"How To" of the Day

It's starting to sink in. I'm outnumbered and surrounded. There's no escaping and no guarantee of reprieve in the future. The situation is what it is and I have to get used to it.


I'm the mother of three boys!


I've always wanted kids. In fact, growing up as the youngest of five kids (six when foster brother Ferlando lived with us) I compensated for not having a younger sibling by babysitting every chance I got. My life aspiration was to have 10 kids and own a daycare center. As I got older, the number of kids got lower and the daycare plans went out the window. While babysitting all five of my sister's kids for her one week, I started to wonder if I liked kids at all. (My mom had to reassure me that I did.)


Aside from that week, (and maybe one other babysitting my brother's six kids for him) there has never been a time I didn't want to be a full time mom for a living. (Which reminds me, I need to put in for a raise.)

That said, I never envisioned my home full of boys. If anything, I'm sure I planned for equal numbers of girls and boys (I'm anal like that) or figured the boys would be out numbered by girls--like in my house growing up. I just never figured I'd be the sole member of the minority party. (Is THIS how liberals feel in Utah??)


That is why lately I've been re-evaluating my parenting techniques and working on increasing my PATIENCE with--and understanding of--the male species!!! Here are a few things I'm coming to grips with:


To be a successful mother of sons you must: (and by "you" I mean "I")


Quit ogling (and sometimes buying for the future) tea sets, doll houses, and pink clothes every time you shop.


Learn to play with action figures. This means you have to think like a boy. Captain Jack and Will Turner want to FIGHT. They do NOT want to garden, have a tea party, or be nice Daddies who do the dishes. They want to dismember each other.


Quit hating sports. You have very athletic children and years of spectating before you. Just accept that your Saturday mornings will never ever be free ever again and invest in a good lawn chair and cooler.


Accept that your boys will come inside from playing completely filthy and smelling of wet dog. And furthermore, they will NOT stop digging in the dirt and will NEVER wipe their feet adequately before entering the house.


Potty words are here to stay. Just like the bodily functions they represent, they will never cease being a large part of your life.


Instead of being offended at being brutally stabbed, shot, and/or impaled in all pretend battles, be flattered that you were worthy enough to be chosen as an adversary.


Keep lots of Febreze Air Effects, Lysol Wipes, Hand Sanitizer, and snacks (for bribery and personal fortification) on-hand at all times.

Check the toilet seat before sitting down.

So far, that's all I've come up with. If you have any suggestions, comments, or tips, please let me know. I need all the help I can get.

What Faezer Has Done So Far...

She has:
Held Gabriel, gazed at Gabriel, bathed Gabriel, cooed at Gabriel, changed Gabriel, been peed upon by Gabriel, and then held Gabriel some more.

Finished "My Sister's Keeper" by Jodi Picoult which I got for her at the library, (it takes place in Providence and is an EXCELLENT book.) and has started "I Am A Mother" by Jane Clayson Johnson. (I just got this from my Mother-in-law, read it and loved it.)

Watched "Indiscreet" with Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman while ironing shirts for Doug. (Shirts that have never seen the hot side of an iron before, I might add.)

Mended a baby blanket and a pair of Maxwell's jammies.

Folded piles of laundry much to my chagrin and relief.

Read numerous books to Max and Sam, watched Max and Sam play, supervised Max and Sam painting, given Max rides to school, and stayed with Sam while I've given Max rides to school.

Eaten yummy food including a delectable dinner at "Iggy's Doughboys and Chowder House" by the beach.


On the agenda for the rest of her trip: More of the same PLUS a trip to Christmas Tree Shop's, (a New England must-see) a few visit's to Boston, more eating out, and I'm going to try to get her on the trampoline. I'll also try feebly to convince her to stop doing laundry. (Hopefully she won't agree to that last one.)

*sigh*

The last week and a half since Doug's mom left has been the longest of my life. Getting out of the house and into the car with three kids is not a job for sissy's.

(Especially when one kid is a prolific pooper and needs numerous diaper--and clothing--changes all right before leaving the house.) Max missed three days of school this week simply because I could not get four people ready to leave at the same time.

On Wednesday I was actually doing pretty well. I was organized, showered, and had all three boys clean, dressed and ready to go. Max and Gabriel had Dr. appointments and we were going to go there and then straight to preschool. Unfortunately, when I got to the door, my keys weren't on their hook. I checked my purse. No luck. I searched the whole house and car...still no joy. I had to call 3 minutes before my appointment and cancel due to brain loss. Too bad AAA doesn't hotwire cars.

The keys are still lost and I'm wondering if I threw them away.

Lucky for me, Fae has arrived just in time to save me from becoming a crazed, twitching lunatic unable to leave the house or even get out of bed. (Faezer is my most excellent mother, for those of you who haven't had the priviledge of meeting her.)

She got here Wednesday night and my life instantly got easier. Yesterday, I got to leave Sammers and Gabriel in the car while I dropped Max off at Preschool. Then, on the way home, Fae ran into the store for a gallon of milk while I stayed with the boys. Today when I took a shower, I didn't even worry about the screaming in the other room. I knew Fae would prevent any fatal injuries. Today I get to go to the grocery store ALL BY MYSELF!

Life doesn't get much better than that. (Well, maybe if Gabe were already sleeping through the night, but I wont press my luck...)

All I can say is, hooray for FAE!

Just Wondering...

Is it just me, or...
do commercials for depression medication make anyone else really really depressed?
("Where does depression hurt? EVERYWHERE! Who does depression hurt? EVERYONE!!!")

and is anyone else ever tempted to wipe down your messy kid with a Lysol Wipe?

(Doesn't it just seem like it would be more effective than a baby wipe?)

Just a few questions I've been pondering lately during the 12 or so hours I spend nursing each day. I wish I could say I've come up with the solution to global warming or something, but no...I spend my time pondering the wipe issue.

I've also decided that Gabriel has the most perfectly shaped baby ears ever . I spend lots of time staring at them, and I'm pretty darn sure of myself. If you don't agree, I defy you to prove me wrong with a picture of YOUR kids ears! (Don't bother...you'll just embarrass yourself and your kid.)

In the mean time, Sr. and sons are keeping busy in the yard. Doug has built some garden beds and the boys have helped him plant lots of veggie seeds.
It's kept them busy and gotten them all extremely dirty on a regular basis. Hence, the question of the Lysol Wipes.

Well, I need to feed baby now. And I have some important things to ponder. I'll let you know if I come up with anything brilliant.

But don't hold your breath...

Quotes and Miscommunications

From the Hospital:

Sam upon first meeting his new brother: (with considerable confusion and consternation.)
"He not talking to me!!!"

Nurse Murray when I explained I'd tried five times to wake up Gabe to nurse him:
"You can lead a baby to boobie, but you can't make him eat!" (I really liked Nurse Murray...she seemed extremely wise!)

While at the hospital there was considerable talk of my "Johnny". Not being able to decifer the nurses STRONG Rhode Island accents most of the time anyway, I just ignored them when they said things like "I'll bring you a new Johnny." or "We need to change your Johnny." (Afterall, they were constantly bringing me stuff and changing other stuff at the same time.) It wasn't until I got home that Doug told me they call Hospital Gowns "Johnny's". Who knew???

And you probably also didn't know that to get to the food room you have to "bang a right".

Gotta love it here!

Another Superstar in the Family

She's done it again! My friend Jen did an awesome photo shoot of Gabe yesterday. I'm so in love with these pictures! Check out her blog to see all of them. www.jenniferlee.typepad.com

Sunshiney Days

Doug's mom left early this morning.

At 9 a.m. I took Max to Kindergarten orientation and had to face the reality of my little boy starting real school in a few months.

This afternoon I finished my current book "New Moon" by Stephenie Meyer. (More about it later.)

I also realized that Doug's vacation is coming to an end and he'll be gone full-time again starting on Monday.

All of these things have combined to snap me back into reality a little too harshly. After the relaxing, worry-free week I've had, I'm feeling a severe sense of loss.



Luckily, I have a little something to ease the pain:



(Gabriel had a bit of jaundice so he's outside getting a little sunshine therapy in these pictures. This was before the Doctor told us, "Just don't put him in direct sunlight. Make sure it's filtered through a window." Don't worry...he didn't get sunburned.)

I should blog...

...but I'd rather just gaze.
I mean, wouldn't you if you had such a cute little angel to stare at???