Primer Tonight

OK, as exciting as this is, yes, I'd rather be saying "Prime Rib tonight", but alas, I'll take what I can get.

The boys' room is textured. I'm signing off here to finish the outlets and ceiling fan as soon as I blog this (because I'm really excited and the boys just. don't. care. anymore. - but I had to tell someone!)

Zorak can hang the ceiling fan and connect the wires in the attic tonight!

The Very Nice Carpet Lady comes tomorrow to give us a firm quote and arrange installation dates. (I'm tellin' ya - be nice to my kids, say kind things about them, and cough up the quarters for them to have a candy from your parent-trap machine by the door before we leave, and I'm buying something from you!)

And then I can get them OUT of the school room! And bring up *maniacal laughter* BOOKSHELVES, and BOOKS to put on them! And we can start eyeballing the walls in that room, deciding textures and paints for it! And did I mention they'll be OUT OF THERE?

Alright, those who know me know that it isn't about having a school room. And it's only partly about having the bookshelves up and out of the basement (although that's a pretty big Partly...) But my true joy is in knowing that one day soon I can make coffee in the morning IN PEACE! Zorak can stoke the fire without assistance at six in the morning! Why will this blessing be bestowed upon us?

Because they will no longer be camped in the adjacent space! They will no longer know that I am up. Oh, sure, they may still sense it, but they cannot prove it without getting up and out from under their warm covers, and plodding down the hallway (why did we show them the lights in the hallway are working now???) to verify that we are up. No more will they hear the world's noisiest faucet filling my coffee pot, and ascertain that The Breakfast Fixer is, indeed, up and about by merely opening one eye and peering from beneath the covers.

So. We may get a few mornings of quiet mumbling and grunting over coffee before Zorak leaves for work.

Don't get me wrong. I do love my children. I love their enthusiasm and energy. It's just that I can appreciate it a bit more when I've had a moment to compose myself, pee in private, and suck down a cup o' decaf whilst pretending it's triple espresso with white chocolate and whipped cream. Really.

Ok, I'm off to finish working!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

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