I Remember When

I remember when Friday nights were "date night". Doug and I would come home from our respective jobs, change into our "weekend clothes" and go out to dinner. Date night now involves trying to find someone to watch our four kids and then lamenting how much dinner and a babysitter cost these days;

I remember when I had "weekend clothes";

I remember when I slept past 6 am;

I remember when I didn't have a cell phone or Twitter or this blog or Facebook or even the internet;

I remember when I could talk on the phone for hours with friends without interruptions;

I remember when my kids were born and how amazed I was that "I" created such gorgeous babies;

I remember when my grocery bill was under $100;

I remember life before diapers;

I remember telling Doug I wanted four kids;

I remember having a cleaning schedule for my apartments and how neat and orderly I used to be;

I remember being able to spell words to Doug that I didn't want the kids to know;

I remember being able to listen to my alternative rock music in the car because no one listened to the music;

I remember owning more than one pair of shoes;

I remember our first apartment, our first house, our second house, our final house;

I remember weekends without softball or hockey, nights without piano music from my 9 year old filling the house and days without kids drawing on my walls with pencil.

I remember it all. And while there are so many things I miss, I wouldn't trade anything for the life I have with my husband and kids.

Different

The noise level in the house is different when Doug is home during the week. The kids climb all over him when he's sitting down, like they haven't seen him for years. They fight over who is going to go with Daddy to the dump or the grocery store. They play together better when he is around.

The tension I carry in my neck, shoulders and back releases when Doug is home during the week. I feel like a different person knowing that at least for one day, the daily responsibilities are not all mine to bear. I leave the house on these days, usually to volunteer for a couple of hours in Meg's classroom, or actually run errands (which I never do when I'm home with 2 or 3 of the kids during the week as it's just too stressful). I come home feeling refreshed, happy, less anxious. It's a nice feeling, a different feeling from how I feel the rest of the week.

I told him last night that it actually bothers me deeply that the kids are better behaved when he is around. I'm not mad at him about it. I'm just sad that the air in the house is so much more negatively charged when he is at work. I want to bottle some of the positively charged air when he's here and sprinkle it on the kids when he's at work that they can be nicer to each other and to me. The days of Daddy at home during the week won't last too much longer (for which I'm happy, yet sad) and it would be lovely to find a way too keep some of the happiness that comes from him being around. Because certainly if I feel it, the kids feel it too.

Memories Lost and Found

Yesterday Doug and I were cleaning up in the basement. I have friends coming over to scrapbook on Saturday and thought they'd prefer to be able to walk into my scrapbook area and not leap over empty wrapping paper rolls, empty boxes and about a thousand other items that have been tossed down there since Thanksgiving. It's an unfinished basement, and I use half of it for my Creative Memories business. Once Thanksgiving rolls around, my business goes into hiatus for a bit so that I can use the tables up in my dining room, and wrap Christmas presents away from the ever-prying eyes of four children.

Once we tackled organizing one part of the basement and realizing that indeed, we DO need to hold a yard sale, we started on the large stack of boxes that we have moved with us several times. Doug and I have lived in 1 apartment, 1 rented house and 2 homes of our own since 1997 and we have lots of STUFF. Things like a street sign from the street he grew up on. Things like a rather large collection of cassette tapes (for LISTENING, not WATCHING) from back before either of us owned CD players. I pulled out a tape yesterday and it happened to be one that he made for me in 1991 (yes, that would be 19 years ago!) and popped it into my very ancient, but perfectly workable, boom box. Yes, a mix tape from my boyfriend-now-husband that I used to play on that same boom box. It was fun to listen to the music while we worked, and we had a good laugh at the schmaltzy music we liked to listen to.

In another box Doug found a little wrist rattle that belonged to Megan. It was a little pink elephant head. We had named it Ellie Funt and she loved it. I have a ton of pictures with her wearing Ellie on her wrist when she was little. I got really emotional looking at that silly little elephant rattle, partly because holy cow I STILL have it, and partly because she's going to be 9 in a week. That little girl that loved Ellie is a big girl who loves American Girl dolls, Taylor Swift and books.

We'll be finding more memories in the basement over the next few months as we figure out out what to put in our yard sale. We'll be trying to sell lots of the kids clothes, old toys, cribs, things that have been a part of our lives for the better part of 9 years. Part of me wants to hold on to them, to hold on to the past, but the other part of me is ready to move on. There are plenty more memories to be made, clothes to outgrow, toys to put aside. We have to make room for those, even while we hold the past in our hearts.

Over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we go

(Alternate title to this post: Alzheimer's sucks~a visit to see my grandmother)

Yesterday we packed up the kids and took them to the nursing home to visit my grandmother. This may seem unremarkable to some, except that it's been TWO YEARS since I've seen my grandmother. The last time I saw her was here at my home on Thanksgiving, two years ago. On that day, her mind wasn't terribly sharp, and she repeated the same questions over and over, but she walked into my house of her own accord and had a lovely time watching the kids play and enjoying family. After that Thanksgiving, she fell and broke her hip and for awhile, we thought she'd never recover. But recover she did, and while her mind continued to fail her, her body healed.

My grandmother is the only grandmother I've ever known. We rarely saw eye to eye, but I know that she loved me and I loved her. She lacked what we would call a "filter"; she'd say things like "if you only lost a little weight, you'd be such a pretty girl" and while she meant well, those kind of words hurt. Eventually though, I learned to just take what she said with a grain of salt.

Several years ago Alzheimer's came calling. Alzheimer's is an awful disease. Alzheimer's takes the person you know and love and replaces them with someone who doesn't have any idea who you are. For a long time, she'd have moments of real clarity and be able to carry on a conversation. Now, she doesn't always know my dad (her son), rarely knows my mother and speaks in a jumbled sort of way. But let's give her credit~she will be 91 next month!

So yesterday I thought we should go visit. I arranged with my parents to have them meet us there. I had very low expectations of how the visit would go. We had prepared the kids that she's in a wheelchair now and that she might not say too much to us. I think I was preparing myself as well; I wasn't expecting her to remember me at all. But G.G.(short for grammy-great) surprised us all. She called my mother by her full name, something my mom says she never does. And when my father mentioned my name to her, she repeated it back to him with a flicker of recognition. You can better believe that I cried, a lot. She was more animated than usual, according to my parents, because of the kids being there. It was a visit that was so much more than I had hoped for and I am so glad that we went.

As we were getting back into our cars yesterday, my mom said something to me that was so true that I wished it had been said to me sooner. She told me that while she may not be the grammy (or mother) that we once knew, she is the grammy that we have. She may not know me the next time we go, but we certainly aren't going to wait so long to go visit again. I was proud of how well the kids did while we were there (of course having a 5 foot singing Santa in the lobby helped as well!), considering that only Megan remembers her G.G. at all.

Do I wish I'd gone to visit her sooner? Of course I do. It's not like I was sitting around doing nothing the last two years; taking care of four kids takes the majority of my time. That's not an excuse, just reality. I will also fully admit that a part of me, a big part, misses the old grammy and that I find it hard to see her the way she is now. That part of me wants to remember how she was the last time she was here because it reminds me of how she used to be. I wanted the kids, especially Megan, to remember her from that last visit. But yesterday's visit was good for us all. I think I did a little healing and can only hope that she knows me again the next time we go.

Fall fun in photos

Saturday after Meg and Drew had hockey (oh yes, it's THAT time of year again) we went on a quest for pumpkins. I was hoping to find a pumpkin patch to avoid going to Pumpkin Land but even in the middle of farm country there were no pumpkin patches to be found. So we ended up at Pumpkin Land. It has moved from its previous location since we went two years ago and I was pleasantly surprised. The new location is bigger, so even though there were a gazillion people there on a gorgeous, mild Saturday afternoon, it didn't feel that crowded.

Before I post the photos, let me tell you about Izzie and her little photo spread. Izzie LOVES lambs and sheep. She sleeps with two pink "shaky" lambies, one of which is a little more loved than the other (so thank goodness she has two). She cries when she sees a sheep in a book. Her addiction is a bit much, but she's 2 1/2 so we'll just go with it. Annie and I came upon the sheep first in the barn, and she immediately whirled around and asked "where Izzie?" She KNEW that we had to get Izzie into the barn to see the sheep. You'll see why as you scroll down.

(I love this silo)
(I know it's blurry but she's so happy!)

(Yup, she KISSED it!)

(We rode a tractor pulled wagon down to the pumpkin patch)

My photos are unedited. If I had a good few hours, I'd upload them to my editing program, Memory Manager (it's a Creative Memories program) and really heighten the colors.

Yes, Big Families CAN Go Out to Dinner

We don't often go out to dinner as a family. The main reason we don't go out is we're a family of 6~dining out is expensive for us. While I've heard rumblings that the economy is improving, the State of Maine is always last to experience such joys. We may get the first sunrise, but we always get the last of everything else. If we do go out, we stick to restaurants that we know won't break the bank, are places that the kids like to eat (obviously) and aren't just fast food. I mean, I can make mac and cheese and cheese quesadillas for a LOT less than it would cost at a restaurant.

With that said, we do take the kids out as special treats at times. Saturday we told the kids that if they cleaned their rooms with minimal fuss, we'd take them out for Mexican. We are not above bribing our kids with food for a change of scenery for us all (oh, and of course food we don't have to prepare and dishes someone else cleans up). We got to our favorite place and the wait was literally 2 minutes. If that's not a sign of the economy, I don't know what is (sometimes the wait there is 30 minutes). Anyway, as we were brought to our table, I was listening to another patron count how many kids we have. I'm sure we look like an armada coming into the restaurant, but the kids were being very well behaved. And they remained well behaved for our entire meal. Only Drew couldn't sit still in his seat; he was fascinated with a table of older boys seated behind us and kept turning to watch them. Other than that, no one yelled, spilled their drinks, threw food or any other tantrum that we often see at home. I was quite proud of them.

We get that "look" a lot when we go out to eat. That look of disdain from people, especially older people, that we've brought our kids out to eat. Last I checked, there wasn't a law against a big family eating out. If our children do have a bad behavior moment, they are removed from the table and brought to a quieter area to calm the heck down. But those moments are rare; for the most part, they're thrilled to be out somewhere else to eat and try hard to be on their best behavior. I'm not sure why people feel the need to judge. I suppose we all judge someone else at some point in time, but it really annoys me that people do that to my kids. We may be a big family, but we do have manners and they are expected to be used in public (at home, well, that's a post for another day). So to those to give us the "look"~buzz off. Big families can, and will, go out to eat.

Family

Saturday Doug and I traveled down to Boston. It was a gorgeous day, similar to our wedding day exactly eleven years earlier. Again, we were dressed in finery, off to celebrate another union. The union of my brother Eric and his new bride Alyssa.

Eric and Alyssa said their "I Dos" twice; once in August, surrounded by my parents and her parents, and then again earlier this month in Paris. Saturday night was the family and friend gathering at Mistral and it was such a lovely time. I got to meet all her family, some of whom I'm friends with on Facebook but hadn't met in person. I got to hear how much her family adores my brother. And I got to remind people how happy I am that Eric has Alyssa in his life.



It was a great night. We got to celebrate our anniversary while celebrating their wedding. Eric and Alyssa are just so perfect for each other and we're so happy she's part of our family.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

When I was a kid, I distinctly remember going to a now defunct department store to see Santa. I have no idea what I asked for that Christmas, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't the racket that it is at our mall now~you can get just about anything with a picture of your child and Santa on it, or even have your pet get a picture with Santa! I don't remember if we had to wait in line for a long time, as the memory of the actual event is pretty fuzzy (my mom says I remember nothing of my childhood without prompting).

A few years ago, we started taking the kids to a private, free meeting with Santa. It was hosted by the school department where my parents work, and was just for the kids and grandkids of school department employees. Santa always came with Elf Dennis and there were cookies, pictures to color, and a much quieter atmosphere than the mall visit. This year we had to skip the visit with Santa at the school due to Izzie's collarbone; the visit was just 3 days after the fall and break, and the thought of keeping her strapped up in her stroller and car seat to go see Santa while she was in pain was just too much for us. My dad ran into Mrs. Claus at work one day and she was asking why our family wasn't at the meet-and-greet as we always have been. When my dad explained about Izzie's fall and our predicament, she said that Santa would need to be making a special visit to see our kids. Can you believe it?

Yesterday was that visit, at my parents' house. Santa and Mrs. Claus were there waiting for us. It was truly magical moment for the kids, and I was so proud of how well they did, as I was expecting epic fail, especially with the twins:



Check out "Santa's Magic Key", because it's a really cool explanation of how Santa can get in your house if you don't have a chimney/fireplace (like us!). Mrs. Claus took the last picture for us, which was so lovely of her. It was a great time for the kids, and very magical for Doug and me to see them all enjoy themselves. I hope they remember this when they get older, but if not, I'll be sure to scrapbook it for them! I managed to find a little Christmas spirit along the way as well.

Four Years

It's been four years since I left the working world to become a stay at home mom. A lot has changed for me since that day~we've moved, and I've had 3 more children. I remember being so incredibly adamant with Doug when we got pregnant with Drew that I WOULD be staying home and that we'd need to figure out how to make everything work so that I could do that. My mom stayed home until I was old enough to watch my brother for a bit after school (when I was 12 and he was 10) and in my mind that's how I wanted my life to be. I can honestly say, four years later, that I didn't do quite enough soul searching at that time. I looked at the finances, realized that the cost of two in daycare would take almost my entire paycheck at a job I didn't love, and said I wanted to stay home. I have a tendency to put my mind to something without thoroughly thinking it through. This was one of those times.

I know there are those out there who would love to stay home and cannot for financial reasons, and those of you who love working and know that staying at home isn't for you. I don't begrudge anyone their choices; everyone has to do what is best for them and their family and no one has the right to tell them otherwise. Right now I am talking about MY choices and how they affect ME.

Being a stay at home mom for ME is incredibly difficult. I love my children dearly, but there are days when I would rather be anywhere but here. The days tend to blend together. There is no structure, aside from the girls' afternoon nap, and I am a person who likes some structure. The monotony of being at home all the time gets to me and by the time Doug gets home at night I feel like the house has closed in on me. I think his exact words were "raving lunatic" or some such thing. I'm sure a lot of that lately has to do with all those broken bones we've been dealing with. Izzie can't spend much time strapped in a car seat or stroller because it hurts, so we're forced to spend more time here. The girls are almost 2. Every reader with a child over 2 knows what that age is like, and having that doubled is enough to do a person in. Drew will be 4 in three weeks. He's bored to tears on the days he isn't at school. Put it all together and it's enough to make us all crazy.

Am I doing my children a disservice by being home with them? There are days when I heartily say YES to that. I feel like they don't get the best of me, and that is what they need to grow up healthy and happy. I'm sure they can feel my sadness and I know they've seen me cry and not know why. I certainly don't want to go back to work just because being at home is hard and it stresses me out; that would make my kids feel like I don't love them and I'm just running away from them. It's a terrible position to be in. Of course all I want is for them to be happy and if happy for them means that I'm not here all the time then maybe it's something I really need to consider. I know what I'd like to do if I got a job, and I wouldn't be doing it for the money because it pays squat. However, if working means that my children are happier and healthier, and in turn so am I, then maybe it's time.

If I had just one wish

I blogged once before about my cravings and how much more stable and sane I would feel if those things were to come true. I feel incredibly unhinged the majority of the time. I want my life to be going in a certain direction, and as soon as I feel that it's the tiniest bit off, my emotions go berserk and I can't reign them in.

While I was away last weekend at Blogvention2008, Doug gave the twins a bit more freedom in the house. I don't blame him for doing it, because it would be nice for them to learn that no, they cannot climb on the piano bench and that the computer is NOT for them to bang on. At their age, Drew had complete freedom in the house. Anyway, since I have come home, I haven't been able to deal with them having that freedom. They're sitting here in the computer room right now, looking at books that they really shouldn't be touching and it's all I can do not to go put them back into the living room. They shove the baby gates aside because they can (with the configuration of our house, we have no way of attaching gates to anything at all) and basically do whatever they please. The word no means nothing to them at all.

If I had just one wish, it would be that either I can deal with them tearing apart my house, or in the alternative, that they would listen to me. The lack of control that I feel daily is killing me. I am constantly yelling to get someone to listen, but it doesn't work. I try to let them have their freedom and they do things like pull all the things off the fridge, take food out of the pantry, or chase the poor kittens. They climb the stairs, which is a BIG no-no here due to Annie's cast and the fact that they aren't good coming down them yet. So I spend my days literally hovering; I have to stay in the room they're in or they run rampant. If I try to go brush my teeth, I catch them banging on the computer (no laptop here), and going to the bathroom is right out unless someone is here to watch their every move, or they're in their highchairs. Never mind the fact that Drew is an absolute NIGHTMARE with them these days, knocking them down, taking their toys and running around like an idiot himself. I have even less control with him it seems.

So I'll breathe a little, have more coffee and try to deal. But what I really want to do is go away. I want to run away and let someone else have this life for awhile. It really is becoming too much for me to handle.

So much to say, so little time

We've had a very busy few days. I've been trying to blog all weekend (which I should be doing since I joined NaBloPoMo) but it just hasn't worked in my favor. So, instead of writing blah blah blah, it's a Monday Photo Show:

The money cat is Lira. She's been our kitty for 11 years. These little guys are our newest additions, which Lira isn't fond of quite yet. Leonard is on the left; Sheldon is on the right. And yes, we named them after the protagonists from The Big Bang Theory.

A Monday Tuesday

My day started off much like hers, with a massive migraine that was a holdover from yesterday. And the stupid thunderstorms that we are supposed to be getting, which would relieve said migraine, are going all around us. HELLO! I need a thunderstorm. Please. Thank you.

But anyway, we had a really lovely weekend here. Doug met his father at our other house Saturday morning and they took the old tenants' junk to the dump. Hooray for that chapter being over. Our new tenants move in this coming weekend. Saturday afternoon friends from our old neighborhood came up to visit. We hung out in the yard, getting eaten alive by black flies, even with our fire pit going. It was nice to visit, catch up and have the kids play nicely together. It's always a bonus when that happens.

Sunday was our family cookout. My parents, my in-laws, and my brother-in-law and his family came to spend some time out in the yard with us. We joked that is was awfully nice of us to have twin babies so that the grammies each had one to push on the swings! Thank goodness our families get along so well. It certainly would make things awkward if they didn't.

Yesterday we went to the town "parade". It is a bit of a joke, as it is very small and literally lasts only a couple of minutes. But, we saw friends and it was nice to feel like we belong here in this little town. Part of the reason we moved here is that Doug has worked here in town for almost 10 years and is established here. It's nice to be on our own and making our own friends and we can start to establish ourselves in the community. It feels good doing that for ourselves and our kids. After the parade we worked hard in the yard, mulching and planting dahlia bulbs.

In all it was a great weekend and I was sad to have it end. Doug isn't on vacation again until early July so that's a long time for me to be doing most of this on my own. I will have our babysitter starting to work 2 days a week in a couple of weeks, and that will alleviate some of my stress (I hope!).

Here are some of our weekend photos:

(The playset!)

(Drew at the parade)

(Meg at the parade)

(Seriously hot and tired babies, at the parade)

Logistically speaking

It's not easy being a large family. We tend to do things as separate entities. For instance, Doug usually takes Meg and Drew to the grocery store while I stay home and the girls nap. Or, Doug will play outside with Meg and/or Drew and I putter around inside while the girls nap (I sense a pattern). But seriously, when we go places as a family, we have to plan ahead. If we are going somewhere that requires a purchasing anything bigger than a gallon of milk and the store does not have the double seated grocery/shopping cart, we can't all go together because of the behemoth double stroller we have for the twins. If we do require the use of the double stroller, then we must shop strategically. Therefore, we can go to BJs (which is like Sam's Club, but closer to our house) without the stroller as we did today, but we cannot go to the local grocery store.

Being a large family is different than what I'm used to. I come from a family of 4~my parents, me and my brother. Doug, on the other hand, is also from a family of 6. He is the youngest of 4 boys. How his mother survived is still beyond me. I digress. We take our kids everywhere we can, when we are both together. Meg's hockey; check. Meg's softball; check. But we aren't always together. Lots of times I'm doing things on my own, and Doug will meet me there. Even getting to a 5:30 softball practice requires military precision and logistics. All kids must be fed starting at 4:30. Meg must be done with eating and into softball uniform by 5:00. We must be out the door by 5:20. I feel a bit like a drill sargent. At times, I find myself almost yelling to keep some sort of order (actually, I yell. A. lot. I don't deny that).

We are finally coming into a saner time with the four though. The twins are more predictable and enjoy going outside. We still have to watch them like hawks, since rocks are tasty, and while we live far from a main road, we are in the woods and the girls like to wander. Meg and Drew can play outside for hours. And starting later this week, we'll probably have a hard time getting them to come in at all, as their new playset is arriving AND being installed (thank you Mom and Dad). I'll post pictures when it's set up.

I am hoping, as the twins grow, that life as a big family mellows out a little. However, as Meg plays soccer, hockey and softball, I have a feeling that we'll be running to and fro a lot more instead of slowing down. And I'm sure the logistics will get even more difficult to manage, or maybe easier as the kids are able to handle more on their own. My expectations need to mellow out too, I guess. I want things to run smoothly, and most of the time they don't. I have to learn to go with the flow. Because before I know it, it'll just be Doug and me here and what will I do then?