Book of the Week

We just spent a great week at my parents' house. While we were there, I had the pleasure of reading some of my childhood books to the kids. One of my favorites is Too Much Noise, by Ann McGovern. I love the repetition, as well as the lesson: being happy with what you have is all a matter of how you look at it. My kids love the humor and silliness of the story.

Mosquitoes Acquire Fire Rookie Pitcher

The rise of sports in our house this past year has been astonishing. Prior to last fall, neither Jack nor Elliot had any interest in sports. Then, we signed them up for Fall soccer. From there we went to Winter hockey. With that came an interest in, and later an obsession with the Bruins and the NHL. This Spring the boys tried baseball, and we now have two avid Red Sox (and Phillies) fans. Jack, ever the lover of independent and imaginary play, created his own fantasy team last winter: the Minnehaha Mosquitoes. The team was born during the height of hockey season, so began life as an NHL team. The players were friends and teammates of his. He filled pounds of paper with rosters, positions, statistics, game scoreboards, and more. He even designed a team logo. His team played imaginary games daily with other teams in its division. Some of the games took place entirely in Jack's head; other games were played out (with indoor hockey equipment) on our family room floor between Jack and Elliot. In those cases, Jack played for all the Mosquitoes, and Elliot played for his entire team, the Bruins. With the switch to baseball in the Spring, the Mosquitoes transitioned to Jack's fantasy baseball team. He again recruited his players from the ranks of his friends and acquaintances. This morning, we went to Barnes and Noble. Jack found an official baseball score book. I showed him how to keep score in the book, and he immediately set to work recording his first official 9 inning Mosquito game.

Until today, I would have said that I still knew more about baseball than Jack did. But, now that I've taught him how to officially keep score, it's no longer true. As I tucked him into bed a few nights ago, he mentioned that that day had been a big one for Minnehaha. The Mosquitoes had acquired a rookie pitcher from the San Jose Fire. He told me that the pitcher had not been doing well for the Fire, but had been pitching great ever since he joined the Mosquitoes. He also mentioned that ten days had passed, and the Mosquiotes did not have to give anyone back to the Fire. I kissed him good night, and congratulated him on the acquisition. But, I have no idea what he meant.

Happy Birthday Elliot!

Elliot turned 6 today. He is my monkey and my peanut, the smallest of the four boys. My mom calls him the Energizer Bunny; he's the last one to sleep at night, and the first one awake in the morning. He's easy going and even keeled, loves sports and all things that involve physical activity. Elliot's favorite color is yellow, and his favorite foods are sushi, cake, pears, hot dogs, and canteloupe. He loves to play games and is an unbelievable numbers whiz. He is also my most social and talkative child; he hates being alone.

For his birthday he wanted one thing - an archery set. This is something he has been asking for (and has not gotten!) for the last 2 years. We were at a toy store here in Berwyn a few days ago, and he stumbled upon a marshmallow bow set. He immediately ran over to show it to me and to ask if I would buy it for him. Before I even had a chance to answer, he said, "Wait. What age does this say it's for?" He looked at the box, which said "Ages 6+." I didn't even have to turn him down. Ever the optimist, he said, "Do you think we can come back here after Thursday?" The woman who worked at the toy store witnessed this whole exchange, and was in stitches.

We headed out this morning to buy the boys' fall shoes. Elliot and Jack couldn't be more different. Elliot only wants to wear sneakers, and can't stand the idea of wearing anything brown or leathery. Jack loves soft leather shoes, and has trouble bringing himself to wear sneakers. This makes shoe shopping a bit difficult when each chid is supposed to pick out one pair of sneakers, and one pair of school uniform shoes. Elliot's choice, on today of all days - some silver and yellow light up shoes, and a pair of bright yellow Chuck Taylor's. So much for the unform shoes! Tonight we're headed out for a Japanese steak house (performance) dinner, and sushi, of course.

For the Love of Nature

"In all things in nature, there is something of the marvelous." - Aristotle

We left home last Thursday headed for New York's Hudson Valley. As we pulled out of our parking space, Ted realized he had left his extra shoes inside the house. So, we pulled around front and parked the car momentarily on the street. Ted ran inside. He emerged minutes later, carrying not only the forgotten shoes, but a large, fuzzy orange caterpillar. He found the caterpillar crawling in the entryway to our house. (Mother Nature is no stranger to the city.) Back in the car, he handed the caterpillar to Elliot. Normally our most social and vocal child, Elliot spent the next few hours ensconced in his own world, holding and playing with the caterpillar. (He only dropped it a a few times, and only once lost it down the leg of his shorts.) Neither Ted nor I could get over the entertainment value of the caterpillar. We encountered terrible traffic on the Mass Pike, so decided to get off. Our detour took us, quite unexpectedly, to Purgatory Chasm, where we had a picnic lunch and played outside. While at the playground there, Elliot happened upon two more caterpillars, this time smaller green and black ones. He added them to the cup he was carrying his first one in. Moments later, the fuzzy orange caterpillar attacked one of the smaller ones, fatally wounding it. Elliot was angry at his former pet. He labelled the orange caterpillar "mean" and decided not keep him any longer. He held on to the surviving green and black caterpillar, who made it with us all the way to the Residence Inn Poughkeepsie.

About 2 years ago I read the Omnivore's Dilemna, immediately followed by Animal Vegetable, Miracle. These were truly books that changed my life. I couldn't stop talking about them. After hearing me, my sister-in-law lent me a book she had read called Last Child in the Woods. While I can't say that I loved it as much as the first two, it definitely had a profound impact on my parenting. I have always found peace and beauty in nature, especially alone. I certinaly hope that my four boys will grow up feeling a similar close bond with nature. But, the book made me realize that this bond will not cultivate itself. I need to create and provide opportunities for my children to fall in love with nature, if I want them to grow up loving nature as I do. This awakening has changed the way I think about our time outdoors.

On Friday, we woke up in Poughkeepsie and drove to the Vanderbilt Mansion. It is a beautiful and lavishly impressive home that is certainly worth a visit. Most people stop by for an hour or so, take the tour of the home, perhaps walk around the gardens, then get back in their cars to head to another destination. We spent the entire day there. Jack and Elliot played wiffle ball with Ted in the grass. Mattie rode his bike along the sidewalks. Theo lounged in the grass, holding toys and looking up at the trees. We followed the path of the river that winds through the estate. (Only one park ranger stopped to make sure our children, who were playing along the river bank on a steep embankment, were being "adequately supervised.") We took a hike on the Hyde Park Trail. The boys played inside the thick branches of a pine tree, discovering a dark, cool, hideaway inside. We found the old carriage house, saw the Hudson River, and looked for bugs. To some people, it might seem like we wasted a lot of our time in Hyde Park, spending an entire day at the Vanderbilt Mansion. After all, there are many other homes and things to see in the area. But, I've started to see our time spent in nature as a destination in and of itself. Even when they're "doing nothing," the kids are getting something. Ted and I were able to relax and enjoy the outdoors ourselves, something we are rarely able to do. The estate provided the perfect outdoor playground for the kids. There were few people, even fewer cars, and lots of land. Their imaginations reigned as they discovered each area they explored. They could stray farther away from us than they ever can in the city. Hopefully, they had some of those special, private moments in nature that forge the life long bond we hope they'll have. For us, it was the perfect vacation spot, and another perfect day outdoors.

Book of the Week

And my book pick of the week is... "Trashy Town", by Andrea Zimmerman and David Clemesha. The book follows Mr Gilly, a trashman, as he collects the trash from all over the town. After each page, the book asks the same question, "Is the trash truck full yet? No!" Of course, Mr. Gilly continues until the truck is full, and the kids can finally yell out, "Yes!" in answer to the book's question. And, since no conscientious adults' job is done until they've cleaned up, the book ends with Mr. Gilly taking the trash to the dump, cleaning the trash truck, and taking a bath!

We were first introduced to Mr. Gilly and Trashy Town on the Scholastic video "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom." My kids loved the repetition, and seeing the trash all over Trashy Town. Trash collection in general seems to have an inexplicable appeal to young kids. Dan Yaccarino's bright and simple illustrations make the book an even stronger favorite.

Enjoy!

Goodbye Training Wheels!

Today was a very exciting day for both Jack and Elliot. They accomplished something we've been talking about for several months - they learned to ride their bikes without training wheels! I am very proud of them! They got their first real bikes last summer, as they turner 5 and 7. Not surprisingly, as city kids, they don't ride all that much. But, they can and do ride up and down the alley behind our house. Both Jack and Elliot became much more physically active over the last year. With their increased activity level, their interest in biking grew as well. One of my goals for this summer was to get both boys off their training wheels. Jack had very little interest in trying it. Elliot, always the adventurer, was much more excited about it. While the alley is a fine place to ride, it's gravel surface does not offer a very forgiving training ground. So, I decided to take their bikes on our vacation to suburbia (aka their grandparents' houses.) Today, our first day in Berwyn, Ted removed their training wheels, and their were off and riding! Jack pretty much got in instantly. Elliot was able to ride right away, but is still struggling a bit with stopping and starting without tipping over. "Me too" Mattie didn't want to be left out of all this two-wheeling fun either. So, a few weeks ago, I bought him a bike as well. He rides a Strider running bike. And he was thrilled to be riding without training wheels today along side Jack and Elliot. His running bike is really amazing. I can't believe how well he can keep up with his brothers, using only his feet! It's great to see them all riding together and having fun outside. They spent about 2 hours today riding up and down Daylesford Blvd. A reasonable number of cars drove by during this time. I noticed a smile spread across most of the drivers' faces as they passed by. You don't see too many kids oustide in my parents' neighborhood, and even fewer riding their bikes. The vicarious thrill of watching them learn to ride today was pure pleasure, for me and the passersby. Tomorrow we're headed to the local bike store for celebratory bells and kick stands! Wahoo!

Quote of the Day

Elliot provided us with lots of comic relief on our recent road trip. Here are two of my favorite quotes:

Elliot was crying at one point in the car, wallowing in misery. I said, "Don't worry. We're almost there." To which he replied, through tears, "I don't want to be almost there..." Sometimes he's just happier being unhappy, apparently...

Later, on one of our beautiful hikes, we came to a steep hill that lead down to a riverbank. Ted had Theo in the Ergo carrier, and I was helping Mattie. The kids screamed out in excitement to climb down the hill and wade in the water. I said to Ted, "I don't think that's a very good idea." Elliot replied, "I don't either, but it's just so cool!"

Quote of the Day

As we were driving in the car this morning, Elliot asked me, "Are we rich?" I took a moment, and tried to answer the question as thoughtfully, but simply as possible. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed that I had clearly misunderstood his point. "But, not like pirates, right?" he said. No, not like pirates...

A Penny For Your Thoughts

I have wondered, on more than one occasion, whether I might have a sign on my forehead that says something like, "Tell me what you're thinking, please. I really want to know." It started back in February of 2001, on a trip to Disneyworld with Ted. I was about 4.5 months pregnant (with Jack) at the time. I was in that awkward stage of pregnancy - too big to fit in regular clothes, but not big enough yet to need maternity clothes. While waiting in line for a ride, a man standing behind us with his children asked me when I was due. Ted was shocked. He didn't even think I looked pregnant yet. And he was sure that I didn't look obviously pregnant enough for a stranger to comment on it. But, it happened, just like that. And it hasn't stopped since.

Somehow, pregnancy seems to call attention to people. It makes them stand out in a crowd. I know I'm not alone feeling that way. So, I guess it's not surprising that this whole phenomenon started during my first pregnancy. Back then, the most frequent question or comment I heard was in regards to my due date, or how pregnant I was at the time. The second most common question was about the baby's sex. Once Jack was born, everyone wanted to know how old he was. Normal stuff, I know. But, by my third pregnancy, strangers' comments started to venture into the realm of curious, strange, and downright inappropriate.

Jack and Elliot were usually with me when I was out and about during that pregnancy. Even more than before, it seemed like everyone wanted to know whether I was expecting a boy or a girl that time around. I guess, for many people, when they see a pregnant woman with two sons, the first thing that comes to their mind is, "she must be trying for a girl." Would it be too strange - or at least too boring - if I just liked kids, enjoyed being a mother, and wanted to have another another baby? If I answered the boy/girl question, I set myself up to receive their judgment. Should I be happy to be having another boy? Would it be just as well, after all I already had all the boy stuff I'd need? Or, should I not feel badly, as it wasn't my fault. Given that, from about 18 weeks on I knew I was having a third boy, I didn't appreciate those comments very much.

I always related these stranger encounters to Ted. He found them much more humorous (and less invasive) than I ever did. I think he also suspected me of mild (in the spirit of good story telling) exaggeration. Then, one day, he had the luck to be with me for one of my strangest ones. We were out walking without the kids, and a truck drove by with the windows all rolled down and three young guys inside. I was about 7 months pregnant with Mattie at the time. They raced noisily by us, but not before they could yell "Let that baby out for God's sake," out the window. After that, Ted never questioned the veracity of my stories again.

Even now, not pregnant, I can't seem to avoid eliciting people's comments. My favorite, and most frequently asked question these days is, "are they all yours?" It's not like I have a dozen! Most of the time, these strangers are very well meaning. When I tell them that all four boys are in fact mine, they pay me a compliment. Today alone I was called both a hero and a saint (at Target, in the toy section, where all four boys were making a lot of noise, but behaving remarkably well.) Most people are polite enough to say nothing if their thoughts tend more towards criticism. I do get a fair amount of dirty looks though.

I find that I've mellowed out quite a bit over the years. People's comments don't get to me much anymore. I know how I feel about the demographics of my family, and I truly enjoy most of the time I spend with the boys. I enjoy their exuberance, their excitement, and the joy they find in most things. I feel younger and more exuberant myself when I'm with them. I know someday I'll wander the aisles of Target alone again; I'll go back to the old unobtrusive me. And I know that these years will "go by like that." I know because you've all told me so.

Book of the Week

This week I chose "The Prince's Bedtime" by Joanne Oppenheim for the book of the week. I absolutely adore this book. It's one of those books with such bright, cheerful illustrations that I was drawn to it from the moment I first glimpsed the cover. It's published by Barefoot Books, one of our favorite book publishers. "The Prince's Bedtime" tells the store of a little prince who cannot (or will not!) fall asleep. His weary parents try everything to get him to sleep, to no avail. Finally, an old woman comes to the castle with a pictureless book of stories. She sits down beside his bed and reads to him. At her suggestion, he closes his eyes to see the pictures, "and soon after that... fell asleep for the night." The book has beautiful, vibrant illustrations (by Miriam Latimer,) a cute rhyming scheme, and uses great vocabulary. It makes a wonderful bedtime story!

If you would like to see any of my previous book picks, simply click on the book of the week label at the bottom of this post.

Wingaersheek

We had an amazing day today at Wingaersheek Beach, in Gloucester, MA. We had the perfect weather - it was sunny and 90 degrees, and Wingaersheek is just a really great beach to visit, especially with kids. At low tide, the beach stretches out for hundreds of feet before you get to the water. You can wade through the calm, shallow water to a long sand bar. It is so big, that some families set up all of their stuff there. The beach is also covered with huge rock formations. When the tide goes out, the spaces between the rocks form tidal pools. We arrived there today about an hour or so before low tide. We had plenty of time to frolic in the shallow water, wade out to the sand bar and climb on all the rocks we could see. Then, we found a beautiful, and completely uninhabited nook between two large rock outcroppings, and set up camp. The kids quickly appropriated a nearby tide pool, and we spent the entire rest of the day playing nearby. Ted and I were able to steal some precious time relaxing in our beach chairs. Theo took a long nap super-swaddled in his bassinet. Elliot and I dug a trench from the tidal pool and created a new little pool. The boys climbed the rocks over and over again. Mattie pushed his trucks around the tidal pool. It was 4:00 before Ted or I started to think about going home, and 5:00 before we actually left the beach. We waited until our secluded spot was just about to be flooded with the incoming tide, then coaxed the boys out of the then bathwater temperature pool, and called it a day. An amazing day, for us all.

Check out our photos from the beach!

A Mother in Mourning

To my sweetest baby Theo:

For many mothers, the newborn stage is the hardest one. They look forward longingly, excitedly awaiting the time that their baby will sleep through the night, roll over, sit up, crawl, and walk. They go to bed at night dreaming of what new accomplishment the next day will hold. But not me. You will almost certainly be my last baby. And while I celebrate your arrival and birth into this world, I mourn the passing of each step, the marking of each stage completed. I hold on to each day, in the hope that somehow time will slow down, and you will stay a newborn just a little bit longer.

Yesterday you rolled over for the first time. I was sitting in the rocking chair reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to Jack and Elliot. Mattie was lying on the floor next to you. We all watched as you rolled on to your side many times, pausing in our reading to laugh and giggle as you got closer and closer to making it all the way over. And then you did it. All by yourself.

Last night I put you to bed without swaddling you, for the first time in your life. You took a few extra minutes to fall asleep, wiggling in an arc around your bed. But, then you slept soundly all night long. You showed me that you were ready to take that step, and move on.

It's hard in a house full of four busy boys to stop what I'm doing and just take in the moment. But, I try to as often as I can. I treasure every minute of your baby stages, knowing they will be my last. And so, as often as I can, I hold you just a little bit closer. I keep you in my arms just a little bit longer. I give you one more extra kiss on your soft face. I smell your sweet baby smell one more time. I let you nurse forever, and hold you asleep in my arms. I close my eyes and make a wish that this day will never end.

Book of the Week

Mama Says: A Book of Love for Mothers and Sons by Rob D. Walker.

We just got this book last weekend, as a baby gift from our friends Chip and Susan. Each page has a rhyming poem about what sons learn from mothers. Each rhyme is presented in English alongside another language, with an image of a mother and a son from that culture. The poem are very sweet, and celebrate that special bond between a mother and her sons. Jack, Elliot and Mattie all enjoyed it. I loved it! Thank you Chip and Susan!

Bite Marks

Elliot came running up to the kitchen this morning, crying a little bit. "Mattie bit me!" he exclaimed. Mattie was hot on his heels, yelling, "I didn't bite Elliot." Elliot proudly, and confidently, held out his arm. "Look," he said, pointing at his forearm for close inspection, "he bit me right here." Luckily for Mattie, I happen to have been a CSI addict years ago. A very cursory look revealed that Elliot had clearly bitten himself, and was trying to get Mattie in trouble. The bite marks could not have been located in a more obviously self-inflicted location, and they were covered with fresh dripping saliva (as was his chin.) So, not only did Elliot fail to get any sympathy, but he got a time out for lying as well. At last he had something real to cry about.

The Many Faces of Jackie Sam

Hide and Seek

The boys have been busy inside today building forts and playing hide and seek, and I couldn’t be happier. Jack and Elliot have played hide and seek sporadically in the past, but it has taken over this week as the favorite indoor pastime. Mattie’s new interest in the game seems to have fueled this new appeal. At 2 ¾, he has finally developed the patience to count to 30, the control to keep quiet in his hiding spot, and the attention span and energy to chase his brothers around the whole house when it’s his turn to seek.

As the boys were playing this afternoon, I laid down on one of their twin beds and closed my eyes for a few minutes. They played up and down the stairs and all round me, mostly oblivious to my presence. But, when Mattie couldn’t find a place to hide, and Jack’s count was nearing 25, I motioned for Mattie to run over to me. I scooped him up, and hid him under the covers right next to me. He laid there silently, with only a small tuft of blond ringlets sticking out. Our trick worked; they couldn’t find him! We finally threw the cover back and Mattie popped out. All three boys fell on the floor laughing. Of course, that was the end of my peace in bed!

12 Reasons I LOVE hide and seek:

1. You don’t need any toys to play.

2. Three (or more) is never a crowd.

3. No batteries required.

4. When you’ve found a great place, you just sit there QUIETLY and rest.

5. You can play it anytime, anywhere.

6. I played it when I was a kid.

7. My parents played it when they were kids.

8. No adult supervision needed.

9. No assembly required.

10. It’s not a contact sport.

11. There’s nothing to clean up when you’re done.

12. I want to hide next!

My mind keeps going back to that enormous house we looked at in Norwell last week. (Of course, I love it. As Ted put it, “what’s not to love about a 6 bedroom, brand new house on 2 acres?”) If we lived there, I might never find the kids again…

Mother's Work

I'm exhausted. (Blogging is oddly addictive - so much so that I deny myself a physical need to do it, but more on that another day.) I was headed down to bed just moments ago. One last step - to check on the kids. As I stuck my head in Mattie's room, I immediately noticed his skinny little bottom sticking up in the air. No pull-up. Closer examination revealed a wet, skinny little bottom sticking up in the air. Ted put Mattie in bed tonight. He obviously skipped two important steps: going to the potty AND putting on the pull-up. I called Ted down to help me. I tackled the bed while he took care of Mattie. Before we put him back in his bed he said, "I need a drink of water." Time to refuel.

A mother's work is from son up to son down. And then some. Good night!

Dinner's served

I can make my kids cry just by talking about what's for dinner.

As he was cleaning up lunch, Ted asked me what's for dinner tonight. Fish with vegetable stew was the answer. Elliot stopped in his tracks and burst out crying. And it won't even be served for another 4 hours...

Notes on the Fridge

Elliot left the following note, taped to the refrigerator. It reads:

"I can't eat it for breakfast. And if I do eat it for, I will not eat it. Love, Elliot."

His meat and vegetables from dinner were tucked away inside, awaiting their their appearance at breakfast the next morning.

My golden locks

Today was a big day for me. I got my hair cut. That may not seem like anything out of the ordinary, but I have been growing my hair for long time. I had 11" of hair cut off, and donated it to Locks of Love. While I have been growing my hair out for 2 1/2 years, the idea of donating my hair didn't occur to me until a few months ago. It started innocently enough in the winter of 2006-2007. I had just had my third baby boy, and was tired of spending 4 hours and $200 at the hair salon every 3-4 months. So, I decided to let my hair grow out. I stopped highlighting it, and started letting it grow. I went from getting a hair cut every 6-8 weeks, to once every 6 months. It was incredibly liberating. Right from the get go, it seemed like a win-win situation. I spent less time and money at the hair salon, and my longer hair required much less daily styling. I had about 2-3 inches cut off every 6 months, which still allowed for substantial, but gradual growth. (My best guess is that my hair grows about 6-8 inches a year.) I didn't really give much thought to my hair again until this Spring, after the birth of my fourth son Theo. Then, I started to feel like my hair was getting too long, and was in the way. It was a combination of having really long hair during the warmer months for the first time, and having a baby who spit up a lot. Somehow, Theo always seemed to spit up right into my hair. I was finally feeling like the time had come to go back to a short style. One day, out of the blue, I saw a friend's post on Facebook. Her 7 year old daughter had just gotten 8" cut off of her hair, and donated it to Locks of Love. Suddenly, the idea was born. Before I read Carrie's post, my only notion of donating hair was from the Gift of the Magi stories. I had never heard of anyone doing it in real life. But, at that point, it was still just an idea, and I tucked it away. A few weeks later, I ran into someone who had babysat for us once, a long time ago. I hadn't seen her in a while, and I barely recognized her because her hair was so much shorter than it had been. I commented on her new style, and she mentioned that she had just had her hair cut off to donate to Locks of Love. The wheels started spinning again. I did some research online, and was pretty much off and running at that point. I had planned to wait until September, when my hair would be an inch or so longer, and the kids would be back in school (and I would have more free time to get my hair cut without four boys in tow.) But, my body had something else in mind. About two weeks ago, I noticed that my hair was starting to fall out, signaling my entry into that lovely post-partum phase that seems to be as much fun and make as much sense as the non-stop vomiting of early pregnancy. So, I decided to accelerate my plan, and went and got my hair cut today! It feels great, and I don't mind it being super short at all. I actually have a much harder time, mentally, looking myself in the mirror and seeing my hair dark (my natural color, which thankfully enabled me to qualify as a hair donor - you can't donate bleached hair,) than seeing it short. I do find myself running my fingers through my hair pretty much constantly, and feeling the back of my (bare) neck. But, I'm already off and running again. I plan to grow my hair back out immediately, trimming off only the bare minimum. In 2 years I should have enough for my next donation. Care to join me?

Egnaro

I came downstairs just now to kick Jack off of the computer (after 45 minutes of SCRABBLE.) I happened to notice that he was playing using the name Egnaro, a new pseudonym. I commented on it, and asked whether he had seen it used as a name somewhere, or whether he had made it up. "It's orange backwards," he retorted, and walked away.

My Full House

My mom is visiting this week. Ted is in CA for 5 days and, as if often the case, I asked my mom to come stay with me while he's gone. We used to have a guest room with a comfortable queen sized bed, but over the last few years, we've started to run out of space around here. What was once the guest room became Mattie's room sometime in 2007. We were able to keep the queen bed, but added his crib to the room. Elliot had recently moved into a twin bed himself, so we moved the crib that he had been sleeping in down into our room. That way, we had two twin beds in Jack and Elliot's room, a queen bed and a crib in Mattie's room, and our bed and an extra crib in our room. It worked out nicely that way for a long time. When we had guests, we would move Mattie into the crib in our room, and we could still use his room as a guest room. But, when Theo arrived, we had to move things around again. We had to put a bigger bed in Mattie's room, so the guest bed had to go. On this visit, Grammy is bunking with Jack (in Elliot's bed,) and I moved Elliot onto an air mattress in Mattie's room. Theo is still in his little nest in my room. When Ted comes home, we'll have 7 people sleeping in three bedrooms.

I have an appointment tomorrow to see a house for rent in Norwell. (Ted and I have been talking seriously about moving since this time last year. Mostly, we do a lot of talking.) I drove by the house on Tuesday to get a preview. Norwell is a great town, with great schools (especially their middle school, owing to the fact that they have such an extraordinary principal.) The house is situated on a big, beautiful lot, with plenty of room for a garden, woods to romp in, and enough room left over for a regulation wiffle ball field. But, as I sat parked in the driveway, looking up at the house, it looked empty and lonely. Our house may be small, but it is full of love. My boys can't get enough of each other (or me, for that matter.)

As I write this, Elliot is asleep in my bed (owing entirely to the fact that he and Elliot enjoy each others' company so much that they can't fall asleep.) When I'm done, I'll carry him up into Mattie's room. Grammy will go to sleep with Jack in his room. I'll climb into bed beside Theo. We'll all dream of life in our full house, all night long.

Quote of the Day

We have had a lot of trouble lately with Jack and Elliot criticizing Mattie, especially as he increasingly tries to assert himself as a fellow big kid. In this instance, Mattie had just finished drawing something on a piece of paper. He showed his work proudly to Jack, Elliot and me. Jack took one look at it, and declared that it wasn't a good drawing because it was just a scribble. I took Jack aside, and explained to him once again that criticizing other people wasn't acceptable behavoir. He looked at me, and with utter frustration declared, "Well, I don't like to lie!"

Widgy and Wedgy

I took Elliot and Jack to the hospital this afternoon for their annual allergy blood tests. As we headed out the alley towards the train, I noticed Elliot's shorts were sagging down a lot. I asked him if his pants were snapped and zipped (which they aren't most of the time.) He told me, "They are snapped and zipped. I know why they are falling down, and it's not because they aren't snapped and zipped. I forgot to put on any underwear today."

Before our trip to the hospital, we went to Magic Beans with Grammy. The boys got the presents they picked out last week. We are now the proud owners of two frogs. As soon as we picked them up at the counter, Jack took on the task of naming them. He asked the woman at the store whether they were boy frogs or girls frogs, and she told him that they are both boy frogs. So, after a little bit of serious thought, Jack settled upon Widgy and Wedgy. Jack is extremely creative, and has always been fascinated with names. So, I knew from the moment he thought of naming the frogs, that we would be in for an interesting duo. Widgy and Wedgy are actually infinitely more boring than I expected. A few months back, (when I was still pregnant with Theo and we often talked about baby names,) I found a piece of paper on the table with the following written on it:

Children:
Ryan Alex Bruntrager 16
Marie Mary Bruntrager 14
Ed Jason Bruntrager 12
Rheneas Ashley Bruntrager 9
Sandford Thomas Bruntrager 9
Zoe Hanna Bruntrager 8
Benjamin Xavier Bruntrager 6
Lizzy Penelope Bruntrager 4
Jim Martin Bruntrager 2
Cheyenne Ellen Bruntrager 2
Harvey Berliosz Bruntrager 1
Quincy Allen Bruntrager 0

Mom-Dad
Michelle Donna White-Bruntrager
John Samuel Bruntrager

Jack, who at that time could often be found pouring over the Baby Names book, had scripted out his future family! Yep, an even dozen. And, in case you're wondering, the numbers following their names are their ages. Naming other people isn't the extent of his interest. He also has a penchant for inventing alternative names for himself. Two of his more recent and long-standing ones are Il Juuhii Phoret (pronounced Eel YOU-hee Four-EH,) and Zeljixq Noggip Faswilk, pronouncing every letter. Oh, and he also tells me quite often how much he wishes his name were Aaron.

Knowing all the hard work and aggravation kids can deliver, at least they keep us laughing through it all. I actually remember having a list similar to Jack's at some point in my late elementary school years. And, I also made concrete plans more than once to change my name. One of the front runners was "Barbie". As for my future children, my list ironically contained only three girls' names, Abigail Stefania and Christina Lauren (pronounced as in Sophia Loren) among them. Luckily for me, there were Cabbage Patch Dolls. For Jack, it's frogs.