We asked God for 3..He heard "3 more" (be careful what you ask for)

Pamper Me, Pamper You - Boys are People Too.

2012-05-20T23:56:00.001-04:00

I am beyond thrilled to announce my trio are being inducted into the National Junior Honor Society - again. See post LAST year when they were inducted into the NJHS. At their previous school, students were selected at the end of 7th grade. We have the certificates and cords and pins from that lovely candlelight ceremony. It was nice.

Evidently their new school does not induct until the end of 8th grade. According to the website of this national organization, membership is able to be moved from one charter to another and charters are to accept transferring students. If they do not meet the criteria, such as 8th grade inductees as opposed to 7th grade inductees, they are to be "inactive" members until they meet that particular criteria. I think that makes perfect sense. But who am I.

Although I have highlighted this information and shared it with their school representatives, they have dismissed my point of view and required them to fill out the application - AGAIN. Thankfully, they were selected - AGAIN. (I definitely made my views known that they HAD BETTER BE) They get to be inducted - AGAIN and we get to attend the ceremony - AGAIN. I don't really mind because I am always happy to be supportive and I'm proud of their dedication and hard work. I think it's nice they will be recognized among their peers. I am not thrilled with having to pay another $30 for duplicate pins.

On to the topic at hand, pampering.

Since we do have this little ceremony looming in our near future, my children, specifically my boys, were appearing a mite shaggy. Actually they were really, really shaggy.

Since moving here, Mike has taken the boys to the barber he visits - the $6.00 barber that is a step above the $5.00 barber school we visited when we first hit Utah soil. But Mike had to work Saturday morning and I didn't feel like driving all the way downtown to the $6.00 barber and every weekday afternoon is filled with baseball and homework - so the boys talked me into visiting a local "sports" cut establishment. After all, they have friends that go there and highly recommended it. You the word of a 14 year old boy is like gold.
This place is a little more costly, but upon learning we were new customers, we were eligible for their special new customer deal. The boys got the "works" for the price of the "standard".

I have no idea why my boys have such serious looks, bordering on scowls even, when they get haircuts. They've always been like this.

This place provided a few little extras they've never had before.

Tea tree shampoo with aroma therapy hot oil conditioners ....

Towels gently warmed and a scalp massage......

Doesn't he look relaxed.... sort of a zen like state.

Followed with styling, and a neck and shoulder massage.

Notice the smile is re-appearing as the neck and shoulders are relaxed.

They cleaned up really nice. But I think Mom is in need of some pampering too.

Soon, I hope. Very soon.

Two Years into the Teen Thing Now - How Amazing

2012-05-20T00:30:00.000-04:00

I missed the actually date posting this, but I need to get this done. Not only do I have 3 teenagers, these teeny tiny preemie teens are a couple of years into it - unbelievable. Of course until this past April, technically I had 4 teenagers since Matthew JUST reached the ripe old age of 20.

As I dig into the recesses of my memory, the day these children came into this world is a day I will never forget, even should I live to be 100. We had struggled through 13 years of infertility, numerous surgeries and procedures, some sad losses, and were given a less than 5% chance of a pregnancy resulting in ONE baby.

Once I amazingly became pregnant, and more amazingly we went beyond 6-8 weeks, suffering with weight loss from hypermesis, heading in to the 2nd trimester, I contracted a very severe case of the flu. It was so severe I was hospitalized. I had 2 cracked ribs from coughing so much. It was not a pleasant time AT ALL.

At 26 weeks, I was again admitted with preterm labor. Magnesium sulfate became my new best friend - NOT! Nasty nasty stuff, but effective. After a long week, I returned home only to go back a few weeks later, around 31 weeks, and was there for the duration.

Right around 34 weeks, pre-eclamsia reared it's head and it was the end of the line for this pregnancy - the one that wasn't supposed to happen.

Early Sunday morning, 5:36, 5:37, and 5:38, weighing 4.1, 4.3, and 3.8 - on Mother's Day morning, my sweet B B G made their appearance. Tiny, healthy, feeders and growers who came home at 13 days (baby B), and 19 days (babies A & C) - and miraculously changed our lives for the better.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my BABIES.

I LOVE YOU - to the moon and back.

Heavy Hitters Hitting the Ball

2012-05-15T22:26:00.000-04:00

We have morphed from the season of endless hoops to rounding the diamond. I love it!

My boys are so accustomed to playing with each other, they make the perfect left handed pitcher, right handed catcher duo.

It's fun to watch someone you love doing something they love ♥

We are about 1\2 way through the season.

They may be "big" boys, but they were so happy to have jerseys like a real team instead of simply tee shirts. It's the little things that are important. They are both looking forward to the day they might actually have their names on the back of their jerseys, although I pointed out they will have the same names. "So we will have to have a 1st initial too." Shirts are borrowed from the high school team so we do have to give them back at the end of the season. They got to request their numbers and initially there was drama because someone else dared to latch onto #33, the valued and much loved number belonging to Jason Varitek, who I think is now retired anyway. But my catcher #30, got over it since evidently the #33 jersey was a smaller size and we all know size matters.

This awesome photo above is from the first game (as is the one below), and although his face is hidden, there is a huge smile forming because the ball is G.O.N.E - as in a home run. It must be a nice feeling to just leisurely lob around those bases. This was the first home run of the season for our team. The second home run followed a few batters later as son # 2 (who is actually son #1 in the ABC birth order but is son #2 in the batting order) knocked it out of the park as well.

I was so glad I had my camera with me, and although my children all love to cringe and moan and lament my obsession with taking their pictures, rolling their eyes and complaining for the world to hear, they were glad these images were captured for all eternity.

As I walked back to my chair, I was asked "what are you feeding those boys". As my son #2 put it later that evening -"I am glad to be here playing ball in Utah because they didn't see me play before and now they all think I am a power hitter.". Vanity much? A few games later, ball player son #2 hit another homer. Lest you become too impressed that he leads the league with his TWO home runs, those are his only home runs career wise to date as well. Son ball player #1 is anxious to up his stats but so far he's been close, but no cigar. A friendly case of healthy sibling competition.

So I guess there is something to be said for moving and leaving your history behind you.

Our 2 older boys, the ones I am not supposed to mention, played baseball - one season each. Neither cared for the sport. We have always had the rule of "you start the season, you finish the season". And they did. Matt also played soccer for many years up until 7th grade and then decided it was no longer cool, even though he was very good. Both Matt and James did karate for several years too. My girl played tee ball along with her brothers (yesterday I think, or so it seems), in her french braided pigtails with red ribbons to match her uniform, then she played softball for another year, but her heart wasn't in as her thrill is in dance.

Baseball becomes much more competitive as they get older. It's no longer always fair or equal as far as playing time. I suppose it prepares them for the real world, but it can be tough on the parents.

Mike played ball all through little league on into pony league and junior high and then later high school. He also played in college - a pitcher. Truthfully he lost a lot of momentum after his dad was killed, his junior year in high school. I can certainly understand that. He loves watching his boys play.

Believe it or not, I played softball A LOT - all though junior and high school, but not on school teams as we didn't have such a thing. I played intramurals in college and city leagues in my 20's and Mike and I played coed softball up until Matt was a baby - then life and chasing kids and age caught up to me. It happens.

You know, I actually hit a home run once. I was always a good hitter and could be counted on to get on base, but speed was not my best feature. Short legs do that. My boys are tall. I still remember my home run though. I was 6th or 7th grade. It was at the YMCA team girls league back in Houston. It was the ONLY game that neither of my parents were in the stands. My mom with all her illness, didn't attend many of my games, but my dad always tried to make it for at least part of the game. I can still see him sitting on the bleachers, cheering me on, usually arriving halfway during the game because the insurance business was not a 9-5 job - more like 8am - way past dark.

No matter how old we get, we still value having someone cheer us on. And we remember. I hope my kids do recall their first cheerleaders. Baseball - America's game.

Catch Up - misc - Spring is Here

2012-05-08T23:50:00.001-04:00

I need to catch up with the last month. Baseball has started and is in full swing, occupying most of our spare time. LOVE. IT!

But I want to post a few pics that I have so I have them for posterity. My laptop recently died and upon Mike repairing it (thank you honey - so glad it works again since I can't get a new one budget wise), ALL of my photos from the past few years are gone, kaput, adios amigo. I am so sad. I did have a few backed up on an external hard drive, but the majority, no. So at least I have a few on my blog. Which reminds me - who has made their blog into a book of some sort - like a photo album. Is there such a thing.

He was so pleased to see the west embraces the east, for a price of course.

I was hoping I still had my Easter pics as well and I do - a few. I had not planned to color Easter eggs since we are "a little old" for that. Evidently, we aren't - and I'm glad. About 10 pm Saturday night they mentioned it. So we did a dozen. Life events are so much easier as they get older. All I have to do is set back and watch, with very little instruction. I can remember dying eggs and being worn out when we were done, trying to keep up with eggs and six little hands and dye - well, you get the picture.

I sure miss my babies, but I love having sweet big kids too.

Although eggs were not on the original agenda, I still enjoy fixing up Easter baskets for them. (the older two, who I am not supposed to mention, get a little spending cash)

Even though the baskets look unequal, believe me the goodies and treats are equitable. Good things come in small packages, you know. I can personally attest to 3 small things that are terrific.

We have long passed the day of plastic eggs and goldfish crackers, bubbles and playdoh and sidewalk chalk and hot wheels. It took me MANY years to realize the evil of Easter grass. It looks so cute in the baskets, but serves no purpose other than to make a mess for many weeks to come. I had not intended to do any type of stuffed toy, but I happened by a "buy 2, get 1 free sale" and they happened to be SO appropriate - birth order, boy, green\yellow color, no glasses, a little smaller - boy, blue, taller, glasses - and pink\purple girl with glasses. It was fate.

Baskets were from a local thrift store so they didn't match, filled with socks and underwear because the Easter bunny is practical like that. Also, a frisbee, nerf basketball, books, sandals, ONE chocolate bunny (tradition), water bottles, and assorted hair thingies. The other tradition is color coordinated Peeps. The multiple mama in us may fade, but it never truly disappears.

Mike worked Easter, like he does every other Sunday, so the kids and I went to church, then I cooked dinner and we had our Easter dinner later Sunday evening.

Thanks for sticking with me - baseball posts to come.

City Creek Spring Break Oh My It's Huge! PART 1

2012-04-08T18:09:00.001-04:00

This past week was Spring break around these parts. While growing up in Texas, we always had Easter break,.... well, around Easter. In New England, my kids always had a week of February vacation and then later in the Spring, Spring break. I know it is because of the harsh winter and the snow days, etc (but not this year) that they got the two breaks. They have sorely missed having that winter break and were ready for a week off.

We are still in the midst of financial re-adjustment of the cost of the move, having to pay rent AND a mortgage, going from two incomes to one, and the expenses related to Mike's mom's death, all within a five month period - and throw Christmas in the mix too - therefore no excess funds for anything special, sadly. How I would LOVE to take them on a weeks vacation somewhere sunny and warm and fun. Sigh, maybe next year.
Plus I told the kids they needed to complete their assignments from school and clean their rooms and catch up on ALL their laundry before we even considered doing anything fun this week. Along about Wednesday, mommy guilt reared it's ugly head and I felt they were indeed deserving of a little something special. They are good kids, good students and for the most part, they complain very little and go with the flow.

There is a brand new mall in Salt Lake that opened two weeks ago. City Creek Center is a new mall venture, funded by the LDS church, being a $1.5 billion venture of over 20 acres, designed to revitalize the downtown Salt Lake area and to keep the properties surrounding the church's world headquarters at Temple Square economically vibrant. I would say they've hit their mark. It also features a retractable roof, making it a year round attraction.

I didn't tell them where we were heading and after they all three got up at the crack of noon and had a bowl of cereal, we made our way to downtown Salt Lake.

I did tell them to wear jackets and comfortable shoes. Not everyone listens to me and oh well, you learn consequences when you don't listen. At least she changed from her heeled sandals.

Growing up in the big metropolitan city of Houston, even if it was the suburbs, and having lived West Coast (L.A.) and East Coast (Boston), I tend to forget my experiences are not their experiences and they are really small town kids. We would go to the local mall in MA, which consisted of a Sears and Macy's with about 30 stores in between, if you count all the kiosks and such. Sometimes we ventured to a bigger mall several towns over, but really very seldom. Maybe a half a dozen times total in their 13 years. Because truthfully, taking triplets, whether babies or toddlers or children to ANY large crowded place is not fun. Babies = sideshow and a million questions, including strangers wanting to take pictures of them. Those necessary but attention screaming triple strollers and choo choo wagons just beg attention, wanted or not. Toddlers = .... need I explain that one? And younger kids have very little interest in any type of shopping outside of ToysRUs.

So initially the mall announcement did little to excite them. Their tune changed rather quickly though. It is an impressive place.

This was the view from the bridge that you walked over the street to get to the other side of the mall. See the LDS Temple - impressive.

I told each that had UP TO $20 to spend on what ever they wanted, within reason. You always have to add "within reason" when dealing with kids. That tidbit lit them up even more. Of course, they soon realized $20 didn't go far.

Hint for new parents: "Within reason" bears a lot of veto weight. Just like "we'll see what tomorrow brings" gives a lot of leeway for future promised activities. Those lines have both held me well for 25+ years now.

Amazingly, the kids ran into friends from school as well as friends from youth group.

These Salt Lake kids were probably not as impressed as my kids, but what teen doesn't love a mall.

More to follow next post.

Let's Go to School

2012-03-29T01:48:00.000-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, I made an announcement to my children. "Kids, I got an email from your school. Parent Day is coming up and I get the chance to spend the day with you at school, go to your classes, have lunch with you, hang out for the day! Please write down your schedules so we can plan which classes I can attend".
..... SILENCE.....
I wish I'd had my camera ready to catch their ~~horrified &shocked~~ joyous expressions. Back in MA, their school, while smaller and part of a smaller community, was VERY closed. As in on constant lock down - ring the doorbell, wait wait wait until the secretaries viewed you through their secret security cameras, and if deemed trustworthy, they would "ring" you in and you went straight to the office, do not pass go do not collect $200, to state your business. I once made the mistake of peeking in the cafeteria at lunch time while on my way out of the building after bringing a forgotten folder and motioning to my child to come to the door. It did not escape the vigilant and watchful eyes of the cafeteria ~~wardens~~ security staff. I was quickly escorted out.

I say this in jest because while I do appreciate the safety precautions and I sadly realize the world we live in is not a safe cozy place, I always thought it was a bit overkill for a small town - where the school secretary was my neighbor and obviously knew us, yet we were still treated as a stranger. Plus I had worked in the school district for a few years as well as being a parent of 5 children in the district. And being the only triplets in our small town and in our school district, folks knew us even when we didn't necessarily know them. Also Mike coached baseball and basketball, and before that soccer - so even if someone didn't specifically know my name, I was either the coaches wife, the triplets' mom, or Matt's mom (hmmm - maybe we shouldn't go there - just kidding Matt if you're reading this - love you).

Upon arriving in Utah and enrolling my children, I found that not all areas of the country are equal. There are some a bit more lax - hence the thought of actually allowing the parents IN the school building without a staff escort. Imagine being able to be in the school WITH your children for a day. I was giddy over the prospect. My enthusiasm was not contagious. At least not on the surface. The three have great poker faces.

I didn't attend the entire day. Having three students in the same grade, taking many of the same classes - honors classes I might add - such a proud mama - I was able to kill three birds with one stone. I did however, attend honors Language Arts twice, back to back, discussing the death penalty and debating the merits of just cause and mental illness as a defense.

I found it interesting and coincidental, that while my daughter has Language Arts immediately before her brothers do, she and one of her brothers happen to sit in the exact same seat (not assigned) and when instructed to chose one of the five topics, she and her same brother chose the same topic concerning the study of mental illness awareness, which was not necessarily the "popular" one (most everyone else had a penchant for the death penalty - a bit dark, huh).

After two classes of Language Arts, my next stop was Honors Science. I know I am old, but it was strange to see a young ~~14, 16 at max~~, teacher hop up on the desk, in her jeans and t-shirt, and give instruction, legs crossed - criss cross applesauce - on group design of a parachute device to launch an egg from the 2nd story and have a safe descent to the ground, using only the basic pieces of allowed equipment. I always had OLD teachers - in skirts and dresses and suits and ties - and none of them ever hopped, that I can recall.

After science, it was time for lunch. The kids fought and squabbled over who I would ~~wouldn't~~ sit with, since the boys and their sister like to pretend they do not know each other while in school so they do not sit near one another in the lunchroom. My kids DID eat the nutritious home packed lunch, thankyouverymuch, then my one boy promptly got in the lunch line to get pizza too. Sigh - at least he ate what was packed first.

From what I observed, the kids were mostly well behaved and respectful and engaged. There were a few parents in each of the classes which was nice to see, but probably not as many as the school would hope would attend.

One of my boys was a little more camera shy (humiliated) than the other two, but as I was on my way home, he texted me to apologize which I thought was really nice of him, and I assured him I totally understood and no apology was necessary. After all, at 13, when your mom comes to school with you, AND brings a camera, even if she is very discreet, it can cramp your style I guess.

That's another HUGE difference. Old school - backpacks had to stay in your locker and you could get things between class. New school - I don't think my kids even know where there lockers are. Old school, phones had to be turned off and kept in locker during school hours, or confiscated and returned only if the parent comes to the school and retrieves them from the assistant principal (cough cough, Matthew, cough cough). New school - kids can keep their phones as long as there is no disruption.

I vividly remember two particular times my mother ever came to my school for "observation day". The first I was about 4th grade, and she came during Spanish. I can still see her standing in the back of the room in a sleeveless yellow and white striped shirt dress (the height of late 60's fashion) and she looked so pretty. I was so happy and proud she was there. The other time was 7th grade and she came during gym and watched a volleyball game in which I served the ball so badly I was ready to burst into tears over the humiliation. I wanted to be awesome.

I really really think my kids were happy and pleased I was there. They seemed a tiny disappointed I left after lunch, but all that was remaining was office aide and gym and yoga and homeroom, and a repeat of the egg parachute drop class.

I have great kids.

Tap tap - is this thing on?

2012-03-24T03:47:00.000-04:00

Please don't pass out. I am updating my blog. How miraculous.

I didn't intend to take such a long break. I just get, well, caught up in life - and a little depressed - and a lot stressed. Then I start to think who cares whether I update it or not. It can't be all that interesting. Yes, my trio is wonderful and the lights of my life, but they are not sweet infants with new parents navigating the unknown waters of parenthood. Nor are they troublesome toddlers whose antics of mischief give us all a chuckle. They aren't even elementary age dealing with playground bullies and conquering double digit division. That is the stuff of mommy blogs.

My recipes are not awe inspiring culinary works of art. I've been cooking mostly the same things for 30 years. Even my dog is not especially special. (shhh - don't tell her that - it would break her little heart)

So here's the truth. While life is good in all the ways we are grateful and thankful for, meaning our health is OK, not great, but we're still kicking. While thankfully Mike has a fulltime job, the kids are all OK - except for the oldest two I am not supposed to mention on this blog, one of which gives me all sorts of fits from 2000 miles away - life is also hard.

Some of it goes with the territory I guess. Start with a major move across the country which we had to pay ourselves totally, add possibly losing our home because of untrustworthy renters who did not follow through as promised and trying to support 2 households on one income (hopefully looking up with good renters now), the loss of Mike's mom and the guilt associated with not being there for her, coupled with the expenses as she had no insurance, and a new job change for Mike, albeit a good one. Add in changing schools, looking for doctors and dentists and orthodontists and new insurance companies, finding a church, making friends, and so on. And leaving my job, which I loved. And leaving friends behind. We left so much behind materially to try to keep the moving expenses down as much as possible that we found ourselves practically starting over from scratch, much like setting up a new household when we first married.

Fact - I struggle with depression, a lot. More than I care to admit even to myself. Some days the battle seems more than bearable. As a Believer, I hold to the promise that more than I can bear is not laid upon me. I cling to that. The reality is convincing myself - daily. I force myself to concentrate on the positive and the "haves" rather than the "have nots". I tell myself that a good portion is just plain loneliness - not knowing anyone. And my shyness prevents me from throwing myself into new social situations. It's tough being shy, and depressed, and broke, and lonely - and sad. I miss having parents and grandparents and relatives. I miss having friends. I feel like a misfit. I feel like I must be all things to many people yet fall so short in so many areas.

I know so much of the issue at hand is situational, and is for a time, a season. The truth is Mike and I both thought we would be much further along at this point in our lives. Financially the struggle impacts every other area. They are not as major as many have, but they are enough to be worrisome. Debt is a powerful master, even debt that was necessary to survive and put food on the table during the past couple of years after Mike lost his job. I am not talking extravagance in the least, as in trips or luxuries, but car repairs and groceries and clothing for growing kids. Personally, I own two pair of shoes, and Mike one. The kids wear recycled clothing (with the exception of athletic shoes for sports) and thankfully are such good kids and non-complainers. I recently got my hair cut for the first time in over a year (and I had a $9.95 coupon!). I bargain hunt and thrift shop and am quite proud of what I can accomplish in that area. But the constant struggle produces such weariness. And playing catch up is no fun.
I want to be like Scarlett O'Hara and "think about it tomorrow", but I can't. I have responsibilities.

So it's out there. I wish I could float sunshine and roses, but it would be a lie, a false front. Here it is, warts and all.

About this blog. No cute little kids - just cute big kids. No fancy trips and outing - just day to day life. No culinary works of art, or words of wisdom, or feats of greatness - just keeping the wolf at bay. It is what it is - period.

This Darn New Technology

2012-01-23T00:25:00.000-05:00

Please excuse all the extra STUFF on the counter and focus on the bottle of Pepsi. I was putting groceries away and making dinner and helping my girl unpack from her trip. See the old school glass bottle. My girl went on a church retreat this past weekend ALL. BY. HERSELF, meaning without her brothers. I think this is the first time they have been away from each other for that long. Not that they don't have their own friends and do different things, but they do often run in the same social circles. The three went away to camp for a week a couple of summers ago, so being away from home is not new, but I feel better when they are away AND together. Safety in numbers.

When you have triplets, you have to find a balance between fairness and sharing and equality and fostering their independence. Like all siblings, you have to share mom and dad, but multiples also have to share birthdays and toys and clothes and classrooms and friends. Youth group and retreats are shared usually, but the boys opted to stay home since they didn't want to miss b-ball. Hoops is their life. But in sharing many of these things, as a mom, finds me security because I know they look out for one another too.

During their school years so far, we have done many combos - all in the same class, separate classes, and homeschooling. They have risen to each occasion and done well in all scenarios. For my say in it, I do like having them together. Even if they don't interact, they have one another's back. Last year, my girl faced some verbal bullying by two older girls. Two girls with potty mouths. The majority was on the afternoon school bus. She tried to ignore them and did for a long time, but they got a little bolder and her brothers took matters into their own hands and eventually they backed off. I found out about this later. There have been other events where they stood up for one another. Even in preschool and kindergarten when they were very little, teachers told me they each did their own thing, had their own friends, yet watched out for one another. They knew where the other was. They would look around and search out their sib, then go back to whatever they were up too.

Back to the Pepsi. My girl picked this little treat up on her way home when they made a pit stop. It's from Mexico. All in Spanish, and I was told, high in sugar. The kids were absolutely fascinated with this glass bottle. She graciously offered to share with her brothers. They were thrilled.

I sat back and watched my poor deprived modern children attempt to get the bottle open.

First they tried to twist it. Uh, no - didn't twist. Hmmmm

I told them they needed a bottle opener. Mike told them they needed a CHURCHKEY. Huh.

I fished around the recesses of the miscellaneous drawer and handed them a bottle opener.

Then I sat back and watched. It was pretty funny.

They even worked together, but to no avail. After Mike and I stopped laughing, I popped the cap.

Next week I'm getting them a rotary phone.

Mozelle

2012-01-21T23:04:00.001-05:00

Please keep us in your prayers. Mike's mother passed away this week. It's been a tough week. Sadly, my children lost their last grandparent. She was 87.

Mike had no brothers or sisters, so he had no siblings to share the stresses (or the joys).

We are okay, but it's always tough to lose someone you love. I know I lost my sweet mother in 1996 and my dear father in 2005. I understand.

We'll stick together and get through it. Mozelle was a wonderful lady, a Believer, and we are all richer for having had her in our lives.

♥ Make Spaghetti Soup ♥

2012-01-15T19:47:00.001-05:00

Someone asked on Facebook earlier this week, what's for dinner. I posted Spaghetti soup and steamed broccoli and a few asked for the recipe. But you know me, before I give it, I have to give a little background and a story to go with.

When I was a little girl, there were many weekends I would go to my Granny's for the weekend, from age six to about twelve, at least once or twice a month. My dad was an only, so my brother and I were cherished and spoiled only grandchildren. It makes me sad my children, at least the younger three, have missed out on the grandparent - grandchild connection - but I digress.

My dad would often take me to my Granny's work on Friday evening and I would go home with her and my Granddaddy from there. My grandmother worked in an office building (10 stories) on Louisiana St in downtown Houston and she was an elevator operator, back in the day when there was a handle you moved to "drive" it up or down, and stop on the right spot to line up to the floor. When I was little, she would let me "drive" the elevator and it was fun to stop it between floors and open up the doors. It was a good job but it had it's ups and downs - ha ha. For several years, my grandfather worked in the same building as a maintenance man - isn't that cute.

(borrowed photo)

First stop after work was a shopping center near their apartment where Granny had a standing appointment each Friday to get her hair done. Side note, my Granny nearly always drove because she thought my Granddaddy drove too slow. Granny DIDN'T drive slow. She navigated the Houston freeways just fine, thankyouverymuch and get out of her way please.

While she was being coiffed and curled, always wanting ~~threatening~~ to get my stick straight pixie cut hair permed, which thankfully my mother vetoed, my Granddaddy and I would walk a couple of stores down to the drug store and sit at the counter and share a grilled cheese or apple pie or ice cream. Fond memories. While my grandparents were young grandparents, she was 48 when I was born and he was 51, my Granddaddy who had a heart of gold, was someone who was always OLD. He never acted young that even my father could remember, and he was only 19 when my father was born. That was just him. It may be because his father died when he was a toddler and from an early age, he had to go to work to help support his mother and baby brother and he never really had time for fun. Sitting at the counter with him is one of the few memories I have of doing anyting with him. He died when I was a senior in high school. He was 69.

We often stopped by the grocery store on the way home since Friday was payday for them as well. I'm sure she made other things, but most requested and fixed was hamburgers and spaghetti soup. Her burgers were nice and greasy, buns lightly steamed in the same skillet after the burgers were done, with a lid, fire turned off, giving them a little crunch on the bottom - with pickles and mustard. And a cold Coke in a small glass bottle. The spaghetti soup was a side dish. In later years, it became a main dish for my family.

While I always thought it was something special, I later discovered it was really an economical way to stretch the leftover hamburger meat. Speaking of hamburger meat - in New England a lot of people called it "hamburg", as in "add a pound of hamburg to your recipe". I still find that odd and can't call it just "hamburg". Is that just a New England thing or is calling it "hamburger meat" a Texas thing. My grandparents were not wealthy in the least and so had to be frugal, just like we are today.

After dinner, we would make brownies or a cake, something I never got to do at home. And we would watch country music shows which back then was hillbilly music, and the Dean Martin show. She loved Dino like I loved Elvis. Such good times and sweet memories.

But to the recipe - here goes!

Pretend you also see a pound or so of HAMBURGER (not hamburg) in addition to these simply ingredients, and forget you see the oranges. They aren't part of the recipe, DUH, but I did make homemade Orange Soda too. I also did part regular spaghetti and part whole wheat.

You are going to use about half of a large onion and a large bell pepper. Chop them up. I chop them quite small because one of my dear offspring has issues with anything green, unless it happens to be a Granny Smith apple or broccoli or a cucumber or lettuce with ranch. I probably did a little more than half and I threw some of the onions in with the HAMBURGER (not hamburg).

After I browned the meat, I drained as much grease out as I could and used a slotted spoon to take it out of the pan. In addition to changing our eating habit SLOWLY, I am also trying to use less paper towels, plastic, etc - and be greener and not have as much trash.

While the meat is cooking, bring the water to a boil, about half a large pot, and add the peppers and onions and also a tablespoon of Crisco. Now - Crisco is not something I use very often. In fact, this small can which I store in my fridge, will last years. And quite possibly it would be fine without, but she made it that way so I am convinced need to make it that way too. Back in the day Crisco was used quite often to grease a cake pan or a skillet since we didn't have Pam or other cooking sprays.

Add some salt and pepper and let cook until onion and pepper is soft, you can add a bit more water if it cooks down too much.

Add 24 or so ounces of tomato sauce and add the hamburger meat.

After that simmers for maybe 15 - 20 minutes, you add the spaghetti - not a whole box - maybe half to 2 thirds depending on how thick you want it. Let that cook for another 10-15 minutes until the pasta is done. I break the pasta in half.

This is another one of those dishes that is better the next day too. Make sure you season it well with salt and pepper. My son likes to put grated parmesan on it. It's very filling, very easy - and very economical. Good with grilled cheese sandwiches too.

*See the cookie jar to the right of the stove. It was my Granny's and in her kitchen for as long as I can remember. It's amazing it is actually unbroken and has survived my house and our many moves and many children.

And that my friends, is that. Very very simple. It's one of those dishes that warms my heart.

Homemade things & A.D.D. & Eliminating the Bad, help!

2012-01-11T17:42:00.001-05:00

I go through various spurts of well intentioned attempts to make my family opt for healthier options. My reasons are varied. My oldest son, now 25 (who I am not supposed to mention on my blog) struggled with some learning difficulties and was diagnosed with ADD around kindergarten age. From the time we adopted him at 18 months, until we FINALLY got him graduated from high school at age 20, every day was a struggle. We had more than our share of doctors and therapists and technicians and IEP's and tutors and conferences and possible and assorted diagnosis, and the list goes on. He never had the H (hyperactivity) factor, but his main issue was focus, or rather inability to maintain focus. Unless it happened to be something he had an interest in and then it was an issue of "attractability" where he had difficulty transitioning to the next thing. I think one of his last diagnosis was "PDD not otherwise specified". Naming the difficulty didn't matter. It was the struggles that mattered. And how to cope. What and why was not as important as what next. We believe a lot was hereditary and poor prenatal care (drug use)and we had little birth history, not that that mattered. As you can imagine, this did not bode well with traditional schoolwork or home life in general. We learned lots of strategies along with medications, which helped to compensate to ease some of the difficulties. It was always a struggle. ALWAYS. It still is. The deficits are still there. The school system failed him immensely. Yes he graduated and yes he met the goals they set, but whenever he had difficulties the goals were lowered rather than more assistance. Mike and I knew too little about Special Services and needed placements to advocate as we should have early on. By the time he was in middle school and high school, we had an educational advocate for him and he was given a full time aide and yes, it was better, but those early years took it's toll. The triplets were born when he was in 6th grade. You can imagine how the 5th grade (pregnancy) and 6th and 7th grade (preemies, infants) took a toll on our ability to focus as fully on his issues as we would have liked to.

I say all that to say this - there were times I saw that certain foods and additives and coloring impacted his behaviors and abilities immensely. For example Fruit Loops sent him bouncing off the walls. This was long before it was trendy or even common knowledge about the pitfalls of all the artificial sugars and colors and such. From about age 3 to age 7, we severely limited refined sugars and artificial colors. It made a huge difference. Once children get school age, it gets more difficult to monitor. Throw in a second child (we adopted Matthew, who was a very sickly and clingy baby) and some very difficult family situations like caring for my mother who had cancer and eventually passed away and my father's accident which resulted in a hip broken in nine places and a couple of years of wheelchair, walkers, therapies, etc - life. During this time, I was also working full time. It was a difficult few years. We made it through but much of those years are a blur. When he was 12, the triplets were born.

Watching and monitoring foods is a very consuming job. It's tough to tell three crying hungry babies to wait while I make some bread from scratch so it is natural without high fructose corn syrup. When an infant is in and out of the hospital with seizures and then bronchiolitis from RSV, and another has pneumonia, it's not "sorry I can't be there because I have to make sure the ketchup and fries are not laden with refined sugars.". Life was hard.

I am not making excuses, but I was tapped out. My plate was beyond full. I got lazy and we went back to a lot of the easier old ways of not always making the healthiest choices. I could cite excuses of unemployment, underemployment, teen stresses, infertility issues, sick babies, loss, depression, etc, but the why's of how I got there are immaterial now.

All that is background. Where we are now is important. My two older boys are grown - adults - who have to make their own decisions and choices. I can guide and support and advise, but they are in charge of themselves. The younger ones and Mike and I are the focus right now.

Back to my original point of making better choices. It's a process and a relearning of good habits. My biggest vice is Diet Coke. Mike too. I feel like I am totally addicted to it. I am addicted to it. I can take coffee or tea or leave it, no big deal. But I love DC! I am vowing, promising, swearing, I plan to totally be rid of soft drinks this year, this 2012. I have been buying the 8 pack of smaller bottles of DC, and having one each day. Eventually I will wean off of it. I am drinking more water. I like water - plain and I like water with lemon. I don't know why I don't drink it more. Lazy I guess because it's much easier to grab a coke. I am keeping a pitcher of tea in the fridge for Mike and the boys. And trying to lessen the sweetness of it, using agave sweetener. Which they are not happy about. Oh well. My girl likes water. She and the boys like milk too. But I buy 1%.

New substitute - and the kids actually like it. Add fresh orange juice to seltzer water and sweeten = homemade orange soda. It's really good. And fizzy.

We are taking vitamins - multi vitamins. Also I take fish oil and D and B12, in addition to my thyroid meds for Hashimoto's. I need to add calcium. I've been taking melatonin at night and I have been sleeping better. The kids and Mike do just the multi. Any other ideas or thoughts, shoulds or shouldn'ts.

And I am trying some new things out in addition to more fruits and veggies and leaner meats, Homemade yogurt made in the crock pot. I hate to mention it because I don't want to sound like one of those "all natural" nature goddess moms, but it turned out pretty good - and economical. I have oatmeal for breakfast, with banana and some nuts and Silk soy milk. I am definitely a work in progress. I think my goals are overall to eat better as a family, combined with weight loss (for me, hopefully), eliminate HFCS and the dyes and artificial stuff.

I am open to suggestions and advice.

Dr Naismith, You're the MAN!

2012-01-08T23:30:00.000-05:00

Waaaayyy back in 1891 at the local YMCA, Dr James Naismith had to keep his gym class occupied during December's bad weather, so he stuck a peach basketball on the wall and led his boys to throw a ball in it - thus basketball was born in the tiny town of Springfield MA. Dr. Naismith is to my boys like the Pope is to the Catholics. He's the man. He is at the basic tenets of their hoop faith. They have a passion for the all things b-ball.

My boys don't just enjoy playing the game and watching the game and keeping up with their idols from the game, they study the game. They know the stats and the standings and the history of teams, both NBA and college. They know about various players and their histories and their awards and their accomplishments. They study strategies and various plays. They both plan to be NBA stars so they can take care of their mother in the manner she would like to become accustomed to.

I love that they love it.

Since we moved to Utah, they have found basketball to be an activity they could find common ground and a kinship within the community of other basketball lovers. They found a place to grab some of the old ways of being part of a team - something they were passionate about in our former home.

Right after our move, they tried out for the 8th grade boys basketball team at their new school. After three days of try outs, the aspiring player list was whittled down to the current nine players representing their school. Thankfully, both my boys are part of that nine. Key word is BOTH.

When you have multiples and they are younger, there is no problem in placing them on the same teams because you are paying for them to play and the money talks. My boys have always played on the same soccer teams (all three kids when they we little), same little league teams, and same basketball teams, starting with the 7-9 league and then the 10-13 league. Otherwise it is a logistical nightmare. I know you moms of similar age children KNOW what I am talking about. You may not have a choice when the ages vary. But when you can make life easier, you do, unless you are just plain crazy. But when the boys tried out for the team I began to think what IF one makes it and one doesn't. (although boys I know you read this so please know Mom knew both of you would make the team)

I cannot even imagine the horror nor do I want to.

In addition to the school team, they are playing on another team as well, an AAU league. For the two different teams, our schedule is this: Monday practice, Tuesday practice, Wednesday game, Thursday game, Friday practice and then another practice other team, and Saturday morning practice and Saturday evening a game. WHEW - I need a schematic to keep up. Or maybe a flow chart. At the very least a detailed calendar.

But because it is their passion, and they love it, and we love them, we do it. Mike on the other hand, is playing vicariously through his boys. He eats it up. It is his thing and one of their connections.

I have to admit, I don't know a lot about basketball. But I am learning. When the whistles blows I usually have to ask Mike why. I know about traveling and double dribble and fouls, but don't get screens and setting a pick and over the back. I even know what a triple double is. But for all I don't know, I do know the thrill I get when I see my boys on the court at the same time and see one of them pass the ball to the other - and then he makes a shot and they high five each other. I love seeing cooperation. Same with baseball and one is the pitcher one is the catcher. I love it.
When Mike and I were dating and I was in college, we used to go to a lot of the basketball games there. It was a small school and he had graduated from there also, a few years before me. I had little interest in basketball, but I loved being with him. We'd sit there, me with my popcorn and coke, talking to my friends, and him with his rapt attention to the game. And his yelling. Mike likes to yell at the refs because they all make such bad calls. And to his credit, he does know the game inside and out.
"Which game are you watching!"
"Give him a suitcase for that travel!"
"Last time I witnessed a robbery, they had a gun!"
"Call it both ways!"
and the all famous ... "Get your tongue out of your whistle ref!"

Some things never change. Love you honey.

The interesting thing is my boys are having to reinvent themselves. Before, they were big fish in a small pond. Now the pond is way bigger and the competition is more intense and they are not so big. But they have a perseverance fueled by that passion and are growing. It's a learning experience and they are rising to the challenge. Like I've heard time and time with multiples, it doesn't always get easier, it just gets different. Instead of juggling bottles and diaper changes and play group, I juggle different props now.

Add into the mix my daughter's current theater rehearsals and yes, it's busy.

"Boy, you have your hands full!"

How original. Yes, I do - and my heart is full as well. Praise God.

NewYear New Place New Lives Same Great Love

2012-01-06T16:31:00.001-05:00

I need to get this post down because, goodness gracious it's already the 6th of January and where has this week gone to. If this week is any indication of what this year holds, then before I blink twice we will be off to high school and then college and work and marriage and grandchildren.
Oh my - it makes my head spin just thinking about it.

There is approximately six years between the triplets and Matthew and six years between Matthew and James - 1998, 1992, 1986 - we must like those even number years. Mike is the only odd number.
By the time they graduate high school I will have had kids in school for 25+ years. That's a boatload of school lunches and field trips and projects and teacher gifts and HOMEWORK and conferences and report cards and all the rest that goes with navigating K-12 and coming out whole on the other side.
Four more years folks - four more years!

Back to my original thoughts - the New Year in a New Place. In many ways our lives are very different now than back in New England. We are settling in, finding our way around, and going about making it good. The kids still miss their friends (so do I) and I miss our house. Whereas MA was a small town life, which is both pro and con, Salt Lake is more city. Growing up in Houston, it doesn't bother me, but the kids, well they are still amazed by all the lights and stores and such. It's going to take time.

Imagine my surprise to see fireworks as I perused the aisle of Target! Maybe not blow-em-up spectacular fireworks, but sparklers anyway. I was absolutely shocked. In Massachusetts, they are pretty illegal in any form, not that that stopped everyone, but for the most part fireworks were verboten within the state line. Last year I did manage to pick up some contraband sparklers from a friend of a friend and we froze our rears off "sparkling" them in the driveway. It was a first for them.
So to ring in the new and out with the old, I bought the sparklers. Conveniently they came in a package of 6 small boxes, color coded and divisible by three. And picked up a bottle of bubbly - which for us came in the form of sparkling apple cider. Do we know how to party or what.

In order to truly celebrate, as if 12 straight hours of Disney Channel - and a little of Dick Clark - love Dick Clark! were not enough - we ~~popped the cork~~ twisted the top and toasted the year to come!

I am not really worried about my boy having a drinking problem if his reaction to "sparkling" cider is any indication.

To my friends and family, and folks who happen to stop by our little journal from time to time, I wish you a happy 2012. May God richly bless you.

Introducing... the Black Eyed Peas!

2011-12-31T23:39:00.001-05:00

Not the singing group silly - the food!

Being a southern born and bred girl, married to a southern born and bred guy, both going back a few generations - except for my New England trio - southern traditions are still intact around here.

One such is black eyed peas for New Years - can't have good luck for the new year if you haven't had at least a bite or two.

Forgive me for going all Pioneer Woman here, but I thought I'd share how I made them this year. Not that I have her cooking ability, or her photography skills, or her sense of style, but hey, I love my hubby and kids as much as she does and I do know how to cook southern style. For what it's worth, Mike and I love B-E-P's, just cooked with a little bacon grease, served with cornbread and topped with onions - YUM.! But I decided to do a little different variation here for a heartier meal.

I chopped 4 stalks of celery, half a green bell pepper, and half an onion. I actually did this a couple of days ago and put them in the fridge so they were ready to go when I needed them.

This was the rest of the cast of characters I used.

Here in Utah, there's not a Trader Joes - at least I haven't found one yet. I shopped there only occasionally in New England as it wasn't close either, but I did stock up on a couple of their spices which I loved, one of which is 21 seasoning salute. It's a spice seasoning combo and there are other brands comparable I'm sure. Guess I'll have to search for one when my stock runs out.
I used dried peas because I like to cook my own WITH the seasoning, but you could use fresh or canned also.

Rinse the peas really well. Then put them in a large pot and cover with water. I know a lot of people say you have to soak dried peas and beans first, but in all honesty I have NEVER done this and have never had a problem. Bring to a boil and cook for about 45 minutes or so, making sure the water does not cook down too far, so you have to watch them close and probably will have to add more water.

After that, add the cut up veggies, a couple or three tablespoons of the seasoning and a couple or three tablespoons of chili powder. I chopped up a jalapeno and a some garlic cloves and added that too, as well as salt and pepper and chicken broth and more water. NOW, I didn't picture this, but the key to yummy taste is adding a slice or two of bacon. I didn't have any bacon, but I do keep a jar of bacon grease in my fridge and I add a spoon or two to a lot of different things, like pinto beans or green beans, or black eyed peas. I don't cook bacon very often but when I do, I always make sure I save the grease. When I get low on grease we have bacon at our house again. You could use a ham bone if you have it, or some chopped ham, or just go vegan and go without. It's gonna be good either way.

Let it cook for a looonngg time, maybe an hour or 2, adding more liquid (water or broth) as necessary. I actually made this yesterday and then put it in the refrigerator because B-E-Ps, like pinto beans, or chili, or soups and stews, is one of those things that seem to taste better the next day after all the flavors have blended effectively. I then cooked it another 30 minutes before serving, adding a little more salt and pepper.

You can let the juices cook way or down, or serve it more like a soup if you wish. We prefer it more soupy. You can serve it over rice, top with a few chopped onions, and a side of cornbread of course. In the south, cornbread accompanies many meals, often a few times a week. Mmmmm I love cornbread, Mike loves cornbread, my kids do not.
Side note, best way to bake cornbread is an iron skillet - add a spoon of bacon grease, put in the oven and let it get hot, THEN pour the batter in the skillet and bake. Makes a nice yummy slightly crunchy crust to the sweet yummy inside.

On a further side note, do NOT grab the handle of the skillet with your bare hand once it is out of the oven. I did that once when I was a child. I thought I'd help my mother out and flip the cornbread onto a plate for her, like I'd seen her do a million times. I didn't realize she had JUST taken it out of the oven. Ouch! I had blisters on my palm like you wouldn't believe. But I digress....

Although Mike and I grew up in Texas, my parents were originally from Tennessee and Alabama, his from Texas and Louisiana - a little Cajun influence there. According to my father, his family not only had B-E-Ps on new years, emphasis on the HAD TO HAVE, tradition included putting a silver dime in the pot. The story goes, if you were the lucky recipient having the dime in your bowl, not only would you have good luck, you would come into some money during the new year as well. I can report with all certainty, this particular tradition must have stopped with my grandparents because we didn't put money in our food. Ha - with my luck, the dime would probably bring bad luck since someone would probably choke on it.

Please use your imagination and picture a big buttery slab of cornbread sitting alongside this - and while you're at it, maybe some mustard greens or boiled cabbage and a slice of ham - delish!

As yummy as this taste treat delight is, my kids won't touch it with a ten foot pole. They will fight over the last piece of steamed broccoli - go figure. Must be their New England birth.
Mike and I will enjoy and the luck will just have to trickle down to them vicariously as they enjoy their chicken nuggets and fries. Quite possibly the tradition stops here.

Happy New Year!

No Need to Feel So Puzzled

2011-12-29T15:50:00.001-05:00

A few weeks before Christmas, in my motherly ~~insanity~~ wisdom, we did a jigsaw puzzle as a form of a family activity. I already expressed my love hate relationship of puzzles. Does anyone like puzzles. (forgive my lack of question marks - it appears that key is non functional - kids) So anyway, we completed that fun Santa puzzle and shortly thereafter, for some insane reason, started another 550 piece one.

Last night we (and I use the term WE very loosely, as in WE shot a bear) finished this puzzle. My family totally bailed on this one with the exception of the last twenty or so pieces. It's as if we are the Little Red Hen of puzzledom. No one wants to plant the seeds or grind the wheat or kneed the dough, but everyone wants a slice of nice warm bread.

Everyone felt the need to place the last piece and then admire their work. Actually, my boy who placed it should have had the honor due him since HE found the missing piece under the couch. How did that happen.
I chose this particular puzzle for two reasons. One, it had nothing to do with Christmas and we were ready to move on, and two, this sweet little girl reminded me of my sweet little girl, back when she was a little girl - she's still sweet.

I did receive a compliment from Mike last night. He admired my stick-to-it-iveness as he sat on the couch watching Rockford Files. I am not so sure it is a determination as much as an innate stubbornness. Once I start something, especially something challenging, I don't want it to get the best of me and I do - within my power - what I said I would do. I hate to give up. It's a good thing I have that stubborn streak. I have my children because of it. I refused to accept defeat and continued on the infertility road for thirteen years. I do know when enough is enough, but I seriously felt God would indeed give me "the desires of my heart" and waited on His timing. I had fervently prayed for years to have that desire removed, with no results. After the birth of our children, I knew our family was complete. I just knew. That longing was gone. I loved seeing babies and being around babies, but no longer had the tug from within. Had that desire dissapated prior, I would not have been so determined. I just wish I understood His timing. It would make things so much easier through those years of heartbreak.

Once there was a little girl, about three or four years old. She enjoyed going to church with her family and had been in church since in utero, starting with cradle roll and since. Almost every experience in her home church was in Sunday School or Children's Church. She had little exposure to BIG church, but she had learned in her limited childish way, to love Jesus with her whole heart.
One day her mother had a very important committee meeting at church. Those all important committees. Mike says if the Ark had gone to committee Noah and his family would have drowned. The girl's mother soon realized she had not planned for a sitter and there was no class or group or nursery to occupy her little darling. She resigned herself to bringing her. After all, she was a good little girl and would be no problem. Armed with a tote bag of picture books and crayons and paper and a dolly, she decided to sit her down on the back row of the church and make a quick appearance at her important committee meeting. Attempting to put the fear of God in her, she gave specific instructions. "I have to go to my meeting. You sit right here, be very quiet, and wait for me. Do not misbehave or do anything bad. I will be back very soon!".

The little girl sat obediently and occupied herself with her bag of goodies. After a few minutes though, she got bored. She soon started looking around wide eyed at the sights, never having been in Big Church. There was a group of men down front. Cocking her head to one side, she listened intently to what they were saying, but she couldn't understand. Happily, she finally realized they were praying.

She stood up and in a clear loud voice, said "Dear Jesus, ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOP, QRSTUV, WXYZ, thank you Jesus!". And she sat back down. Right away, a man from down front marched to where she sat and said in a loud booming voice, "Young lady, how dare you say the alphabet to God!".

She looked up at him quite innocently batting those big blue eyes. "Well I wanted to talk to my Jesus, but I didn't know what to say. So I gave Jesus all the letters and I'm going to let Jesus put it all together!"

The man had no reply. He quietly walked away. For the new year, it might be a good thought to let the master puzzle builder have the pieces and let Him put it all together.

Dear Utah

2011-12-28T22:38:00.000-05:00

Dear Utah,
The time has come. I am going to tell you unabashedly, without reservation, and without remorse or guilt - I like you. If you were a facebook post, I'd "like" your status. If you were a blog post, I'd comment on your fine features. If you were a quote, I'd share you with others. If you were a photo, I'd want a copy for my wallet. You're OK.

I can't go so far as professing love, or even adoration. That is reserved for my beloved Texas. But you are well ahead of the game. After fifteen years of New England life, our relationship never progressed beyond acceptance and cooperation - and compromise. Sure, there was an inital honeymoon period and a joy in the novelty of snowy winters, colorful falls, and pleasant summers. But it was still superficial. I never felt acceptance, but for the sake of my children, it was tolerable. Even so, it was floors above Southern California's rockin and rollin'. California did have a redeeming factor in birthing Matthew.

So while you don't have the status of love and you certainly are not loathed, you are beyond compromise. I think we're going to get along just fine. The fact is has been the least snowiest December on record doesn't hurt a bit either. You are friendly and sociable. Only time will tell where this leads. It definitely has promise.

Sincerely,
A Native Texan

"Santa Comed - He Really Comed!"

2011-12-26T17:49:00.001-05:00

Many many years ago, when Mike and I were still fairly new parents, quite overwhelmed at the holidays with our ONE child, James(Ricky), age 3 or 4, exclaimed those title words in such excitement over the fact the big man in red had indeed visited our house overnight. Since then, every Christmas morning those words come back to me.

This year was no different. "Santa comed!" We have no little ones that believe in the magic of Santa, but we still have excitement. The excitement is much better contained than in the younger years, but nonetheless it's there. And this year the excitement was on a different time schedule since Mike had to work. As much as I would have preferred him to be home, I am so grateful that after 2 + LOONGGG years, he has a full time job. He does love what he does and he makes a difference in the lives of the veterans who deserve so much more than we could possibly give. I am so proud of him.
The kids opened one gift on Christmas Eve, a family Wii game. Christmas morning, when everyone got up around 9ish (boy is THAT different from years past when we were DONE by 7 - lol), the kids explored their stockings - customary socks and underwear along with nail polish and foam balls and candy and oranges and nuts, then one group gift - Skylanders for Wii. To keep them occupied of course a method to my madness. We them watched a jillion hours of ~~mindless~~ entertaining tween Disney shows until Mike finally got home from work. You know, there was a reason we didn't have cable before. Sponge Bob is on some channel 24 hours a day I'm convinced. Why I don't know.

We went to the Christmas Eve service at church Saturday afternoon. Our church is really good and interesting and quite cutting edge as far as churches go. Part of me misses the more traditional, but this style is a good fit for our family. I don't know too many people there yet. I am more introverted and it's hard for me to make friends in new situations. I really could use a friend - praying to make some friends this new new year. Mike is just the opposite. You know, I had a thought during the service. A lot of people don't go to church using the excuse that churches are full of hypocrites. Which may or may not be true. But isn't it just as hypocritical or maybe even more so, for non-believers to celebrate and embrace Christmas so wholeheartedly - celebrating the birth of Christ. Food for thought.

We loaded up the kids that evening, pajamas and all, made hot chocolate, and drove to see Christmas lights.

We only got lost a few times, made several wrong turns, found out that yes they charge to drive through the light display. Honestly it didn't occur to me since the ones we went to back in Houston and also in College Station, never charged. It was a gift from the city. Silly me - how times have changed.

And yes, sadly, I am one of THOSE moms who match or coordinate their kid's Christmas pajamas. They don't complain too much. Either that or they have just resigned their fate and roll with the punches, humoring their dear old mother, while also knowing who butters their bread.

They were more than ready to open gifts by 5 o'clock - which they did in record time. Mike and I watched and reflected on year's past when chaos reigned and all we could do was crowd control trying to minimize the damage and the lost pieces that inevitably were in the trash with the wrapping paper. In fact, I think this was the first year we DIDN'T have to go through the trash searching for an important and integral tiny pieces of something. I know you know what I'm talking about. Nothing took a hundred hours to disengage from the packaging either. It makes you wonder just how people shoplift toys. And there were no tears, no arguments, no disappointments. It was truly a first. Most Christmases I am so overwhelmed by the time the excitement dies down that I have to take to my bed - lol.

Today my house is still total chaos. Honestly it couldn't be much messier, but it is a happy place so we'll just go with the flow for a day or two. I miss having my two adult sons here with us, but it wasn't in the budget to fly them here. I am sure the calmness had to do with less people in the mix and the fact the kids are getting older. Their toys are more expensive so that leads to less gifts. Electronics are smaller so that leads to less mess. It's a work in progress. Life is really a work in progress.

Lucy received the gift of her dreams - a new monkey. She loves her monkey. If you get a new monkey, how can anything be wrong in the world.

I hope you all had the holiday you wanted, savoring the gift of His love, and rejoicing in being with those you love. Merry day after Christmas.

Cookies, Contests, & Puzzles: A Hodgepodge

2011-12-21T21:42:00.001-05:00

The kiddos are out of school until after the first of the year. I am so glad. No, really I am. I know the craziness of having multiples would seem to dictate just the opposite, and while that may have been true at other points in our lives, right now I am enjoying being with them. It is easy to just BE with them and not have to entertain, supervise, dictate, schedule and referee.
Well maybe a little refereeing is involved from time to time, but for the most part the squabbles are solved with minimal intervention from me. It's nice to have big kids :)

It hasn't always been this way. There have been many many days in recent years I was so glad to be at work. I hate admitting that. Work was calm and predictable and I felt appreciated. I don't do well with chaos and adversity and having to walk carefully so as to not upset the cart. And that cart was so easily upset. It makes me enjoy the place we are currently at in our family life. I constantly pray it is a new normal and not the calm before another storm appears on our family horizon.
Since we've been home, we've had plenty to keep us occupied. The kids youth group had a party earlier this week. They are slowly getting into the group, but still missing their old friends. Speaking of such, my girl got the gift of her dreams from a friend. A 5lb Hershey bar!

The party came complete with a cookie competition and an ugly outfit contest.

Cookies, while creating wonderful family memories, do not come cheap. My boy decided HE was going to win this, since he knew his brother was a shoo in for the ugly contest.

To get the full effect, you need to see the whole get up. Oh, and the tie plays Jingle Bells - classy.

I am sad to report he came in 2nd place. He did however, score a Cold Stone gift card which he is giving his Secret Angel for Christmas. I hope I am his Angel. Every year on Thanksgiving we draw names for Secret Angels. You don't tell who you got. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, you secretly do kind deeds for your Angel, such as do one of their chores, or make their bed, or perhaps bring them a fresh hot cinnamon roll. Then you purchase a small gift for that person and when we exchange gifts, you try to guess who your secret angel is. In theory it works that way. In practice it is still a work in progress.

My other boy decided he was not comfortable working an ugly outfit, so I WE made melting snowman cookies.

My trusty mixer is on it's last leg. I LOVE my mixer. It was my mother's and has made many a fruit cake, birthday cakes and Christmas cookies. It is probably at least 40 years old. It makes me feel a little closer to her to use it - silly, huh

Speaking of old things, trendy to call them vintage - I also LOVE my rolling pin. It belonged to my grandmother. She and my grandfather married in 1925 and her uncle carved it for her as a wedding gift.

She was 14 and he was 17. Can you imagine. They were married 54 years so I guess it worked out.

Making fanciful cookies is not an inexpensive endeavor. I had to go to three different stores to get the colors and types of ingredients I needed. If someone makes you cookies, you should appreciate it!

Voila'! (he didn't win) ..... but it was fun.

Also, a word of advice, do not buy a used jigsaw, even if you are repeatedly assured that "Yes, all the pieces are there! ". I truly despise and yet love, jigsaw puzzles. The epitome of a love-hate relationship. I think they are a tremendous waste of valuable time. So for some insane reason I decided in all my motherly Christmas tradition glory, it would be a wonderful idea for us to do a holiday puzzle as a family.

I told the kids we had to finish the puzzles in order for Santa to come (insert huge eye rolls here).

We finally finished it last night - less 3 missing pieces.

Since that was so much fun, I picked up another puzzle while I was out today. I don't know why I do these things - mom insanity I guess. This one is a new one so all the pieces SHOULD be there.

As we count down to the big day, the day we celebrate the birth of our Saviour, I am making a serious effort to slow down and enjoy these moments of family togetherness. This is the first year in memory I am ahead of the game, having gifts purchased and wrapped 3 whole days before Christmas. I am missing my 2 big boys, even though I am not supposed to mention them on my blog. Sigh.

But my younger three are doing well, looking forward to Christmas, glad to have time off school, and as for me, I am taking it one day at a time. The days often drag, but the years fly by.

The One Where Mike and I Went Out

2011-12-18T18:26:00.000-05:00

Mike and I are not exactly part of the "get dressed up and go out" crowd. We are part of the rather stay at home and be comfortable and hang out crowd. In fact, until the other night, I had tucked in the back of my mind, the loathed feeling of getting gussied up. I guess when I was younger, and thinner, and prettier, it wasn't so bad. But as I age - and not as gracefully as I would like - the thrill of make up and stockings and jewelry and heels, has lost it's luster. Back in the day, I loved it, but now, it's just a lot of work.

But there are some pros and advantages at this point in our mundane little lives. For one, we don't need to scour high and low to procure a babysitter nor do we need to break the bank to hire one. On occasion, in years gone by, James and later Matthew would sometimes sit their sibs, but often times it was not a smooth event. It was way more trouble than it was worth - the mess, the tears (mine and theirs), the worry, and often times the phone calls of distress. I'm just saying there are those that allowed a little power to go to their heads. It was way easier to hire someone. But I digress.

This is the actress Jane Seymour - Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. She spoke for a few minutes at the dinner we went to. Forgive the poor quality of my cell phone pics.

What a great way to be included in the hot ticket event in Utah. We were given VIP tickets to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's Christmas program. It included a fancy schmancy interfaith dinner that was YUM, (strawberry salad, prime rib, veggies and chocolates), a few remarks by LDS bigwigs welcoming us, escorted VIP reserved seating (and Mike loved this, reserved "special guest" parking) - after everyone passed through the metal detectors successfully - and then the Christmas extravaganza.

Being new to Utah, and very much confused by the simplicity of their street assignments, we arrived ALMOST late since we got a little lost. I miss the confusing traffic patterns and kamikaze rotaries of New England. At least you had good reason for tardiness there. Since I mentioned Mike and I are polar opposites, this is another area we are Felix and Oscar. It's one I would very much like to change because punctuality is not my greatest strength and I really don't like it. Sadly, that apple did not fall far. My dad had the same annoying trait. Good thing we have those that love us and overlook this character flaw. I do think my mom overlooked my dad's flaw much better than Mike overlooks mine. We left a bit late, got a bit lost, had some words concerning bad drivers, confusing traffic, which street was which, whether we were heading north or south, and where the parking lot was located. Right before we finally found our lot, Mike had exclaimed we should "just forget the whole thing and go home!!", plus a few other choice words not fit for a preacher to be expressing. His fuse can be a little short at times. Short fuse and constant lateness does not make for a pleasant exchange.

The point is, we DID find it, parked the car, walked across the street to the conference center, and were rewarded for our stick-to-it-iveness by this beautiful sight:

After the dinner, making small talk with the other invited guests, meeting some really nice folks, we were escorted to a tiny little conference center. As in a 21,000 seat auditorium filled to capacity and an elaborate stage with lights and trees and an orchestra and a 200 rank organ. Wow, just wow - overwhelming. The show was really good, the musical talent outstanding - Nathan Gunn, who I hadn't heard of since I am not much into world renown baritones and opera singers - and of course the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Jane Seymour did the narrating. It was interesting to watch the flow of the show. It was being filmed for a PBS special, complete with a gigantic teleprompter behind us and many cameras and lights. The dancers and costumes were spectacular. It really is THE event since tickets are free and dispersed by a lottery system MANY months prior to the event. Evidently there are people that try to get tickets for years!

Since we are not in the know as far as the LDS regime, we had an interesting oops moment. Prior to the start, the room became quiet and everyone stood up. I looked around for a flag thinking we were going to sing the Star Spangled banner or something. Duh. The leader (president) of the LDS church had entered the auditorium and was taking his seat. It was really a cool sign of respect, I get that, but I'm not sure how I feel about a church elevating ANY person to that level. Any church.

After the show, we left the building talking about our favorite parts, and this was our view of the Temple near the conference center.

So all in all, despite the chaos, and the traffic, and the getting lost, and the crowds, it was definitely worth getting all fancified and going out - a free dinner, a free show, wonderful sights, and holding the hand of the man I have loved for the past 32 years.

A Few (and I do mean FEW) Decorations

2011-12-16T10:00:00.000-05:00

You would think, for someone my age, with 5 children, who has been married 27 years, I would have more Christmas decorations than you could shake a stick at. But for some reason, I don't.

Mike and I are polar opposites. He is a saver and I am a tosser. I don't keep a lot of things I probably should have kept, but I did keep some. Also, with our moves, things have disappeared - probably still buried in a random box that has yet to be opened (from our LAST move in 2003) when we bought our house. I am of the mindset less is more.

This is the main display of our Christmas decor, other than our tree which gets closer every day to totally defying gravity with it's leaning ability. Just another Christmas miracle.

I also have a new in the box, Dept 56 ceramic Graceland. I think I bought it about ten years ago. Maybe next year I will get it out, but I still don't feel confident enough to do so, even though the kids are thirteen. Two thirds of them are boys. I also have my grandmother's 1950's ceramic NOEL angel candle holders, but I have no idea where they are, not that I would put those out either.

When I was a little girl, I always wanted a dollhouse. I had one when I was very young. I barely remember it. Borrowed eBay photo - it looked like this.

I distinctly remember some of the pieces - the baby's playpen and crib, the washer and dryer, the kitchen table, and the plastic people unlike the one in this photo because the ones I had were not bendable - they were more of the plastic soldier variety. I loved that little dollhouse .... until ...

I vividly remember this too. I stood up to leave my room and felt something strange. I glanced down at my hand and the blood was gushing. I had sliced open my thumb on the lovely SHARP edges of the roof of the METAL dollhouse. I remember screams and hysterics and pain. To this day, I still have a long scar as a reminder of this dollhouse. I think my mom must have put it away after that incident because I don't think I ever played with it again. I think I was afraid of it.

Safety was not was it is today. Anyone else remember those metal fans that would slice your hand off if you got near it. We had the fear of death instilled in us and knew it would suck us in and so we never ever went near it.

After all these any years of wanting a dollhouse, I acquired one recently. It is small, non-metal, and was bare. I discovered a few ornaments and decorations that fit - or not - added some lights. Voila' - I have a dollhouse - a Christmas dollhouse. My kids laugh at me, but I don't care. It's nice to bring a little joy into their mundane lives.

I do have a few favorite cherished ornaments. I was glad to find those.

I think one of the joys of Christmas is the memories. I'm not sure my kids will remember their mother's silly dollhouse, but I hope they always remember how much they are loved.

Traditions and Counting Down

2011-12-15T10:00:00.000-05:00

One of the true joys of Christmas is family traditions. Looking back when I was growing up, several come to mind -- my mom's fruitcake for one. She made a fruitcake around the 1st of December and it was "seasoned" in bourbon until Christmas. Everyone loved it. Supposedly even those who claimed to dislike fruitcake, loved her fruitcake. I was never one of those fans, although I did like picking the pecans off the top and eating them. I have her recipe but have never made it. Mike is the only one who would like it.

Speaking of pecans, that brings up another memory. My dad was an insurance man and had a LOT of customers. Forty years in the same business does that. Anyway, every year he would bring home a sack or two - paper garbage bag size - of pecans. He would watch tv in the evenings and shell them. It was usually one for the jar, one for him, one for me. He would end up with several containers of pecans, and Mom used them in oatmeal cookies, pecan pie, and of course, fruitcake.
Another memory is mistletoe. We always had mistletoe. And my grandmother's coconut cake. And leaving cookies and milk for Santa and having a "thank you" note written on the napkin. Santa's handwriting was remarkably a lot like my dads. Isn't is funny the things that spark memories for us.

This is the first time we have ever had a real tree. We left our fake one back in MA. It was a white fiber optic gaudy looking tree - but it was picked out by one of the kids and they loved our disco tree. After several years it was a bit ragged. It was time to forgo that little "tradition" and start a new one. When the kids were younger we had lots of winters when nebulizers were our best friend and we were concerned a live tree would aggravate the situation. I am thankful to report the only neb user the past couple of seasons was me with the idiot H1N1 flu. You know, the flu I couldn't get a shot for because I wasn't in the "high risk group. Anyway, so far so good. Aside from the tree sharing a special trait with the leaning tower of Pisa and the fact we haven't unearthed a lot of our ornaments from the move, all is well.
I wonder if the kids will remember the first time we had a real tree.

I know my kids will remember THIS tradition. We've done advent calenders with the little pieces of chocolate, red and green paper chains to countdown, opening a new Christmas theme book each evening to read, an advent wall hanging where you move the decorations each night, but by far their favorite is the "Christmas Countdown Box." The end of November I start collecting small fun and varied gifts - 24 of them. I wrap each one and number them 1 to 24. A bowl holds scraps of paper 1-24. Each evening a child draws a number and then finds the corresponding gift. This was a great tool for learning to wait until YOUR day. Often times the gifts were gifts to share.

There's been three Hershey bars, a jar of green sprinkles, a dog treat, a Wimpy Kid book, a snow globe, 2 ornaments, an Angry Bird plush toy (that has turned into a soccer ball of sorts) and body powder.

You just never know what you're going to get.

My boy was just giddy with one of his recent prizes. Something right up his alley.

Everyone loves being able to scrub their own back.
Ten more gifts to go.

Each year I remind the kids they are silly fun presents. Do they really want to do it again this year. I receive a resounding yes. So I guess this is our tradition.

Christmas will be here before you know it, ready or not.

Utah - Moving West and Moving Forward

2011-12-14T10:00:00.000-05:00

I have debated continuing my little journal or not. When you read about people stealing photos and worse horror stories and you realize there is a whole big cyber world out there, it can be daunting. But on the other hand, I have met so many really nice folks through this blog - cyber friends - and I enjoy reading blogs about family life and other topics - there is more to life than just people who have multiple children, believe it or not - and I learn a lot about a variety of topics, from chicken farming to stain removal to how to stand even more craziness than I have in my life, thus making me look somewhat sane and calm.

So moving forward for now, here we go.

On the home front, we are HERE - Utah that is. We are settling in, slowly but surely. It is interesting to move somewhere - 2000+ miles from "home" sight unseen and try to get a handle on what and where and who. It sort of hit me when I registered the kids for school (we had planned to homeschool, but had to switch gears last minute for MY sanity - big mama guilt about that). When you fill out the million forms, in triplicate, there is a place to list emergency contact in case they cannot reach you. I realized I had NOT ONE NAME to list, knowing absolutely NO ONE within 1500 miles! That was weird. I left it blank.

Since October, we have not had a television. That has been an adjustment. We left a lot of our things back in MA since the two older boys are living in our home there. Maybe NOT the best idea in retrospect, but in theory it should work. (in actuality, no one is paying their rent as they should - flakes!) We arrived without a washer & dryer, no living room furniture, no television, minimal kitchen items and linens - leaving things for the boys. Plus, those of you with children, multiples or not, can understand that often times after MANY years of triplet ~~abuse~~ use, much of it was not worth bringing. Since arriving, we have hooked up with a great church that Mike was already attending, and through their acts of kindness ministry, we have acquired a few things that some members were planning to discard as they didn't need them - including a Maytag HE front loader washer and dryer, beautiful sofa and loveseat, distressed leather couch for the kid's loft area, an entertainment center, and a TV (which was hooked up to the Wii post stat). One of my boys was incredibly happy. He received a BEAUTIFUL queen iron bed with a NEW queen pillowtop mattress and boxspring. He is sooooo happy. Plus the boys each have their own rooms - they have always shared. That said, it has still been a struggle, although I can't justify complaining. The move costs us much more than we anticipated and was estimated. Starting over is expensive, from trash cans to towels to pots and pan and so on and so on. But it will eventually settle down after the first of the year.

The boys are playing basketball, having made the 8th grade team at their school. They are also on an AAU tea. My girl is dancing, so she is happy. They are slowing making their way into the Youth group at church. I know they miss all their friends and they have gone from being big fish in a small pond to one of many fish in a much larger pond. They are in honors classes and it is a much larger school, all new teachers, new kids, making their way and finding their course. It has been a HUGE adjustment for them, but they have been troopers and I couldn't be more proud. Six week mid terms came home last week and it was very pleasing. I have the best kids. We are sticking together and it's going to be good. We are finding our new normal. Gosh, I love them more than words can say.

I will start my holiday prep posts soon. Stay tuned. Blessings!

Grade 8 VS Grade 1 & Plans

2011-09-06T22:17:00.002-04:00

After a few windblown days delaying the start of school, 8th grade is now officially underway. My girl spent weeks deciding what to wear her first day - gray skinny jeans and striped shirt - beautiful curls that she loathes, carefully straightened.

My boys picked out new outfits too. It is interesting to see their varied tastes that shows how individual multiples can be. This has been true since day one.

Back in the day when Mom picked out all their clothes - 7 yrs ago to the day in fact - the start of 1st grade. (boys spots are switched).

My how time flies.

Mike is in Salt Lake City and I am playing single mom these days - to the trio and the 2 adult children who are not to be mentioned on this blog, per their very specific instructions.

The plan is in place, with a few twists and turns and minor bumps in the road, but we are coping. The kids questioned starting school here since we will be leaving mid October, but school is important and not to be missed, even if it is only 6 or 8 weeks. Our plans for the remainder of the school year are not yet set. There's a very good possibility we will homeschool the rest of the year, depending on where we will be living, which has not been determined yet either. Mike is looking for a house, scoping out areas, schools, churches, etc. Our two older boys will stay in our house here, renting it with a couple of friends. I wish we could sell it, but the past couple of years of unemployment and underemployment have weighed heavily on the upkeep and repairs and that, along with the sinking home values have left us with a home that is worth less than what is owed. So we will hang onto it for awhile, renting it out.

Back to packing .............

Shaking & Blowing & Floating, Oh My!

2011-09-02T13:01:00.004-04:00

Let's see, where were we, before everything else happened? Oh yes, the MOVE.

Backing up, Mike is off in the wild west - has been for a few weeks now. Life is interesting as a single parent. Certainly many aspects are much easier since my little ones truly aren't little ones. But they aren't grown either. (Remember that kids - you are NOT grown - because I know you are reading this).

So in Mike's absence, as I ~~like a wild woman~~ leisurely inventory and pack our belongings, decide what stays and what goes and what is trashed - so much to be trashed - all other things are crumbling nature wise around us.
And on that note, it's probably a good thing Mike is not here because he is such a pack rat. (I will admit he pales in comparison to his dear mother.) Because you never know when you might need Youth Ministry materials from 1979 or seminary textbooks from 1976 or a 1962 steel guitar. Yes honey, of course I kept the steel guitar. I know it was one the last gifts you ever received from your father before he was killed - but you might have a hard time finding that book on "33 Ice Breakers for Your Next Youth Shindig".

A couple of weeks ago as I sat in the living room at the computer, my chair started to shake. I told my boy who was laying on the floor watching TV to stop shaking my chair. He often unconsciously will do things like that. He claimed innocence, and in fact he was. My girl and her brother were on the couch and she said "Mom, the couch is shaking too". Kids, I think we are having an earthquake. After living in Southern California, my instincts immediately identified it. It was rather mild, more like a gentle rolling instead of the jolting awake throw you out of bed Landers Quake that cause me to permanently loath California. Note to self - does Utah have earthquakes? Check that out. The kids thought it was rather cool.

Next in the line of events was Hurricane Irene. Ahhh, Irene. There was tons of hype here in New England and being a girl from the Texas Gulf Coast, I've seen my share of hurricanes so I don't get in a huge panic over these things. We had flashlights and candles and bread and snack foods and water. I bungee corded the trash can and the pitchback. We were fortunate to not have a lot of damage, although we did lose power for 3 LONG days - just long enough for all my refrigerated food to spoil. I needed to clean out the fridge anyway. But during this event, my van went on a storm search of it's own and I have had in the past few weeks, battery problems, brake problems, and the latest, transmission issues. I suppose it's best to have these all done before the kids and I set out for the wild west come mid October.

As if these events did not throw enough curves, my lovely FRONT loading washer decided for whatever reason, to not drain correctly and also to not lock correctly so that my son, not once, not twice, but three different times opened it to a cascade of water pouring forth - sort of like Fibber McGee's closet, only in H2O form. And no, I am not old enough to remember Fibber McGee and Molly, but I do know the expression. Now my basement oasis has fans going and wet dry vacs running and I certainly needed this to fill my days because I just don't have enough to do.

Oh - and work is super busy with Religious School and the High Holy Days coming up and by the way, school started and I have 8th graders!

To be continued.......

One Thing Leads to Another

2011-08-17T00:36:00.000-04:00

You know what they say - one thing leads to another .....

Well, THIS

Led to THIS

Which led to THIS

Which led to this

And ultimately led to this

Which I especially love having a little one on one time with one of my sweethearts - but not at the expense of a dog bite to the face, piercing his nose.

The truth is, Oreo is not the least bit vicious. My boy was holding her and she started to slip and he repositioned her and she snapped at him. It was most likely a reaction thing, not an aggression thing. She is getting older (7 now) and he either scared her or hurt her. I probably wouldn't have bothered with the doctor except he also had a mystery itchy spots on his leg and I wanted to have it looked at as well. Turns out poison ivy was the culprit. Anyway, they said even though he AND the dog are both up to date on their shots, they recommend antibiotics for a bite to the face.

It's always something.