3 Turkeys

Just a thought.

2010-02-15T19:56:00.001-05:00

Every time I pass the church
I stop and make a visit
So when I'm carried in feet first
God won't say, "Who is it?"

-Evelyn Ryan

Curling

2010-02-09T09:51:00.011-05:00

It's long been a fantasy of mine that I would come to participate in a sporting event for the first time and show a natural ability. This fantasy also applies to other things, like singing (that really is a fantasy. I've heard myself sing). Sadly, this fantasy has never become reality-until now! You heard me right. Saturday night, Kevin and I and our friends, Julie and Mitchell, went out to a Learn to Curl clinic and, after a short introduction, played our first game. Half-way through the game our instructor took us aside and told us he has never seen a group with such a natural athleticism for Curling. We thought he was just blowing smoke, but after looking around at the 21 other people playing on the other sheets, he was right. We were much better than all of them! Really. There were people falling over, no stones were making it into the house (the bullseye on the ice) and here we were delivering stones and knocking our opponents out.

Now, lest you think the ancient Scottish game of Curling is not a sport, consider the beer drinking. Beer drinking is a common denominator of every sport. And where else is beer drinking the expected outcome of the game? Where else can you call the "Mercy Rule" and the winner will buy you a beer as part of the "brotherhood of Curling"? Now, it's true that I'm not a big beer drinker. Beer is a taste I have not fully acquired, although I have discovered that I do like Labatt's Blue (Ribbon- that's for you, Julie). But what I do like about it is the camaraderie of sitting down to a beer together. It's a lot like having a coffee with a good girlfriend. The clinking together of two bottle necks is something that makes me feel good. Weird, I know. But I digress.

Sweeping stones is hard! It's actual exercise. You're running sideways on ice while leaning into a broom and pushing it back and forth in short sweeps. That ain't easy! Delivering a stone out of the hack with the right weight and curl is challenging, especially if you don't want to fall over. You gotta be limber to get down there and your tweaky knee better hold out!

Our recruiter- I mean instructor, Rick shared with us the many of the wonderful things in the culture of Curling: Curling is a brotherhood. Before and after each game, the opponents shake hands and wish each other "good curling". There are no officials. It's an honor game, like golf. You call your own fouls. The winner buys the first round. He told us of the friendliness of the members, willingness of curling clubs in other cities to host people in their homes for tournaments called bonspiels, the welcoming of traveling curlers in other clubs. He said that if he was in Canada and his car broke down, he'd call the local Curling club. They'd tow his car, put him up and if he forgot his Curling shoes, would find him some shoes to borrow. He painted a pretty picture. We were feeling like college recruits. I must say, Rick is good in the living room.

Ever since that day, I've been thinking about curling. I can't get enough. I've even been dreaming of it! I think all 4 of us would like to join the instructional league and learn how to do it better. I think we could be contenders! Sadly, with 7 kids under the age of 9 between us, the day we can do this is at least 5 years away, when the oldest of the kids will be old enough to babysit the younger ones. Oh, well. In the meantime, we've got the 2010 Winter Olympics and a fridge full of beer!

All in an Effort to Appease My Fans (read: my family)

2010-02-04T14:39:00.005-05:00

Ok, fans of 3 turkeys, (all 3 of you) you've twisted my arm. I humbly accept the challenge of writing on a more regular basis. But what will I write about? Your guess is as good as mine. How about this? I have exactly 5 minutes to write, because it's 2:43pm. Emma just came home from school, Anne-Marie is upstairs talking in her crib (only moments from crying) Andy and Renee are begging for food and I still have to clean myself up, pack a diaper bag for the rest of the day and then we have to go to ballet and straight to Emma's open house after that. Ok? Ok.

So, here's what Renee thinks is a good wardrobe choice in the dead of Winter 22 degrees outside and a snow storm approaching: A sun dress layered over a long sleeve t-shirt with sandals. No, pants underneath are out of the question and a coat will ruin the entire ensemble. I have a few minutes to convince her otherwise, because we are about to head out to ballet, but more importantly to Emma's school, where the teachers will suddenly understand that all the notes and questions and letters sent to school are, in fact, written by a crazy woman.

Time's up.

Today I Am

2010-01-09T18:12:00.002-05:00

Today I am a Domestic goddess! I normally refrain from elevating (?) myself to mythical divinity, but today, what the heck? I'll throw caution to the wind and just say what I feel: today I am a Domestic goddess. To me, the height of success in the domestic world is a clean house, happy kids and husband and multi-tasking like nobody's business. Well, my kids and husband are outside playing in the new fallen snow which makes the clean house possible. Check one and two. Inside, the baby is napping which is where the multi-tasking comes in. Get ready to be stunned.

I have a clean house, a happy and playful family, I am making chicken stock for no particular reason, I've got a crock pot full of hot apple cider tea to thaw the frozen masses, I'm a watching a cooking show while I keep a roaring fire stoked and crochet a scarf. What say you the that! (It's the crochet that takes it to the next level, I think.)

I am so stinkin' happy about this day and how it's going that I can't help but shout "I AM A DOMESTIC GODDESS!!!!" at the top of my lungs -figuratively, of course, there is a baby sleeping, after all. Tomorrow I will likely revert to the domestic schlemiel that I normally am as the house comes crashing down around me. But for today, I am!

Seems a Good Day to Blog

2010-01-08T11:30:00.007-05:00

It's a snow day. Let me say that again: IT'S A SNOW DAY! YAHOOOOOOOO!!!! Christmas break just ended, the kids haven't even been in school a week and still I find myself in desperate need of a day off. Little Annie-Mae woke me up at 5:15 for unknown reasons, so as I fed her a bottle in the pre-dawn hours, I tuned in to the pre-dawn news to see if maybe, just maybe, I'd get my wish. Our school district starts with S and I tuned in at the beginning of the alphabet. So I sat there trying to divine if school would be closed based on the other districts around town. Lo and behold! Snow Day!!!!

So here I am, it's 11:36, I've been up for 2 hours because Little Miss went back to sleep. In that time, I've fed the kids, read some blogs and I've had a delightful conversation with a wonderful woman, Paula, who stopped by to pick up some dvds Kevin made for her. I invited her to stay and have a cup of coffee even though we were all still in our pajamas and she had to climb over Andy's "Slidy Town" creation of blocks, discarded garments, a pile of clean laundry and a fort of pillows. There really was no hiding the disorderliness of my home. But Paula, ever-wise and generous, harkened back to the days when her 4 boys were little and told me her house looked about the same. "You do what you need to do for the kids and forget about the house" is what she says. Amen.

So, I had a lovely little chat with Paula. Now the kids are playing, the baby is napping, so why not ramble on a bit. It's been ages. I have no wisdom to impart, no funny stories. Andy is playing Wii, the girls are playing cars (!)and outside is some crazy overachiever plowing his driveway in 14 degree weather. Not me.

Ah....for the love of a snow day. Joy and peace. I will not work today. Kevin already called to suggest meeting up for dinner at a fast food restaurant. While I'm not inclined to get dressed at any point today, tomorrow begins P90X, so no more fast food for a very long time. Maybe he'll drive through and come home instead. I'd hate to have to brush my teeth. Just kidding- I wouldn't do that to Paula!

I hear some kids asking each other , "When is it lunch time?" so my rambling must come to an end. It's awful dang cold outside- too cold for little people to spend much time. I think we'll have some lunch, play a little more Wii and maybe later pop some corn, build a fire and watch a Christmas movie- because yes, it is still the Christmas season and we are gonna celebrate every blessed minute of it!

Merry Christmas to you. I hope you get a surprise day off soon!

Christmas Cleaning

2008-12-24T09:20:00.004-05:00

Well, tomorrow is Christmas, which means today is Christmas Eve. We are down to the wire in preparations. All my wrapping is done. I need to label and bow the presents, though I may not get around to bowing. Andy wants Nutella cookies, so we'll make one last batch before Mass this evening. My biggest project today, as every year, is getting the house clean enough for Christmas.

I was talking about this yearly endeavor with some friends of mine, who also partake in this yearly task. Yesterday, the kids stripped the beds so I could wash the sheets- and mattress pad,even. Then I set them to work cleaning their bedrooms so they could be vacuumed. That is the "v" word here in our home, always drawing nervous tears from Emma who is terrified I will suck up a Polly Pocket shoe, never to be seen again. I don't blame her, it's a real possibility. Those shoes are microscopic! The cleaning took 4 hours with all the playing and running around that took place in between my shouts of "You'd better be cleaning up there!".

Another friend of mine was sharing how she was glad she got the toilet cleaned yesterday so she didn't have to do it today and still another friend told how she had to steam clean the carpets because her daughter spilled a cup of milk and didn't want the whole house curdling. Not only that, but she had her kids cleaning their rooms under fear that Santa might not bring new toys to kids who don't take care of their old ones.

Amid all of this, one good friend was looking at us perplexed. "Why is everyone cleaning their homes before Christmas? Is this a Catholic tradition I missed in my RCIA classes. Why do you clean your house before the mess is made on Christmas day?" She was curious and confused.

Here is my response:

"Well, Kathi, hmmm, you got me thinking. I thought everyone cleaned their house like I do before Christmas. Yes, it must be tradition, but I don't know if it's a Catholic one. I can't have a dirty (not the same as messy) house on Christmas and it must be from childhood. It must be part of "making straight the path" so Jesus can enter and not trip on all the crap and see all the dust bunnies (and worse). My mom would always say things like, "Is this house clean enough for the Pope?" (No, it never- NEVER- was with 6 kids in a 3 bedroom apartment!) So that must be where it comes from for me. My house is just this side of "cesspool" most of the year, but on Christmas it ABSOLUTELY must be clean, no matter how much my legs are swelling or sciatica in my back. That kind of drive, for me, can only come from tradition. Too bad it will only last until breakfast the next day when milk and cereal once again begin a committed relationship with my kitchen floors.

By the way, the sheets got washed because Renee had a diaper leak, so I figured that was a sign from God that it was time to wash my poor kids' sheets. (I won't tell you how long it had been since they were last washed, but if I needed prompting from God, that should tell you something.)"

Of course the most important preparation-and it must be said- is preparing our hearts for Jesus. If the house doesn't get cleaned, that's unfortunate, but not critical. Our heart is the home Jesus wants to enter. A clean home can be the outward sign of an inward preparation, or it can be a smokescreen. First things first. In the midst of cleaning, let's be sure our hearts are turned to Him and that all the work we do is for love of Him.

Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Three stitches and a corneal abrasion

2008-07-31T14:42:00.005-04:00

Yes, that's right. Three stitches and a corneal abrasion between 2 of the kids. Here's what happened:

I took the kids creekin' last week (that's playing in the creek, for you cityfolk) with Joanie. Andy's eye had been red ever since. Monday I took him to the pediatrician. Christian, Andy's good buddy, came with us to lend moral support and help Andy be brave. Andy was found to have an abrasion on his eye and had to wear a patch. He was not happy about it until Christian got a patch first and then they got to be pirate brothers. They were such good kids, I took them to DQ for ice cream. We went home at our leisure, having a nice evening.

When I got to Christian's house, where the rest of my kids were playing, I learned that Emma had fallen at another friend's house and cut a big, nasty gash in her knee. Her friend's dad carried her all the way to Julie's house with Emma screaming at the top of her lungs. I forgot my cell phone, so while I was gone, Julie came in the back door of my house to search for my first aid kit for butterfly bandaids. When she couldn't find it, she went door-to-door, scouring the neighborhood for them. No one had any. By the time I got to Julie's our whole block was involved, including consultation from a firefighter and a nurse on whether or not she needed stitches. All this happened while Andy and Christian were getting brain freeze on Blizzards.

I took Emma home to bandage her up, took one look at that cut and said, "Uh-oh". I left the other kids with Julie and took Christian's big sister, Hannah, with us to urgent care (my first visit as a mother after 6 years, not bad) to help distract Emma. The doctor numbed her knee then shot it up with something else- Novocaine, maybe- then irrigated the wound. Emma was freaking out, as she is prone to do, so I asked Hannah to talk to her and take her mind off of it. Hannah gave her the play-by-play and said, "Emma, he's sticking a giant needle in your leg." Thanks, Hannah.

Emma ended up with three stitches in her left knee, no swimming and no long baths for two weeks until we go back to have them taken out. Andy, after 3 more hours spent at the ophthalmologist the next day, ended up with steroid antibiotic eye drops 4 times a day (fun) for two weeks.

Did I mention this all happened at the beginning of the week that Kevin was gone to Utah? Next week, I'm going to Utah!

Tastes Like Heaven

2007-10-29T13:08:00.000-04:00

&lt;br>"Tastes like heaven". If you told me 12 years ago that my husband would say this to me about my homemade tomato soup and grilled mozzarella and roasted red pepper sandwich, I would have laughed in your face and wondered how you could be so cruel.

I was raised in a home where money was tight and sense of culinary adventure was seriously lacking. My mother's idea of a spice rack consisted of salt and pepper. I can't blame her though. The lack of culinary expertise stretches back for generations. My husband's mother, on the other hand, is a professional cake decorator of international fame. I'm not kidding. She knows her way around the kitchen. I have a lot to live up to in this department.

I am not a detail-oriented person and certainly not a perfectionist. This isn't really detrimental to good cooking. It can still be done, if you are lucky. Let me explain myself further. I planned to make sweet potato casserole for dinner the other day. I went to the store and bought all the ingredients. When it came time to start making it, I realized I forgot the sweet potatoes. They weren't even on my list! Now you start to see the problem.

Take, for example, the first time I cooked for my future husband. I made meatloaf- a rather foolproof recipe...until I got my hands on it. Did you know, there is a significant difference between a tablespoon and a cup? There is really no way to fix a mistake of this magnitude, especially when it's a liquid. I was measuring ketchup and thought, "Hmm, this is a lot of ketchup. Oh well," and dumped it in. I proceeded to mix it up and wonder why it wasn't assimilating into the meat. Only then did I double check. Short of making a 10 pound meatloaf, it was beyond repair. I shamefacedly ordered pizza. Strike One.

The next time he came for dinner (brave soul), I decided to keep it ridiculously simple. I threw some fish sticks on a pan and into the oven. 18 minutes later I pulled them out of the oven cooked to perfection- except for the cat hair. It seems my roommates cat had made a home out of the cabinet with the baking sheets. Major league embarrassment and Strike Two.

My darling husband decided to take a chance that he could live despite my cooking, so he married me. Apparently he planned to eat a hearty lunch at work to avoid starving to death at dinner. I don't know what he planned to do for the weekends.

For our wedding we were given beautiful cookware by some well-meaning soul. I briefly considered using them as home decor and mounting them on the mantle rather than continue creating gastronomic disasters. However, I was raised to never say die- I might kill all my dinner guests, but I'd never say die.

The next 9 years were filled with foul-tips, to continue the metaphor in an unappetizing way. There have been countless dinners I've had to start twice and baking adventures where I've had to try to retrieve too much salt from a bowl of flour, baking soda and baking powder. I will tell you that it can be done. I've learned to get it right the second time around, usually not the first. But every once in a while, I hit a grandslam homerun. And the crowd goes wild.

Can you DIGG it?

2007-10-26T11:47:00.000-04:00

Like what you see on 3 Turkeys?

Several people have commented on how much they like Mary's stories as a stay-at-home Mom. Some have even suggested that she should try to get her stories published in some way.

Now you can help Mary get 'discovered' by Digging her stories. Digg is a website that tracks the popularity of news and blog articles across the web. Users can increase the popularity of a story by 'digging' the story. If the story gets enough diggs then it eventually makes it to the Front Page on the digg.com website. This is a really big deal and usually generates a lot of traffic.

If you like one of Mary's recent stories, simply click onto the "Digg This" button at the bottom of the story. If you are not a member of digg.com you will need to sign up for a FREE account. Don't worry, you will not be suffocated with SPAM just for signing up.

Now go get digging!

A Day in the Life of....

2007-10-25T16:17:00.001-04:00

I was worried about going because it had been raining for two days straight. But the morning news sounded promising, so we decided to take a chance on the farm. I picked Emma up from school, stopped by the library to pick up my books on reserve and get a few books (read: 20) for the kids that they chose (by chose, I mean randomly pulled off the shelves when I was looking up books on the catalog and I, in an effort to pretend it was all part of my plan, couldn't leave them behind). That little errand took longer than expected leaving us a mere 20 minutes to get home, have Emma change out of her uniform and put on play clothes and shoes, and make the kids lunch to eat in the car. I couldn't be late or the group would go in without me and I'd lose the group discount. It's okay, though. That's how I roll.

Belting Emma in the car and opening my Diet Coke, I backed out of the garage while tossing a bag of pb&j sandwiches over my shoulder to Emma to pass out. We high-tailed it to the farm down country roads in time to meet my group and things were going well. The kids were excited because I'd hedged my bets and didn't tell them where we were going in case we were late. Even better, kids under two are admitted free so Renee got in with a 2 day cushion!

It was a beautiful autumn day going exactly as I hoped- until we sat down. Our admission included donuts, apple juice, hay ride and pumpkin. While eating donuts, Renee got stung by a yellow jacket. Emma freaked out in empathy and Renee screamed as loud as her almost two-year old-lungs would scream. The best I could do was ice it down while wondering if ice was contraindicated in insect stings and considering how much grief would result from an early departure. I mean, we hadn't even made it to the hay slides in the barn. Eventually someone suggested that they may have a more extensive first aid kit in the store. So I left Emma and Andy with relative strangers to lug a screaming toddler with boogies and tears streaming down her face and a sting swollen to the size of a marble to an unsympathetic cashier in the general store. She behaved as though Renee should have known better than to tempt a bee with a donut. Finally I discovered that they had one last sting wipe at the ticket booth. In this place, it's a race against time to collect the last wipe before some other innocent gets stung. So I ran.

When I got back to my other kids, they were ready to move into the highlight of the trip: the hay slide. "This should be fun," I thought. And it was, kinda. Until I noticed that Emma had decided to wear her school shoes to the farm, which were now caked in mud and straw. Renee got stuck at the top of the hay bales and required rescue. Then, walking around the bottom, she sunk up to her arm pits in loose hay.

"That's ok," I thought, "I'll just carry her up to the top and send her down the slide. Never mind the much older unsupervised field trip kids who never heard of waiting your turn and one at a time. I'll go up there and whip them into shape for a second or two- long enough to get my brood one ride on the slide."

So I flung Renee under my arm and navigated through knee-high slippery hay to the top of the highest slide. I worked my way through the mayhem and planted my arm behind my kids to ward off invaders. Field trip kids were squirming around me, oblivious to the fact that there was an adult on the scene. I used my most parental voice, then, when that didn't work, brushed off my stern teacher voice. That seemed to jar their brains long enough to get my three down the slide and safely out of the way at the bottom.

Once we had had enough concentrated allergens, we left the barn and headed out to the pumpkin patch to choose three pumpkins. Of course, nothing but the heaviest pumpkins will do for my kids, so I was so thankful for the hayride that took us halfway back to the parking lot, despite the fact that it deposited us in a pool of mud. On the ride back, a friend of mind cheerfully suggested that I
immediately put the kids in a bath when I get home because, rumor has it, a kid came down with a case of lice after rolling around in the hay barn last season. Oy vey.

Having finally made it to the car, getting everyone situated with back-up snacks for the drive home, I started down the road anticipating the peaceful ride that comes from a car full of exhausted children. The peace was broken with a shriek of terror emanating from my eldest. A renegade yellow jacket had stowed away in our car and was buzzing precariously close to our earlier victim. Rolling down the windows at 65 miles per hour did nothing to rid us of our problem. This country road didn't have a shoulder, so I pulled over into an unsuspecting country dwellers front yard, opened all the doors and windows and began waving my arms wildly. This magical bee charming dance worked and it bumbled out of the car.

We made it home safely and, incredibly, without further incident. The kids were unceremoniously plopped into a bath and scrubbed rigorously for fear of hatching eggs (my head itches just thinking about it)....(Oh, dear). Then rushed to a neighbors house and dropped off in time for me to be one minute late to Emma's parent-teacher conference for kindergarten. (Good report, by the way). I hurried home to pick up the kids and miscounted. I ended up with one extra, who was very well behaved and made up for the one of my own who threw the mother of all temper tantrums because he didn't get to play Honey Bee Tree.

I spent the next hour staring into the refrigerator trying to piece together a meal from odds and ends. I pulled everything out and found leftovers in the deepest part of the fridge that had not quite reached their expiration date. Dinner is served!

My husband left for a meeting immediately after dinner resulting in a pout fest from Emma, who laid enough guilt on him that I wouldn't be surprised if he stayed home from work tomorrow. With him gone, it was left to me to rally the kids for the final put-away of the day. When I say "rally", what I mean is: The Discipline Continuum. It started with announcing the time, "Time to clean up". Followed by a direct order, "Help put away the toys, now." Followed by an if-then statement "If I have to pick up your toys, then I will put them away in the basement". I won't tell you what comes next.

Emma helped clean the kitchen, Andy eventually picked up the toys in the family room. Renee, well, she ran around in delirious, nap-deprived circles the whole time saying, "I'm Cinderella" over and over again.

Now the house is quiet. Kevin is out for the evening, the kids are in bed and I have a date with the tv and a glass of wine. Not a bad day.

&lt;br>

Andy's Third Birthday

2007-09-24T13:35:00.000-04:00

Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again, time flies when you aren't looking. It doesn't seem possible that we've celebrated Andy's 3rd birthday. Really, it doesn't. It seems I was just lamenting over the loss of his baby days on his second birthday, and here I am embarking on the realm of the preschool years.

Andy has gone from a baby whom we couldn't quite understand, to a preschooler who makes his wishes know clearly. A little too clearly, sometimes. He is now completely "daytime" potty trained. Today is the first day he is taking a nap with no diaper....ummm, scary. We'll see in a couple hours how that turns out. He's learned to pedal a bike and pull himself up onto the swing. He's given up his pacifier and traded in his toddler bed for a big boy bed in full dinosaur mode. Much to Kevin's chagrin, his color of choice is pink. To make up for that lapse in judgment, he's also taken to rough housing with his sisters, whether or not they like it. Needless to say, sometimes there is a lot of crying in this house.

Andy's interests these days include cars, trucks, boats, trains, planes (do you see a commonality, here?), dinosaurs, tools. Pretty much the typical boy things. He also loves books and the Littlest Pet Shop. However, his greatest love is dogs. The kid can't get enough of dogs. I can only thank Renee that we don't have one yet. She is terrified of real dogs. If not for that, I know I would have caved to Andy's love of dogs. How could I possible resist him? Kevin says he would not allow such a mistake, but let's face it, he's allowed it twice before. (This reminds me of a quote I once saw on a sugar packet, "Experience is that marvelous thing that enables you to recognize a mistake when you make it again." - Franklin P. Jones)( One of my favorites).

Which leads us to the theme of Andy's 3rd birthday. A friend of mine starts planning her daughters birthdays 6 months in advance and after this undertaking, I will follow suit. It was a dog themed party in which the feature attraction was a cake that looked like Tony's brother. Tony, for the uninitiated, is Andy's favorite dog. He was a gift to Renee when she was a baby, but Andy's love for him was greater, so Tony became Andy's dog. This cake was probably the most awesome cake I've ever made. I'm serious. I LOVE this dog! Guess what he's made of. Wrong! Not cake. He is a pound cake body, Twinkie legs, Ding Dong haunches, chocolate stick tail, muffin head, marshmallow ears and nose covered with butter cream icing and decorated with m&ms, and sour belts. I couldn't bear to eat him, so I made cupcakes too.

At his party, we did more than just stare at the dog cake. The kids played on the playground in the back yard. I painted the kids faces to look like dogs and each kid got a pair of dog ears made of felt and custom sown elastic band. I made a dog house out of cardboard boxes and spray paint, which we then used to play Don't get caught in the doghouse- like reverse musical chairs. Then we played "Puppy, Puppy, Dog" That was a big hit. The parents all got a kick out of it, too.

After that we played Red Rover. The kids got to eat their cake and ice cream out of real dog bowls with their names painted on. When they were done, I filled up the bowls with puppy chow mix and dog stickers and tatoos. It was so much fun. This was our first party at home. We had 16 kids from 6 families. I may have to break my arm patting myself on the back, because it was totally awesome!

So, welcome to the preschool years, Andy. I can't wait to see what you do next!

End of Summer

2007-09-24T13:10:00.002-04:00

Alice and Kate came to Ohio for Kate's softball tourny. Luckily for us, her team lost so we were able to spend a couple days with them both.

In an attempt to start a new family tradition, the kids and I celebrated the Feast of the Assumption by having a "tea" party. We served chocolate chip cookies and strawberry milk. The Blessed Mother was our special guest. After tea, we travelled the garden blessing the herbs and flowers with holy water. You should see the basil now!

The Third Annual Guffey Drive Block Party included live music this year. One of our neighbors is in a Christian rock band. They performed to a packed audience of preschoolers. The show was almost cancelled due to tornado warning sirens that sounded for a full half hour.

In the backyard, the kids enjoyed the setting sun. Renee seems to have caught on that setting sun means bedtime.

Andy has become a rough housing boy. Here he tackles an unsuspecting Emma.

Emma's First Day of Kindergarten

2007-08-30T15:43:00.002-04:00

Well, the day finally came. I've been looking forward to it with a mix of longing and trepidation. It's not as though she hasn't been in preschool these last too years, but for some reason, sending her to kindergarten has been one of the major stresses in my life.

It all started several months ago, before her 5th birthday. I woke up to realize that my 7lb 10oz baby was now a lanky 42 pounder, or the roughly the size of 2 very large Thanksgiving turkeys. It occurred to me that she was going to be going out into the world to be influenced by it, for better or for worse. Begin stress and worry here- X
After considering our options, including home schooling (if you can believe that of me!), we settled on our parish school.

You might think that finding peace in that area would alleviate any doubts and allow me to send her off with a hop and a skip and a jump. You'd be wrong. Today, as we pulled into the school parking lot, avoiding the "Cone Zone", (drop off procedures always remind me of Mr. Mom, "South to drop off Moron!") and parked the car, I made sure to stuff some extra kleenex into my pocket. Emma was all smiles as she sat in Mrs. Schmidts line of kindergarteners. I was all smiles with quivering lip and thick voice as I said, "I love you. Have a good time." My friend Julie, mother of a 2nd grader, saw me getting weepy and teared up herself. (It's a good friend who cries< along with you). Mrs. Donovan, the principal, comforted me by saying how she cried at the first day of kindergarten, high school and college for all her kids. Kevin finally alerted me to the fact that mothers are not allowed in kindergarten, and thus dragged me away.

So, how was Emma's first day of school for Emma? Well, we woke her up at 6:45. I said, "Good morning, Emma. Time to wake up." She responds in a groggy, slightly outraged voice, "Why?!" She got up and proceeded to put on her entire uniform: blouse with buttons, jumper with button and zipper, headband, socks and shoes all by herself while I sat there encouraging her. Halfway through the procedure, she said, "Kindergarten is too early. It's still night outside." (What can I say, she's her mother's daughter) She was very excited to go to school, impatient in fact. She quickly got tired of the photo shoot and so there was nothing left to do but deposit her in her place in line.

What did she do at school? Getting Emma to tell me about her day is like pulling teeth. I learned from her that she met "Mr M" a letter person who has a m-m-m-munching m-m-m-mouth and eats m-m-m-milkshakes and m-m-m-marshmallows. Other than that? Who knows! At curriculum night tonight we found out she also had music and snack and made a turtle for display in the hallway. She forgot to give the turtle to the assistant, so it wasn't up for display. I had to interview her teacher to make sure it was misplaced and not due to misbehavior. Good news.

So, tomorrow, Kevin will begin his new routine of driving Emma to school before work and Andy, Renee and I can stay at home in our jammies. Yes, our little girl is growing up. I want her to grow up, but I want her to stay my little baby. A cruel twist of irony, if you ask me.

The Summer Invasion

2007-07-19T20:23:00.000-04:00

The second annual Summer Invasion went off without a hitch. Thank God! There were no unusual excretory/ digestive malfunctions, so we were able to have a lovely time.
The weather couldn't have been more beautiful either. Basically it was the complete opposite of last summer. The only sad news to report is that Francis will be requiring an intervention in about 6 years. He's fallen in with some long horns and he's headed for the wrong side of the ranch. Kevin and I tried to whip some sense into him, but.... oh, I just don't know what's wrong with that boy. There may be only one thing left to do: saw varsity's horns off! Gig 'em

Funny Things Kids Say

2007-07-19T20:17:00.000-04:00

(Keep an eye out. I'll be adding to this periodically.)

"Andy, don't tell Daddy what to do. You're not the Mom." - Emma, age 5

Emma's 5th Birthday

2007-04-04T20:28:00.000-04:00

Well, our firstborn has turned 5. I cannot believe how quickly time has gone by. The week coming up to her birthday, all I could do was think about her as a tiny newborn, replaying the precious memories in my mind. Some of those early memories were not so precious, but gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach remembering how horrible I felt and how afraid I was all the time. Being a first-time mom and secretly suffering from postpartum depression clouded some of those sweet days.

Emma is the trailblazer. Our precious princess who loves Cinderella, Barbie, and playing Monster. Her preschool teacher, Miss Julia, tells us that Emma is the leader of the boys! I could NOT believe that! Yes, Miss Julia says that Emma is the only girl the boys play with, in fact the only girl whose name they have learned after 9 months of school! If Emma tells the boys to do something, they do it. I say, "Hone that skill, girl!" She plays dolls with the girls and monster with the boys.

Her birthday party was wonderful. We went to the Clay Cafe and painted pottery. Invited was Nathan, Luke, William and Nicholas, Jaron, Jillian, Hannah and Karalei. So, right there you can see that boys outnumbered girls. I made a Cinderella cake that took me 3 days and turned out really well! Emma's big 5 year old present from us was a new princess bike. It was a fun day.

Scotch ....3 fingers, please.

2006-12-20T16:43:00.000-05:00

These kids are about to drive me to drink! Today I've had one disaster after another. After breakfast, Emma threw a fit because Andy tore her favorite "magazine" (really and American Girl catalog). While I was making their lunch, Renee emptied the fireplace of all the little stones and tossed them all over the living room carpet, the kid has an arm. During naptime, Andy snuck out of his room went down to my bathroom took the toothpaste and Kevin's toothbrush back to his bathroom where he did heaven knows what with them causing me to have to throw out the toothbrush because he loves to play in the potty. Then he climbed up on the sink, opened the medicine cabinet turned on Emma's Hello Kitty toothbrush and started clearing the shelves of all the (thankfully) childproof-capped medicine. My kitchen floor is covered in chunks of grilled cheese, dried-up and stuck-on Rice Krispies and drips of milk from the "drip-proof" cups. The Christmas tree looks like it was decorated by a deranged elf and there are cookie crumbs under the dining room table where Andy and Emma enjoyed contraband Christmas cookies. I need a glass of something strong before I start wrapping Christmas presents for the girls and boy on Santa's "nice" list. Santa and I need to have a little talk, maybe over margaritas?

Emma's Ballet Recital

2006-12-19T14:24:00.000-05:00

I don't know if you've ever seen a 4-year-old perform, but you absolutely should jump at your next opportunity. You never saw anything this adorable/ hilarious. I swear to you, I wanted to run up on the stage just to squeeze her when it was over.

The YMCA ballet classes performed a Christmas program at the senior center. All the girls wore red leotards and white tutus with sequence. Emma's class danced to "Jolly Old St. Nicholas". So there she was with 7 other girls. The look on her face when she was performing was priceless. You could see the pride in her eyes as she mimicked her teacher who was in the back of the auditorium. She performed flawlessly as did maybe 2 other girls. The rest were standing or waving, one was crying. Then the girls had to gallop in a circle, but only 5 of them wanted to. The other 2 were planted firmly in their spots until the circle met them. Then the traffic stalled. I could see Emma up there saying "Go!" and she pushed a little girl out of the way so the rest of them could finish. It was all very graceful and done on tip-toe. At the end of the performance the girls all blew kisses to the audience.

The rest of the show was pretty much the same. Adorable girls galloping into a dead stop when someone else didn't move. Another girl ran off stage to kiss her mom and was brought back only to spend the whole song tying her ballet slippers.

I can tell you this: Even when my kids are grown, I will never turn down an invitation to a preschool dance recital. It's too good too pass up.

Can I Get Down?

2006-11-13T20:43:00.000-05:00

Andy's favorite words at dinner time are "Can I get down?" Here is a video of Andy entertaining us around the dinner table.

New Family Members

2006-11-12T19:15:00.000-05:00

Recently my mom came to town to visit me. Having last seen Andy when he was 2 weeks old and never having met Renee, she was due. More about that later.

Turns out, a benefit to our move here is our close proximity to Cincinnati. "Who cares about Cincinnati?" you may ask. Well, now I do. You see, the cousins my mom told stories about throughout my childhood are real. Until recently I wasn't at all sure they weren't figments of her rather active imagination. How do I know this? I've seen them with my own eyes- hugged them, even. They are truly generous and kind people who I am proud to call my family. I took pictures...I hope you can see them, too.

My Grandmother's family tree

My Mother's cousin, Mary Clare, on Grandpa's side

Mama at her parents' graves

Mama and her cousin, Margaret

Mama and her cousin, Lois

The cousins: Lois, Mary Clare, Barbara and Margaret

Me with Mama's cousins: Bob, Bob's wife Sharon, Mama, Margaret, Lois and Me and the bust of my Great Grandfather Schaible sculpted by Mama's late cousin, Dorothea

Renee's First Birthday

2006-11-06T15:10:00.000-05:00

Well, I know it sounds cliche', but it seems like just yesterday Renee was born. This past year just flew by. It was quite a busy year for our family. Getting a house ready for the market, house-hunting, buying, selling and moving cross-country is all very exhausting. Add to that a broken arm and 6 weeks in a cast for the primary care giver and you've got yourself a whirlwind of a year. No wonder she seems to have grown up so fast.

Aside from all the craziness, Renee's first year was delightful. Never was there an easier baby. She was simply a joy to be around from the day she was born. She started sleeping through the night at 6 weeks, God love 'er. She ate everything we ever fed her with nary a complaint, who could blame her for rejecting baby food meat- ugh! She smiles and laughs so easily and has a high threshold for pain, an unusual trait for a baby, to be sure, probably developed by her older sister and brother playing with her too hard.

Renee's favorite thing is probably dancing, as witnessed in the video posted earlier. She will dance to even the faintest music. With her enthusiastic wiggling, she can persuade me from even the grumpiest of moods. She is a ray of sunshine in our hearts. Her Daddy and I love her so much, it almost hurts. Happy birthday, our sweet, darling ReRe-CoCo-Cups.

Dancing Turkeys

2006-10-29T12:47:00.000-05:00

Andy and Renee dancing in the car to Laurie Berkner.

Andy turns 2

2006-10-04T11:04:00.000-04:00

It's hard to believe but it's true. My young Andy turned 2 years old. I don't know where the time goes. Next year he'll be 3 and going to preschool. What's going on around here?

It's so funny to watch kids grow up, especially in the toddler years . They learn so much inside a year. Last year Andy had never had cake and now his favorite word is "chocowit". A year ago, he was the youngest child and he still slept in a crib in New Jersey. Now he's the middle child and in a big boy bed in Ohio.

He's become obsessed with dinosaurs, seemingly out of the blue. One day I tried to get him dressed to take Emma to school which means taking off the dino jammies. It was never a problem before, but this day he had a leg-kicking, arm-waving, eardrum-busting tantrum like I have never heard. He kept yelling something indeciferable, or so I thought, until Emma came in and said "He says he wants to be a dinosaur". From then on it's dinosaurs everyday. Don't ask me how this came about. I don't know.

I made him a Blue's Clues birthday cake because, even though he just runs around when it's on, he always asks to watch it. Blue called Andy on the phone and talked to him about his birthday. "Bow bow bow". Andy and Emma both got a giant kick out of this.

For his birthday we went to the Circle S farm, a family friendly place with a hay barn and a pumpkin patch. It was the perfect day. We walked through a sunflower maze and a corn maze, the kids climbed bales of hay to the top of a slide an came rushing down. We stopped for lunch and apple cider and the kids climbed on giant pumpkins. We took a hayride out to the pumpkin patch and enjoyed looking at about 100 pumpkins before we settled on our 4, which are now on the front porch.

And now our young monkey is 2. An exciting year is ahead. He will learn to use the potty, peddle his tricycle and learn to be more independent. I look forward to these new accomplishments only slightly more than I feel sad about him leaving behind his baby days .

One if by land, Two if by sea, Three if by funny farm

2006-10-04T10:16:00.000-04:00

We recently returned from our "vacation" to Boston. What took me so long to add this post? Well, I had to let time soften the edges of the memory. Nobody wants to read a rant! We were completely exhausted from travelling with 3 small children who don't understand the idea of waiting quietly or resting in the middle of the day. So, now that enough time has gone by and I can look at our pictures and think, "That was fun", I'm ready to write.

We spent the weekend at a wedding with Kevin's family. The kids were pretty good at the ceremony, unless you count Renee trying to pull my dress off every 2 minutes. When I got up to go to communion, I almost had a "wardrobe malfunction" in the middle of church- YIKES! The reception was pretty fun. Emma had a good time dancing with the ring bearer and flower girl who are her 2nd cousins, by my calculations. She wanted to stay up for the wedding cake so badly that she just kept dancing until she hit the wall. I was spinning her in circles and she was laughing until all of a sudden she stopped moving dropped her hands to her side and went catatonic. She spent the rest of the night in Daddy's lap until the cake finally came.

The next morning there was a brunch for the out of town guests at the hotel. Andy met his cousin and his friends and quickly started acting like a boy. He had a good time wrestling with the bigger guys. It was pretty cute to see him wrestle with boys since he's always running around with Emma. Poor kid always has to be Prince Charming. Later that day we went apple picking at Nashua winery. I recommend you never pick apples at a winery. They are the snobs of the pick-your-own industry. We ate extra apples just to make up for their snottiness.

The weather during the week we spent in Boston was beautiful. We couldn't have had it any better. Thanks to Uncle Scott we were able to stay in a really nice hotel right in the Theater District 2 blocks from Boston Common. We spent most of our time walking in the Common, playing at Tadpole Playground, and having picnics in the grass. One day we walked over to the Public Gardens to see the Make Way for Ducklings statues. The kids got a big kick out of climbing all over them. Right around rush hour we walked across the bridge and the kids kept screaming to the live ducks, "Hello, ducklings" at the top of their lungs. We got several chuckles from the passersby. One day we walked all the way through Beacon Hill and over the highway looking for the Charlesbank playground, but turned the wrong way. So instead of playing we had a lovely walk along the river on a crisp autumn day. We found a hollow tree to play in and some beautiful weeping willows to sit beneath.

If you ever go to Boston with kids, you must not miss the Boston Children's Mu seum. We had the most fun with the kids there. After the renovations are complete it will get 5 stars from me. Right now it only gets 4 because it doesn't have a restaurant and the elevators are soooo slooooow. But the kids had such a good time doing all the experiments with the Blue Man group room, they got to shop in a little mercado, they did art projects and story time. We were there for 4 hours and didn't even get half way through. They even had an awesome playroom for under 2 years. Andy and Renee played house and trains and climbed a little tree house. Truly, it was lots of fun for Kevin and me, too.

After all the walking around and all the great restaurants and seafood, Kevin and I thought it would be so nice to retire in Boston. That is until 2 am when the comedy club next to our hotel let out. One minute, we're sleeping soundly 12 floors up, next minute- FIREWORKS! Some schmuck was setting off firecrackers in the parking lot and another group of people are yelling profanities at each other. I went back to sleep and dreamt of retiring in Ohio and travelling to visit more exotic places.

Will I go back to Boston? Abso-freakin-lutely. But not until my kids are much older.

Graeter's Ice Cream

2006-07-25T22:40:00.000-04:00

So far, one of our greatest finds in Ohio is Graeter's Ice Cream. Our family eats a LOT of ice cream and we consider ourselves quite the ice cream connoisseurs. By unanimous decision we have declared Graeter's as the best ice cream we have ever had. This stuff is the perfect consistency... not too hard, not too soft. And their specialty is these chocolate chunks that they add to the ice cream that somehow do not get "break-your-teeth" hard when frozen. Their ice cream is so popular that they even sell coolers and dry ice for those traveling several hours for a taste of the sweet "Double Chocolate Chunk".

Oprah has included Graeter's Ice Cream as one of her "favorite things" and as you can see... Andy boy definitely agrees