Hanging Book Display

I made the hanging book display for Sadie and Ella's room. They turned out great and I would definitely recommend the idea.

Hopefully this will save me from crawling under the bed in search of library books that have slipped off the bed.

*Update: I bought the hardware (curtain rod brackets, dowels) at Lowe's and the fabric from IKEA. The fabric is almost canvas weight, but it is self-lined so any cotton would work. 

The book and it's cover

There was a time in my life when I thought that things would be a certain way. Sometimes I see the mom with the picture perfect child, the car that is oh-so-clean, the house that sparkles, and I sigh.  There was a time when I aspired for different things, DVDs in their cases, clothes freshly pressed, clean faces, brushed hair, scuff-free shoes. That has changed. We aren't Oscar the Grouch, we don't live in a trash can, but we lack the shine of simpler days. Our DVDs are good if they are on the shelf without scratches. I am happy if clothes are on their bodies.  Hair never appears to be brushed even when it was, so sometimes that goes by the wayside. And shoes do not survive when a four-year-old crawls. 

Nearly everything we own has teeth marks.  Tiny little teeth, happy little teeth, teeth that are no longer afraid of everything.  Teeth that sent a little one into respiratory distress. Teeth that are just now starting to enjoy food.
Maisy's clothes also show the signs of change. (At least she keeps them on.)  Drool and biting are daily reminders that things aren't normal. But what is normal, is there such a thing? It somehow seems wrong to care much about a car or a movie, a couch or clothes, when you have fought so hard for the person who is ruining them.  So, I guess things aren't like I imagined, but what a story they tell. Would they really hold much if it wasn't for the little people I share them with.
And quite frankly, I'm happy to have all of it. It could be worse. So, welcome to my world, don't pass judgement too quickly.

Drive-by shooting

Cary Pider

We have this plastic spider, it is larger than most and has long, skinny legs. Jack is terrified of the thing. He does not like anything spiky, but especially not plastic spiders. They are the worst combination of spiky plastic, horrifying, and spiders, more horrifying! So, everyone thinks it is the funniest thing to hide the spider where he will find it unexpectedly.

Today, I was taking his picture when he caught sight of the spider. First he looked at it, then he ran from it and then he screamed, "Pider mommy, smash it." (I love those little legs.)

He bravely backs away. (see it in the bottom right.)

Then he screams and cries. So away the spider goes and I hide it where no teasing girls (or dad) will find it, until they do and put it where Jack will discover it later. (At the edge of the rug.) Poor guy.

Good Mommy/ Bad Mommy

Last night I woke up feeling awful. I went to bed feeling awful, but I woke up at 2 AM, feeling worse. I think I have what Maisy had. Luckily, her sickness was short lived.
So, Evan had his first triathlon today (kind of a kick-off) and between feeling crummy and the rain, I missed the whole thing. I feel terrible about it. I know he did great and next time I will be more supportive.

Instead, I spent the morning in bed, feeling yucky. Then cleaned up the mess of fend-for-yourselves, made lunch and returned to bed with two little ones down for naps and two big girls next to me watching a Scooby Doo marathon. Evan is now on call and the good mommy I am (making up for the bad mommy of the morning), I sprung for pizza and DVDs and we broke out the candy stash for the evening.

What a difference a little sleep can make. You know you are tired when you think things like, "If I pass out in public and they take me to the hospital then I can finally sleep." When Maisy is sick it is like my whole world stops. She walks a fine line with hydration and dehydration means electrolyte imbalance and fevers, which can lead to seizures. So we want to avoid that, which means if she can only tolerate 1 ounce of pedialyte every 30 minutes, I will give her 1 ounce every 30 minutes. All night long. But now she is feeling better and eating pizza crust on my lap. So its all good. Oh, wait they're fighting over candy, back to bad mommy.

Another Bag

Our little neighbor had a birthday. Sadie and Ella went over for treats and a movie.
And I sewed up until the last minute; a coloring book bag and colored pencil roll.

I'm so in love with the apples and the red.

My little flowers

Maisy is sick today. It started at 1 AM with vomiting and it hasn't let up since. I stepped back from the vomit and the cleaning and the washing sheets for a few minutes as I washed my hands at the kitchen sink, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I opened my eyes and looked out the window and the tulips were blooming. I have been waiting for my tulips to bloom; the ones my parents brought me from Seattle. I walked outside to see them closer and the first thing I noticed were the weeds. I want to see the tulips, I want to enjoy the good, but lately the first thing I see are the weeds. Do I need to step back farther so I can once again just see the tulips?

Well, I do say.

When you walk into a store
and they have a linen suit for a two-year-old on sale,

seriously, I need to know how you pass that up.

I'm Melting

Sadie spent most of the day, Sunday, a puddle of tears. And I spent the day alternating between the "worst mom ever" and the person she desperately needed to hold on to, as if I was a life preserver rather than a mom.

We walked to church (mostly because I needed the time outside of the house to reclaim my calm) and it was something like, push Maisy, lock the brake, walk back pick up wiggly Jack, carry him to meet Maisy's wheelchair, convince Sadie to stand up from her pity party and walk with us, move another half block and repeat the whole scenario, all the while attempting to sing something resembling a hymn, so that Sadie will find some reason to feel a little better. Ella just walked along side shaking her head.

At one point I saw a neighbor drive by and give a thumbs-up. I'm sure he was off to help his wife at home. Meanwhile, Evan was off helping add an addition to someone else's family. And I'm repeating in my head, "I want to be a mom" over and over, as if repeating it will somehow change the moment I have found myself in.

I actually felt more calm about the whole thing than I should have, it was almost like I was looking down at the scene thinking, "Oh, that poor lady." Sometimes when I think of how we must seem to others, the makeup-less mom, the wheelchair, the four kids within not-quite-six years, I get this defiant strength. Like the time we were at a hotel and I looked around to find one fewer child than I actually have. As a woman saw me counting she looked at me disgustedly and said, "I counted three!" I looked at her and said, "Well I have four." and ran out of the lobby to the parking lot. We found a sleepy Jack, safe, he had stayed by the car because no one took his hand and he knows he can't walk into a parking lot without holding hands.

Sometimes, when I am in a situation where not only am I out numbered, but I am out maneuvered, I am surprised that I have legs at all. I really feel like I just should disappear into the ground altogether. Like my whole being has turned to mush right where I stand. But then I look down and I haven't, so I move on. Then I look back and laugh, because what else can I do?

Until the next day, when everyone is back at school and its my turn for the puddle of tears.

Stealing Cookies

Little Miss climbed on the stool, stood on her tiptoes, and grabbed two cookies off the cooling rack, before I could get back with the camera. She is getting so fast. I let her enjoy the rewards of her efforts although she left a huge mess to clean up and now has developed a love of licking oatmeal sugar cookies until all that's left is a gooey mess.

Life is better with a doll!

I have been trying to tie up lose ends and finish long overdue projects. The catch up process is taking me longer than I expected, especially with all the other day-to-day needs of four busy kids.

Today I was able to present two little girls with the belated dolls for birthdays back in February and March. These two peas in a pod needed dolls as similar as they are, so I needed it to be just like Ella's.
I know this new doll will be loved, because her mom was overheard saying, "Life is better with a doll." Now I know she has quite a few other dolls at home.

This sweet, little, curly-haired doll was given the name Somer, after an aunt who loves her niece. To look like her little owner, I felt curls and barrettes were more fitting.

So now I am on to pillows,

Legwarmers,

Alphabet cards,

And some needing to be finished banners.

It's a fun but never-ending process. Next I really want to make one of these.

Comfort

When Maisy was in the hospital back in February, I spent nearly two full days right at her side. She had a big bed, they had two and three patients in a room, and they let me stay right in the big bed with her, only leaving during rounds. When we came home, having grown accustomed to sleeping next to mommy, she would wake up at one or two in the morning and come crawl in bed with me. I love sleeping next to my kids, but Maisy is a little furnace, so after a week of this, I was pretty tired and needed a little break from my snuggle buddy. It took me another week to break her of our little nightly habit.
Well, now it is someone else's turn to need mommy. And like clockwork, at between 11:00 and 12:00, in comes Jack. "I seep wif you." Sometimes I am still up and sometimes I am not. When I am asleep I just let him climb in bed by me. But when I am still awake we have little conversations about the situation, last night it went like this:

Me: "Jack, what's going on? How come you are awake?"
Jack: "I scare, Mommy."
Me: "Why are you scared, honey? There isn't anything to be afraid of, you are safe here."
Jack: "I wanna seep wif you."
Me: "I don't know, buddy. Where will Daddy sleep? You had better talk to him about that."

Jack: "Daddy, I go seep?"
Evan: "Okay, let's go get in bed." Walking towards Jack's room.
Jack: "No, not der. In der." Pointing towards our room. "I seep in Mommy's bed."
Evan: "No, buddy. You need to sleep in your bed."
Jack, crying now: "No! I seep wif you."

We gave in. That is a fight for another night.

On Saturday, while he and I were running errands, I asked Jack why he needed to sleep by mommy at night. (And he truly has to be touching me while he sleeps, a little hand or foot reaching out to find mommy.) He said he was scared of the monsters. I told him there were no monsters in our house, we don't allow monsters in our house; Daddy and Mommy are always right down the hall if he needs us, all the platitudes you give a frightened two-year-old. But I really feel bad for him, he is scared. I don't know why or what brought it on, I just want to make him feel safe, even when I'm tired and its the middle of the night.

Happy kids,
Happy weather,

Happy day,

Happy Easter.

Yes, I'm Talking To You

There was a song I listened to over and over in high school. I loved the message in the words, it was short and sweet. I think it is something that you (you know who you are) need to hear, and I want you to know that I mean it. (Evan doesn't get this song.)

If I had a spell of magic,

I would make this enchantment for you.

A burgundy, heart-shaped medallion

With a window that you could look through.

So that when all the mirrors are angry

With your faults and all you must do

You could peek through that heart-shaped medallion

And see you from my point of view.

I think if you could see you, how I see you, you would like what you see.

Peeling Better

I peel better, kank koo.

A mild concussion can't slow this guy down.

Now I know

*If you don't want to know this about me, please don't read it. I hope if you do read it, you won't think less of me. But this is my little world, however up and down and while I can usually get the best of it, sometimes I can't.

I don't mean for it to happen, yet it does. Sometimes it is like a cockroach, I catch a glimpse of it and its gone but I know I can't see what is lurking in the darkness. Sometimes it is ants, marching across my mind, a thin black line that I can't seem to get rid of, but I can follow back to the origin of the source.

Today I spent the better part of the day in an ER with Jack. A bad fall, some vomiting, sleepiness and we sat in the ER at the children's hospital for the next four hours. He is fine, although I will be getting up every 2-4 hours tonight. But fine won't account for the memories.

Sometimes sadness is so much a part of my mind that I don't know where it stops. Some days I am so sad I can't remember being happy. But only some days. I don't always know what triggers it, but sometimes I lay in bed and listen to my kids breathing and I am so grateful that they are mine. All four of them, under the same roof. And then I think about those who aren't together, or grateful. And there is the sadness. Maybe its true, maybe sadness is like water, and covers 70% of the earth. Maybe sometimes we live near the ocean and sometimes we just pass glimpses of a stream.

Some days, I think about the kids, the ones that don't know love, the ones who only see their parents on the last few days of their lives. Or the ones who felt so much pain in their short existence that it is a wonder they even tried at all. The ones who were blamed for things beyond their control. The ones who cried at the slightest touch, because it was never good. Or the ones that live with the knowledge that if someone dies they will live.

Or I think about the parents. And then I hear the words. I can close my eyes and hear at least five different voices say, "No, no, no, NO." Or the other words, "I just sent out her birthday party invitations." "I wasn't always a good mom." "I'm so, so sorry." With the adults it is the words I hear, the apologies, explanations, denials.

Then I feel sad. I just didn't know, I didn't know that there was so much sadness. I didn't know that some kids don't feel love until they are in heaven. I didn't know that some parents have to live with their heart having been ripped from their chests. I didn't know, but now I do.

Midnight cheesecake and cheez-its

My cousin got married last night on home base at the local ballpark. I don't often get to see him, but I am always happy when I do. And I am so glad to see him and his new wife so happy. We also were able to see family from near and far that we seldom have around. It was so nice to see little ones grown and grown ones as well.

I had talked to the happy groom on the phone back in February and just as we said goodbye and were about to hang up he said, "Love you" and I said,"love you too." And I mean it. I love my family.

After I hung up the phone, I thought about how nice it is to hear, and about how great it is to know. Loving my cousins is staying at my Aunt and Uncle's house, hanging out on the bean bags in the family room, boxes of Cheez-its, laughing at the stories, and the laughing louder when we were told to go to sleep. Getting up in the middle of the night and sneaking leftovers from Thanksgiving. Chicken fights. Tree houses. Riding bikes. Ice cream. Cheesecake. Disneyland.

I am so often struck by the fact that aren't a million different words to describe love. How can one word contain so much? How can one little word possibly explain so many feelings and times? I really don't understand. Love you too, Marcus.

A couple of girls after my heart

I noticed I don't post about Sadie and Ella as much as Maisy and Jack, but they are so much a part of our lives. Tonight, while I was cleaning the kitchen, Sadie and Ella were sitting at the counter visiting with me and Sadie raised her hand and called me by her teacher's name. I guess they do spend an awful lot of time at school and I miss them so. They are wonderful to have around.
Sadie is my talker. She is like me in that you could probably read the book or watch the movie in less time than it would take us to tell you about it. We get quite wordy.

Ella is just one of those girls. She can just kind of be in a place without having to take it over. She is wonderful to be around and the first to pay a compliment, always sincerely. She notices things others might overlook. It must have to do with her quietness.

I love these girls, they are my first adventure into the realm of motherhood. They have allowed me to make mistakes with forgiveness and even when I still mess up, they love me anyway and want to be with me. I fondly think of the days, three of us exploring South Carolina, one in the sling, one in the stroller, the adventures we had I will never forget. I wish they could remember those days and how much they helped me to discover who I wanted to be. Now I hope I can help them the same way.

This has been the winter of being sick. This morning Jack told me, "I beel better, Moooom." Hopefully Ella and Maisy will follow suit.

Ah, love. How soon it changes.

So often I say something that needs clarifying and yet I neglect to clarify the comment. Today, I did it again. I was talking to a group of friends and I mentioned that the redeeming element of a movie was that the main character, instead of falling in love with a boy, learned that love was how she felt for her friends. That was what I said, what I meant to say was that she learned that while she was looking to fall in love with a boy, she found friendship and the love of good friends.

I don't mean to say that I think falling in love is unimportant or to downplay meeting someone to spend the rest of your life with, I just don't think my little girls need to always watch movies that dwell on idea that they will meet their soul mate at fifteen. I want my girls to grow up with the knowledge that love is broader than romance. I'm hoping that they learn that love comes in many forms. And I want them to understand that love is not so much a feeling as an action.

All of that is so much more than any tween movie could or ever will teach them. So while I don't expect life's lessons to be learned from the screen, I am glad that there is the occasional movie that still shows kids being kids. And I'm very glad that Sadie still closes her eyes during the kissing parts. Because more than anything, I want my little girls to be little for as long as they should. Hopefully the only high-heels will be mine, the only kisses from little boys will be from Jack, and the love will come in the friend and family form. They'll be kids for eighteen years or less, and grown-up responsibility comes soon enough.

Wocket Chips

Jack is now officially obsessed with Rockets. Everything we see is a "wocket chip"; the steeple on a church, the pipe waiting to be put into the ground by the new highway, the PVC pipe that belongs to my laundry sorter (little stinker.) And he has become quite good at building rockets.
I'm so glad my dad made us these beautiful blocks. But it seems my dad knows a thing or two about little boy fascination, just ask his sisters.

Between taking apart his grandma's sewing machine and the autopsy on his little sister's doll to see how they worked, he made plenty of girls mad.

So far, this little man mostly makes me smile, and just occasionally get mad.

On a side note, his new favorite thing to say is, "Don pank me," as loud as he can anywhere and everywhere. The worst part is I have only swatted his diaper a couple of times when he climbed up on Evan's ladder. Like I said, stinker.