No Explanation Needed.

(I'm jumping around a bit. I need to find the time to write part two of the last post. Trust me, you do need to read about what Logan did. I just can't seem to find more than 32 seconds these days. I'll post it....soon. Promise)

Luke begged me to make sugar cookies today. He didn't ask early this morning, he waited until an hour before school. It wasn't something I had planned on doing, and it certainly wasn't something I thought we would have time to complete. So we hustled. We gathered, measured, mixed, rolled and baked. And guess what? We even had time to decorate and EAT!

As Luke shoved the last morsel of his crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside, dripping with frosting that is melting from the fresh-from-the-oven cookie into his mouth, he muttered this:

"MNNPFFF MOOKKY MMMASSTTESS MWWWWIKE MMMEESUS"

Translation-

"This cookie tastes just like Jesus. Jesus is SO very, very good, right Mom?"

My boys have taught me that the best things in life happen without an agenda.

You rock, Luke.

Pictures say a thousand words.

If you've wondered how my week has been going, think no more. If I wanted to, I could easily omit all text within this post and just show you pictures. In it, you would find that things have been quite normal with the Gang Of Seven.

But writing calms my nerves, so you get text, too. Where shall I begin...?

Let's start with this scenario. I'm running behind my daily schedule (imagine that) and have less than 20 minutes to coax the boys indoors, feed them lunch and get Luke off to school. Let me add that coaxing them in will prove to be next to impossible as it is the first time it's been warm enough to play outside for more than one week.

Lucky for me, they all came the first time I called to them. I can smell trouble from a mile away.

As they approach the back door, I hear a soft, little voice through the open kitchen window...

"Mom, don't be mad. It was an accident."

I open the door and see this:

As the culprit sits tight for further interrogation, he adds....

"You should really be mad at Jack, mom. When I threw the mud on him, he ate it."

But that was nothing compared to what our little angel, Logan, did two nights ago.

No, it wasn't that he colored on the wall and all over our light switch. (That is a daily occurrence.)

Stay tuned. Part two continues tomorrow.

Not For The Squeamish.

It began just like any other day.

5 boys awake before the sun had finished rising.

5 grumpy, sleepy boys heading downstairs. Some in their pj's, some dressed in clothes. Some sporting diapers that sagged to their knees.

5 hungry boys begging for 5 different things for breakfast.

One mom doing her best to please.

And the morning led it's way to early afternoon just like that. Then the boys asked for popcorn. Another daily ritual. One that ends with the usual popcorn fight or the brotherly battle of who can toss popcorn into the sky and catch it in their mouth. My floor proudly displays the truth...no one can! I pulled out the vacuum and began to clean the battlefield that was once known as my family room floor.

Then I heard it. The blood-curdling scream that unmistakably means a child is injured.

I leaped up the stairs and met Jack halfway.

Dangling from his finger was Robin, our pet gerbil. Robin had clamped so hard onto Jack's finger, that his teeth were actually stuck. That's right. Those yellowy, curvy, nasty, rodent teeth were embedded in my child's tiny, adorable, little digit.

Blood was dripping and Jack was screaming. No time to stop and asess. No time to think. I sprang into action and did what any adrenaline-charged mother would do. I squeezed and pulled and finally freed my son. After a call to the pediatrician, we were able to stop the bleeding. No shots and no stitches. All things considered, it ended nicely.

Robin would tell you differently. If only he could.

2009. Reflections and lessons learned.

In 2010, I promise to.....

Eat more milkshakes.


Feed more ducks.

Do more lineups. (Much faster than individual interrogation.)

Buy more tubs of worms. Best way to spend $2.00.

Catch more butterflies.

Make my boys wear ties to church more often.

Try harder not to laugh when my children are crying for me through a glass window.

Explore more.

Chase more bubbles.

Do my best not to cry when things get covered in chocolate.

Try to regain use of my countertops and cookie sheets.

Take more naps in the sun.

Build more forts.

Belly laugh more often.

Read more.

Follow the footprints and kiss the culprits.

HAPPY 2010!

Back To Reality.

Derek is back at work and I am home with my 5 wild Indians.

Another year is almost behind us. Yesterday, the boys dismantled the tree while I tackled the thousands of remaining decorations strewn throughout the rest of the house. I saved the mantle for last. There's something about taking stockings down that makes my heart ache. I love looking at each child's stocking and thinking about the magic that it holds each and every year . Maybe I just like seeing their names so many times throughout the day. It helps me remember what to call them. Whatever the reason, I despise the task.

As I started to remove the cranberries and snowflake lights, I quickly abandoned ship. I renamed them winter lights and there they shall stay until winter is over. Mantles are meant for lights. A lit mantle = a warm home and it's my New Year's resolution this year to keep mine lit at all times. (Don't worry, mom, I'll unplug them at night so as not to start a fire). Here is a picture of my winter lights....

I was hoping for a relaxing day. The boys have more urgent things on their agendas. Evan wants to create a volcanic explosion in the kitchen sink. Luke wants to bake pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. Jack, Logan and Wes will happily join in any activity.

Luke just told me he is asking for a "Febreze Flameless Luminary" for his birthday. Then he told me to "wash the baby, cuz he smells bad." Wes just awoke from his morning nap, and he does smell a little spitty. I love when my boys wake up after sleeping in a puddle of drool. I could kiss their slimy, spitty, after-nap cheeks all day. It's calming to me. Makes me wonder what they dreamt about.

Is that normal? Probably not. Do I care? Not really. I have more important things to worry about. Like.....what is the best possible way to create a volcanic explosion that will make my boys proud?

Christmas Eve Eve

"Christmas Eve Eve!!!!!!" is the text message I received from Declan bright and early this morning. Christmastime always brings back fond memories of when I was a child. I look at my boys and soak up the joy they share with each other. I am grateful to have shared the same things with my brother.

Last week Logan coerced Wes into opening a present from under the tree. "Good boy, baby Wes!" followed by a long rip of paper was all I heard. It made me think of times when Dec and I would peek inside our presents. We mastered the art of re-wrapping at a very early age.

The boys were thrilled this week when they received a package from Santa's special elves in San Francisco. They were even more thrilled to find the words "Don't wait until Christmas!" written on the front. Together, they opened the first gift of the season and found this:



It has quickly become their new favorite book. Every parent out there needs to buy a copy ASAP. If Santa's special elves in San Francisco are reading, I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you. Behaviorally speaking, this gift came at a time of despair and need. Unbeknownst to my children, this was more of a gift to moi, than to them. Na na na na na!!

Jack has been busy dressing like Santa from sunup to sundown. We all take turns sitting on his lap, expressing our Christmas wishes. He even hands out candy canes. Last night I sat on his lap and was told that one of my "pwesents" had been removed from the sleigh. Apparently, Santa felt I had been unfair in my attempts earlier that day to force him to nap. He told me I made him "angwy". Lesson learned.

We woke up to a fresh blanket of snow this morning. Nothing like a white Christmas! The boys were eager to play and flew into the back yard right after breakfast.

When things got too cold and soggy, they played cops and robbers in the garage. I loaded their guns over, and over, and over. The scent of the smoky caps permeated into the house. Another perk of having boys....cap gun smell. Oh how I love it.

Too small for cap guns, Wes spent the morning playing tug-o-war with the puppy. After that, he stripped off his clothes and watched the snow fall from the front window. He enjoys being one with nature.

Logan stuck a seashell up his nose during breakfast. He'll be the first I have to bail out of jail.

All this and it's only 11:00AM.

Mermy Crimmas, Everyone!

Love,

Amy

Forgiveness

It's been a rough week.

One that has made me neglect the normal routine and daily activities that my boys and I look forward to. One that has made me feel like a bad mom.

Today I thought I'd make it up to them the best way I know how. I found the biggest balls I could find. One for each neglected boy. The kind of balls that are only allowed outdoors.

Then we had ourselves a game of dodgeball....indoors.

I made sure that they stood at the top of the staircase. Gravity would assist them with their aim.

I stood at the bottom and took the blows.

They laughed....HARD.

I smiled....BIG.

(They have better aim than I thought.)