? Those women are either certifiable or flat out lying. ) So there was no baby doing the backstroke in the bowl, and I wandered down the stairs cranky and mad at the girls for daring to be awake and happy. Just when I was considering how much longer I could sleep on the couch while the girls watched Curious George, it happened... a contraction. Nah, couldn't have been. I'm a circus freak who doesn't go into labor. Look kids, it's the amazing pregnant woman! She's been pregnant for 400 years. Wait... there's another! Woo hoo... bring the pain.
So, now what am I going to do? I figured this was going to be a long day and it would take my parents at least two hours to get to my house, so I rounded everyone up and went to Andrea's house for playgroup. It was freaking hot, and she had the sprinkler out. I informed the moms that I was probably in early labor, and that I would not be managing my own children today. Of course, the girls had other plans and I was refereeing and keeping Maggie's teeth off Ellie's back (we called her Marv Albert most of last summer). As playgroup wore on, the contractions kept coming and at some point I decided I should go home before I couldn't drive. Those of you that are locals should be amazed to know I navigated through White Clay Creek while having contractions.
By the time we got home though, woo nelly. Now they hurt. And no one was here yet. I desperately tried to talk the girls into a nap, but they weren't biting. I called my parents and thankfully they were close. Jeff was also on his way and his parents weren't far behind. My parents walked through the door at about 12:30 and I checked out of parenting. I have no idea what the girls did for the next four hours while I labored at home.
About 5PM, we finally went to the Birth Center. By that point, the contractions were about 5 minutes apart and I was not really able to talk much during them. When I had Maggie, I went to the Birth Center for a false alarm labor and before I had even finished walking through the door, the midwife told me I was smiling too much to be in active labor. We all trucked to the Birth Center, well, the granddads stayed at home with the ladies, and settled in for the big show.
This is the point in the story where I'm obligated to tell you why I choose to have babies without drugs... Having a baby without drugs is much like hitting yourself in the head with a hammer.... it feels really good when you stop doing it. I didn't choose the Birth Center cause I'm anti-drug, I often say that the anethesiologists of the world are good people who should be very proud of their work, but the people at the Birth Center are so incredible, I can't imagine going to a hospital. Dorinda, Peggy, Katie, and everyone else there is as caring and as warm as you could possibly imagine. The feeling of belinging to their family is something you cannot get from a hospital where 2000 babies are born a year. People should make whatever choice works for their family and this was the one that worked for us.
It seemed like we were there at TBC for a very long time. There was time to sit in the living room and hang out on the birthing ball, time to take a bath, and finally it was time to make the magic happen. Johna was there to videotape and I kept telling her that there would be more shouting by the end and I don't think she believed me until it was go time. By the time I was in the birthing room, which is really a bedroom, I was in the stage of labor in which every woman says "I can't do this, I have to stop". I was feeling the urge to push and was devastated when the midwife, Katie, told me I was only 8-9 cm and I shouldn't push. I think I could have pushed a SEPTA train up Everest at that point, so it was pretty big task to wait. I thought it would last for hours, I thought I couldn't do it, I wept and cried into my pillow... and then, something changed and it was time to push. 8 minutes later, Jack was born. He was born in his amniotic sac, meaning my water never broke. Dorinda spent the last few minutes of my labor expecting to get showered, cause apparently the sac was like a big water balloon coming out of my hooha. I'm working on balloon animals for my next labor. In the end, she had to cut it with scissors and yank it off Jack's head.
Being born in the "caul" as the old wives call it, is a sign of second sight. I attribute Jack's laid back nature to the fact that he's psychic and he knows that I am going to get his food and that he is going to get whacked on the head by Mags, but it's not going to leave a scar.
He was a gorgeous baby, a perfect 10 on his APGAR. Pink and plump and 9 pounds 8 ounces. Born at 9:04 PM, and perfect in every way.
A year later, he's made our family whole. His sweet smile and great giggles keep us all happy. He's starting to walk and even more exciting, he's starting to sign, so soon I hope to be posting about what Jack has to say!
Happy birthday to Jeff's mini-me, my main squeeze, Ellie's little Meatball, and the love of Maggie's life. John Moran Lacey
(Oh and when I called one of the moms who was at the playgroup the next day to tell her that I'd really had the baby that day, her response... "I figured you would, you were really bitchy yesterday." Love you Trish!)
The day started like every other day for the last two weeks... I was still pregnant. This despite Jack being my third child in three years and the fact that he was due on June 19th. The adorable "Gemini Baby" onsie still mocking me from it's spot on the floor in the back of the closet where I had thrown it in disgust on June 22.
I got up and went to the bathroom, and when I was finished, I got up and checked the bowl, just to make sure the baby hadn't come out while I was peeing. (Why does that happen to those crazy "I didn't know I was pregnant" people? Those women are either certifiable or flat out lying. ) So there was no baby doing the backstroke in the bowl, and I wandered down the stairs cranky and mad at the girls for daring to be awake and happy. Just when I was considering how much longer I could sleep on the couch while the girls watched Curious George, it happened... a contraction. Nah, couldn't have been. I'm a circus freak who doesn't go into labor. Look kids, it's the amazing pregnant woman! She's been pregnant for 400 years. Wait... there's another! Woo hoo... bring the pain.
So, now what am I going to do? I figured this was going to be a long day and it would take my parents at least two hours to get to my house, so I rounded everyone up and went to Andrea's house for playgroup. It was freaking hot, and she had the sprinkler out. I informed the moms that I was probably in early labor, and that I would not be managing my own children today. Of course, the girls had other plans and I was refereeing and keeping Maggie's teeth off Ellie's back (we called her Marv Albert most of last summer). As playgroup wore on, the contractions kept coming and at some point I decided I should go home before I couldn't drive. Those of you that are locals should be amazed to know I navigated through White Clay Creek while having contractions.
By the time we got home though, woo nelly. Now they hurt. And no one was here yet. I desperately tried to talk the girls into a nap, but they weren't biting. I called my parents and thankfully they were close. Jeff was also on his way and his parents weren't far behind. My parents walked through the door at about 12:30 and I checked out of parenting. I have no idea what the girls did for the next four hours while I labored at home.
About 5PM, we finally went to the Birth Center. By that point, the contractions were about 5 minutes apart and I was not really able to talk much during them. When I had Maggie, I went to the Birth Center for a false alarm labor and before I had even finished walking through the door, the midwife told me I was smiling too much to be in active labor. We all trucked to the Birth Center, well, the granddads stayed at home with the ladies, and settled in for the big show.
This is the point in the story where I'm obligated to tell you why I choose to have babies without drugs... Having a baby without drugs is much like hitting yourself in the head with a hammer.... it feels really good when you stop doing it. I didn't choose the Birth Center cause I'm anti-drug, I often say that the anethesiologists of the world are good people who should be very proud of their work, but the people at the Birth Center are so incredible, I can't imagine going to a hospital. Dorinda, Peggy, Katie, and everyone else there is as caring and as warm as you could possibly imagine. The feeling of belinging to their family is something you cannot get from a hospital where 2000 babies are born a year. People should make whatever choice works for their family and this was the one that worked for us.
It seemed like we were there at TBC for a very long time. There was time to sit in the living room and hang out on the birthing ball, time to take a bath, and finally it was time to make the magic happen. Johna was there to videotape and I kept telling her that there would be more shouting by the end and I don't think she believed me until it was go time. By the time I was in the birthing room, which is really a bedroom, I was in the stage of labor in which every woman says "I can't do this, I have to stop". I was feeling the urge to push and was devastated when the midwife, Katie, told me I was only 8-9 cm and I shouldn't push. I think I could have pushed a SEPTA train up Everest at that point, so it was pretty big task to wait. I thought it would last for hours, I thought I couldn't do it, I wept and cried into my pillow... and then, something changed and it was time to push. 8 minutes later, Jack was born. He was born in his amniotic sac, meaning my water never broke. Dorinda spent the last few minutes of my labor expecting to get showered, cause apparently the sac was like a big water balloon coming out of my hooha. I'm working on balloon animals for my next labor. In the end, she had to cut it with scissors and yank it off Jack's head.
Being born in the "caul" as the old wives call it, is a sign of second sight. I attribute Jack's laid back nature to the fact that he's psychic and he knows that I am going to get his food and that he is going to get whacked on the head by Mags, but it's not going to leave a scar.
He was a gorgeous baby, a perfect 10 on his APGAR. Pink and plump and 9 pounds 8 ounces. Born at 9:04 PM, and perfect in every way.
A year later, he's made our family whole. His sweet smile and great giggles keep us all happy. He's starting to walk and even more exciting, he's starting to sign, so soon I hope to be posting about what Jack has to say!
Happy birthday to Jeff's mini-me, my main squeeze, Ellie's little Meatball, and the love of Maggie's life. John Moran Lacey
(Oh and when I called one of the moms who was at the playgroup the next day to tell her that I'd really had the baby that day, her response... "I figured you would, you were really bitchy yesterday." Love you Trish!)
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Sappy sentiments ahead.
So, if you know me, you know that I love Facebook. I have over 250 "friends" and I keep saying I'm going to go through and edit them - you know, cut it down to the people that I really keep in touch with. Then every time I try, I end up thinking about how I really like all these people and though I may not send them messages all the time, it's comforting to know that they're out there in cyberspace and I can find them if I want to. Maybe it's a product of moving around so much, maybe I'm just a sucker for people, but in the end, I just keep adding friends and being glad that I've met so many different kinds of people.
That's my sappy sentiment for the day.
That's my sappy sentiment for the day.
Home again, home again, jigetty jig
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We're back from the epic trip to Pittsburgh. Let me tell you, my mom is a brave soul - 14 hours total in a car with three kids under age 5 and their stressed out mother... yikes. The kids did really well, honestly. Jack was a little angel, hardly heard from him the whole way.
On the way up, we drove scenic Route 30 through PA, past the Elephant Museum, Living Treasures Animal Park and the Land of the Little Horses. Some day, I swear I'm going to take week and drive on that road and stop at all of those places. There's also Idelwild and Storybook Forest, I mean, what more could a girl want, right? Mom did her best to entertain everyone, but she mostly entertained me by throwing stuff at the kids. In her defense, it's really the only way to get stuff to the girls when they're all they're all the way in the back. So they'd ask for some drink or something to eat and Mom would whip it at them and pray they caught it. This worked great until we were about 30 miles from Opa's, when Mom threw the last sippy of milk at Mags, and she dropped it. Tragedy. Anyone who knows Mags, knows that this was a disaster of epic proportions. She screamed about that damned sippy the rest of the way.
It was great to be in the city of Champions for the Pens win. I'm not really a hockey fan, but hey, who doesn't like to see their team win?
Jack had a little first birthday party at Beth's house with my Hoover family. It means a lot to me to have birthday's with my family, probably because we moved when I was young, and I didn't celebrate my birthday with them very much. He got lots of cute clothes and some great toys. Poor kid is probably getting tired of playing with dolls, so it's good that he finally has some trucks to push around.
The funniest thing that happened was when we went to South Park to meet my dad's sister, Alice. South Park is an enormous green space with tons of small playgrounds. Alice knew of a nice area to have a picnic, so we followed her there and set up all our food. Well... don't you know, the bathrooms were all locked and of course, Ellie and Maggie had to pee almost immediately after we arrived. So the girls learned to "camping pee" - drop trou and pee in the breeze. Maggie ezpecially thought it was the greatest thing in the world. She spent most of the rest of our lunch naked from the waist down, peeing. I'm going to have to watch that she doesn't start peeing in the back yard I think. She wanted to try pooping, but I told her that I wasn't equipped to deal with poop.
I wasn't with Ellie most of the time. She spent most of her weekend with my mom and my grandfather. I'm going to admit her to an inpatient detox so she can get off the Oreos and orange juice, not to mention the undiluted GoGo time. She was in her glory - anytime I came to the house, she'd tell me to leave and to take Maggie and Jack with me. She even went fishing with her Great-Uncles Boo and Cherry. (On a side note, everyone of the "adults" in this family have a goofy kid name - Mimi and Cherry, Gigi and Boo, GoGo and Uncle LiLo) All in all, she had a great trip and was really not in the way of wanting to come home.
But home we had to come and the drive home was a little less relaxed - Turnpike the whole way. About 2 minutes after we pulled out of my grandfather's driveway, the DVD player gave up the ghost. So there was a detour to Target, where a new and improved DVD player was purchased, thanks Mom for the kids' birthday present. Of course, I got a chatty Target guy who wanted to talk features with me and I had to cut him off saying "my kids are in the car with my mom and we're on the road, now... just give me this one!" By Lancaster, PA, the kids were toast and Ellie and Maggie disolved into screaming at each other for fun and I actually had to stop the car and take Ellie out onto the curb and threaten her with leaving her behind. I asked her if she wanted to stay on the curb and she said "No" and then I asked if she wanted me to tie her car seat to the roof rack, and she said, "will it be fun up there?"
Finally we arrived home and picked up our $5 pizza, where of course I ran into Noel, like I always do on Tuesday nights at Valle, and then I threw the kids at Jeff and went out for an hour, by myself!! Hooray! Of course, where did I go? Babies R Us... kids are a sickness!!!!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Okay so I'm serious this time
I keep saying I'm going to start a blog, so here it is. No really. It's here. This is it, you're reading it now. I guess I should start being witty now...
This weekend was the second First Friday Happy Hour of the summer. Of course, this month, the month of rain here in lovely Delaware, First Friday happened on the first Saturday. The regulars were all here - I guess we ended up with about 14 adults and 10 or so kids. Jeff bought new sand for the sand box, most of which ended up in Tyler's pants, I believe. That kid is going to be well exfolliated.
Today was the Blue Rocks game - Maggie and Jack's first baseball experience and Ellie's second. Ellie was largely interested in all the food options, which should be a surprise to no one at all. She's not a fan of Cracker Jack, so I'm not sure at all if she's my kid. Maggie had a good time in the moonbounce they have there and managed to figure out that Daddy couldn't fit in the little hole to get her out, so she bounced away in the back where he couldn't reach her. Stinker.
The Jack man continues to amaze us with his eating abilities as well. Tonight he had chicken, peas, asparagus, 8 oz of milk and then still wanted to nurse. Good Lord, when he's a teenager, I'm sunk. I'm going to need to have three jobs to keep my kids in food.
Mom and I are preparing for our big trip to Pittsburgh. Should be a good trip, though I'm anot looking forward to the ride. 6 hours in a car with three kids under the age of five. I think that's a prison sentence for some crimes. I'm definitely looking forward to seeing everyone, especially Opa. It's so much fun to see him playing with Ellie, it's like her personality was made to play with an old grumpy man.
Well, eventually, I'll get a new camera and I'll post some pictures to this site as well... Have a good day party people!
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