A New House

Or, at least the kids think it looks like one. We've purchased a large shed. I was kind of getting tired of the sawdust all over the clean clothes, so, new work space it is, then! David is very happy and has spent the day filling it up with all his essentials--paint, paintings and painting utensils. There will be other stuff in there too, but I won't go into that lest some stranger happen across this blog and try to rob us (except for the large dog we'll be putting in the middle of the shed, I'll tell you about that).

Daisy woke up this morning feeling kind of yucky. But I won't tell you much about that either because I know some people (like my mother) just don't have the stomach for, um, that kind of stuff. I made her some ginger tea and we're hopeful she'll start feeling better soon.

Perry and Daisy are having such fun playing outside in the new drainage ditch. It's not quite finished, but hopefully it will be soon.

Calvin has started getting up onto his knees. It might not be all that long before we have three mobile children in the house.

Wake-up Call

Funny? Yes. But thankfully, not Me and Calvin. Probably more like me and Perry--when he was little(r). But now being on our third little one, I've grown a little more, um, less sensitive to their cries. I remember having a really hard time not picking Perry up every time he cried. David had to hold me down once or twice so I would just let him cry it out--which was something I had read up on before his birth and was committed to doing under the right circumstances. It was a little harder to do than I had anticipated. I quickly got accustomed to it, though.

I don't exactly remember how we dealt with Daisy on this. I suspect she was a little easier than Perry. Though she was a velcro baby (wanting to be held all the time).

In the mornings with them I basically got up At First Cry. There was no way I could get any rest with my little baby crying in the next room. Not that any of my babies have been real keen on crying, actually. They kind of yell out a little shout every few seconds, pausing and listening in between. It's as if they are saying "Mommy!" Listen. "I'm in here!" Listen "Come and get me!"

But now with Calvin... As long as he's not really crying, I don't get out of bed until Perry comes to get me up--usually after 7am. Even then it takes me approximately ten minutes of eye fluttering to work up to stumbling out of bed. Thankfully Perry's so wonderfully patient with me.

I wonder what I'll be like after, say, our tenth baby. Hopefully I won't require a nuclear explosion to rouse me from my slumber.

It's Here!

Yesterday we saw something we haven't seen in a long while. Squirrels! We went outside to play, hunted down all the dandelion puffs we could find and blew them all over the yard (like responsible homeowners don't do).

Ahh... I do believe Spring is finally here.

But then again, maybe it isn't quite here. We're really nervous about that. What if it continues to get warmer and warmer but then we get a late frost like we did last year. Then all our trees will lose their blossoms and we'll be left with another fruitless year--literally. No pears, no plumbs, no peaches, and no apples. I was worrying myself sick over it last week but then realized I can't do anything about it. If it's going to freeze, it's going to freeze.

In the meantime, I can enjoy the squirrels.

Arithmetic

This reminds me of one of my favorite poems by Carl Sandburg. It's called Arithmetic:



Arithmetic is where numbers fly like pigeons in and out of your head.

Arithmetic tells you how many you lose or win if you know how many you had before you lost or won.

Arithmetic is seven eleven all good children go to heaven - or five six bundle of sticks.

Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your head to your hand to your pencil to your paper till you get the answer.

Arithmetic is where the answer is right and everything is nice and you can look out of the window and see the blue sky - or the answer is wrong and you have to start all over and try again and see how it comes out this time.

If you take a number and double it and double it again and double it a few more times, the number gets bigger and bigger and goes higher and higher and only arithmetic can tell you what the number is when you decide to quit doubling.

Arithmetic is where you have to multiply - and you carry the multiplication table in your head and hope you won't lose it.

If you have two animal crackers, one good and one bad, and you eat one and a striped zebra with streaks all over him eats the other, how many animal crackers will you have if somebody offers you five six seven and you say No no no and you say Nay nay nay and you say Nix nix nix?

If you ask your mother for one fried egg for breakfast and she gives you two fried eggs and you eat both of them, who is better in arithmetic, you or your mother?

On the Job Training

David loves sausage, biscuits and gravy. But there are degrees of love. He doesn’t love them enough to wake up on a Saturday morning and us all out to a restaurant just so he can have his beloved breakfast. He’s much too frugal for that. There are things I love that much, like pancakes for instance, but since I’m not the bacon-bringer-homer, I make my own. And that’s how he loves sausage, biscuits and gravy—enough to ask me to make them for him on a somewhat regular basis.

The first year we were married I really wanted to make his birthday special. I asked him the day before if there was anything specific he wanted to eat the next day. What he really wanted was sausage, biscuits and gravy but since we were trying to be vegetarians, he guessed I shouldn’t make it for him. We had only been vegetarians for a short time, and it was before we adopted the high moral stance of believing that special events like birthdays were exempt from any dampening of the holiday.

The next morning he woke up to the smell of his favorite breakfast. He stumbled into the kitchen where I greeted him with a cup of coffee and the confirmation that his nose had not deceived him.

He initially dug into the first few bites with relish and then slowed to ask how I had made it. I hadn’t yet decided weather I would tell him, but since he asked:

“Well, the sausage is soy sausage and the biscuits and gravy are made with soymilk!” It was evident I thought I was very clever, but that he didn’t.

“The soymilk that’s in the fridge?”

“Uh-huh.”

“The same soymilk that I just put in my coffee?”

“Yes….” My smile faded into puzzlement now. He stood up, walked to the refrigerator and opened it.

“Rachel, this is vanilla soymilk.”

I tasted my Frankenstein’s monster for the first time. It was sickeningly sweet—though the texture and undertone were reminiscent of what I had tried to create.

Even though I told him he didn’t have to, he choked down the entire plate.

Baby Blues II: The Continuation

Last night we couldn't get Daisy to eat her dinner. It's been starting to concern us because she hasn't really been interested in eating for a couple of weeks now. Oh, she'll eat all the white bread I give her, minus the crust--but as the Good Book says, "Man does not live by bread alone."

Anyway, David had the good idea of putting ketchup on her food last night in hopes of tempting her to eat it. But he didn't want to open up the gigantic can of ketchup we bought at Sam's Club (hey, does it really save you money if you never use it but instead go out and buy a whole bunch of little bottles because you don't want the contents of your huge can to spoil?) But, I digress... What's the next best thing to ketchup? Barbecue sauce! Or, as David lovingly referred to it, High Fructose Corn Syrup Sauce.

Oh, it tempted her all right. Next thing we knew she was gagging on a mouth full of cabbage, trying to suck the barbecue sauce off it.

That was kind of it for dinner for me--at least until after they had gone to bed.

Baby Blues

I've been wanting to add the Baby Blues strip to my blog for a while now--just because I love it. Enjoy!

Musical Construction

This is a picture of our back yard. No, they're not putting in a pool--I wish they were! They're widening the drainage ditch that runs through the yard.



Notice how few men are working on it right now. That's because they're too busy...



getting ice cream from the ice cream truck.



The ice cream truck went through the neighborhood last week, too. The kids and I were playing in the back yard at the time (dodging construction equipment). Perry heard the infamous music and wandered toward it, like a bug toward light. This was his first experience with the ice cream truck so he just wanted to find out where the music was coming from. I had to call him back--but not before the truck driver saw us, stopped in front of our house, and then realizing we weren't going to buy any of its wares, slowly drove away.

Perry said, "Did you hear that truck making music? Was that so silly?"

"Yes, I heard it, it was so silly."

"Why was it making music?"

"Um... Yes, I heard it, it was so silly."

I didn't want to lie, but I didn't really want to tell the truth either.

Post-nap Snack

It's just after nap-time. Perry and Daisy are sitting on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn their father gave them to share. He leaves the room and then returns. Perry has moved the bowl from between he and his sister to the other side of the sofa--out of her reach:

David: Perry, you're supposed to be sharing that popcorn with Daisy.

Perry: I decided not to.

Just another one of those times you have to leave the room so he won't see you laughing.

Treasure Hunting

Yesterday evening Perry and Daisy were playing in the living room. While walking through I heard Perry tell her, "Daisy, you are my little treasure." Which is something their father says to them often.

Daisy's answer? What else. "Noooooo."

She responds the same way when I tell her she's beautiful. It's a game for her--to say "no" to whatever you've just said, and then you say it again so she can say it again and grin. You can read the happiness in her smile, the knowledge that she's loved. I'm ruing the day when we tell her she's our little treasure or that she's beautiful and she doesn't believe us. They mean so much to us, our little children do! I want them to always know and feel it. In some ways I wish we could shelter them from every negative thought. But I guess going through the self anxious period is just part of growing up. At least I have a few more years before that sets in.

Mommy: The Indoor Slide (a.k.a What I Want to Be)

I made curry for dinner tonight. It turned out to be too spicy for the children, so after they had their second helping of rice they scrambled out of their seats and ran into the living room to push each other in the stroller (Stroller in the living room? Don't ask.). David and I let out a sigh. We tried to keep them in their seats for a little while, but really dinner tonight was just so much more pleasant when it didn't include the entire family.

"I just want you to be happy, but you seem miserable," David said.

Miserable wasn't quite the word I would have chosen. But I was unhappy. These past few days have been really difficult. I tried to think hard about why.

"You know, it's much easier for me to be patient with the kids when they're not whining. I can talk to them, play with them, read to them, whatever...but when they start whining, It just breaks down all my defenses. It's like torture. The CIA should ban whining!"

"Maybe we should start disciplining them for whining."

So we told them. We told them about how our house had turned into an unhappy place because of their whining and that there wasn't going to be any more of it. This was their warning. The next person who whined was "in for it."

This decision made me feel a lot better. I suddenly felt like I was in control of the house again, rather than it swirling through chaos.



A little while later Perry pulled me into the living room to play with him. I had such a weight lifted off me that I was able to really have fun with them. I sat on the sofa while they jumped on me and tumbled off. Then Perry had the good idea of sliding down my outstretched legs onto the floor. They must have done this for ten minutes. It was really a riot--for me too. These are the moments I love. These the ones I want to have more of and remember. Hopefully, with our new household rule, we'll have more of these moments and less of the whining children and yelling, stressed and bummed out mommy.

Public Nurs-ance

A little while back we went to David's art opening. The gallery is a long, narrow, one room space in down-town Murfreesboro called The Alley. The joint doesn't open until 7:00PM and we thought long and hard beforehand on how we were going to attend this thing--since the kids' bed time is 7:00. The last time I didn't go to one of David's openings because of the children he was really bummed out about it--and understandably so. I make a point of going to them now, unless there's a really good reason not to. So our options were:

A) Get a sitter for Perry and Daisy while David, Calvin, and I go to the opening.

B) We all go.

Here's the clincher... The Alley doesn't close until 2:00 AM and we only have one car. Because David's art was there, he had to stay for at least most of the evening in hopes of selling some. In the end we wound up all going. The kids and I left at some sort of a reasonable hour and a friend stayed with David and brought him home much, much later. (Sorry for continuously commenting on how late this place is open, it's just so mind boggling to me why anyone in their right mind would want to be up that late, let alone be out).

We are always nervous when we go out in public at time intervals when the kids would otherwise be asleep. Will they melt into little puddles on the floor? But the kids behaved wonderfully.

While we were there, I had to nurse Calvin. I'm really used to nursing him in public and so it doesn't bother me. I just throw a blanket over my shoulder and the top of his head and we're good to go. No one has ever asked me to stop or to leave and I've got a quick come-back if they ever do.

Most strangers who see a woman sitting with a blanket over her shoulder know what she's doing and just ignore her. That's most people, I guess. While I was sitting there two men walked up and stood two feet in front of me to look at a painting hanging on the wall behind me. I thought they would quickly realize what I was doing and come back to the painting later. They didn't. I guess they were really engrossed. They stood there talking about the painting for a little while before I apologized for being in there way, thinking they would then see that I was nursing and move. They barely noticed that I said anything and continued talking. I just looked down in a sort of sheepish way. Then, one of the men walked right up to me and hovered over my shoulder to examine the painting further. He couldn't have been closer to me if he had been sitting on my lap! And he just stood there, right in front of me, leaning over my shoulder. I finally told him that I would get out of his way and got up and moved. They must have stood there a half an hour more looking at that painting. If only it had been one of David's paintings they were enraptured in I could have forgiven all.

Funny Little Things That Happened Today

When Daisy gets up in in the morning she's a little grumpy--for that matter, so am I. If I don't get into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face before I get Daisy and Calvin up, the whole morning is a blur.

Anyway, back to Daisy... When I put her on the changing table first thing in the morning, she really doesn't like it. She'd rather me just hold her and take her into the kitchen and get her some oatmeal. However, she really (and I mean really) needs changing. So I try to speak sweetly and gently to her.

This morning I laid her down to change her diaper and said "Hi sweetheart! Did you have a good sleep?"

At hearing this her frown disappears and she says "Yeah!" the way only she can say it.

Me: "Let's have a good day today," trying to be really enthusiastic about it.

Daisy: "YE-ah!!" nodding her head vigorously.

Then she stuck her little foot into my ribs and kicked me--rather hard.

I was stunned.



This evening Perry came into the kitchen where I was washing the dishes.

Perry: "I'm going to sing '2 Little Monkeys Jumping On the Bed.'"

Me: "Ok, great idea!"

Perry: ........"I'm going to sing '2 Little Monkeys Jumping On the Bed.'"

Me: "Ok, honey, go for it."

Perry: ............................

Me: "Are you going to sing it?"

Perry: "It's loading."

I looked at him in amazement. He repeated that "it was loading" and then proceeded to sing the song--but slowly--as though his little internal computer was having a hard time with such a bulky file.

P-E-R-R-Y

Yesterday, my three year and two month old son wrote his first name! I'm amazed and proud. It feels like the world is right at his fingertips.

Actually, it feels like that for all of them. They are each right on the cusp of a new milestone. I love waiting in anticipation for their next accomplishment.

Family Tree

The other day I took Perry and Daisy with me to Publix. At the check-out counter the man bagging our groceries asked Perry his name. Perry responded with: "Perry, and this is my wife Daisy."

Luckily the man didn't understand what he said.

Perhaps we've been in Tennessee too long?

What Perry Said To Me Yesterday:

"Mommy, here's the thing... You can't take us into the kitchen to cut our hair while you're cooking dinner, it doesn't make any sense."

I just laughed. Can you believe this kid?

Oh Mommy, Where is the Angel's Head?

I think I only had the nativity scene out for 30 minutes, 45 tops, when Perry alerted me to our celestial being's lack of a cranium. Oh yeah, an arm too.

That was a couple of days ago. I still haven't found it. I wonder if Daisy ate it? Oh well, I remember Jo-Ann's had individual nativity pieces for sale a couple of years ago--they probably do this year too. I guess we'll just have to have a mix and match set.

The kids don't seem to be distressed about it, though, so maybe I can just let it slide. I'll let you know how it goes.

Depressing Ramblings

I'm hungry. I have needed to go to the grocery store for two days now but haven't gotten out there. We've been living off of frozen burritos and cheese grits (our emergency foods). I must go shopping tomorrow, though--we're out of cheese. I think the hardest thing for me right now, with three little ones, is shopping. I can plan a menu and write down a list, but getting out to the store is the hardest part. My best choices are to either go while Perry and Daisy are napping or when they are all down for the night. The problem with both of these is that I'm tired too and would rather be in bed right along with them. So then I'm left with the other option of taking Perry or Daisy along with Calvin and I. But then I have to find creative places to put my purchases since my cart is already full of babies.

But it seems like I can only get one thing done a day. Yesterday I washed the dishes. The kids and I never got dressed, but the kitchen was clean. The day before that I did the laundry--and that's when all the dishes piled up. Today I went out and got the emissions tested on the car as well as our new Tennessee license plate. This evening we went out to see David's art hanging in a new gallery.

I rarely go out and when I come home I feel so confused. My day is such a tight chain of events that when I come home I'm thrown off course. I don't know how to pick up from where I've left off. And so the house is a reck today and I don't think I cooked anything--just kind of threw snacks together.

Tomorrow when I come home from the store, I probably won't get anything else done. Except maybe cooking since I'll finally have food in the house.

I guess I'll just go eat a frozen burrito now. Yuck!

Calvin and Mommy

Just when I thought I was finished wiping up faces for the day.

The kids are in bed for the night. David and I are in the brown room. I'm checking my e-mail and he's painting. He looks at me and says, "Oh man, I got paint in my nose."

I look at him. "Yeah, it's on your cheek too. Just hold still, I'll get a damp paper towel."

I get one and clean up his face. He starts to make faces, just like Perry and Daisy do, and I realize he could have gone to the bathroom and cleaned himself up. Why did I volunteer to help him? Probably for the same reason I used to open my mouth as I spooned food into Perry and Daisy's mouths (before they could feed themselves). And for the same reason I make kissing sounds in the air before I kiss David (as though I'm kissing the kids). I just get so caught up in Baby Land.

But there's nothing I can do about this, and it's not really that big a deal anyway. I'm a mom. Baby Land is where I belong and this is just one more realization of it.

I finished wiping the black paint from my husband's face and kissed his clean cheeks, just like I do when I wash the kids' faces after lunch.