Summer Break Week 2

Our entire state seems to be ablaze. I took this picture from our upstairs window, just as the sun began to set. Proof that beauty can be found everywhere; even in tragedy.

On a lighter, and much bigger note, take a look at the ginormous egg we got from our backyard hens this week-

Have you ever seen anything like it?  It was "a double" as the boys call it (a double yolk).  Just like my children, my chickens are also gifted.  No surprises there.

Week two of summer break is coming to a close, and I continue to clean constantly.  My house is strewn with wet swimsuits, stray underwear, lone socks (always inside out and curiously wet), soaked towels, bubble wands, kite string, and crumbs from children snacking on the CONSTANT go.

Taken from my mom, I've always tried to maintain a house that could welcome unexpected guests.  Needless to say, the hurricane of boys in and out of my home has weathered me.

However, last night I came across a quote that just may save my sanity -

"Cleaning your house while your children are home is the equivalent to brushing your teeth while eating Oreos."

This is the testimony I so desperately needed to hear.  I have been reborn.

Week one comes to a close....

Our first week of summer break is almost over, and I can't believe how quickly it flew by.

My house has been infiltrated with children from near and far. It's loud, it's even more disheveled than normal, and it's become hard to keep track of who's coming and going.  We always have an extra body (or two...or three....or four) joining us for lunch or dinner, or crashing at our pad for the night. It makes me happy that the boys enjoy bringing their pals to our house. I can only hope they still want to make this their hang out as they get older. A girl can dream, right?

The numbers of children aren't the only things increasing within these walls.  The sum of random stabbings has also hit an all-time high.

Look who's 5!

Happy Birthday to one of the sweetest boys I know.

The last 4 years have been filled with wonder, excitement, fear, imagination, love, adoration, and lots and lots of energy.

Just last week, I read an article that stated the average 4 year old asks 437 questions per day. You ask 632....I counted.

If not for you, I may have gone my entire life without ever dialing 911. Thank you for all of the 'firsts' you have given me.

I love you Bogie - to the moon and stars, and around the world and back again. Happy 5th Birthday! Love, Mommy

Summer Break; Day 3

This is our third official day of summer break, and I want to share what I've learned.

*I spend the day cleaning. No really, I spend the day cleaning. Keeping up after 5 boys, 24 hours a day, is a dirty job. Lucky for them, I'm always close behind, dustpan and disinfectant in hand.

* My boys feel the need to eat ALL. DAY. LONG.  The next person who says "I'm hunnnnngarrrrryyyyyy" goes straight to time out.  Come on, I dare you.

*My children have a band-aid addiction.  Did they ask for band-aids round the clock at school?  Surely they didn't.  We've gone through an entire box in 24 hours.  Though it seems mundane, this topic is high priority at the next family meeting.  I realize I have much bigger fish to fry, but the whole band-aid fixation is making me nutty.  You're not bleeding?  Step away from the band-aids!  Try to sneak one, and you'll find yourself against the wall, alongside the brother who said he was hunnnnngarrrrryyyy.

*We're all getting along wonderfully!  I acknowledge that I most likely just shot myself in the hip.  I really don't want to jinx the camaraderie that is taking place here, I just wanted to brag a little.

*Perhaps the most thrilling news of all is that I can now handle ALL 5 boys at the pool ALL BY MYSELF.  I've taken them 3 times and today I even let them bring a friend.  That's right, 6 boys! Have you any idea how liberating this feels? 

The sprouts and I are having a lovely start to summer break.  If things continue to run so smoothly, I may never send them back to school.

(That was a joke)

I've spent way too much time this week fussin' and wrastlin' with my computer, trying to make it behave.  The recent inability it has to recognize any type of picture has me a bit despondent.

Life (and blogs) without pictures?  I don't think so.

This here's a test to determine just who won the wrestling match.

Attempt #1......

Fail.

Attempt #2.....

Well what do you know?! If only you could hear my shrieks of victory! (I got this picture to post in a very round-a bout way, but it's here....for the world to see.....and that's all that matters.)


This is our Priest, Father Alvaro, straightening Luke's tie on the day he made his First Communion.





And this is the two of them....tie straightened.











We now have two boys who have made the sacrament of First Communion. Three more to go. We love our Luke, we love First Communion (it's truly one of my most favorite days), we love our church, and we love Father Alvaro.

Life is good.

(I still can't believe I got a picture to post. I'm hitting 'send' before this computer decides to self-destruct.)

Oh where, oh where have I been?

Not even I can answer that question.

But I can tell you that I am wrapping up my college career (for now), my boys are wrapping up their current year of school, t-ball and football have begun, and my computer has the bubonic plague.

According to a trusty medical encyclopedia, the bubonic plague can be categorized as such:

A severe and potential deadly bacterial infection where symptoms appear suddenly (2-5 days after exposure).  Symptoms include chills, fever, seizures, and a general feeling of being ill.

Yep, it's an exact match.  That's precisely what my computer has.  And though it received treatment, I think it may have been too late.  She's still having frequent seizures, and her brain is less than half of what it used to be.

I feel good knowing I did all I could to prevent this from happening.  Apparently, not even technological vaccinations could have kept this nasty virus away.  This little beast got me through school, and I'll be sad to see her go.  Hang in there, old girl.  Only 12 weeks left, then you shall rest in peace.

On a brighter note, I stood at my kitchen window, transfixed on this little fellow for 25 minutes this morning. 

Only a woodpecker can instantly make me feel like I'm 6 again.

I remember traipsing through the tulips on hot summer days, listening to the woodpeckers in my grandma's never ending yard.  Most of my cousins were boys, and had officially banned me from their fort in the bushes, their club in the tree house, and their treasure trove in the sandbox.

(And they question why I always tattled.  Shame on them.)

With not much to do and not many to play with, I wandered and listened.  The sound of the woodpeckers was one of the most treasured harmonies I had ever heard.

What seems like racket to some, is a melody to others.

(Despite my efforts, my debilitated computer will not let me upload pictures to my blog.  I'm sad that you won't get to see the amazing pics of my new woodpecker friend.  Really, what's a blog without pictures?  This could get ugly.)

Back in the saddle...

Yesterday was one of the most amazing days of my life.  It went somewhat like this-

Hubby tells me he has arranged a 'surprise' for me.  Hubby goes on to say it's an all-day surprise that does not involve the sprouts. 

My mind starts spinning.  If you know me well, you know I hate surprises.  Hate is the wrong word.  I loath them.  Despise them.  Entirely.

I begin asking questions such as:

Who is watching the kids?

How long will we be gone?

Where will this take place?

What should I wear?

Can we afford this?

Does this involve white water rafting, bungee jumping, or anything else I wouldn't do?

He refuses to answer.  His silence enrages me.  I begin to piss on his parade.  I spend the morning returning the silent treatment and grumpily packing bags for the boys. 

Very, very grumpily.  (is that a word?)

We pull up to my mom's, kiss the boys and head out.  20 minutes into our silent ride, he reveals the destination - Estes Park.  A smile begins to creep it's way onto my face, but I suppress it.  Oh how I wish I were normal.

We arrive in Estes and the smell instantly reverts my memory to childhood.  No place on earth smells more heavenly.  I'm beginning to crack.

As we eat our lunch, I decide to go ahead and halt the abuse I've been unfairly making him endure.  He's worked hard to make this happen. 

We've got less than 30 minutes left until we 'check in' at our destination, and I make a pinky promise with myself to make the last few minutes enjoyable.  I do my best to stop acting like a jerk.

Is there help for people like me? 

We leave the restaurant and pull up to this sign-

It's now that I really feel like an ass (no pun intended).

Meet Whisky.....MY HORSE for the next two hours.

I'm in instant love, and starting to conjure a plan for squeezing her into our car without being noticed.

We saddled up...

And headed out.

The next two hours were full of this...

and this...

and this...

(Look at that wagon.  It's as if someone placed it there just to tease me.)



My boots have never been so happy.

To my amazing husband-

Please forgive me.

And just like that....spring break is over.  The car ride to the bus stop Monday morning was a solemn one.  Two weeks of being at home with no schedule to follow, no homework, and the most BEAUTIFUL weather a boy could ask for was easy to get used to.

SO EASY

I admit it.  I couldn't help but get teary-eyed watching Evan and Luke get on the bus that morning.  Though we didn't travel anywhere, and we didn't really do much of anything, we had a fun time just being lazy with one another.

However, when the boys weren't being lazy with each other, they occupied their time like this-

"He stole my toy!"

"He stuck his tongue out at me!"

"But he stuck his out first!"

"He won't play what I want to play!"

"He said I'm not his favorite brother anymore!"

"He said I don't know how to play basketball....and I DO!"

I started counting their tattles, but lost my cool at 982.....so I stopped.

Oh TATTLE MONSTER, where have you been the past 11 years?

What's that you say?  Someone stuck their tongue out at you?  That's horrible!

But I don't want to hear about it.  Go tell the Tattle Monster.

He took a piece of your gum without asking?  Bummer, dude!

But I don't want to hear about it.  Go tell the Tattle Monster.

That's right.  Unless you've got a bone protruding, blood dripping, or some other form of injury, don't come crying to me.  Tell your tattle to the Monster himself. 

The basket on top of the shelf has little 'tattle-size' papers (perfectly sized and cut by moi), as well as markers, in a rainbow of colors.....depending on what kind of tattling mood you may be in at the time.

During dinner, we gather the days' tattles and the man of the house (yes, hon.....I'm referring to YOU!) reads them aloud.

We talk a wee bit about the tattles, crumple them up, and FORGET ABOUT THEM!

But wait!

There's more!

GOOD TATTLES are also graciously accepted!  In fact, if you are lucky enough to receive a good tattle in the form of-

"He helped me clean up my room!"

or

"He shared his candy with me!"

(or anything similar to that)

You'll be the lucky recipient of a small token of appreciation, donated by Mom & Dad. 

Though it's only day three, it's working like a charm! The written tattles are hilarious to read, and the boys are realizing that some tattles just aren't worth writing.

I'm in tattle bliss.

*please note that this is not an Amy original.  I stole the idea from pinterest, of which I'm hopelessly addicted. 

 

Judge Away

If all women were judged by the contents of their purse, I shudder to think what mine declares.

Record Breaker

Oh Jack....

If only you were more nimble.

If you ask Jack, he'd tell you he's happy to be the first of five boys to break a bone.  It's true.  The title makes the last 7 days of pain worth it.

Well, kinda.

Jack Jack.  Jack-A-Lack.  Lacky.  Lacky Lou.  Lackish.  Jackers-

We know you're always up for entertaining others.  Wowing a crowd by dancing on a table and showing your tricks has always been your thing.

We're not asking you to stop entirely, just tone it down a bit.  When you feel like jumping, jump from the first step, not the 8th. 

The next four weeks may seem to take forever.  But we'll make it through. Promise.