Eibhlin's "Creative Dance" Winter Showcase

Here is one of the videos of Eibhlin at her dance showcase last week (on 10 December 2008)...this fantastic performance will bring all sorts of tears to your eyes- tears of pain, joy, pride, laughter....
Enjoy!

Here is another clip of the diva in action, this time performing her recently learned ballet moves to the tune of "The Twelve Days of Christmas".




And finally, a foot stomping edition of "Bippity Boppity Boo"....

Taidhgin-san

Taidhgin competed in his first Inner Dojo Tournament tonight. The students compete against each other as practice for regular tournaments and also as a chance to earn "credits" with the dojo that are entered in a raffle. Anyway, you may not know that Taidhgin is the youngest in his class. He is enrolled in the 6-12 class, not the 3-5 class, and the next youngest kids are at least a year older than him. In tonight's competition, he was up against kids who were almost two years older than him. He held his own, did the best he could do, and came in second place for his "age" group (of which he was the ONLY five year old). Here is a video of one of his rounds....



I know it may not seem like much or appear all that impressive, but he has made huge gains since August- both physically and mentally- and tonight he proved it. He sat up there in front of over 20 classmates, in front of three senpais and a shihan, in front of easily two dozen parents and siblings....and never even once broke a sweat. Even when he forgot the next move of his kata, he paused to remember- held his position in the meantime- then moved on when he remembered what came next.

As much as I miss the little baby he was and I couldn't be more proud of the little boy that he is now, I watched the little man in him tonight and know that we are doing right by him so far. My job now is to make sure that the confidence and determination that I saw tonight remains an integral part of who he is and who he becomes. There are adults out there that would have broken in front of that crowd, but my little peanut kept right on going...not a tear, not a cry, nothing but grit. That's my boy...

And that silver medal for his work on his Kia Ni Ju Go? Well, it's hanging right next to the Principal's Medal he earned for being such a nerd. Who says you can't be well rounded at five?

Atticus Finch Would Be Proud

So I had one of my first "Holy Shit, What Did My Child Just Say?" moments tonight. Eibhlin and I were in line at Wal-Mart, waiting patiently as our checker scanned our goods. Slowly. Oh so slowly.

Eibhlin was sitting in the cart, handing me items to put on the belt, when all of a sudden she leaned in and (loudly) whispered, "She's fat!"...she, of course, would be our SO SLOW checker.
I shushed her as subtly as possible; I put my finger to my mouth in the universal symbol for "SHUT UP!" and "Shhhhhhhh"-ed her as quietly as I could. Our checker, fortunately, didn't hear- at least I don't think she did. At least I HOPE she didn't.
And that was the end of that, I thought.

On the way home, Eibhlin asked me why she wasn't allowed to say that someone was fat. Hmmmm....how DOES one explain that to a three year old girl without 1) talking over her head or 2) giving her the beginning of her own weight complex?

Here's how our conversation went from there:

ME: You shouldn't tell someone that they are fat because it makes people feel bad when you say that.
EIBHLIN: Why?
ME: Well, because for some people, being fat is not a good thing. And if they are unhappy about being that way, then having someone say something about it makes them even more unhappy.
EIBHLIN: Hmmm. Can I ever say it?
ME: No, Eibhlin. You really shouldn't. Just because someone is bigger than you, or mom, or dad, or anyone else doesn't mean you can say that to them. It's just not very nice.
EIBHLIN: What does it do if I say that?
ME: It hurts their feelings, honey.
EIBHLIN: (crying) Oh, you mean it hurts her heart.
ME: Yes, baby, that's exactly what I mean...
EIBHLIN: (crying even more now) Oh, I am so sorry I said that, Mommy. I didn't want her to feel bad...I am so sorry I said it.

Of course I consoled her and let her know that it was okay, that she hadn't made anyone's heart hurt, and that she is, hands down, the best damn three year old in the world.

Who says pre-schoolers can't figure out how to try on someone else's shoes and walk around in them for a bit?

Tag, I'm It

This is not at all related to what I normally post, but I am a good sport (despite the fact that there are several people out there who would vehemently beg to differ), so here it goes...

I was "tagged" by Misty; the following post is done out of friendship (you SOOO owe me, Misty!-ha ha):

1. Misty is the super cool mom of one of Taidhgin's school chums...we met a couple years ago and got along well immediately. Sadly, we never get to see each other because she works crazy overnight hours and is now spending her off time getting ready to move -TRAITOR! Anyway :-)

2.Fact 1: Beard and mustache hair left in the sink makes me nauseous.
Fact 2: I won a pie eating contest once upon a time; I ate what felt like a thousand cherry pies...and I have never been able to muster the courage to eat even a slice of one since.
Fact 3: I miss the mountains in UT more than I miss almost anything.
Fact 4: I want more gray hair.
Fact 5: My parents once made me wait at the school bus stop for what seemed like hours because they refused to turn on the radio and hear what everyone else in the free world had heard that day....that school had been cancelled because of the SNOW and the COLD.
Fact 6: I was a vegetarian (and sometimes vegan) for a long time...until one St Patty's Day I had far too much to drink and decided that what I was really in the mood for was a burger from Wendy's...and that's all she wrote. Those damned square patties get me every time!
Fact 7: I am a big nerd.

3. Tag, YOU'RE it!
Pam
Chelsea
Sylvia
Kera
Annette
Micky
Jeanette :-)

4. Done.

They Are So Much Smarter Than Me

Taidhgin is smart, but he is also one of the laziest and most apathetic kids that I have ever met. I know this is very much thanks to me, so I am doing my best to get him to hold his own, especially when it comes to being responsible for his own actions and for paying attention when people are talking to him. However, he is ever ingenious despite his lethargy; the following is the kind of dialogue that occurs when he has no interest in what I am saying but knows he is supposed to be listening anyway.

As we were driving home from Target late this afternoon, I asked Taidhgin what he thought about my plans for the rest of the evening:
"How about we go home, I will make dinner while you guys draw and play, then after dinner we can think about going to the park...what do you think?"

*SILENCE*

"Taidhgin, did you hear me? Are you listening?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom, but I didn't hear you. It wasn't me, though."

"What do you mean it wasn't you?"

"I was listening, but my ears weren't."

Absolute genius. He has taken responsibility, agreed that he was at fault, and has still managed to provide an airtight alibi for appears to be HIS crime. Damn, he's good.

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Anyone who knows Eibhlin knows that there is a little mom in there; not in the coddling, play-baby-dolls way, but in the FT Mom/FT CEO "I Can Manage/Research/Defend Your Case While I am at My Child's Dance Recital" kind of way. This side of her has been right on top this week, and so I have gotten to see a lot of my "Little Mommy".

One night last week, Eibhlin and I went out to run some errands together. She brought her purse (filled with a Princess flashlight, an old cell phone, and a pen- all the basic necessities!) and her baby (I believe it was either Mariposa or Miss Gloria). Our first stop was Steve & Barry's where I proceeded to buy some pants that fit and some clothes for the kids...and where Eibhlin spent nearly 45 minutes pacing, humming, and patting in the hopes of "putting the baby to sleep". I was flipping through the racks of clothes looking for my size (it would be so much easier if I was a size 12 and TALL!) and out of the corner of my eye I was watching "Mommy" take care of her child...
The baby was up on her left shoulder, she had her clutch purse draped over her left forearm, and she was patting the baby's bum with her right hand. She never stopped moving, she never stopped humming, but she was able to do all this AND look for the 4T's on the hangers at the same time. I joked with her all night about how her crying baby was driving me nuts and how I was one "MiMi" glad to be done with infancy...

So this afternoon, another baby (Miss Stephanie this time- have I mentioned that many of her dolls are named after the women in her life?) was crying endlessly. Poor Eibhlin was walking and patting and pacing to no avail. She finally turned to me and told me that she was done, that is was time to bring her baby into her room to try to put her to bed..."So she doesn't drive you nuts anymore, Mom, okay?"

That girl is the best.Does she look out for her mom or what?

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No overview of life with my children would be complete without some horror story, I mean, tale of love and fun involving my youngest child.

I have made no bones about his language "skills", but he is getting better and he is pretty game to learn how to pronounce words and say new things. But oooh is he a ball buster! As with many young children, especially those at the front side of their language development, he has learned far more animal "sounds" than he has names of animals. Slowly but surely, though, he is learning to refer to the animals by their names, not by their sounds. There is one animal, however, that I honestly believe he refuses to name not because he can't, but rather because he knows it has become a hot button with me and he just loves to push and push.

"Nay." A rather benign word/ sound. And oh-so-cute when your child first uses it to refer to those big, beautiful, amazing creatures known to the rest of us as "horses". For months now I have been trying to get Connlaodh to say "horse" instead of "nay". For a long time the problem was truly his inability to come up with the right sounds; he would get the mouth shape correct but nothing would come out even vaguely similar to "horse". Now, however, the sounds are accessible and so I have been working diligently to get him to use them. Here is a typical conversation between me and the little turkey:

(Imagine us looking at a book filled with animal pictures...after running through several, I point at the horse)
"Connlaodh, what is this one?"
"Nay."
"That's what it SAYS...but it is a horse. Can you say horse?"
"Oss."
"Good try. Can you look at me while I say it? Horse. Can you say it now?"
"Hoss."
"Very good...(pointing back at the picture) now this is a horse, Connlaodh. What is this animal?"
"A Nay."

The bastard.

:-)

Three Words Can Change the World

"Oook. Ouch. Eeez."

I am sure the above means nothing to any of you. In fact, I am sure you are wondering how it was that I let the obvious misspellings go unnoticed by Blogger's spellcheck. However, the above is not a case of mistyping; it is, in fact, Connlaodh's latest move to communicating like a child and not like an infant.

For those of you who don't know, Connlaodh had tubes put it in his ears when he was 13 months old because he had been more or less deaf for the 8 months prior. His language acquisition has been terribly delayed because of this; he understands everything, but his speaking ability is hindered. He has made great gains over the last few months, but really, to everyone else, his words sound like grunts. To those of us who have been listening, though, the difference is there. Tonight's "Oook. Ouch. Eeez" was said through tears. He was bawling in my arms, pointing out the door. What could he possibly have been looking for?

"Oook" = book. Connlaodh has a few books that he will read endlessly now, and he was holding one of them in his arms...
"Ouch" = the couch, of course, as it is our favorite place to read!
"Eeez" = please!

He so badly wanted to stall bedtime by reading just one more book. And while it was incredibly sad to watch, it was such a relief to actually be able to understand what he wanted! Aaron read him a book (on his bed, not the couch, though), and little man was calmed and snuggled shortly thereafter.

Actions may speak LOUDER than words, but it is amazing how infrequently you need to be loud when you have the right words to use.

On the Eve of "Big Kid"-dom...

A few weeks ago I was talking to my dad about how amazed I was that Taidhgin was starting kindergarten this year..."Where has all the time gone? He is so old! It seems like only yesterday I was changing his diapers," I cried. My dad, who pulls no punches, turned around and said, "Yeah, someone just told me that MY baby would be turning 33 soon. How the hell did THAT happen?"

How the hell DOES that happen? Seriously, the idea of Taidhgin, Eibhlin, or Connlaodh turning ten makes my stomach churn- how does 33 happen to one's kids? Don't get me wrong, I want my children to grow up, become productive citizens and be happy adults, but isn't it supposed to take one year at a time? Why does the life of a child feel like dog years to their parents? I swear it has been a year since I brought him home but the loose tooth and fixation on Ben 10 and video games proves me wrong...

Tomorrow Taidhgin turns five. He was born on a Monday and tomorrow will be the first time since then that his birthday has fallen on a Monday Five years ago this moment we were packing up the dogs to bring them to the I-20 Medical Center since we were heading off to the hospital soon and didn't know when we would be back. I was wearing a pink sleeveless maternity shirt, black maternity yoga pants, and pink/ black/ white flip-flops. My hair was almost as short as it is now, I was very tan, I had just turned 28. Every detail is permanently etched into the ever so fragile gossamer of memory that I have left...from the way my rose of sharon's were in bloom to the music that was playing on the radio to the fact that I remember being on the phone with my cousin, tracking my contractions while she prattled on and one, dying to tell her what I was doing but not wanting to just in case it wasn't the real thing.

We waited until my contractions were "close"- they were right at about 5 minutes apart (and, as mothers of more than one know, five minutes apart is nothing with babies 2 and then some...hell, at five minutes apart with Eibhlin I was putting on make up and with Connlaodh I was still sleeping!) so I was anxious and nervous and fidgety and ready to go- and the excitement I felt as we headed up Matlock Road toward Arlington Memorial was overwhelming. What would this baby be like? Who would he look like? What color would his hair be? Would he like to read? Would he like broccoli? Would he play sports? Would he sing bass? Would he be tall or short? Would he be a scrawny little chicken or a big ol' moose? WHO would he be?

By 11:45 the next morning (given time for a weigh-in and a wipe down post delivery), we had a few of those questions answered. Taidhgin Dante Fitch Steele was just over 7 lbs, just over 20" long- no big winner there...and not much has changed- ha ha. He had dark hair then, light hair now. He does like broccoli. He probably will not sing bass- tenor, if anyone will take him in their choir, that is. He will probably play a sport that doesn't involve a team effort, though more than likely he will play on the chess team instead of the soccer team. He likes to read as long as he can take a break after a page or two. After just short of five years, as you can see, we have managed to answer most of our initial questions. That last one, the all important one, remains to be seen....and, if I am lucky, I will be around long enough to see him come closer and closer to the real truth of who he is.

We celebrated Taidhgin's fifth birthday today at the Y with a great group of 20+ kids and a handful of adults. The pool at the Y was a hit among all age groups and the kids just had a great time hanging out with each other. Other than one lone whine about an "unshared" pair of goggles, there was nary a complaint from the under 10 or over 20 crowd (the ones in the middle are at that age where they will whine about anything, so I ignored them altogether).

There are lots of pics of the party on our Kodak site (check out the link on the left), but I will post some here, as well...only after I once again use this forum to reflect on just how much we need to appreciate what we are given in our children.

I began by talking about five years ago, let me end by talking about today. Today I watched one of Taidhgin's best friends lose his first tooth. I know, I know...you are saying, "So what? Every kid loses their teeth?" But I am retarded and thought it so poignant that I got all emotional and acted like an idiot. Why oh why would the sight of a space where a tooth once stood set me off? Because I can remember losing my own teeth, and in my head I was so old- such a BIG kid- and while I know that I am not every person now, surely in that sense back then I was every child. And if my baby loses his tooth, does not a part of his innocence and childhood fall out with it? With every millimeter that new adult tooth creeps upward, isn't it also my son creeping that much closer to being an adult? So maybe my reaction to poor Quincy's tooth loss was less a mourning for the tooth (and Quincy's obvious discomfort with the subsequent hole in his gum) and more a mourning of the hole that will one day be in his mother's heart, the day Quincy walks out the door, bags in hand, and sets off to be who HE is. Far-fetched, perhaps, but if you have read this far in and have read even one other post, then you probably already assumed I would make a leap such as this one. But I digress...my point is that maybe this means that we as parents should stop thinking about that future for our own child- who he/she WILL be- and start spending that much more time on who he/she IS now. And maybe that means that when Taidhgin's front tooth (oh, yes- the one that is wiggling as we speak) makes its journey out of his mouth and into his tooth pillow, I will place a quarter in the pocket of the pillow, remove the tooth,wipe a tear from my eye, and remember that he still has 19 of those suckers yet to come out before he can call himself grown.

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Now for a couple of pics...feel free to hit up our Kodak site to check out the other ones from today and the rest from yesterday, too!

Sorry. No words for this one. :-)



What kind of a wish does a 5 year old make?

The Highpointe Boys.

The September Babies

More tomorrow, but for now...happy birthday(s) to us.

Babysitting and Fishing

Before I go into the lesson of the day- ha ha- let me just brag on baby boy for a bit. My little "Re Re" (if you don't know what this means, please don't ask- it is just too mean to share) has been mumbling his way through life for 20 months now. The poor kid couldn't hear for more than half of the first year of his life, so his ability to gauge sound is definitely developmentally behind. However, in the last two weeks his vocabulary has exploded, as has his ability to enunciate and speak clear enough for even a stranger to be able to make out what he is saying. Don't get me wrong, we're not talking sentences here, but he has absolutely surpassed "Re Re" in terms of language, is well on his way past "Mushmouth", and is creeping up to being on target for his age. Go, Connlaodh!

Lessons of the day...
As always, I am amazed both by my children in and of themselves and also by just how much of the world they allow me to see through their eyes and actions. Just when I feel myself safely cocooned inside my bubble of automaton adulthood, one of them does something so mundane, so trivial, yet so new when done by them that I am given cause to pause, review, and either shudder because they have hit so close to a sad or bitter truth or laugh because their actions are so clean and so innocent, and so FULL of truth.

Today we were at the Museum of Nature and Science in Dallas (by the way, for you Fort Worth snobs out there- the Fair Park complex blows Fort Worth away...as much as I love Cowtown - and you know I do- I just don't get the need to blow off South Dallas in favor of the Stockyards and cobblestone streets...anyway...). Damn, again I digress. Have I mentioned yet that I have this terrible habit of starting three conversations at once and never finishing any of them? As always, I blame the children. Okay, where was I....? Oh, yes. The Museum in Fair Park.

So we ramble through the exhibits upstairs, unearthing fossils and making giant bubbles, and finally reach the stairs to head down to the Children's Museum (which is, in fact, the entire bottom floor of the Museum of Nature and Science)...this is always the highlight of the trip, as the Children's Museum has everything from fire trucks to farms to baby dolls to bugs- fun for the whole family! We spent several hours down there, playing in the water, climbing the rock wall, etc. Anyway, Eibhlin and I spent some time with the baby dolls in the house area- we fed them, patted them, swaddled them, and had a grand ole time reliving the last five years of my life- ha ha. I decided to put my "baby" down and head on into the next room- the living room- for a few minutes of "me" time, complete with little plastic couch and little board books. We're talking serious R & R. Eibhlin said she would follow soon, so I went into the next room and sat down.

I was there, alone, for quite some time. I peeked through the "window" between rooms and could see Eibhlin- she was sitting on the floor. Now, I want you to visualize the scene as I saw it. Eibhlin was on the floor, in front of a cradle, sitting with her legs up to her chest and with her left arm resting on her knees. Her right arm was off to the side and behind her, her right hand inside the cradle, patting the "baby" inside. She was not looking at the baby or at me; Eibhlin was staring at the ceiling, quietly singing a lullaby.
I said, "Eibhlin, are you okay?"
She sighed and shushed me, "Shh, she is not asleep yet. I will be in there when she's asleep, okay?"
I, being the moron that I am asked, "WHO is not asleep?" Really, could I be any dumber? Duhh...
"The BABY is still awake and if I leave she will cry. I need to pat her. SHHHH," and Eibhlin turned her eyes back to the ceiling and continued to sing.

Now this was not a little girl playing "dolls", nor was this a little girl playing "Mommy". What I saw, sitting on that floor, was me and every other woman who has ever been exasperated by a baby who would not settle down. I saw me at 2 am with Eibhlin as an infant, when she was screaming bloody murder until she would pass out...I saw my sister-in-law and brother passing off their squeaky three month old when she wouldn't stop squealing unless she was moving...I saw woman after woman do what they needed to, and often unconsciously, in order to make sure their baby was tended to, no matter how hard it was. I saw my little girl as a mother, in those few moments, and realized (yet again) that the teacher in her life who will have the most impact on who she becomes is the one with whom she spends the most time, sees in context the most often. And again, I have been reminded that no matter what I feel, how tired I am, how frustrated I may be, no matter how much I have to do, etc., etc., she is dependent upon me- us- to show her what is right and what is wrong. In a very weird way I was proud of what I saw today, because though it reminded me of those moments of sheer exhaustion that I am not exactly sad to never relive, I saw in her the persistence and love necessary as a mother to make it through those moments well enough to be able to do them all over again and again.

(A few hours later)

The kids napped for a while after the Museum and finally woke up in time for dinner. Taidhgin was so upset when he woke up because we had decided to go fishing before dinner, and here it was dinner time and we wouldn't be able to go. He was so upset, in fact, that I broke down and told him we could go for just a little bit right AFTER dinner. So that is what we did...

We packed up the rod and tackle box, hopped in the truck, and headed down to the duck pond. Eibhlin came along for the ride and the three of us were ready and raring to go. Personally, I was absolutely terrified of actually catching something- I had no wire cutter, no pliers, no gloves- just me, two kids, and some power bait. Some of you are laughing, I am sure, about how I don't actually need those other items. However, I have serious issues with fish hook removal (and holding a fish without a glove) courtesy of the sunny who cut up the inside of my dad's hand one day when I was barely 8 or 9. So I have this deep and grave concern over little tiny fish causing me to gush rivers of blood- you will just have to forgive my one terribly silly fear. If I have gloves, I am golden. Without, I can only hope that there is nothing in that pond besides turtles and algae. Moving on...

So, the duck pond isn't exactly known for its huge fish population and I felt fairly certain that I wouldn't have to worry until this man tells us that he just let go a 7" fish and there were at least 10 more in the water below when he dropped in back in. Damn it! I congratulated him, bit my cheek, and put some bait on the line...

There really was no need to worry, as I was soon to find out, because neither kid had any interest in letting the bait sit still long enough to land anything at all. They were all about watching the bobber get dragged from one end to the other and then reeling it in as fast as their little hands could handle. I breathed a sigh of relief and opted to spend our time there teaching them how to cast as opposed to how to de-hook. Ha ha.

Let me tell you how I now see why my dad DID drag us out to catch those dumb ass sunnies. I never understood how a man who fished the ocean, fished in Alaska, etc. could possibly find fishing for sunnies in a little watering hole a worthwhile way to spend a few hours. I truly understand now...wow...my son is incredible. After a few demonstrations and a couple of guided releases, he nailed it. He could get that bait out damn near to the center of the pond without much effort at all. He would press the release button with his right thumb, grab the pole from under with the rest of his right hand, grasp the end of the pole with his left hand for leverage, swing back slow and steady, and then cast his line like he had been doing it his whole life. It was fantastic! He had control, he was steady, he was responsible and checked to make sure there was no one behind him, and he was focused. He did such a beautiful job casting, checking for slack, pulling up on the line, etc., that we are heading back on Wednesday--- and this time I am bringing my gloves.

I Am SO Not Your Friend Anymore!

It is 8:19 and we have finished putting the kids to bed (Connlaodh had to be put to bed twice- ha ha). I am sitting in the loft, right outside the kids' rooms, listening to Angry Eibhlin tell me how much she doesn't like me ... and, for now, I am laughing my ass off.

Eibhlin did NOT want to go to bed. She must have told me 100 times between 7:50 and 8 o'clock that she had no intention of going to bed.

"Mommy, I do not want to go to bed now."
"I do not need to go to bed right now, Mom."
"Mimi, noooo, please don't make me go to bed."

Despite her nearly-convincing arguments, I persisted and, finally, put her to bed.

For fifteen solid minutes after I shut her door, this is what I heard...(as you read this, imagine a high pitched shriek, my guess would be similar to a Siren...and be sure to emphasize the words in all caps with an increase in level of at least 100 decibels):

"You are NOT my friend anymore."
"YOU are not my friend anymore."
"I am GLAD you are NOT my friend."
"I am SO not YOUR friend anymore."
"I do not want YOU to be my friend."
"I don't like you; you are not my FRIEND."
(sound of jumping on the bed)
"YOU are not my FRIIIIIIEEEEENNNND."
(sound of stuffed animals being thrown at the fan)
"I do not LIIIIIIKE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUU."
"I am NOT your friend."

So, why am I laughing my ass off? Because while I am sure this will not be the only time I hear this sentiment from my daughter's lips, I am fairly certain it will be one of the only times in which I will be more likely to get a hug and a kiss from her if I went in right now than I would get a smack in the head. My guess is that shift will take place in a little less than 10 years. So, for now, I am laughing because it really is funny. I wouldn't let her see me laughing- I am not that cold- but I can't help but slap my hand over my mouth to stifle a guffaw every time I hear a new variation of the same theme.

Okay, and now 24 minutes after bedtime, she is simply screaming in 1 minute intervals.

Damn...if this is the reaction I get over bedtime, what in the world will I get when I tell her she can't have a boyfriend or wear make up until she is 20. Ha ha.

( a few moments later)

So I broke down and went in and informed her very politely of the fact that she was keeping her brothers awake and that she needed to stop screaming...

Okay, so what really came out of my mouth was something along the lines of, "You need to stop this now otherwise you will be given something to scream about. Get a book, get a doll, get a pillow, whatever it takes, but stop screaming now or else there will be consequences."

She asked for a book. And I got my hug and kiss without even having to ask. All is well. And, wait....yes, I hear it--- silence from the pink and yellow room down the hall.

Good night!

Wow. I am so LAZY.

Seems like my last post was only yesterday....though I guess it is closer to 24 yesterdays. What in the world sucks up my time like a Bounty? Hmmm...

Could it be working with adolescent students who are needier and more enabled than any child in any of my own children's classes? Nah.

Could it be running from work to tennis to home for dinner to the grocery store to baths and bedtime stories? Nah.

Could it be checking and rechecking and re-rechecking fares to NY in Oct, NY and MA in Mar, HI in July? Nah....ok, that's a lie. A lot of my time DOES go to that. I really should have been a travel agent; nothing gets me going more than a good deal on a flight that is non-stop and on the days I need!

What it boils down to is that 24 hours in a day and 7 days in a week is nowhere near enough time to live my life, love my family, and share with you the highlights. Unfortunately, I only have time for two of the three (if that), so you, dear reader, will always get the short end of that stick. However, it is after 10 pm, I am the only one awake, and I have had at least one glass of wine - i.e. I am in perfect form to reflect and regale.

Taidhgin--- started kindergarten on 25 Aug. He is officially a big kid now. There is homework and classwork and sight-word tests starting next week and an actual 3 ring binder filled (already!) with things to sign, papers that have been graded, and forms to fill out. What is more amazing than anything to me is that the start of kindergarten seems to have triggered in him this jump from baby to boy. He rolls his eyes, knows how to be a smartass (okay, so given his DNA perhaps this part isn't so shocking), and has begun to favor his friends over me. WTF is up with that, by the way!? Seriously, though, I sit back and watch the new Taidhgin with awe- he has a sense of humor, an overabundant sense of compassion and concern, a love of jokes and sarcasm, and more confidence than I ever remember having. His drawing...wow. He used to draw oval-shaped "circles" that were people without eyes...now he draws pirate ships with masts and cannons. He asks what words mean if he doesn't understand them and then he uses them in conversations later on that day/week. He desperately wants to tie his shoes and gets so frustrated when his fingers don't work the way he wants them to. He is so excited about trying to ride his bike without training wheels, but has decided he won't be ready to make the attempt until he is 5. HE JUST ASKED FOR A NINTENDO DS FOR HIS BIRTHDAY!?! My bug-boy is gone and left in his wake is the beginnings of the young man who will crush my heart by dating some girl who I hate and then will fix it by reminding me that I will always be his M O M (with a heart next to it for love).

Eibhlin--- my bestest gal is now in Pre-K. She is in the Turtles class and, according to her teacher, is about the most polite and helpful child ever to have gone through Highpointe. Come again? She is so damn intuitive and smart and manipulative. *Sigh* Everything I could have ever asked for in a daughter! :-) What comes out of her mouth sometimes is so insightful...for example, on our last day in San Antonio, Meema was saying how much "(she) loved spending time with (Eibhlin), Taidhgin, Connlaodh, your mom and dad..." What was Eibhlin's response? "What about Gramps?" Ha ha, especially if you know my folks *wink wink*. She has mastered the art of getting what she wants by "trading" to someone else something that she claims is better. She directs the events of the day..."First, Mom, we are going to the zoo, okay? And then, maybe, if we're good, we can go and get a treat at Target. And then, can we have salad for dinner? That sounds like a great idea, doesn't it? Then we can do a puzzle and read and watch TV. Okay? Okay, Mom?" And imagine all of this said with her three year old hands placed on her mini-teen hips with her sun-streaked hair swinging as she nods her head in exaggerated approval. How could one do anything other than what she suggests? It is hard to argue with the logic of one who includes a behavior clause in her agenda. It amazes me that she is so grown up inside that 38" body. And it blows my mind that she is no longer the colicky newborn of my nightmares and instead is the preschooler of my dreams.

Connlaodh--- Mongo began the summer with a vocabulary made up mainly of grunts and screams and has ended it with a number of words that can actually be understood by strangers. Every day I look at him and realize that he is no longer a baby- while not a preschooler, barely even a toddler, really, he is truly NOT a baby. He thinks, he decides, he teases, he plays games, he gets mad, he gets sad, he fakes tears for effect- he does all of these things that a baby can't do and yet I have such a hard time accepting it. Why? Because for as much as I am anxious to embark on a new era in our lives, it hurts to hear the squeak of the hinge of the door that is quickly slamming shut behind us. Connlaodh was our last doorstop, if you will; he was my last tie to the world of stretch marks and preggo pops, of new life to come, of teeny tiny diapers and bottles and highchairs. And yet, for as much as it hurts to let go of that world, I look at the little boy I have now and couldn't imagine reliving it. Who he is, this not-quite-2-year-old, more than makes up for the little loss I feel. He is 100% CHILD- fun loving and active. He is 100% SIBLING- he follows his brother and sister and desperately wants them in his life. He is 100% INVOLVED- he participates in every aspect of the world that is shown to him. He is 100% BULL IN CHINA SHOP- he breaks nearly everything. He is 100% MINE...and I couldn't ask for anything other than that. I melt with each sloppy kiss and every time he says "Tarry (sorry)" and hugs my neck I forget about the breakfast he threw on the floor and the water bowl he spilled....

Okay, so maybe I don't forget about them altogether, but I do find them easier to forgive :-).

I wish I had the wherewithal to remember the "moments" of each day of the last month...hell, of the last five years. I am going to make a concerted effort from now on to make this more of a slice of life page as opposed to a lexical collage of random thought. I am sure to bore you either way, but at least I can pretend to be more entertaining if I am more anecdote and less soapbox.

Bear in mind that I make no guarantees as to the success of this new drive; I promised myself I would do laundry every weekend, too, but I am fairly sure that at least two people in the family have recently run out of clean underwear. And on that note, it is way past my bedtime and the hours between now and my morning alarm are growing shorter and thinner with each passing moment. Good night, friends.

Everything I Needed to Know...Part II

So now that I have had the opportunity to share the vents heard throughout the last 9 weeks, let me take some time to also share with you what I have learned about the little people in my life. It has been a very interesting experience, having them home with with me all day, every day. It has given me a lot of time and contexts in which to see my children as they truly are, not as they seem to be in the sound-bytes that constitute our normal "school year" lives:

Taidhgin has QUITE a temper. I know I shouldn't be surprised, considering who his momma and daddy are, but I am amazed at its passion nonetheless. He is quick to flare, quick to fizzle, and it almost always involves his lack of control over the situation. He grinds his teeth together, clenches his jaw, and his eyes just fire up when he gets that angry.
On a more positive note, he is innately one of the softest, most gentle children I have ever met. Whether it is a new baby or a baby animal, he, without prompting, speaks softly and quietly, touches like a feather, and is totally focused on comforting and soothing.
Yinyang.

Eibhlin, for as much as I believed her to be the one with the truly bipolar personality, is probably the most consistent of the three. In every aspect of her life-whether it is play, fighting, sorrow, sleeping, walking, talking, it doesn't matter- she is "on" 100%. She puts every molecule of her being into whatever she is doing or feeling...she half-asses nothing. While this makes for a very frustrating scene when she has decided that she wants to be the uncooperative b-i-t-c-h she is known to be at times, it also allows for the incredible emotion that I feel every time she throws herself full-speed into a hug or takes it upon herself to direct the day's activities or when she uses her outstanding capacity for emotion to try to console her baby brother when he is upset.

Connlaodh has spent the last 2 1/2 months becoming a very cool little boy. He, of the three, is by far the most even-tempered and good-natured. Don't get me wrong, it is not that he doesn't ever get angry or upset or hurt or loud---he is Italian and Irish, there is no way he could escape those traits--- but he is genuinely happy. Now that he has sound and has enough words in his vocabulary to get most of his needs across, he is nothing but smiles and hugs and big toothy grins. He so badly wants to be like his big brother and big sister, he cannot stand to sit back and watch them do things that he cannot do....but he takes it in stride, tries when he can and sucks it up when he can't.

It never ceases to amaze me how these little bodies can contain all of the same feelings, strengths, and weaknesses as their adult counterparts. You can see it, though...when Connlaodh gets angry and does not know how to say what he wants, he bites or cries or throws things. Seconds after being given some words to use, he uses them and is miraculously transformed from a wailing demon into a smiling child. Imagine that. As soon as you are given the right tools to use, your job becomes easier. I am certain this applies to the over 2 crowd, too. (Or it should, anyway).

Anyway, contrary to popular belief (and to the comments I have made in the last week or so), I am actually quite glad I had this summer. I have joked about how I won't ever do this again - "this" meaning keeping my kids home full time over the summer- but I am sure I will. For whatever reason, despite my irritation as of late and my frustrations throughout, I am actually a little teary-eyed at the fact that my summer with my children is officially over. They head back to Highpointe tomorrow (and I will spend the week doing those things I couldn't figure out how to do while they were home- ha ha) and that's all she wrote. So I am sure that time will dull the edge of this summer's mishaps (much like it blurs the pain of a drug-free labor and delivery) and I will sign up for this circus again next June. And until then, I will have to try to remember what it felt like those days when the four of us had it better than anyone else in the world. While those days were not as frequent as I would have liked them to be, there were enough of them there this summer for me to know that there are many more to come if only I grab them when I see them.

Everything I Needed to Know, I Have Learned This Summer

I am nearing the end of my summer break and have spent the last week or so losing my mind…partially because of the thought of going back to work, a little because I accomplished nearly nothing of what I had planned on getting done this summer, but mainly because I have had the privilege of spending my summer in the company of other women- my friends and family- and have realized that no matter what the details of our lives may be, we are all truly screwed in the same way. How could this be? Surely the life of the stay at home mom who has a maid is not in any way similar to the mom of two, one of whom is often sick. And surely the life of a mother of three (who has a home zoo on top) is not at all parallel to the life of the mother of one whose home is impeccably clean….

I know it sounds implausible, nay, it sounds CRAZY to think such a way…but, my friends, it is true. All of these women share so many common issues, concerns, angers, tears, that when I actually realized the truth of our lives, I was dumbfounded. I must thank all of them- those who I have seen, those to whom I have spoken on the phone, those to whom I have only heard from via e-mail…all of them. Every last one of these incredible women has shaped my current insanity…but I feel it is my current state that will lead to the clarity necessary to continue living with my hair still attached to my head.

Let me preface the following with a statement of fact: this is not a direct attack on anyone (so many dads are just so sensitive...). What follows is, instead, feelings and thoughts that I saw common among nearly all the mothers I had contact with this summer. For better or for worse, whether shooting straight or embellishing on their own plights, these mothers shared stories and had discussions that seemed to hit the nail on the head in the lives of so many others. I feel it is my duty to share what I have learned this summer from these honest women, for, as unproductive as it was around my house, it was truly productive in terms of my bonds to and relationships with the women in my life. So thank you all…and here are the top ten nuggets of insight with which you have helped to enlighten me:

1. WHO SAID I NEEDED SAVING?

Not every woman wants to be saved by their husband/partner; most just want enough alone time to be able to save themselves. In other words, find some other way to boost your own ego.

2.ALONE TIME MEANS TIME FOR ME, NOT MORE TIME FOR CHORES.

Getting a break is more than being able to go to the grocery store alone; getting a break is more than having the children watched in another room whilst one folds clothes in the bedroom….getting a break means being given the chance to put one’s self (and one’s “other life”- work, etc) first.

3. NOT TONIGHT, DEAR.

Sex is not the magic salve for a broken daytime relationship; in fact, pushed too far and it may be catalyst for a permanent break.

4. WATCH THE KIDS WITH YOUR EYES, NOT THE REMOTE.

Watching the kids does not mean playing on the computer/watching the TV/eating/scratching your ass until one of the kids breaks something which allows you to scream and “discipline” them; watching the kids means being an active and PROACTIVE participant in their world.

5. AND WHAT ABOUT YOUR FAT ASS?

If going to the gym is not a lot of fun for someone to begin with, then going to the gym with one, two, three children in tow is an unprecedented misery. So no, honey- I am not going to the gym to lose my baby weight. YOU take the kids along and lose the inner tube you currently sport (and for which you have no excuse). I will stay home, clean the house, and relish the productive minutes of my life in silence. Wait, what? It would be a pain in the ass for you to bring the kids to your man-sanctuary of sweat and dumbbells? Aww, shucks, honey. That’s too bad.

6. SUCK IT UP, SUPERMAN.

Women don’t like it when their partners portray themselves as super-dads and then proceed to hand the baby/child directly back to “mom” as soon as the baby/child becomes an inconvenience to the eating, sleeping, or whatever other activity the dad would like to embark upon. Stop blowing smoke up the ass of whomever it is you are trying to impress and just hold the damn kid so I can finish a meal while it’s still warm. Thank you.

7. SO YOU MAKE MORE MONEY THAN ME, SO WHAT.

Please don’t use the excuse that your paycheck is bigger than ours (and therefore more necessary) to justify your increasingly longer hours and your inability to carry your own child-rearing weight once you get home. If you really feel that money is the problem, then believe me, we can do without- I’d rather have you home with me and the kid(s) than have a nicer couch in the living room. However, if you just don’t want to have to take responsibility for your kid(s), then we have bigger problems than how much money is coming in every week.

8. BE PROACTIVE.

No one likes to have to give orders all day long. Take a look around the house and see if there’s anything that you can help with…take out the garbage, put the clothes away, water the plants, anything. These are all responsibilities of all adults who have a home and family, not just the women who live in these homes. And if you really want to know why we’re pissed, it’s because you left your garbage on the table for three days and only cleaned it up because the three year old commented on it, and because you walked by your nasty underwear (which are laying in the sink in the guest bathroom) no less than 15 times and STILL did not put them in the wash. Get a grip, my friend…your mother is no longer here to clean up behind you and I sure as hell am not picking up where she left off.

9. YOU KNOW, MY PLANS CAN CHANGE, TOO.

We all know that life in the business world can change quickly and that meetings are scheduled, cancelled, etc on a whim sometimes. However, how is it that this happens so rarely to the moms and so often to the dads? Dads, let me tell you what it says when you call home at your normal arrival time only to say that, oops, your plans have changed and now you will be two hours late. It says that you have not at all considered the dinner mom has made, the activities planned already for that afternoon, that mom may have work to do, as well, etc. In fact, this phenomenon is a symptomatic manifestation of problem #7, because if MOM did the same thing, there would be hell to pay. Try to realize, dad, that just because you are oh-so-needed at work does not mean that you are NOT needed at home. You might want to check that list of priorities and make sure that the right ones are marked URGENT.

10. IF YOU CALL ME AGAIN, I WILL CANCEL MY DAMN CELL PHONE NUMBER.

When you DO finally let me get out of the house without much argument and fuss and actually DO allow me to have some adult time with friends and colleagues, DO NOT call me every 5 minutes to try to guilt me into coming home. GROW UP. Deal with your kid(s) on your own--- I do it EVERY day.

There were many more topics of conversation that shared space in the minds and hearts of my friends and family, but the above ten were the ones that repeated again and again. They came up so often that I have to wonder just how far from the truth they are in the lives of these women. I know there are people who will read this and truly believe that I and the women of whom I speak are nothing but a bunch of man-bashers who can't be happy with anything. I can assure you that this is not the case...for so often these topics came up amidst tears and those tears were streaming from the eyes of women who had a much different vision in their heads of what it would be like to bring a child into the world with the men they love.

Cojones

I feel terrible that it has been over a week since I last wrote. I am sure that it has been painful for you not to be regaled with the trials and tribulations of the pseudo-stay at home mom that I am until 11 August. Ha ha.

It has been a difficult week, I won't lie. To say that every moment of the summer has been wonderful would be untrue, but it seems the majority of the bad moments have been in the last 10 days. I have decided that it is entirely possible for a mother to get on her children's nerves and vise versa. And so here is the conundrum....how much can a mother admit to being aggravated by her children before she earns herself the right to be gossiped about behind her back?

You all know what I am talking about...there are women out there who complain about their children and their lives as mothers about whom YOU gossip. They don't love their children, they obviously don't appreciate the "gift" of their children, etc., etc. Nothing is ever said TO the mother in question about the concern or distaste others feel toward them; instead, mom in the spotlight is greeted with uber-pleasant smiles up front, and stabbed in the back with attacks on her motherly character as soon as she turns away.

How many women refuse to admit that their newborn baby is not what they expected, just because they KNOW what people will say about them? How many women deny their toddler's anger-inducing fits because they know that someone will comment on how badly they must be parenting? How many gloss over the potentially dangerous and destructive attitudes of their preschooler because they are afraid someone will remind them how much they will "miss" this time of their child's life?

I would be willing to bet that there isn't a single mother out there who hasn't, at some point, been so angry, frustrated, upset, hurt, stifled, etc by their children that they haven't wished to have just 15 minutes of their life back to the ease and relative pain-free existence it was BEFORE they had children. I am not saying that they want their children gone forever, but for 15 minutes....just 15 minutes to regroup, restructure, restore. And if any mother denies that, then she is either lying or has yet to have their child take a hockey stick to her newly painted walls.

I will stand up for all of those women and then some, then. I will have the cojones to say, " I love my children with all my heart, but for about 2 hours yesterday I would have been equally as happy to have them anywhere but with me". Of course, I would have been aching for them terribly at the end of those two hours, as it is the ache that leads us to becoming mothers in the first place. But two hours without the juggling act would have been very nice...

They did, however, make it up to me by cuddling very nicely last night while we watched "Mulan". I even got a kiss and a "You're my best friend" from my best girl. And with that, the rest of the day was washed away and I was able to go to bed happy.

If Only I Could Carry the 4th Everyday

Happy belated 4th of July! I would have written last night, but we got in late from the fireworks and I chose bed over blog...

With all the recent talk of why kids, when kids, how kids, etc., I feel it necessary to share a slice of last night with you. We traveled down to a ballpark in Mansfield to share the 4th with some dear friends of ours and their kids- we had a fantastic time. We spent hours playing, goofing, and running around on the fields, and then we sat down on our blankets and fold up chairs in order to watch the fireworks.

I had the privilege of having , for just a few brief moments during the show, every child in group seated by me, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the lights and sounds. I was able to see it all through their eyes, the pinks-greens-whites-blues, and well, nothing is more amazing than having two 3 year olds leaning against your arms, two five year olds sitting close by, and an 18 month old on your lap, all vying for your attention, your hugs, your comments while they sit in awe of the sky above.

Imagine the baby touching your face and looking at you with each "wow", the 3 year olds patting your arm and asking you, non-stop, if you saw this one or that one, the 5 year olds telling you "how cool" each display was....and now contemplate how overwhelming it is to know that, for those few brief moments, you are their touchstone, their line between the earth and the sky. You are their answers, their sounding board, their comfort, their pillow...Imagine no other sound but the children and the fireworks, no other moment but the one you are in; picture yourself completely immersed in the knowledge that you are a part of their memory, their experience.

If only it was possible to carry that moment with you...for those times when you want to do or say those things to your children, the ones you know you regret the second after they occur. If only you could take out that moment, look at it as a reminder of just how important you are to them ALL the time. If only, if only...

Posted by Request

This has nothing to do with the Three Musketeers; this fact is one that is sure to delight some of you and I would imagine you are aching for a commercial break in the pro-children soapbox. Ha!

Here is an e-mail I sent out yesterday, posted by request. Do with it what you will (but don't send it back to me, please! I am liable to comment on it again and I am not sure I can keep my responses PG next time).

*********************************************************************************
I actually received this e-mail at least a dozen times over the course of a week or so…it is funny, but in dire need of a response J. If anything makes you laugh, just remember it’s because you know what I am talking about- ha ha. If you haven’t seen the “rules” yet, they are what’s written in gray.

THERE'S A NEW SET OF RULES NOW!!
Now it's time for the man's rules. We always hear "the rules" for the feminine side. Ok - we are now going to hear the rules from the man's side. These are our rules! Please note these are all numbered "1" on purpose.

1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down.
Do women actually get mad about this? I don't know of any who do. I know many, however, who get mad at the drippage on the lid and/or inside the rim after the man in their house has visited his “throne”.

1. Sometimes, we are not thinking about you. Live with it.
Hell, I am hardly ever thinking of you. What do I care?

1. Shopping is NOT a sport, and no, we are never going to think of it that way.
Whew! I hate it, too...especially when it's shopping for something that has no bearing on reality....computer parts, big screen TV's, stereo components necessary for the loud parties we never have, etc.

1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. Really.
Wish I could say the same in return.

1. Crying is blackmail.
Well, so stop doing it then! No one likes to see a grown man asking for Kleenex.

1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one:
Subtle hints do not work
Strong hints do not work
Obvious hints do not work
Just say it!
Then the next logical question is...if I say it, provide you with explicit directions on how to do it, and also provide you with a reasonable deadline in which it needs to be done, why is it still screwed up?

1. We don't remember dates. Mark birthdays and anniversaries on a calendar. Remind us frequently beforehand.
We don't remember either, so please refrain from getting mad the next time we forget that your poker night is this week and have made other plans for us that will prevent you from attending.

1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
Yup. I.e., "Honey, want to fool around?" NO. “Is it me?” YES.

1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.
Nobody asked you for either. I didn't come to you with a problem, you harassed me into telling you one. I just didn't want to talk to you.

1. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.
In this case, perhaps lawyer is more appropriate.

1. Check your oil! Please.
I did. I changed it, too...not like you would know since you haven't left the couch since yesterday.

1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.
This rule applies to me, too, right? Because though I said ok to boy's night out last week, I am changing my mind now. According to your rule, last week's response never even existed.

1. If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls, don't expect us to act like soap opera guys.
Ewww...who wanted that? How about simply acting like someone who follows the larger of their two brains...or are you already? Because that would explain SO much.

1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
I have yet to hear anything uttered from your mouth for which multiple interpretations were possible; I will worry about that particular dilemma when we reach the complex sentence structure stage of our conversations.

1. Let us ogle. We are going to look anyway; it's genetic.
It sure is. So no, I didn't see you make that basket/touchdown/hole in one/whatever, dear...I was busy following my genetic pre-disposition to “ogle”…and damn, he’s hot.

1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done, not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.
I am pretty sure I do already...then you come along and jack it all up.

1. The relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out. Get over it.
Believe me, I did. Can you?

1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.
Well, now that explains what you wore to work today.

1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.
Feel free...just please refrain from using my kitchen utensils as aids in this endeavor unless YOU are going to clean them.

1. We are not mind readers and we never will be. Our lack of mind-reading ability is not proof of how little we care about you.
Fortunately for you, I am really not all that concerned about how much you care. I figure if you didn't at all, I would be being served papers.

1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," We will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.
Duly noted. Rest assured that you can often apply the same theory (know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.) to “Was it good for you, honey?” “Yes, dear”.

1. I'm in shape. -ROUND is a shape.
I believe the term you’re looking for here is sphere. You did pass 10th grade math, right?

Does Making Blue and Green Food for the Kids Count as a Hobby?

I recently got in touch with an old friend from high school who asked me, "Do you have any hobbies, or are the kids all-consuming?"

Reaction #1: Hmmm...am I being completely roasted for having no life outside of my children?
Reaction #2: Poor, poor thing...hasn't quite realized the utter joy of giving your body, heart, and soul to your offspring?
Reaction #3: What ARE hobbies, anyway?

So I started thinking about my hobbies. You know, I don't recall ever having any. I read (and still do) and wrote (still do), but I never really looked at those as hobbies; those activities were more along the lines of necessities. I liked to travel (still do, though not as extensively as maybe I would otherwise), I loved working on projects around the house (see note re: travel)...but again, never really thought of these things as hobbies. Hobbies always seemed to be things like trains, painting, model airplanes...things that cost more money than I care to spend on things that do nothing other than sit and look nice.

Aaron's idea is that anything you spend a significant amount of time on, outside of work, is a hobby. Hmm...guess for me that would be balancing the checkbook and paying bills.

Merriam-Webster defines hobby as "a pursuit outside one's regular occupation engaged in especially for relaxation ".
Collins Essential English Dictionary defines hobby as "an activity pursued in one's spare time for pleasure or relaxation".
Wikipedia states that a hobby is a "a spare-time recreational pursuit".
Dictionary.com concurs that a hobby is "an activity or interest pursued for pleasure or relaxation and not as a main occupation".

So, based on the idea that a hobby is something done for fun OUTSIDE of one's job, and I often have fun outside of my job- ha ha- I have to have a hobby somewhere...

1) On the weekends, when we have nothing we HAVE to do around the house, what do I choose to do to have fun?
Go to the zoo or some other random location with Aaron and the kids.
2) During the week, after work and if I had no other obligations to concern myself with, what would I most like to do?
Play outside with the kids.
3) Is there anything that I plan around, for, etc?
Traveling with the family, etc.

I am noticing a pattern here. So I guess I DO have a hobby. It just doesn't sound quite as exotic as traveling through foreign lands or as intellectual as collecting numbered prints or as "productive" as decorating my home and yard.

The answer to the original question posed is then, "Yes...and yes".
I can live with that.

All's Quiet on the Upstairs Front

Everyone is still asleep. It is amazing how quiet the house is when no one is moving. As much as I am enjoying it, I couldn't imagine my house sounding like this all the time.
Here is what will happen soon...I will hear the gate creak open. I will look up and see one of the boys, swinging the gate open and closed. If it's Connlaodh, I will go up to get him. If it's Taidhgin, I will ask him to come down. Either way, within minutes I will hear the footsteps of the second brother. Both boys will come down, start breakfast, and quietly play at the table. About ten minutes later, Eibhlin will be at the gate- having closed it already, which means I will need to go up and open it- and she will say, "Good morning!". By the time she gets downstairs, the boys' volume will have gone from 2 to 10 and my day will have begun in earnest- functioning at top volume until bedtime.

I can remember entire Sunday mornings that would sound like this...Aaron would be sleeping and I would be working on assignments for class or on my own classwork. The house would lie dormant, except for whatever limited movements I made in the office. That was a long time ago...and long before I welcomed these amazing creatures into my life.

So for right now, right this moment, I will quietly sip my coffee and appreciate the silence there is for now.

But wait, I hear the gate now...it is big brother. Guess I couldn't expect it to last forever- and definitely wouldn't want it to...

Out of the Mouths of Babes...

So Eibhlin and I were cleaning the junk drawer out yesterday and came across a picture of me from a LONG time ago. I would say that the pic is circa early '95...scary. I was about 30 lbs heavier than I am now, hadn't yet been introduced to tweezers, and was wearing my father's sweats and a too-small white t-shirt. Ouch!
I asked Eibhlin if she knew who the person in the picture was...she shook her head at first and then I could see the light bulb turn on. She stopped shaking her head, scrunched up her nose in absolute distaste and disgust and said, "You was yucky then, Mommy?"

Just a Side Note

Wow. I just reread all my posts and I sound like the worst mother in the world. Hmmm...seems I have been at a loss to do anything besides bitch and moan! So, let's take a break from the norm and show the rosier side of the day...

While at Medieval Times last night, I found myself getting misty-eyed when I was watching the three kids play around with each other. The boys pair up, Eibhlin is the glue that holds them together...it is amazing to watch them play, rough-house, and be concerned about each other.

And, truth be told, I am taking them out to any place of their choice tomorrow as payback for having been MIA all day today...as much as I appreciated the time to work, I missed playing with my babies...

And, as a reminder, bitch is my comfort zone, not my only zone. See ya soon.

Escaping in My Own Home

I found the perfect way to get a break today- no questions asked. I painted- for 9 hours. One wall in the living room and both entries. I was covered in brown paint ("sauteed mushrooms") and surrounded by tape, ladders, and paintbrushes- it left everyone else no choice but to leave me alone for the day. The kids could walk by and applaud my painting job- "Nice work, Mom", "Oooh, it looks brand new!"- but no one could come too close and Aaron had to watch them all day without my help. Needless to say, I will painting every weekend for the next 16 1/2 years.

On a more playful note, we went to Medieval Times last night to celebrate a belated Happy Father's Day for Aaron...

What Happened to Vacation Meaning Getting a Break?

The kids and I just got back from Myrtle Beach where we spent three days in the sand and sun with my folks and also with Uncle Louie and Aunt Rose. We played in the sand, floated in the lazy river, ate out, played mini golf...and now I need a break from my vacation! Ha!

It is amazing, though, how much fun - and how freaking exhausting- it is to take the kids on vacation. They just wanted to go, go, go no matter how exhausted they were, which meant no naps (and no down time for Mom, Meema, and Gramps- ha ha) for three days.

I do wonder how my parents- my aunt and uncle, too- did it back in the day...I remember the adults being the ones who could go forever and it was me and the rest of the kids who were spent- I guess it is all a matter of perception. And it really must be, too, because I sure do remember those condo rooms being quite a bit bigger than what they felt like with the Three Musketeers running around in them! Ha!


Anyway, you can see all the pics from the trip on the Kodak site, but here are a couple that I can't resist posting...




And what blog would be complete without a little dancing?

The First Week

There is a reason I couldn't be a stay-at-home mom full time-

Ok, so I have mastered the art of taking all three kids to run errands, to the water park, to the store, to the gym, etc. What I haven't quite figured out yet is how to get my floors mopped and my lawn mowed while all three are home and awake...because did I mention that NO ONE takes naps anymore? Ok, that is an exaggeration...Connlaodh takes one every other day, but the other two are damn near nap-free. Which means that my floors will never get cleaned....

I did manage to keep the kitchen sink clean this week. Ha ha. No dishes, white was sparkling- the whole shebang. Next week's goal is to keep the laundry piles below waist high. Ha!

Though I wasn't terribly "productive" this week, I did get some pics of the kids playing in the (long) grass in the backyard...

First Day of Summer Vacation...

Eibhlin spelled her name with confidence:

and Connlaodh made his first attempt at "I Love You":

and Taidhgin...well, I don't have any video of what Taidhgin did today, but let's just say that I couldn't have gotten through the day without his help... :-)

Scottish Festival 2008

We took the kids to the Scottish Festival this past Friday...we go every year and the kids always have a good time. We made it around to the Glengarry (?) Tent to listen to Seamus Stout (one of the regulars at the fest)- the kids all had a great time letting the music move them... ha ha...

Here are Taidhgin and Eibhlin letting loose...

And here is brother bear with a pirouette of his own- ha!

Well, tomorrow is the first official day of summer break...and the start of the first summer home with all three kiddos. Wish me luck!

Trace Adkins - Then They Do

Not much to say about this one...just listen.

Some Moments from the Past Week

Eibhlin had her first Elite Dance Prep Class tonight. She had a new teacher, was the youngest in her class of 8 (the girl older than her was a YEAR older and there were several who were almost 2 years older), was in a different classroom, etc., etc. I thoroughly expected her to stand there in her famous "civil disobedience" pose- arms close in, nails in mouth, grimace on her face. However, she watched and listened, did everything her instructor asked (as much as that little 3 year old body could, anyway) and did it all with a look of determination. She hugged me hard during a break in class, looked me in the eye- with those huge brown eyes- and said, "I am listening real good for you, Mommy. Am I making you happy?" OF COURSE YOU ARE, KITTEN.

Connlaodh, more apt to bite you than kiss you, leaned in to me today, grabbed both my cheeks with those big ol' bear paws, and kissed my nose. Of course he then managed to ruin the moment by throwing his head back, smacking into the wall, and then screaming "DOWN!".....but at least I had that ONE moment with my little grizzly bear. :-)

(Speaking of the younger two, here they are cleaning the house this past Sunday- ha ha)

And Taidhgin...on Sunday I got a glimpse of what life will be like for him in not too many years, i.e. being the "big kid" surrounded by a bunch of babies. We went to a birthday party and he was among the older kids there...and there was a moment when- among the insanity of the toddlers and pre-schoolers throwing water balloons haphazardly and running around like loons- he looked around at the younger kids, looked at me, and then shrugged his shoulders and sighed with a smile. It was like he had sneaked a peek into that big kid world- a world where the kids just a few years younger than you are no longer playmates and have instead become pests.

Introductions are in Order

So what it boils down to is that I have become very lazy. I have grown so accustomed to being able to fly around and see everyone that I have forgotten what it means to be able to put pen to paper (or, in this case, fingertips to keys) and let everyone see from their pages (computers) what is going on in my life. So, given the current price of gas and airline tickets, I have chosen to unpack my adjectives (courtesy of some School House Rock inspiration) and invite you all in via word and picture.

I must forewarn you, though...I am far less succinct in word than I am on the phone. Feel free to skim through here as I tend to digress quite frequently...

So. The first entry into the real blog versus the practice blogs. I have attempted several of these in the past, but have yet to make it past the first entry. In fact, rarely have I finished that first one! So, my goal for this week is TWO blogs- today and maybe sometime over this coming weekend. And if I can do that, then perhaps three next week? ...


Well, here they are...the reason for the travel (and now for the blog):




Taidhgin, Connlaodh, and Eibhlin

Hands down, they are the coolest kids in the world.






There will be plenty more to come (and you can see plenty of pics at http://www.kodakgallery.com/fitch_steele), but here are a few more - because I know no one can resist-ha ha!

Have a good night.