Zorak, My Knight In Shining Armor

He and his trusty steed er, bedtime routine, have come to the rescue! Two nights running, he's taken the boys after supper to let them play with electricity (ie. science), guide them in tidying the dining table (ie. home ec!), and then he has seen to it that they are jammied, their wee teeth are scraped clean, and each of their tiny bodies is tucked warmly into bed.

And what am I doing during this time? Lying in bed, incoherent to all but the cries of the littlest one, shifting her from one position to another in an attempt to find the elusive volume control. (It's got to be in there, somewhere!) But the key point to this all is that I am prone. Flat on my back. Under the covers. Deriving some sustenance from knowing that the elder spawn are being tended to and not left to their own devices in the dark of the night.

This is just about as close to heaven as it can get. Or as I can blog about, anyway. *wink*

So it's not so bad when she's back up at three, because by then I've had some semblance of rest and don't feel the need (drive!) to wake Zorak to go dig up a diaper (or some other task I could do myself, if truth be told). He's definitely in this with me, (and therefore I don't feel the need to drag him into it).

OK, perhaps it's not so much the Noble Knight thing as it is a Self-Preservation Thing? Well, either way, it's incredibly attractive, and deeply appreciated! He's my hero, and I love him.

Today the boys and I are going to finish preparing their room. I've got to call the Nice Carpet Lady to come take a look at the rooms, and hopefully just enjoy some time hanging out together. It looks like the start to a beautiful day!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Remodel That Will Not End

I am determined to paint every room in this house YELLOW! This is ironic, as I'm not a big fan of yellow. You'd think I'd go buy a different color? But no. I buy a different shade of yellow. Brilliant.

At least the first bedroom is now painted and has two outlet covers. Zorak hung a door. The room looks very inviting.

For being yellow.

*sigh*

Miss Emily is a bit colicky. Yes, I've switched to decaf (and, as that tastes like crap, I'm also down to maybe three cups a day... exponential decrease in consumption!) Cut out onions, not drinking dairy. Sling? Check. Baby massage? Check. Soothing baths? Check. Soon we will be introducing her to the joy that is Captain Morgan...

Upon the arrival of our fourth colicky infant, we have come to the realization that colick is a lot like the flu. You can do x, y, and z and it'll go away in so many weeks. Or, you can just suck it up and it'll be gone in about the same time. Either way, you're not gettin' any sleep, privacy, or peace and quiet from sundown to sunup for the next month.

*yawn*

Other than that, though, she's a lovely baby. Nurses well, quite alert. She's as strong as James was as a baby - holding her head up and steady, lifting her torso by grabbing our fingers and pulling hard. She's healthy and precious, and we're all very much in love.

The boys are great. They're getting more attention than they did the entire last trimester, so that's been wonderful for all of us.

Balto has more than doubled in size since Christmas. He's HUGE. Happy, and still not the brightest of the bunch, but a good dog. He hasn't messed in the foyer in a while, and he's figuring out how to play fetch. We just take it easy, go slow, and work with his attention span (which happens to be on par with the boys' attention spans, so that's convenient!)

OK, well, I'm sorry I've been quiet. I've been a zombie, to be honest, and zombie-blogging can get a little creepy. So I've spared y'all that spectacle and will try to blog more regularly (or at least around the latest blogger outage - next one scheduled for this evening!) and will be reading when I can. If I miss something good, let me know, okay?

Kiss those babies! (I'm going to go be productive while mine is sleeping!)
~Dy

Very Shaggy Boys and Good Friends

Man, I need to dig out my old photos and scan some in for ya! Y'all may have seen the occasional, very funny comments made here by a gentleman named James. He's real. He's funny. He has amazingly high integrity. He's witty and smart. (He'll kill me for mentioning this, but he's also single... so, you know, email me if you'd like to know more!)

*ahem*

ANYway, he says, "Don’t fret the shaggy boys, remember the boys you hung out with in high school weren’t exactly sporting high and tights and most of us turned out okay." He's right. And to be honest, most of the boys at our high school sporting high and tights ended up with bad cases of backne and blue urine... *sigh*

So, no, I shouldn't fret having Very Shaggy Boys, at all. James (the little one, not the commenter) has such a naturally pixie-like, Elvish look to him, and John's a bit on the Dwarvish side... dress 'em up and it looks like we're raising a team of extras for the LOTR films, though! So I do tend to get a bit verklempt over the state of their heads.

However, this light-hearted, yet wise, comment got me thinking. It's not the hair. Not the clothes. It's the heart, the mind, the soul that we tend to. It does help to keep the hair out of the eyes, yes, but that doesn't fall in the Top Three of Important Parts to Parenting.

Then, as caffeine-induced awareness will do, I jackrabbited about a bit in my head, and began thinking of friends. (Nice segue, huh?) Sometimes life sends you friends for a short time, and life is brighter because of that time. Then space, circumstances, or Life sends you out on different paths. And it's okay.

But once in a while, Life brings your paths back together, and that is truly wonderful. Particularly when you discover that you've both grown and matured (mostly) and that you can enjoy your friendship and all the changes that have taken place in your lives over the years. Your friendship may be rooted in the past, but it can thrive in the here-and-now. Not too many friendships can pick up like that and exist in Today, but the ones that can are priceless.

In high school, James was one of those Very Shaggy Boys. He was one of my very favorite people then. He's still among some of my very favortie people. Even when he calls me to say that he's in New Mexico, staring at the beautiful Sandia mountains, eating a green chile burrito and he's not sharing.

Yes, even then.

James is no longer a Very Shaggy Boy. I am no longer... whatever description you'd pick for those awkward teenage years I survived by the sheer Grace of God. And I think we've turned out OK. Which is good. It's encouraging.

The boys have friends they love and adore. Friends for whom they make special projects, plan get togethers, and shop for birthday gifts. These friends are dear to the boys, and the boys are dear to their friends (one of John's friends drove his mother nuts last week, worried that John wouldn't get his birthday party invitation in time for the party. It was Very Important to this little guy, and that made John feel great.) If they skip the barber shop on the way to Pioneer Club, who cares? Conversely, if we skip it, who cares? In twenty years (um, or more... but I don't want to get too detailed with the dates, here, okay?) the hair, the shoes, the cars don't matter. It's all about the friendship.

Yep. Friendship is good. Friends are good. The hair is just a messy detail that doesn't. really. matter.

(Of course, we're still getting haircuts, but I'm not going to fret over it if it doesn't happen right away!)

Today, kiss those babies, and call a friend!
~Dy

A Nice Outing

The boys, Em, and I hit our local library yesterday. As a Libertarian, I love it. I absolutely, positively love it. The land upon which it is built was donated. The structure? Funded by catfish dinners, book sales, and other private contributions. Every book in the library has been donated. Every book. And the entire thing is run and staffed by volunteers. It's small, and doesn't have a lot of bells and whistles, but it is ours. It is truly a public library, and its doors are open because it belongs to the people-with-a-lower-case-p and not at the whim of government funding projects.

When James learned that it's run by volunteers who come and spend a day a week at the library, he asked if we could do that. Miss Joy, the Wednesday lady, enthusiastically said yes, and pointed out that the library would be able to stay open longer, or perhaps even on another day, if we volunteered our time. What a valuable, valuable lesson for the boys! When things are settled a bit more, this will be one of our projects. The pay, while not legal tender, is absolutely phenomenal.

The five of us then headed into town, the plan being to meet Zorak for lunch, take Miss Emily to meet the ladies at Zorak's work, get the boys (my wonderful, but Very Shaggy boys) to the barber, stop at the Crunchy Market for breads and flours, and then on to Pioneer Club. That was the plan, anyway.

We were at the library an hour or so longer than we'd planned. Zorak had an unexpected meeting. Lunch was at 3:30. The ladies were gone by the time we were done eating. The barber is only open Thurs, Fri, Sat (so the boys are still Very Shaggy). We did get some breads and pastas and made it to Pioneer Club not only on time, but early. In all, a good afternoon and evening.

The baby shower was moved to next Wednesday, so Zorak and I got to sit in on the Bible study. I love our pastor's teaching style. He's informal, articulate, well-read, and humorous. Even Zorak chuckles enough to stay awake, which is helpful beyond belief. Pastor is also a history buff, so he speaks to the way I learn Bible the best: in context. I truly enjoy his studies.

Two of three. No, strike that, three of four. Wow. Three of the four children were sound asleep upon arriving home. James continued to talk uninterrupted (not even to inhale, we don't know how he does it) until after ten. He was asleep at that point, but still talking.

Zorak is exhausted. All these months of constant tension-filled progress and utter lack of sleep have now caught up with him and he is sound asleep by ten-thirty (which, if you know us, you know is ridiculously early - that's our equivalent of the retired crowd eating supper at four!) Em and I stayed up a bit (tired grin), talked and tended the fire, then hit the hay.

In all, a nice outing, indeed.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Finding Our Groove

There's such a fine, fine line between a groove and a rut, isn't there? I think we're doing okay, although there are a few weird moments in each day that cause me to question our decision not to pursue development of a child-safe tranquilizer gun. Small doses at supper would make the meal infinitely less stressful. Larger doses around, oh, say one or two in the afternoon would create a lovely naptime reprieve. And if we could add an infant/puppy dose, oh, the things we could accomplish after supper!

Alas, that's not how God intended life to go. And it's good. Even when your children try to make their siblings laugh with milk in their mouths (and succeed...) Even when, among the four children, someone is awake 24 hours a day (two someones, since that necessitates a partially responsible adult to monitor the activity and/or gas level of alert child...) Even when the toddler is sporting a goose-egg atop a goose-egg and if you lay him down, his profile is beginning to resemble the Grand Tetons.

Yes, even with all of that, and the countless other, "OK, who thought that was a good idea?" moments, it's still not a rut. It's a groove. It's the choppy flow of life's rapids and the winding curves that bring new adventure around each corner. It's what makes you turn to your spouse with a big, maniac grin and shout over the din, "Hold on! This one's gonna be fun!"

And thankfully, those are just moments in the day. They don't comprise the entire day (well, not every day, anyway). Interspersed among the chaotic, hair-pulling, milk sopping, diaper blowing moments are the other ones, the pay off. That's where you discover that your eldest child has a phenomenal grasp of the absurd, and a great sense of humor that you really, truly enjoy. It's in those spaces between the grooves (ruts?) that you see your second child cuddling and singing to one of his siblings, rocking her to sleep, gently kissing her brow, and you realize his dragon-slaying nature is also very deeply rooted in the home. If you look at your toddler between the "no's" and the fits, you see a happy, silly little guy who loves to dance nekkid in the living room, thinks the greatest thrill in life is to make his brothers smile, and gives tremendous spontaneous hugs for no apparent reason other than that he loves you more than anything. And at the end of the day, when everyone is tucked in, read to, kissed and hugged, and you curl up with the baby, you realize the potential yet to be released in this little life, too.

I can't say if we're accomplishing much, or not. It doesn't matter. We're enjoying the trip, riding the rapids, laughing at the spray, and teaching our little ones to navigate the waters themselves. Sometimes they throw an oar overboard and we look at each other in total astonishment, wondering what we're doing wrong. Then we realize, we aren't doing anything wrong. They're little. They do that. That is why we're here. With spare oars, big hugs, and the ability to show them how to use the oar and why it shouldn't be tossed overboard. When the river widens, we enjoy a break on the beach, pick flowers, tell stories, enjoy the view.

And just think, when it's all said and done, in the end, we get to kick back in the fully customized houseboat and watch them wonder why their little one just tossed an oar at his brother's head! We'll know, and we'll know it'll be okay, too, because we recognize a good groove when we see it.

Oh, yes, kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Day I Couldn't Get Warm

Argh! Last night the low wasn't too bad, so Zorak didn't start a fire, and I guess he didn't think it was very cold when he left for work this morning because he didn't start one then, either. I got up this morning and was freezing.

I tried to start a fire before breakast, but we didn't have enough smaller chunks to get a fire going, and it wasn't cold enough that I could justify using books. (Would it ever get cold enough to justify that??? Nah...) So add in that whole nursing issue, and I was one wet, cold, miserable woman today. Spent most of the day begging the boys to come sit with me under the blankets.

They didn't seem phased by the arctic temperatures (ok, the high was 58, but it didn't FEEL like 58...) They played outside, without jackets on and I shivvered uncontrollably every time I looked at them. I put on hot water and tried to coax them in to sit with me on the couch. Hot tea couldn't even lure them in. So then I just stood by the stove, pretending I was tending to the tea. Yeah, I'm pathetic sometimes.

When Zorak arrived home, I pounced on him, gave him a quick kiss, asked how his day was and would-you-please-set-the-house-on-fire-now? Er, I mean, would you start *A* fire now... you know, in the wood stove... but I'm thinking the dining table would put off a nice warm glow...

The fire's been blazing non-stop for the past five hours, but I never did get warm. Emily and I laid down around eight, buried under enough blankets to furnish the Lewis & Clark expedition AND the Donner party with warmth for their travels. As long as nobody moved, I was fine.

But now I'm up again. And Zorak just took off his shirt. He said he's burning up. Yet here I sit, toes numbed, back quivering, limbs trembling from the cold. Even my wool socks aren't staving off the cold. And what does he say? "Have you taken your temperature? You might be coming down with something."

Bite. Your. Tongue. Young man!! No, I CAN'T be coming down with something! Couldn't I just have particularly poor circulation? Temperature-related sensory issues? General neurosis? I CANNOT GET SICK!!!!!

I refuse.

Yeah.

So there.

And I'm tellin' ya, it's really. stinkin. cold in here.

So I'm going to finish my caramel cups and coffee and then crawl back in bed to snuggle with Emily. She'll understand. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

P.S. I did take my temperature, and I don't have a fever, so I'm voting for circulation issues, perhaps? There's hope!

OK, who here is from Hobbs, NM???

Hey, I see in my stats that somebody from Hobbs visits here fairly regularly. The curiosity is killing me! Who's from Hobbs??? Say howdy, will ya? And have a cup of coffee at the North 40 for me, too, please. :-)

OK, back to regular blogging.
Dy

Tell Me More!

Em and I trekked to the market today. It took twice as long as I'd anticipated, because the second any woman passing by realized my sling held, not a pocketbook and notepads, but *shriek* a BABY, said woman felt compelled to talk to me. Today we spoke with three women who'd raised five children each, and they just beamed as they recounted some special event or memory. We heard from one lady who reared eight children, one with four girls and a little boy, and one who also raised three boys and a girl. We heard great-grandma stories and adoring aunt stories. A lady behind me in the checkout line even glowed about her neighbor's children!

I love that. We are so fortunate, and we know it. We cherish it. And we're doing well in our transition period, yet it was so refreshing and encouraging to walk this uplifting path through the market. Just imagine what those encounters would have done to boost my spirits if I was an overwhelmed first-time mom, or having a truly rough day, or questioning my sanity in having had a *gasp* fourth child! What a difference kind words can make.

Then, on the flip side, are those who feel the need to be nasty and snotty about *their own children* when you try to compliment them. ARGH! What is WRONG with these people? Do you really believe your child will somehow behave better if she overhears you lambasting her character to total strangers? One woman ahead of me in line had two little girls. They were not misbehaving or mouthy. They were quite well-behaved, actually, even with the long wait in line. I just had to comment on them. The mother immediately ripped off a few complaints and then offered to give me her two. In jest, of course, but the look on her four year old daughter's face showed that she didn't find it humorous. It just broke my heart. What a difference thoughtless words can make.

So when you're out and about, and you see a mom - of many, of one, it doesn't matter - share a warm story, give a little smile, find something to compliment about her child. You could turn her day around. She may turn out to be one of those who simply cannot hear something positive about her child without having some quip to snap back with, but odds are very good that you will leave someone feeling refreshed and encouraged. It's a good thing to do, and it's worth the effort.

On to other news, we had official Company today. The house wasn't too scary (I hope), and Zorak did all the cooking (which may have looked strange, but Zorak was making his specialties, and I had baby duty). It was one of Zorak's co-workers who'd come over to visit, help in the boys' room, and stay for supper. It was nice to meet him, and we enjoyed having him over. He's a nice guy. He's also a single guy, and he handled the boys' excitement quite well. (They pulled out all the stops on their stash of Stoopid Human Tricks! Wiggling various body parts, crossing only one eye, making odd concoctions, asking odd questions... *sigh* I've got to start getting them out more. Thankfully, they did draw the line before getting to True Guy Humor and Bodily Functions. *whew*) But Co-Worker Man was gracious about it and took it all in stride. For that, I am truly appreciative.

Loved all the responses to the foods, but man, I've got to ask on a non-weekend post sometime! And now I have to find a really great Chinese food restaurant, too! That's one drawback to living in a town with a whopping population of 353 - nobody delivers, but everyone knows where you live, anyway!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

What'cha cookin'?

What did y'all fix for supper tonight? We're slummin' it tonight - it's some kind of green chile stew-ish mixture. Not sure what to call it. Somehow, "oops, we don't have diced tomatoes, think this enchilada sauce will work?" doesn't quite have the panache (with or without the accent marks) that it needs. What's Spanish for "goulash", anyway? Smells delicious, though, and it'll be great w/ shredded cheese and warm tortillas. Everything is great with shredded cheese and warm tortillas.

Oh, I had the most bizarre conversation with a lady today. In her defense, maybe she's new. Or senile. Whatever it was, something wasn't quite connecting and I don't think it can be blamed on my heavy Southwestern accent. ;-)

I looked up retailers for Ener-G foods, hoping to find somewhere a tad closer than the current 40-mile one-way drive for a loaf of bread. Ooo, goody! There's one in Hartselle, just down the road a ways.

So I called, explained that I'd found their number listed as a place to purchase Ener-G brand products and asked which breads they carry. This is, by the way, the point at which I lost the poor woman - she never did get beyond this part of the conversation - but I wasn't aware that this was such a large obstacle, so I kept going, thus compounding the situation and pretty much guaranteeing that I will never get a loaf of bread in Hartselle.

We did establish that they do not have a single Ener-G product in the store, of that much, I am sure. Mostly. The conversation after the introduction went pretty much like this:

NOL (Nice Old Lady): Well, what are you looking for?
Me: Wheat-free breads.
NOL: What's the name of it? E what?
Me: Ener-G. But do you carry any wheat free breads? (you know, considering we've already established that you do not have their stuff there)
NOL: Um, we have macarrons. They're (reading the label) wheat free, gluten free, egg free, dye free, dairy free, soy free, and nut free.
Me: Great. So you do carry other wheat free products, or just, um macaroons?
NOL: Maybe. I'll have to look. Now what kind of products did you want?
Me: Um, bread. Wheat-free Bread. Any brand. I don't care.
NOL: We have pizza crust. (Again, reading the label.) It's made with stone-ground, organic, whole grain flour.
Me: No, that won't work. Unless it specifies another type of flour, like rice or something else, it's going to be wheat.
NOL: We have Ezekiel bread.
Me: (perking up considerably, thinking she's maneuvering into the right plane) Oh, yes, I'm familiar with that, but it does have spelt and we can't do spelt. So, is that the only bread you carry, then?
NOL: Did you want carrots?
Me: *blink* (oookayyyy... now you've lost me)
NOL: ...I mean, do you want produce? We have carrots. We have organic produce and locally grown produce.
Me: Did you say "carrots"?
NOL: Oh! You're looking for carrots? Yes, we do have carrots. Thank you.
Me: DON'T HANG UP!
NOL: Oh, did you need something else?
Me: *sigh* No. Thank you. Have a nice day.
NOL: You, too, sweetie.

There was a part in there where she offered to call her suppliers, but I never did ascertain whether it was the produce suppliers or the dry goods suppliers, or if she was even sure what she was calling them for. Whatever it was, she said that if she can get it, she'll order it for me if I order by the case. Ahhh, yes, bulk mystery foods. It's the adventurous way to buy! So, essentially, she was very, very nice. Not one bit of help, but very friendly about it.

We still don't have any John bread. Fortunately, the store in Huntsville is a Seventh Day Adventist-owned company, so they'll be open tomorrow and we can get our stuff in the morning.

I'm gonna go warm some tortillas and call in the boys (I cannot believe they have been outside, in the dark, playing - for the last two hours!! They are so going to pass out tonight! Muuahhhaahaaahhaaa!)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Four hours later...

I was going to blog after putting the children to bed. The boys have been in bed since 8:30. Emily, however, just now gave up and passed out.

Did you know that there is a subtle, yet striking difference between *not sleeping* because you are simply too lazy to get up from the computer and go to bed, and *not sleeping* because your newborn has decided she needs ALL her caloric requirements met at the END of the day? Interesting, really.

The boys have a subfloor in their *real* bedroom. The wiring has been removed and new outlets positioned. WOOHOO! With any luck, I'll be texturing their room on Monday! The wood stove seems to be able to warm their room (we've had the plastic out of the doorway this evening, testing it) - that room is farthest from the wood stove, so that's quite encouraging!

We made our first trek into town today as a family of s-i-x. On the way into town, as we bumped down the back road, every available slot in the pickup filled with bodies, Zorak chuckled and said, "Wow, we have a passle of kids!" Yesiree, that we do. We smiled all the way into town.

And really, it was a quiet day. A productive day. A good day. But I'm just too tired now to really expound on it. SO, I will bid you good night.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

That was a *long* half hour! ;-)

So how many of us discovered this morning just how addicted to our favorite blogs we really are?? Hmmm? 'Fess up! I don't know what was worse - not being able to blog, or not being able to leave comments on my favorite blogs.

*whew* I'm glad that's over!

So, as I was saying this morning at 2:30, when I discovered the Blogger Outage... Zorak worried about me making the drive last night, so the dear man did it for me. I had supper on the table, we said grace, inhaled our food and then James, Smidge and Zorak headed north for Pioneer Club. John had to stay home with Baby Girl and me, so we had a quiet evening of tidying the place up a bit, watching a movie, and then reading more about dragons (life cycle and behavioral habits!) All three of us were out cold by 8:30!

So why was I up at 2:30, you may ask. I was up because my body is not accustomed to getting that many hours of sleep in a row. So I was dozing lightly by one, and lingering in that half-awake state that comes when your body is allowed to wake gently, on its own. (Odd sensation, to be truthful. Not quite sure I liked it.) When suddenly, from the darkness beside me, ***BLATT*** Slime came flying at me, smacking me square in the neck and chest. Ewww. Poltergiest? Nope. Food fight? Well, sort of. Em's first spewing incident. And it was quite impressive, let me assure you!

She was none to thrilled with the whole lights-on, changing-o'-the-clothes, warm-rag-suddenly-turns-cold-air-on-damp-skin thing. So, once everyone had been mopped up and dressed properly, she decided she was up. I was up. We hung out for a bit. It was kind of nice, and turned out to be rather fortuitous, as the fire had died down and the low last night was 28' (yes, I know, a downright balmy temperature if you live up North... call me a weenie... I relit the fire!)

Today we've done nothing spectacular: read, read, read, play outside, gather rocks, read, and eat. The next three days should yield good results on the house, though, so I'm not feeling one bit guilty. ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Well, That's Something

Yesterday, as I began to hang the umpteenth load of wash, the phone rang. I won't generally answer if I'm doing something important, but let's face it, this was laundry. I could use a little company as I pull, hang, pin, pull, hang, pin. It was a lady from church, calling to touch base. We talked for a bit, caught up on the children's lives, and then she said, "Did Zorak tell you about the shower?" *blink blink* Um, no...

The ladies at church are throwing me a baby shower next Wednesday! I was stunned. Perhaps I figured by the fourth child, people barely notice the weight gain, let alone throw you a shower. I don't know what I expected, but this was certainly a pleasant surprise. It's not even really a need for gifts, to be honest. Bring desserts! I am simply thrilled to (a) be thought of by these kind ladies, (b) be able to spend some time with the women of our church, and (c) be in a church that gets up and does things for its congregation. Little things. Things family does for family.

For years, I've been the one in the churches we attend who leads the Bible studies, organizes the food delivery for sick families, rallies the women to help clean house for new mamas. It's always fallen on me to get the phone chain started and follow up at the end. And when I haven't done it (like with my wedding, or my first three births), well, it hasn't gotten done. So. I've never had a shower thrown by one of my churches before. While this may be little, I have to say it touched me in a very big way. They even scheduled it for Wednesday evening because they didn't want to ask me to drive the hour (each way) an extra day during the week! I feel so humbled, and so very thankful.

The boys, Emily, cat-dog and I took a walk around the property yesterday. It was nice to get out and meander. I refer to Balto as cat-dog because it was much like taking a walk with a large cat on speed. He kept walking and pouncing and rolling over right in front of me. Nearly killed him a couple of times, but he still followed us happily back to the house, so I guess he knows it wasn't intentional. The boys thought it was great fun to show Emily the barn, the creek, and the meadow. John wore his batman costume. James made a puppet out of a dead root he'd found. Smidge held my hand and maneuvered the tufts of grass and clumpy bits like a champ. It was wild trying to get all of us shod and jacketed and out the door. But very, very worth it.

Today we'll do more wash, a little more snuggling and reading. We'll enjoy the sunshine and the puppy. We'll have an early supper with Zorak and then head up for Pioneer Club in the evening. The boys will bask in the joy that they feel at church, and I will sit and rock my sweet baby girl, and give thanks for all I've been blessed with.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

*Again* with the Deneuralyzer, and New Blogs

Whew, we all survived yesterday! Yay! I do think, however, that I'm going to see if Zorak can get one of those things through acquisitions at work. Sometimes it's nice to work for the Feds, don't ya think?

I know this is all about finding our groove. It does happen, and while it's not pretty, well, as my mother used to say, "Tough." Still, ugh. If we'd had another ER trip, I was going to a different hospital. That's all there was to it, know what I mean? Anyhow, I'm glad it's a fresh new day!

When I awoke this morning, the house was sheathed in a slivery glimmer. I couldn't see trees just 30' out from the house. It was beautiful. The glimmer is burning off now, and today looks like Laundry Day. Let's pray for a breeze, shall we?

Since it is a fresh new day, I thought I'd mention some new bloggers I've been reading and enjoying. Branching out a bit from the MommyBlog and the HomeschoolingMommyBlog style, we have a few ManBloggers who've begun posting - and I enjoy them thoroughly. There are also two homeschooled teens who have begun blogging, both of whom have given my future-weary spirit a boost. It's nice to see young women coming into the world with good heads on their shoulders, a fresh and honest perspective to the world, and some common sense. Check them out. I think they'll encourage you and make you smile.

First, there's Deliberate Wanderer. He's not a new blogger, by any means. He's probably been at it longer than I've known more than ctrl+alt+del. But he's funny, snarky, travels the North American continent making life better for the technologically impaired, and he shares his travels with us. He's also KathyJo's hubby, and their banter is priceless.

Then we have The Dude, at But seriously... Em's hubby (she's the one currently puking and begging for ice cream simultaneously over at Me and the Guys - major multitasking, there!) Father and techie extraordinaire. Don't trust the picture in the profile, though. He's not that furry. But he is funny. And he's a great dad, too!

Matt, husband to Amber at Rutabaga Dreams, also blogs at Vanderbrew. It's way over my head. I think, though, that the other computer guys might enjoy it. His title says, "Beer, Food, Code, Writing, Creativity, Life". There's a lot of code talk, and I mean that literally.


Farm Girl is the daughter of Jean in Wisc. (Of Shades of White fame) I've met this young lady, and she's the kind that makes you think, 'OK, I could really enjoy raising a daughter!' Articulate, enthusiastic, funny, and thoughtful. I haven't told Jean this yet, but we're sending Emily to Wisconsin for the Logic years. :-)

Going with the mother/daughter bloggers, we have another blogger at Hill of Beans. She's the daughter of our Theologian-in-Residence (and erstwhile biker chick) Kim at The Upward Call. Not only is Virginia a good writer, but she gives us a peek into the thinking process of a young woman standing at the door of adulthood, preparing to take the plunge. It doesn't look as scary as it did when I was in that doorway. Encouraging!

I've probably forgotten a few. It's been a weird week. But there's some good reading above, and that'll work for now. I am off to redirect, stay calm, prevent serious injuries, and try not to give myself a stroke. Can't have a stroke until James can drive me to the hospital. Simply can't.

Y'all have a glorious Tuesday, and kiss those babies!
~Dy

Back to Work! *hyah!*

(That's a whip-cracking sound, up there in the title, btw.)

It is absolutely gorgeous this morning. Since I awoke, the sky has turned from Deepest Black to myriad shades of blue, lavender, and yellow. Now it's working on hues of orange and red. I love waking before the sun.

Sadly, my quiet morning time has once again been foiled by the Small Ones With Radar. That wouldn't be so bad if Miss Emily and I hadn't been up, putting miles on the treadmill (aka - up and down the hallway) until well past one this morning. But we did. And it is. And I cannot in good conscience tell you that it's pleasant to be up with three children awake, hungry and rambunctuous, at six-thirty in the morning when you were up til one. They're still cute, and I still like 'em, but this isn't what I wrote in my schedule!

Today we're all on our own. Zorak is back at work, doing the dragon slaying so that we can keep this wonderful roof over our head. He's so tough. I don't imagine the last week was much fun for him - being thrown into the fray without a whole lot of training and preparation. The first few days were grueling, but by the weekend, he was on firmer ground and was such a help. I do appreciate that. And I appreciate that he supports me being here, doing this, all the time. I know I'm fortunate.

John is healing. Smidge is still carrying around the potty for no apparent reason. James is devouring a book that one of Zorak's dearest friends sent us (E.D. Hirsch's First Dictionary of Cultural Literacy - what a great resource!) Em is, finally, asleep. Ahh, the sweet sound of deep sleep! I don't know what's on our agenda today (and in light of the laundry-list issue, I wouldn't tell you if I knew - that'll have to wait 'til tonight so it's not a to-do list! hee hee), but I do think we'll pop outside to play between thundershowers if we can.

The school room should be set up the first of February, and then this space will return to its former status: occasionally mentioning the fact that we do, actually, and honestly, educate our children at home. Been a little sparse on the details there, lately, I know. Been a little sparse on the activity, too, though, so that would explain it.

We'll be doing science with birds, building bird feeders and learning to identify the locals. We'll be reviewing math to see how much has leaked out their ears while they've been knocking about the property. We'll gently start back in with the Pater Noster until I order Latin for Children for James. We'll be reading more again, telling stories and writing our lessons. Yep, everyone back to work. Cracking the whip and such, as it were. *wink*

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Lights

The lights in the hall glow through the bedroom doorway.

They go off.

They come back on.

From the hallway, I hear, "*chuckle* That's just fun."

Zorak, enjoying the fruits of another task well done.

The lights are off again...

A (thankfully) quiet day

Today was just blissfully normal.

The boys had cereal for breakfast. They played with the dog. They made spears and sheilds and staged an ambush that had me just rolling (I was the one who got ambushed). Balto, we discovered, is a natural-born tracker. The boys went to the creek after lunch and when their wee pup emerged from his nap, he started looking for them. He found a trail and sniffed his way to the path they take to the creek, then let out a little hop and started down the trail after them, nose sniffing, tail wagging. Good boy!

Zorak worked on cleaning the tool room. I cleared the boys' bedroom and pulled out a few winter shirts in a fairly more normal size.

For supper, we made roast teriyaki chicken with rice and brussel sprouts. The boys ate seconds. Then thirds. They're snuggled into bed now, and the fire is blazing in the stove. Emily is curled up in my lap, looking around and contemplating whatever quantum physics-related problems newborns contemplate. She looks very happy.

Thank you for the well-wishes for John. They cheered him tremendously. He is doing okay today, although he's far too active. The bandages haven't slowed him down a bit - this morning he took the dog for a walk and this afternoon he and James headed to the creek. Like I said before, quite a trooper. We changed his bandages and I felt a little queasy. The thumb is pretty swollen and raw. John was expecting a prettier picture, too, I think. He gasped and whispered, "Oh, mama! That looks bad!" *cringe* I know, sweetie, I know. Lots of snuggles today, all around.

We read bedtime stories. I cleared out a drawer for Emily's clothes and blankets. Zorak hung a little sheetrock in the hallway.

Like I said, blissfully normal. Significantly less interesting blogging material than a good old-fashioned emergency, I know. Still, every once in a while, it's nice to have nothing interesting to say. *grin*

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

I will not blog a to-do list... *updated to add: I didn't need to!*

This is what I started to post over coffee this morning... read on for the "real" post below that...

Oh, I really hate blogging in the morning. The whole day is stretched out in front of me, clean and unfettered like new stationery (one of my many addictions). I'm not feeling terribly contemplative, or creative. The coffee hasn't kicked in yet... and all I can usually pull off is a laundry list of things to get done for the day. Bet that's fun blogrunning, eh? But today, I am not going to do that.

The big news (and I think the only folks who will truly share in this joy are other women who've done this), I am back. in. drag. Yes! This morning I donned a pair of Zorak's jeans, and am dressed like your average country transvestite ready for a day of work! (Yes, *his* jeans. Because it will be another year before I can get into *mine*, but let's ignore that part, shall we? He's lean. It counts.) I'm not a frou-frou woman, by any stretch of the imagination, but I've gotta say it does feel good to don support garments and run a brush through my hair! Yup, nice way to start the day, that whole personal hygiene thing...

James had a dentist appointment this morning... at eight o'clock. This is the second one in two days that I scheduled at that hour. Proof that women that close to birthing should not be allowed out in public, eh? WHAT was I thinking? Anyhow, Zorak took him (after confirming that it wasn't going to be anything like John's extensive work yesterday - it's going to take a while for Zorak to recover from that) and then will keep him at work today. I've got the three Littles with me for the day.

Um, yeah, that was at nine o'clock this morning. I typed the above, then got up to get a cup of coffee, switch out a load of wash, and check on John and Smidge, who were outside playing in the yard. I got the coffee. Then I heard screaming. Wailing. Thumping and gnashing.

I bolted to the front door and opened it to see John standing at the door, blood-spattered and screaming. He was cradling his arm, and completely hysterical. I hauled him into the house and ushered him to the bathroom to rinse off the blood and ascertain the situation. Well, I'm not an "every little gash needs stitches" kind of Mom. I really believe a little scarring won't hurt, and for the most part you just band-aid the thing together and admonish the child not to move it or it'll scar. Done.

This was not one of those situations. I took one look, did a full-body shudder, wrapped the thumb in a towel and told him to load up, we're going to the hospital. Amidst trying to find a carseat for Em (Zorak has the pickup today, which has the other small carseat in it), grabbing diapers, insurance cards, and making phone calls, John relayed the story to me. Poor little guy was trying to split firewood and he got his thumb with the hatchet. All I could do was hug him and thank him for being upfront and honest. We'll deal with the other questions and issues when the blood congeals, ya know.

So, five long and hungry hours, one truly phenomenal physician, one cranky childless LPN and two great mom RNs later... we're home with five stitches and one mighty impressive dressing, as well as antibiotics and pain killers. I'm being good and staying out of the pain killers.

John was a total trooper. Brave. Honest. Attentive. I am so proud of him. He was terrified until the nerve block kicked in, then he was very matter-of-fact about the process. I asked if he wanted the doctor to give him webbed fingers while he was working and he said, "Honestly, Mom, I just want him to fix my thumb." Ah, well, can't blame ya for that!

Who needs a to-do list when you have children?

Kiss those babies! I'm going to snuggle my little lumberjack.
~Dy

Family Photos

We certainly have no trouble figuring out what to take pictures of at this house!



Smidge delights in keeping track of the "BEEbee!" He plops down anywhere, reaches out and says, "Me? My turn!" I think he's decided this new kid in the house thing is pretty nice. (And no, we haven't been out of our jammies for three days... why do you ask?)





James is awed. Reverential. In love. This is the baby he prayed for. When he was four and hoped for a sister, he wanted to name her, "Beautiful Girl that I Love So Much". I think it fits.



And John got his wish of being the first to hold here. Here he is the morning she was born. He was the first one up and into the room.



And as far as house photos go: here's a quick tour of the one semi-finished bedroom. In that last picture, with John, you can see our expandable insulating foam in the window frame, my lovely - yet unpainted - texture job on the wall, and the view - albeit skewed by the dirt in the window frame - of the back yard. Striped bedding by IKEA. Thank you. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

When Things Go So Well

Last night I heard from a dear, old friend whom I haven't heard from in a couple of years. He called to touch base and wish us well with Emily. While we were thrilled to hear from him, the phone call was bittersweet.

We have all of this joy in our lives to share -- the Forever Home, moving here to Alabama, the wonderful boys and all they've been up to, the fun we have, the happiness we enjoy, this sweet baby girl, Zorak's great job, and how much I love my life -- I could go on, but I cut myself short while talking with him.

Because, you see, things aren't so happy in his life. At all. Even the things that could be construed as potentially joyful bring no joy.

And it broke my heart.

I felt, suddenly, as if I was rubbing salt into an open wound with every positive thing that came out of my mouth. So I shut up and tried to think of neutral things, outside things, positive-in-his-life things. But there just wasn't anything. And it's not a case of him being a pessimist or a negative person. It's really that things just are not happy there. And they probably won't change. This is his life -- his family's life. It's not something I understand, or the lifestyle I would choose, but I know how it happens.

Still, it's sad. He is such a great guy, and has such a gentle spirit.

But he's not the only one. It seems lately that there is a lot of bitterness and sadness sprawling about the emotional countryside. And here I come, galumpfing through the hills with this goofy smile on my face, belting out songs from The Sound of Music (granted, they're squalled out off-key, but it's a robust noise, nonetheless), with the kids in tow (wearing old curtains and happy about it), and the dog carrying what's left of one of my slippers, and... Boy, talk about your not-so-graceful entrance.

How do you all handle it when things are really good for you, and not so much for your loved ones? What do you say when everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like you're channeling Pollyanna and she's drawing her nails down someone else's chalkboard? Is it possible to have a conversation where you can answer their inquiries without causing them sadness or pain?

I realized last night that it might sound like I'm really laying it on thick at times, and I'm not. We've worked darned hard to get where we are - in our relationship, our finances, our lifestyle - this didn't just magically come to us, it's been work, and the payoff is good. BUT, to someone who is so far from happy that even the beauty of a sunset may not be visible, this kind of joy probably seems painfully garish. And I just don't know how to gently tiptoe through those meadows. I'll keep trying. I don't want to cause loved ones pain at all, and while I cannot bring myself to feel guilty for all we have, I also am under no motivation to rub anybody's nose in anything. Ever.

SO. Awkward moment ensues. Everyone clears their throats. And then what do you say? Have you ever felt this way? Or have you ever been the one who wasn't in a happy spot? If so, how could your ridiculously happy friends handle it that would make it easier? Let you know that your presense is a part of that happiness. Let you know there's a place for you in their lives and that you're loved and noticed. Because you are, and even when you are not happy, you bring joy to their hearts and they love you. Trust me, I know.

Kiss those babies, and I wish you joy.
~Dy

Overheard and Observed Lately:

James:
When I stop singing to her, she starts meowing again.
*whispering* Oh, Mom... her ears are the size of candy!
Hey! I can reach all the way around you again!

John:
Babies are delicate, you know.
Wow - that's the whole baby! (Said during a diaper change - first time she was more than a head in a blanket.)
I think she needs to eat.

Smidge:
Ewwww... (pointing at some random body fluid)
Baby. Bed. Now. (Smidge carries a receiving blanket around, waiting to tuck her in the moment we lay her down.)
TOES! (Huge source of fascination!)

Zorak:
Huh? I'm up! I'm up! Are you okay? I'm up!

We're learning so many wonderful things.

For instance, did y'all know that when a little baby girl pees during a diaper change, you don't have to dodge or do a three-foot perimeter search for cleanup? That is very cool.

Bed Rest? Means. Nothing. when you have your fourth child. (Ah, well, I could dream, couldn't I?)

SweetPea gowns are darling, no matter what gender you put them on. Babies are just precious. Period. (We knew that, but it's fun to rediscover with each baby.)

Not being near family when you have a wee one is a little sad.

When the puppy doesn't see Mama for a couple of days, he gets a little spastic.

The capacity for people to share in joy and celebrate is breathtaking. (See the comments in Em's arrival post.) I am completely blown away by all of the wonderful comments and how y'all have joined us in welcoming Little Em to the family. *Thank You.*

And now it's time for me to sneak back to bed and kiss that baby!
~Dy