You know it's bad when....

Sam has about 9 pairs of shoes. Not counting flip-flops. Most of them have been given to us either as hand-me-downs or from my mom who found a good deal.  8 of these pairs are in excellent condition.  1 pair looks like this:

Yes, tops are completely detached from the bottoms in the front. Of course this is the pair he wants to wear all the time. (I figured out last week how he managed to destroy them so quickly when I saw him stopping himself on his bike by dragging his toes along the ground).

This weekend we went camping, and our trip ended up landing on a very wet and cold weekend. It had been hot when we were packing so we had limited warm clothing. Elena accidentally packed capri jeans instead of full length so she had to wear a pair of my socks up to her knees all weekend to keep her calves warm. Did I mention they were bright blue socks with polka dots? Sam didn’t care so much and continued to run around in shorts.

So when it came time to go to Mass Saturday evening, our warm clothes were looking pretty grubby and most of our church clothes were not going to keep us warm enough.  So we sat in the back and tried to remain inconspicuous. I did manage to get Sam dressed in a nice outfit, but I failed to tell Sam to put on his nice shoes for church and did not notice that he wore his hobo shoes.

At the end of Mass, an older lady approached Seth and shook his hand. When he looked down, she had put some money in his palm and said, “I hope you won’t be offended if I give you money so you can buy your son some new shoes.” 

Seth started laughing and said, “No, I wouldn’t be offended, but we really don’t need it. We’re camping this weekend – that’s why we look like this.”  He talked her into taking the money back, but talking Sam into wearing another pair of shoes has been another story.

I told my mom the story the next time I saw her, and she started laughing. Apparently, that’s the exact same reason she has been giving us so many shoes for Sam. I’m starting to think it might be easier to make him a shirt that says, “Thank you, but I don’t need more shoes” than it would be to get him to stop wearing them.

What the heck?

It's 2014. We were married in 2004. Meaning today is our 10th anniversary.
That number looks even bigger now that I've typed it.

I remember Seth introducing me to his brother and sister-in-law, Jason and Tina, when we first started dating. He told me they had been married for 5 years, and I recall thinking something to the effect of, "5 years? Wow, they've been married a long time." (Keep in mind I was 18 at the time and still kind of an idiot.)

So how is it that we've been married 10 years - appearing I'm sure, like an ancient couple to all those youngins out there - and I still feel like we're newlyweds?

Thanks for the best 10 years of my life, Seth!

I would put up a picture of us at our wedding, but any pictures from before mid-2011 are all on my old computer and I'm too lazy......busy, I mean! We'll go with busy...to boot it up and transfer them. So here are some pictures of us at other people's weddings along with some various ones from over the years that I was able to pull off of Facebook.

At my cousin's wedding

At a friend's wedding party (we missed the actual wedding, which was in Ireland. I thought I would clarify that in case any of you were tempted to lecture Seth on appropriate wedding attire the next time you see him)

After  1 year of marriage

After 3 years of marriage

After 6 years of marriage

At Seth's cousin's wedding

At a friend's wedding

Happy Halloween of 2010!

I was going through my drafts and realized I never put up this post. I think I was having trouble uploading the video on the bottom and never got around to finishing it.
 Apparently, I thought I was falling behind when I wrote this because it was already a month past Halloween. Little did I realize how late this post would actually be. So here our Halloween. 3 1/2 years late.

Now that Thanksgiving is almost here, I'm finally getting some Halloween pictures up. The kids had a great time trick-or-treating with our neighbor, Julia. Sam absolutely hated his dinosaur costume. Fortunatley, I suspected that might happen since he didn't care for his Kiddie Parade costumet this summer, and I picked up a spare costume on hand (one that didn't go over his head).

Elena insisted on being a cow because she knows her cousin, Riley, was a cow when he was 1. Riley's little brother, RJ, wore Riley's old costume so we had 2 cows in the family this Halloween!

Not only did Sam let us put on his tiger costume, he LOVED having the whiskers and nose drawn on. He spent a lot of time admiring himself in the mirror that evening. We learned quickly to keep black markers away from him for the few weeks after Halloween because every time he got one he would draw all over his face.

This kid makes us smile all day long

We decided to raise laying hens again this year so I picked up 4 little chicks 2 weeks ago. Sam and Elena split them up between themselves, each naming two. And so our hens were to be named Rafael, Donatello, Fuzzball and Chip.


Last week we added two new chicks to the group. Sam named the new chick Jon Cena (apparently he was introduced to the world of WWF at the neighbors house. Yay.) At some point I mentioned to Sam that all the chicks were female, so he decided to nix the masculine names and choose more feminine ones.


Goodbye Rafael, Donatello and Jon Cena. Hello Rainbow, Hearts and Molly.

Dinner conversations

You know those kids who are horrified to find out at the dinner table that, once upon a time, their food had been a living chicken or cow. I hear some of these children even become vegetarians on the spot, though I haven’t met one.

Well, our kids are the exact opposite.  Tonight at supper we had beef ribs. Elena asked what they were so I was explaining to her where they come from. I started by pointing out our own ribs, and she interrupts with, “Are we eating a person?” To which we immediately replied, “No! It’s beef. We don’t eat people.”

But wait, it gets worse: One of the kids (I can’t remember which one) came back with, “Why not?”

I guess in raising children, I just didn’t expect to ever need to have the “why cannibalism is wrong” conversation. The things they fail to include in those parenting books…

This kept him occupied for a full 20 minutes.

Unfortunately, it was a one time event. It's rare for him to keep this busy with something that doesn't make a huge mess. This is usually more his cup of tea:

We lost our baby. Those are words I never expected to say. Miscarriages have been relatively rare in both of our families, which tends to give the impression that it won't happen to us.




I went in last Friday for a check-up around 11 weeks. Seth had offered to come, but I told him he didn't need to. As I was walking into the clinic, I had the fleeting thought that I should have brought him in case something had gone wrong.




When the doctor started to look for the heartbeat, I knew it was taking much too long. She couldn't find it and sent me in for an ultrasound, saying not to worry yet because at this stage it was not unusual to not hear the heartbeat. But I knew that it was unusual for me.




Before going to the ultrasound, I prepared myself mentally for what was to come: praying for strength and putting my trust in God, ready to accept whatever outcome lay ahead. As soon as the ultrasound started, I could see the baby. And I could see that there was no movement and no heartbeat as there had been at my 8 week ultrasound.




After she worked silently for a few minutes, I finally said, "It's not moving, is it?" And she mercifully shook her head "no" rather than giving me some crap line about not being able to say anything because she's not  the doctor. The baby probably died a few days after my first ultrasound. So the poor lady got to finish the ultrasound with me sobbing on the table. But I was at peace, too.




I don't spend time wondering what would have been. All we have is what is. And I will treasure the special place this baby has in our hearts and the special role she has as our baby in Heaven (we both have a very strong feeling that we were having a girl). I trust that we will be with our baby someday and that's enough. For now we have our own little saint watching over us. I will cherish the memories of the two happy months we had while the baby was with us.


For now, although we feel the loss, we have a greater sense of gratitude. There has been so much to be thankful for during this experience:
We have 3 healthy children. The miscarriage happened in the first trimester. We hadn't been trying for months and months to get pregnant. There is no reason so far to believe that we can't have more. Elena and Sam accepted the news very well (my biggest fear when I found out was that they would be devastated). We have had so much support from family and friends.


It also helps tremendously having a 1-year-old in the house whose main objective throughout most of the day is making the people around him laugh.


"For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139

Want to know what it's like to get a diaper on a 1-year-old?

Well, if this is one of those things you have often wondered but weren't able to find an answer to on Google, look no further! You, too, can experience this challenging yet important task.


Here's what you do:


1) Find and catch a wild animal of some sort (still alive and awake, of course - no tranquilizers allowed for this activity). If you have a cat handy, you can use that, but not if it's one of those fat and lazy cats who just lies there and moves only when absolutely necessary for survival. That would be cheating. If it's rabid, all the better.


2) Put a diaper on it.


And that's it! That will pretty much give you the exact experience we go through every time Charlie needs a diaper change (albeit hairier and with more claws).


(As an alternative to this exercise, you could just come over to our house change Charlie's diaper)

April Fool's Birthday

Elena turned seven yesterday. Seven! The age of reason. Long past being a little kid. It seems very strange to me to be the mother of a seven year old already - with a 4th on the way. Everyone told me when she was born that time would fly and she would be grown up before I knew it, and they weren't kidding. She's over a third of the way to graduation! (Seth hates it when I say that. I hate it when I say that, too.)


Anyway, she loved turning 7 and had a wonderful birthday. For her party we had over lots of girls and did lots of girly things. They made paper flowers. They had a tea party. Thankfully we had hot chocolate as an alternative. No one but Elena actually liked the tea (to quote my niece Faith, about 1/4 of the way through her tea: "You know how sometimes you're drinking something, but you don't really like it all that much...." and me:"Is that what's happening to you with that tea?"  "Yeah."). I even made the sweet, milky chai tea, but it was a no go.


Here are a few pictures of the party and a video of her opening a gift on her birthday.