Today, after preschool, another mom accidentally took my son's witch project from his cubby.  Tonight, at a brownie meeting, she returned it to me.  However, one of the witch's legs fell off.  My son has not gotten the hang of the glue stick yet, and I suspect it was a bit under-glued.  The other mom hands it to me, and apologizes for the missing leg.  "Oh, no worries" I tell her.  "It's fine!" 

 Then my son sees his one-legged witch.  "Where's the other one leg?" He wants to know.  "Well," I explain, "it fell off, but that's okay.  Accidents happen."  

The other mom apologizes again.  "Really, its okay," I tell her.  At which point my sons yells, "IT'S NOT OKAY!  I WANT THE OTHER ONE LEG!!!!" 

So now both the other mom and I are embarrassed.  Now, the perfect mom thing would have been to gently pull him aside and explain that he is entitled to his feelings, but it was an accident and we can fix it later when we get home.  And for me to not be embarrassed.  What did I actually do?  "Hey, you want a lolly pop?" That worked out pretty good too.

After all these stories about my kids I thought it would be fair to tell one on myself.

This happened a while back. It was my third year as a teacher.  I had a class of kindergartners. One day one of them, a boy named Zac, came in very excited.  "Mrs. Buckley, Mrs. Buckley!  You'll never guess what!!  Just outside I saw a bird eating a cricket!"  I thought I would tell him something that he would find interesting and exciting as well.  Maybe even extend his knowledge of things that hunt for food, tying in with the topic of crickets.  "Zac", I told him, "At my house, my cat eats crickets!"  He looked at me dubiously for several seconds.  And then, "Mrs. Buckley, at my house we buy cat food."

This is me carving pumpkins with my kids.  The monkey hair band was from earlier in the day when we played 'spa and beauty parlor'.  The mess in the background is, well, you know... mess.

For Joann!!

I saw this, and I thought of you :)

Buckeye Bars (with a name like that, must be yummy!)

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, softened

3/4 cup crunchy peanut butter

22 nilla wafers, crushed

2 cups powdered sugar

1/2 of an 8 ounce tub Cool Whip whipped topping (do not thaw)

3 squares Baker's semi sweet chocolate

Line 8 inch square pan with foil, with ends of foil extending over sides. 

Beat butter and peanut butter with mixer until blended.  Mix in wafer crumbs.  Gradually add sugar, mixing well after each addition.  Press into bottom of pan.

Microwave cool whip and chocolate in microwavable bowl on high 1 minute.  Stir.  Microwave in  15 or 30 seconds increments until chocolate is melted, stir until blended. Spread over peanut butter.

Refrigerate 2 hours.  Use foil handles to lift desert from pan before cutting to serve.

Declan said today: "Mom! I need help with my jacket, I can't zip it down!"

We zip up our jackets, and then unzip them.  Why not zip it up and zip it down?

When he reads a story he tells me that there is an "ending, and a begending".  Makes sense - begENDing must be the opposite of ENDing!

And also, my clever son knows who is featured on the penny.  Hammerhead Lincoln.

Here he is last Easter.  I know it is a poor quality picture- but it was hard to capture him in action as he colored his eggs.  His unique stye- throw them up into the air, and see if they land in a bowl of dye.

This was a typical long day.  It started off with getting up extra early, to help one of my daughters wash her hair and blow dry. It was school picture day, and her  hair can't be tamed any other way.  Then it was getting 6 kids dressed and out the door by 9.  Four on the bus, 2 in the car for a school field trip to the Pumpkin Patch and Animal Farm in Leesburg.  Spent several hours there, going on a Hayride, going on severl long slides, swings, moon bounces, etc.  We fed animals, we even saw several animals you'd only expect in a zoo.  Then it was lunch at our new Pei Wei (yum! I am reheating my doggy bag right now as I type this). To Target for birthday gifts for 2 parties on Saturday.  Home to meet the bus.  Then the kids went for a bike ride with friends (the 3 year olds included, so I supervised).  Quick dinner.  Quick homework.  Soccer.  Cheerleading- with the 3 year olds in tow, playing on the playground.  Capped off by a 7 pm family night at the school.  Home for baths, stories, toothbrushing and bed.  As we are settling down and talking about our day and all the fun things the boys did on their field trip, I ask my son Collin, "what was your favorite part of the Pumpkin Patch today?"  "The monkey!"  he tells me.  "That's great!" I tell him.  What was another thing that you really liked?"  "The other monkey!"  :) 

 Now I am off to do some busy work for my son's teacher and then clip coupons.  And eat my leftovers!!

Here they are- enjoying those two monkeys!  Not the greatest shots though..  It was hard to get all four monkeys in the same frame and then my digital camera ran out of room.  The sad part is- it holds over 1,000 pictures!!

This is Connor.  He has always been an early riser.  Since he was born I stopped using any kind of alarm clock, because it is always a safe bet Connor will wake us up before we need to be anywhere (this includes a  yearly sunlight service).  So, as usual, this morning Connor comes into my room and tells me he is going to take his shower.  Fine, I mumble to him, in a daze. After his shower he wakes me up again, to help him find his favorite shirt to wear to school.  Okay, fine.  We go through his disaster of a room and start hunting.  We find the shirt, dirty.  So I figure I might have time to do a quick wash and dry so he can wear it.  I go downstairs to look at the clock and throw the shirt into the washer.  It's 3:45 AM.  Apparently he woke up around 3 and figured it was morning.  And none of us noticed that it was really dark for morning!  

mortified

Collin - #5 kid.  

Well, I've been talking a lot about our potty training struggles lately.  This is a related story.  A few days ago my son Collin peed in his shoe.  I don't know why.  I don't really even know how. But he somehow managed this feat (punny!) and then proudly brought me his footwear, filled to the brim.  I tried several different ways to clean his shoe off.  His feet have grown so much he has only one pair right now, plus a pair of sandals.  I sprayed with Febreeze.  I spot cleaned.  I threw those suckers into the washing machine.  Twice.  And this morning, as I took them out of the dryer for the second time, I realized that smell was NOT going to go away.  I went to find his sandals.  I eventually located them- outside by the trampoline soaking wet.  Stinky shoes it was!  I hoped no one would notice the malodor, tied his laces and sent him off to preschoool with a kiss on the cheek (and a reminder to USE THE POTTY!).  At noon I picked them up and headed off to a lunchtime play date.  As we were driving along I glanced over at the art work the boys did today in school.  So cute!  So thematic!  They are studying the holidays - Halloween, and colors- today was white.  This project is so cute I thought I would probably frame it.  And then, realization hit.  Horrible realization.

It's a cute little ghost.  Made from a foot print.

There were many things about being a mom I never figured on.  Things that have surprised me over the last 9 years.  (I am sure there will be more to come.)  One of those things is that nothing is mine.  Not really mine.  Everything in this house -  EVERYTHING -  is fair game.  Why my children would want to play with salad tongs, when there is a room full of toys, I don't know.  But there you have it.  Eyebrow brushes are particularly fascinating.  I have bought about 6 of those guys, and I still don't have one to call my own.  They like to clomp around in my shoes - and then lose one.  Yellow dishwashing gloves are highly coveted. Those little things they put on your baseboards- to keep the door handles from slamming into the drywall?  All removed, in my house.  

So tonight I was helping my oldest daughter (9) with her homework.  Sniff, sniff. "Regan," I ask her, "What is that familiar smell I smell right now?"  

"I don't know.  Could be my lotion."  

"Your lotion?  What lotion is that?"  

"Well, it could be your lotion." 

"Where did you get it from?"  

"Oh...in your room.  In your drawer."  

"You mean the little white jar, with the gold lid?" 

The jar of $65 an ounce skin plumping cream. The jar from the Red Door Salon, that was my present to myself on my birthday.  Guaranteed to fatten out your wrinkles and perfect your skin. (Sort of) 

"Yep.  I was all itchy when I got out of the tub so I put it all over myself.  But it isn't that great.  I didn't even have enough to do all of me plus my feet."

And you know, looking closely at her, she didn't look a day over 7 and a half.

Here she is, looking very young indeed- about a week old. 

I have been working lately to try to get all the kids to be more independent.  With the younger ones in particular, it's potty training. After 9 solid years of changing the diapers of multiples I am ready for the mental and financial break!  Unfortunately, the boys haven't embraced this concept as much as I have.  Yet.  I sat them down and gave them a heartfelt pep talk about how great it is to be a big boy and do big boy things.  I admired their Thomas the tank engine underwear.  I told them how they can do more things with their older siblings, because they are so grown up now.  All the while I wondered exactly how much of my pep talk these little guys were taking in.  Later in the day, my #6 son runs past me and yells, "I gotta go potty!"  And dashes into the bathroom.  Yes!  Success!  I am mentally high-fiving myself and picturing my life becoming easier and easier as my children learn to do for themselves.  My mental celebration was cut short when my son stuck his head out of the bathroom door and said, "MOM!  Come hold my [you-know-what]!"  

This is my 9 year old daughter Regan.  When she was about 3 years old we were having a conversation about different family members, and how each were related to the other. 

 Regan asked me, "Is Connor a boy?"  

"Yes," I told her.  

"And is he your son?"

"That's right."  

"And I am a girl?" 

"That's true." 

"So I am your moon."  

This is the same little girl who couldn't figure out how she had three feet.  A right foot, a left foot and a wrong foot.  Because people kept telling her that her shoe was on the wrong foot.

The other day my oldest (9) year old son told me that he thought he should start carrying a wallet to school now, because, really he is growing up now, and he's responsible, and he should be prepared for whatever comes along, so he should have a wallet with some of his own money it, just in case. "You know," he told me, "like dad and grandad.  Like men do."  So I agreed that this was a good idea.  I asked him if he needed any help and he assured me that he could take care of it on his own.  So this afternoon I checked in his  backpack, to see if he had indeed put the wallet in there, and how much money he was in danger of losing.  And this is what I found.  My grown-up almost a man, responsible boy's wallet.  In case you can't see it- it's a furry wallet with a moose head on it that his cousins from Norway gave him, with two dollars inside. It makes my heart ache with the sweetness of it- him with one foot on each side of the division between little boy and maturity.

We are at a playground one evening.  This particular playground has a rather long row of monkey bars. One row after the next.  Altogether, probably about 20 - 30 feet of monkey bar.  A young man  (older than a teenager, younger than a dad), was there diligently working out. He went the entire length of the monkey bars, hand over hand, swinging gracefully.  He even made those little breathy sounds that people do when they work out. The kind that sound like "Whew!" "Whew!" "Whew!"  When he got to the end of the line of monkey bars he dropped down to the ground and brushed his hands off triumphantly and wiped the sweat from his brow.  Then he turned around and saw my toothless, 45 pound, six year old daughter right behind him.  "Hey look!"  She tells him.  "I followed you the whole way! You know why I am so good at that? Because my mom says I am part monkey, that's why!"  At which point the young man slunk off to his car and drove away without a word.  

I am upstairs, helping my six year olds was their hair. Lauren stands up in the tub and looks out the window.  "Hey mom.  Declan just climbed out the window."  To which I reply, "Don't be silly.  He has not climbed out the window." Ignoring me,  "Hey Devin, look at this.  Declan just climbed out the window."  To which I say, "Stop being silly! You shouldn't say that."  I go downstairs to fetch clean jammies out of the dryer, and sure enough, Declan is not in the sun room where I left him.  I go out on the deck and at this point see Declan playing on the swing set, and Collin climbing out the window.  I ran back into the house and grabbed my camera off the table and snapped these shots.  I swear, in no way was this shot set up or contrived by me.  Although apropos, it was a pure coincidence that the kid was wearing a shirt that says 'my parents are exhausted'.  As for the naked hiney, what can I say.  Collin prefers an unfettered lifestyle.

In their own words...

Last night my number 5 guy was not feeling too well.  He came up to me and said "Mommy, my tummy makes me sad," his way of telling me he had a stomach ache.   I love it when they come up with their own way of seeing the world.

Another great fall day

Soccer on a sunny Sunday :)  

This is my son with his big play of the game, if you can't tell from this horribly blurry shot! It's hard to take a picture when a three year old is trying desperately to pull you toward the port-a-potty for the third time in 30 minutes).  He zipped the ball past the kid in white, and set up his team mate to take the shot and score!   It was a brilliant pass, if I do say so myself!  Apparently (I think) it's called a wall play.  A box play? Whatever it is called, he did it perfectly :)  And it was really cool to see everyone jump to their feet and start screaming about how well he did it- even though he didn't  actually score the goal. It's one of those mom things- knowing that for tonight, your kid falls asleep feeling really good to be himself.  Score!

The finer things

Is there anything better than a golden  Saturday afternoon football game, little girls in cheer leader costumes and perfect fall weather?  Not much, that's for sure.