Add on to Grocery Shopping.

As I said before, we pretty much cannot walk into a public place without the comment "are these all yours?" thrown out there at least once - and always right away. Its like a silent alarm goes off that only normal people with 2.5 kids can hear that says "crazy lady with 100 kids just walked in! Someone go make sure they all belong to her."

Yesterday was no exception. It was one of those times where I knew all day that I had to do it and so had plenty of time to mentally prepare. And threaten. Everyone knew what had to happen and we were like a machine...until Lydia stopped in just about every single aisle to take off her shoes and scratch her feet. I think we caused enough traffic jams to have a target on our backs by the end. You know how when you're grocery shopping, you run into the same people in every aisle as you work your way to the front? Well, we pretty much pissed off everyone in the store. I even saw someone turn around and go the other way when they saw us. At least no one was screaming.

One of the people that was shopping along with us was a man with his son in the cart. I didn't get a good look at the kid so I don't know how old he was (I had one eye on my kids and the other on my kids). At one point, as I was hauling gallons and gallons of milk into our cart, I looked up at the guy and saw the dreaded look of panic. The look that I know I get when I realize we're gonna have to leave the cart and go home only to start all over again the next day. Then I heard him say to his kid (in the paniced, please don't start screaming voice) "its gonna be ok, buddy. Just please don't freak out. We can do this! We're almost done." Part of  me felt so bad for him because I've been there and it sucks...but also part of me wanted to walk up to him, slap him in the face and say "pull it together, man!" I didn't though. I just ran away. With 100 kids right behind me.

The Doctor's Office

Oh, the joy of going to the Doc.

My kids call their doctor "the funniest doctor". His real name is Dr. Anderburg, but I don't think any of them know that. Every time we have to go, the kids get all excited. Same with the dentist, actually. The little weirdos...Anyway, its always an adventure for me. Six to one is pretty unfair numbers. Four to one is even pretty bad, but somehow we always survive it. In the past, I'd need a drink or two afterwards just to calm my nerves. Now that I don't drink I usually just scream into a pillow for 4 or 5 minutes when we get home. It works and no one gets hurt. Well, so far.

This morning's doctor's office adventure started the same as usual. It was just the four youngest but in a way that's worse because there's no one to hold the doors for me or grab a fleeing one year old every five seconds. We made it safely through the parking lot and through the first doorway before we heard the inevitable "are these all yours?" I have to refrain from telling people "no, I just bring extras for practice."

We made it to the room in the back without losing anyone, although at that point I'd almost thrown out my back two or three times trying to carry the always squirming and plotting Perrin in one arm and Fela in her 100 lb carseat in the other. Rowan and Fela were being seen, so we went through all the preliminary undressing and weighing and peeing on Mommy. Ro was excited, as always. Even when he knew he was getting shots. He assured me and the nurse that he likes shots. That was a red flag right there, but I think I'd rather them find out it hurts after they're on the table and all escape routes are blocked. I learned from Marek that a kid trying to avoid a shot is stronger than me and will give me bruises before we can finally hold him down long enough to shoot him up.

In the end, Rowan and Fela both screamed like banshees while giving me an evil look which I took to mean "what the hell have you done?" and "you're gonna pay for this." Yeah, yeah. After their shots, Lydia saw that the attention had shifted far from her, so she insisted on getting bandaids. Loudly. Perrin spent most of the time that my attention was elsewhere, lunging from one chair to another. I told him he was gonna fall on his head, which he eventually did. I said "I told you so," and then he got right back up and did it again. Whatever. I'm pretty sure he's already got brain damage anyway.

After all that it took another 15 minutes to pull everything together and actually leave the room and head to the check out. Fela was pissed, still is in fact. She added a new octave to her crying today. I hope she's not storing it away in her memory for when she gets older and learns from Lydia how to act mad at me. Which, by the way is Lyd's new favoite thing to say to everyone. I'm afraid to take her to church because I can just imagine her walking up to the priest and saying "I'm mad at you, Fr. Ed." She does that to Rowan. Just randomly walks up to him and says loudly "I'm mad at you Ro-Ro!" He looks up at her for a second and then continues on with whatever he was doing. He knows she's insane, I think.

So, that was today. I'm done with it.

Perrin and his weapons.

Out of all my kids, Perrin is definatly the most violent. Even his tantrums are epic. And this is compared to
Lydia, which is sayin something. But he's also the quickest to laugh and he's happy a lot of the time...especially when the other kids are gone. This past summer, the older kids spent a week with Nate's parents in Saginaw and Perrin was the only one home. I was afraid he'd be bored and crabby but, nope. He loved every minute of it. And when they got home I thought he'd be excited but he just got mad at them for playing with "his" toys.

We have some toy swords in our house. Just after Fela was born, I'd sit on the couch to nurse her. And when he saw me trapped there, he'd go find a sword and then stand next to me and hit me with it over and over again. Good thing those things are foam.

I bought Lydia a sparkly baton but had to return it the next day because Perrin used it to bash her over the head with every chance he got.

The kids are pretty tolerant of Perrin. I think because he's willing to jump in the pile and wrestle with them without crying over a few bruises - which he's always covered with. In fact, when he was born his face was completly swollen and black and blue...I should have known it was an omen of things to come. The kid almost always has a black eye. Unfortunatly, the kids tolerance of him in a wrestling match has made him pretty bold. Lately, he'll go running after the other kids, laughing like a maniac with his mouth wide open, tackle them, and then try like hell to bite something off. And all the kids think its halarious. Until they eventually get bit, of course, then they come crying to me. If they can get away from him.

So, latley I just hand a foam sword to the kid he's attacking and hope they have the skills to fend him off. We're all getting pretty good at it, actually.

Rowan's love for me/Advent

I'm ashamed to admit that we've never done a Jesse Tree with our kids for Advent. I think they would really like it and love all the Bible stories that goes with it. We've also never had an Advent wreath. Until now, actually. Raina made a cardboard one in school and even though we can't light the candles, its sitting in the middle of the table. Hopefully no one desides to light one, that could be interesting.

Anyway, I decided this year to start reading the Bible stories and saying the prayers at dinner. Just now, actually so I'll have to give Nate the heads up when he gets home. So, tonight I said the prayers. Then I called my mom to see if she had her list of Bible passages handy. Well, why wouldn't she? It is Advent after all. She didn't answer...sooooo, we talked about the song "Oh Come Oh Come Emmanuel". The kids said they're learning it in school so I tried to get them to sing it with me. I got a very emphatic NO. Well, I'm not one to give up easily, so I started siging it to them by myself. My voice is decent, not great I guess but I can hold a tune. I almost got through the first verse when Rowan interupted me. "Mommy," he says "can you please stop singing that song, its annoying."
I admit I laughed out loud while my kids looked on with worried faces. (Remember Mean Mommy Elephant?) I'm not giving up, either. Those kids are gonna be singing with me by the end of Advent, damn it. And Rowan's getting a solo.

Thanks-freakin-giving.

I think that in general, I'm a fan of this holiday. We get to eat all day, sleep for awhile while the kids run wild, then eat some more. So, hooray for Thanksgiving.

Just a word, though. Last year to the day was the last time I saw Sam. He was excited to be moving into his new apartment with Kat and I remember being really happy for him. He'd been working hard to save $ to get a place and I was impressed, even though he did complain about always working and never sleeping everytime I saw him. I think it was a bit of a brag though, to be honest. He was tough and not afraid to remind me when I saw him.

And that is what I remember about him. He was tough, but he was a softy just as well. He'd talk about missions in Iraq like they were a day at the office and laugh, then have to give everyone a bear hug before he left. And he had every one of our backs. All the time.

So, today I'm gonna go eat turkey and have a nice time. I don't think I need to say anymore about Sam. Love you, Sam.

Marek

In honor of Marek's 8th birthday, I'll tell a short story about him. Out of the thousands that I could tell, I'll tell my favorite one because I think it shows his true self:

A few years ago when we still lived in Saginaw I was shopping with the kids. I think at the time I had Marek, Raina and Rowan. We were in a store that children should be banned from because of all the oh so tempting to touch and oh so breakable stuff. They did alright though and at the end I let them all choose something small that I would buy for them. Marek had been watching me the whole time, looking at the things that I was looking at. So, when I told him he could choose something, he started looking through some rings I'd been looking at. Why the hell a little boy wants a ring, I could not figure out, but I didn't say anything. At one point he asked me which I liked best, the turtle or another one. He loved turtles at the time, so I picked the turtle. I knew there was no way he'd not pick the turtle. But, I was curious...

(A little fun fact about Marek: when he asks me to choose which one I like best, I do, and then he picks the opposite one. EVERY time.)

He picked the turtle. We bought our stuff and left the store. As we walked out, I handed the kids their loot telling them good job on the good behavior. Marek took his for one second and then handed it right back saying, "I picked this for you Mommy." Aww, what a sweet boy who I love so much.

I have a trick I use to get my kids to sit calmly in the car and wait for me when I need to jump out really quick for something. Mostly its for when I need to run into the gas station or the school or something like that. Pretty much anywhere that will take under 7 minutes, give or take. Getting them all in and out will always add an hour. Anyway, its very simple. I pick the one or two that look like they're gonna start screaming and tell them that they're in charge. Then I jump out of the car and take off. I think it works about half the time.

Grocery Shopping

I need to go grocery shopping. I've needed to all week and its absolutly the last freakin thing I want to do. Here's why: I'm afraid of Lydia. Ok, not so much of Lydia herself but how she will act and what that will provoke out of me. I can sit back and watch a tantrum calmly for hours while inwardly freaking out and planning ways to get my child back when they're teenagers. But, if I have a shopping list and 4-6 little kids to help me with it, I can be tempted to yell. Or just leave a kid in the store. I'd come back, of course...I would, really. Anyway, back to the yelling...when Marek was 5 he told Nate's sisters that I'm the mean mommy elephant (that was a rough week). I've learned a lot about self-control since then, but I think Mean Mommy Elephant is still hiding in there waiting for shopping trips with kids strapped to her back and others screaming at me and throwing themselves down in the middle of an asile. And even I'm a little afraid.

So, grocery shopping is still on the table, but Playhouse Disney cuddled up in mommy's bed sounds way better. Too bad I'm starving.

Raina

I locked myself out of the house this morning while taking the trash out and I'm pretty sure that Raina would have left me out there if she was the only one home. The reason I know this is Rowan was all the way in the living room and Raina was sitting right there by the door. Ro was the one who eventually opened it.

Oh, Raina. What a loving soul.

Yesterday was her day to take snack to school. She forgot it on the kitchen table and I knew she would be totally crushed if I didn't bring it to her. So I dressed myself and most of the kids, usually one escapes me, and rushed all the way to the other side of town to drop it off in time for snack. When I picked her up, the only thing she had to say about the snack was, "can I eat the leftovers?" (I think I forgot to mention that a very large portion of her day, everyday is spent either asking for or eating food). So, I asked her if she'd forgotten something important that morning and if it had made it to school anyway. She couldn't think of a single thing. I should have just left it, but I'm an idiot and just couldn't. I really wanted my 5 year old child to recognize my hard work and unconditional love. Finally, I just told her that her siblings and I brought the damn snack all the way to school for her (I didn't say damn, but at this point I really wanted to). Her smart-ass relpy? "Well, Mommy you should have reminded me to take it in the first place." And so I left her on the side of the road...

And now I'm going to go give my kids candy corn so they stop screaming at each other. Thanks again, Meg (and this time I mean it).

I've thought about writing a blog for awhile. Mostly for myself because I like to write but also so that I have documentation of my kid's younger years and all the crazy shit they do. I have six of them from just under 8 years to two weeks old. That may sound like a lot and it certanly is close together, but as I've always said: I'm breeding slaves. And if I have enough of them, at least one should be willing to take care of me and Nate when we get old. I realize there's a lot of hard work to be put in right now if they're gonna make good cheap labor and then, like us enough later on to be willing to take us in. So for now, my fingers are crossed. It could go either way.
I think I should give an idea of what I've got to work with.
Our oldest, Marek. Basically a perfect clone of Nate. On weekends they stay up late together, long after I've crashed (I usually last until about 8pm) playing video games. Sometimes I hear them laughing and cheering - or politly swearing from upstairs. In case you don't know, politly swearing is words like "dang it" which Marek informed me just yesterday is a swear word but only if you say it too many times...Anyway, Marek is a good big broher too. He plays with his siblings and breaks up their fights and always wrestles gently so Rowan can join in. For the record, Rowan is not a pansy. He's just 6 times smaller than everyone else, so he's fragile. I think one of my favorit things about Marek is that he's very honest...let me rephrase that, he's honest unless its admitting to some offense he's commited. Then he can lie like a champ. The honesty that I admire is his ability to tell me w/o fear that I'm being a crabby witch. Example: recently, I was actually trying to apologize to Raina for yelling and I said "it's just that I'm..." and I was gonna say tired but before it could come out of my mouth Marek said matter-or-factly: "crabby". The little sh%#...
Anyway, moving on to Raina. Raina cried for the first 3 years of her life and to this day wakes up all night long, or doesn't even sleep for all I know. She used to wake me up each time with some excuse like, I have to pee, but that gets suspicious after being said every 5 minutes for 3 hours. So she eventually learned to just leave me alone and I would do the same for her. Raina is actually very sweet and affectionate despite all the crying and she makes friends everywhere she goes. She doesn't really like Ro for some reason, though so she's mean to him. I think its cause he showed up with his adorable, huge head and took away her cutest baby status. She may never recover.
Rowan is the perfect example of a middle child. He's turning 4 in a few months and until about last week he "absolutly could not" dress himself, wipe his butt, blow on his own food if its too hot (we do it together now), or sleep in his own bed all night. He'd end up on our floor. And how did he get away with all of this? Well, he's one of the cutest kids I've ever seen. Now, I have 6 kids and I love them all equally and find them all equally attractive. The difference, though between Rowan and the others is his ability to use his cuteness to his advantage which somehow he's been capable of since birth. In my family growing up, we always called my brother Mark the favorite (another middle child) and now I see why we thought that. He played the cards to his advantage. Its amazing what you learn when you have a million kids of your own.
That brings us to Lydia. Little Lyd came out smiling and seriously didn't stop (even when startled awake) until about 6 months old. Then she started screaming....we're working on it. I swear, when she snapped I really thought something was wrong with her. We even went to the damn doctor, who of course laughed at me. Here is an example if the insanity. Lyd loves purses. When she discovered them, she could spend hours opening and closing the zippers while sometimes switching the contents and sometimes just talking to them. About every other time she opened her damn purse, she couldn't get it closed again. And so she would scream at the top of her lungs while banging the purse (and all its sometimes fragile contents) on whatever hard surface was close by. As soon as she got it closed, her face would light up with a smile and she'd announce to everyone her accomplishment. I learned to sit back and enjoy the show. I think thats all I need to say about Lydia.
Perrin. He loves to dance and he's a pretty happy guy. But watch out because he's got a hell of an arm. His joy in life, besides stealing from Lydia, is throwing whatever he gets his hands on as hard as he can. I'm not sure about his aim though because the other day he was happily throwing a crayon that went behind him every time. When it finally went the right way: frontwards, he screamed in anger and went to find something else to do.
So, finally little Fela. So far at 2 weeks old we're just waitng to see what we've got. She does poop a lot. That's something.
So, thats my family, besides my husband Nate who I think is a pretty cool guy. We're great friends except when I'm emoitional from too little sleep or having/nursing/caring for a baby....one day we'll get to hang out again. Untill then we have 6 insane but lovely kids to keep us busy....
God, I miss Happy Hour.