The joy of doing nothing

It's Memorial Day, and many of you are having barbeques, or parties with friends.  We are enjoying a rare unscheduled day.  No one in our house had an appointments at all today.  Well, Jake had a call back, but he's 15 and could get there on his own and didn't need me to get him there.
There weren't any baseball games, or birthday parties, or classes or work commitments.  I slept in, all the way till 7 (seeing as I am usually already at work at 7, this is what constitutes sleeping late for me).  Aidan, Harry and I walked to Starbucks for an iced latte and some carbonated juice drink things.  Mike got the house to himself for about 12 seconds before Abby came home from her friends house. 
We lounged, played Wii, read and ate.  Abby took Harry to the beach for a little while and Aidan got to be an only child for a little while.  All in all, we were a family of slugs. 
I realize this to some seems like a waste of a day, since it's been raining so much here the past few weeks we practically need an ark, but we almost never do this.  We run like maniacs 8 days a week around here. 
The day is coming to a close, and for once, we are all fairly well rested.  It's a nice change of pace...

Baby boom

I am surrounded by babies!  And it is a wonderful joyful thing.  A dear friend gave birth to twins, my brother and sister in law welcomed a baby girl through adoption, a cousin is expecting twins.  All these babies are leaving me a bit misty eyed. 
For all I complain about my four kids, given my druthers, I would have four more.  In a heartbeat.  And five or ten years ago, that was (almost) an option.  But I'm not 25 anymore.  Never mind how old I actually am, just older than 25, OK?  My youngest is about to start kindergarten this fall, and for the first time in 15 years, we will not be on the hunt for a babysitter.  My husband has one last year of school until he gets his degree.  Our finances, while slightly improving, are not where I would be able to stay home with a baby.
But two weeks ago, I got to hold my niece for the first time.  She was 4 weeks old and perfect.  As my Poppy would declare, a perfect little pot roast.  When her Gramma handed her to me, I immediately fell into the baby sway.  You know, how moms immediately start to rock back and forth when handed a baby.  I kissed her perfect, little, sweet smelling head more times than I can count.  I cooed at her, and promised we would go to the American Girl store when she is big enough.  I stood and rocked until she fell asleep, and then sat and rocked until I was finally persuaded to put her perfect little self into her bassinet.
See, I made the mistake of hurrying my first two babies along.  I couldn't wait for Jake and Abby to meet those milestones.  While Aidan was content to be a baby for a very long time, Harry had no interest in being little.  Harry is a 5 year old with a 15 teen year old attitude.  But I miss the babyhood. 
I miss diaper changes, and being up during the night with a newborn.  I know, some of you who are in the weeds there must think I am nuts, but I do.  I miss their warm little bodies, melting into my chest when I picked them up.  I miss being able to make their world perfect with just a clean diaper, warm bottle and cozy jammies.  No one has needed me to sway them to sleep for almost 5 years now. 
In all likelihood, the baby chapter of my life is coming to a close, whether I like it or not.  And just when I really feel like I have finally hit my stride as a mom.  For now, no decisions are being made.  The de facto decision is there are no babes other than the borrowed ones for the foreseeable future.  My husband isn't crazy about the notion of starting over, and the finances just aren't there.  But if you happen to need a professional baby rocker, give me a call.  Ok?

Well...

It's no secret that despite the fact that only 4 children live in this house, there is almost always an extra one or three around this joint.  It's not a secret, because I complain about it regularly.  On one hand, I am glad that my kids are excited to have their pals over and that we are able to do it.  On the other hand, feeding extra teenagers is not cheap.
Apparently, feeding the children is unusual around here.  At our house, if it's time to eat, and your kids are here, they are going to eat.  I even keep a couple of "safe" options on hand for my daughter's friend who keeps kosher, in case she is over and we are having ham and bacon sandwiches (OK we've never had that, but it does sound good, doesn't it?).
Why then do MY kids come home from their friends houses famished?  (for the record, Abby has never come home hungry from her kosher friend's house.)  Every time I have to pull something together because my kid was at someone's house at dinner, but didn't eat, I SWEAR I am going to stop feeding the neighborhood.  But I don't.  Cause I am a weenie. 

Slave driver

Can someone please explain how I managed to raise 4 children who think they are exempt from doing chores?  Mind you, these are not unreasonable chores.  No one has been asked to scrub grout with their toothbrush, or build me a rec room.  I am talking loading the dishwasher, cleaning their own rooms, feeding their guinea pig and taking out the trash.  Without me screaming at them to do it.
Oh, my kids have the allowance thing DOWN.  And I know the "experts" say not to tie chores to allowance.  But at 15 and 13, finance is about the last thing I have over my kids.  If they expect to get money without having to ask for it, I expect to be able to put the trash in the can without it spilling over all over the place.
Apparently, that is a lot to ask for in this house...

It's not me, it's you

Dear Refined Sugar,
It really hurts me to do this, but I think we need to spend some time apart.  It's just that I have grown in ways I haven't expected...  Sideways.
When I really think about it, you are pretty awful.  You seem all sweet and nice, but you just want to hang around in places I would rather you stay away from. 
I know, we've had some good times over the years, but really, it's time.  Perhaps you and your pal High Fructose Corn Syrup can go and hang out with some teenagers with better metabolism.  You're right, I will probably be back.  Several times over.  But it's going to be just a short term thing, until I get my head back on straight.
Love,
Me

Love Note To My Family

When people ask me how many kids are in my family, I tell them I have two brothers, but am really the oldest of eight.  You see, my grandparents raised their daughters to be very close, and in turn, their children were also raised to be close.  There are a total of eight grandchildren, and in many ways we are more like siblings raised in different houses than cousins.  We are five girls and three boys, and each of us was the baby at some point.  We range in age from 36 to 18, and speak to each other, either in person, on the phone or via facebook often.  They are some of my favorite people in the world.
When we were younger, our moms took us to whatever photo studio a) they had a coupon for and b) would be willing to take on a group photo of this crazy bunch and gave it to our grandparents as a Christmas gift.  We stopped when I was around 20, and Bridget (the baby) was around 2.  The next year, I was about to be a mom myself, and our mothers were probably tired of hearing me whine about having to find something green to wear to match whichever of the little girls fit into the green velvet dress that had been worn by all of us.  I had this thought that since I was the oldest, maybe the littler ones should dress to match me...
This Thanksgiving, we crowded into my brother's garage and re-created that picture, including making Bridget sit on my lap.  My brother and his wife printed the picture and framed and wrapped it for our moms for Christmas.  Needless to say, it was a huge hit.  The day after Christmas, my Aunt Nancy called to let me know how special it was to her and how she loves that we all really DO both love and like each other.
The thing is, I don't think any of us realize how incredibly special the bond we have is.  Because to us, that is just normal.  We forget that some people barely know their cousins, much less have actual relationships with them.  Taking that silly picture in the garage was actually FUN.  We told the younger kids what brats we were, and how difficult we would be.  We remembered the year my aunt assumed the picture would be from the waist up and dressed Colleen and Megan in beautiful sweaters and mismatched stretch pants, only for all the pictures to be full length.  Or the time Erin had a tantrum and was crying so hard we really thought she puked down my back.  And the year Aunt Nancy fought the face off the studio to make them accept her coupon (she was right, by the way).  To make it worse, that year, they cut the very tops of both of my brother's heads off in the pictures.
So thank you to my crazy family for giving us the kind of bond you can totally take for granted.  Thank you for raising us to just know that we are both loved and liked.  Thank you for our shared humor, our love of matching Irish sweaters and our shared history.  Because really, we don't take it for granted at all.

That Which Does Not Get Done

Over the years I have come to accept that my plans exceed my capabilities.  Every year, there is some wonderful holiday thing I want to do, but it just doesn't get done.  Until this year.  This year I refuse to beat myself up about what I just don't manage to find time for. And I refuse to even teasingly call myself lazy.  I have 4 kids and a full time job for Chrissakes.  I don't have time to be lazy.
This year, Christmas cards did not get done.  I know, many of you were pining for my traditional, non-red eye corrected photo card of all of my kids looking almost at the same place at the same time.  Who knows?  Maybe I will take a page from Julia Child and send the card I created but never had printed as a Valentine.  Or Arbor Day greeting. 
I didn't really bake any cookies either.  Sorry.  I was tired.  Did I mention that I have 4 kids and a full time job?
We DID get almost all of shopping done prior to Christmas Eve.  (So it was the 23rd, but it was still BEFORE Christmas eve).  We went to the beautiful Kris Kringle market, ate chocolate covered marshmallows, had a picture with Santa and saw the windows at Marshall Fields (take that Macy's.  Always Fields in my heart!).  We watched Christmas movies together.  We had friends over, and went to friend's homes.  I re-read The Bird's Christmas Carol, like my grandmother did every year.  We admired our lovely tree and wrapped gifts. 
It may not be a Martha Stewart Christmas, but it's mine and it is plenty.  May you all have a holiday season of plenty.