frazzled & frumpy

Last Friday, we had a birthday.  I was going to post then, but got a little busy.  I've been very moved by cjane's birth stories.  She's a very lyrical writer and makes even the most mundane event seem lovely.  I especially liked her most recent birth , the one where she has the baby at home with her husband doing the delivering. (What?!?  I know.)  So, I thought I'd write this very heart-felt and moving birth story for Max.  See, I didn't write down all of my kids' stories.  This is a bad thing when you have so many.  Their tales have melted into little puddles of memory which run into each other until I can't remember which fact belongs to which story. I hope they forgive me.  Max is an exception.  I remember his birth very clearly.  But, as I wrote his story I realized something. I'm not cjane.   It was boring. And incredibly long. And boring.  So, I wrote it as me, instead. Does this stomach make me look fa...

Pictures on the walls are bright and cheery, belying the reason we're here.  He sits on the table, paper crinkling with each movement.  Legs swing, long and brown, bruises and scrapes a clear indication of his lifestyle.  His hand is ace-wrapped and he places it gingerly in his lap.  Normally bright eyes are red-rimmed and worried. Broken or not. The verdict will determine his near future, the only one he cares about. The thumb is an interesting member.  Small, bent at a strange angle, the ugly step-sister to the other fingers. Yet, so important, vital, to the everyday. If you need to hold, grab, or pinch something, or someone, the thumb is there. It's needed for teeth brushing, coin tossing, buttoning, and giving the ever-popular thumbs up. Overlooked and taken for granted, we don't notice its significance until we lose it. Without this digit, life is a challenge. Simple tasks become complex. For a 3rd grader at the end of the year, it's a mixed ble...

Do you ever look back at your life and think, "Wow. I'm so awesome." ?  Yeah, me, too.  Sometimes, I amaze myself with what a great mom I am. Really, I should  get an award.  Case in point- We were at Sea World a few years ago.  Max was just 20 months old, and being small, he spent a lot of time in the stroller.  All the other kids decided they wanted to ride the big roller coaster, you know, the one that ends with a big splash?  I said I'd stay with Max. Yep, self-sacrificing, that's me.  So, Max and I waved good-bye and waited.  We saw the car leave and listened to the delighted squeals.  I stood behind the stroller at the end of the ride, waiting for Handy Man and the kids.  "Oh, look Max. Here they come." I pointed so he wouldn't miss a thing.  You could hear the screams as it began its speedy decent.  It reached the bottom, and the water, a HUGE wave sprayed up- right toward us! I turned and ran. Leaving my c...

My morning has a routine.  Mostly, I listen.  I listen as the Handy Man gets up and hear the muffled rain in the shower.  Through groggy mist, I hear him move around the house, breakfast, teeth brushing. Then, he kisses me goodbye, all minty fresh.  One of us whispers our wish that he could stay and sleep in with me.  One more kiss and then I hear the rumble of the garage door. Soon after, the sounds of my high schoolers as they get ready for their social games and school work.  A slam of the door is my only goodbye as they rush to the bus.  Two more up and I hear cereal bowls and the soft sounds of Looney Tunes.  I hold my breath, waiting for the sound I don't want to hear. I wait for the hushed-voice-giggles across the hall. Those noises tell me my two youngest are awake.  I hope and pray each morning that slumber will keep them just a  little bit longer.  Once they're awake, the battle will begin. Max is a too-cool-for-school...

Seriously, it is.  You can look it up here . In my life, I've had a total of one x-ray.   My kids have more than made up for that.   One I really wish I had was of Noah's 9 month-old chest, with a penny stuck in his throat.  But, still, I have this one-  This happened 2 years ago at our family reunion. Max fell off some monkey bars.  Here's what it looked like to us. What's worse than that? Having your most active kid in a cast all summer.  We're celebrating today by not having any x-rays done.

Last night I was telling Max his birth story.  I tried to make it entertaining, which wasn't difficult. I sort of skimmed over the part where my water broke, leaving a lovely green stain on my bed. (He had nasty meconium in the water.) I also left out how because of him I was catheterized before my epidural. My husband will attest to how fun  that was for me.  I did tell him that when he came out, he was covered in green (he loved the fact that he'd pooped inside me and that it was green).  He laughed and laughed when I said that the doctor called him the jolly green giant. I'm not sure he appreciated the fact that he was the largest baby my doctor ever delivered, and he'd been delivering for over 30 years.  I told him he was FAT, fat face, fat arms, fat legs, fat, fat, fat. All 13lb. 6oz. of him. He made me retell the part where the newborn diapers didn't fit him and they had to tape two together until they could send someone to buy bigger ones. What a differ...