Youth-Tinted Glasses: Get Yourself a Pair.

DAY NINETEEN - 19 November 2012
I am so grateful for what my children help me to see. Through their eyes I get to experience so much I had forgotten about, ideas and thoughts that wasted away along with my childhood and early adulthood.

Do YOU remember how much fun it is to run around and play tag for hours, with kids you may not even know, screaming across the playground and school yard with reckless abandon?
Do YOU remember how nervous, exciting, exhilarating, nauseating, embarrassing, amazing it is/you are when you perform in front of your classmates and family?
Do YOU remember how awesome you feel when you have figured out that all of those letters make sounds, those sounds make words, those words make thoughts and now you- yes, you!- are among the inner circle who understand what goes on inside of books?
Do YOU remember how warm and comforting it is to sit down with your dog, scratch his belly and rub his ears, receive licks and give hugs, all without care for your clothes or your hair or anything else in the world?
Do YOU remember what it felt like to throw a ball with all your might, watch it fly through the air and bounce off the wall, the couch, the floor, your brother, whatever...then chase it and do it all over again?
Do YOU remember how exciting it was to pack your suitcase full of fun and books and toys and ideas, all to be used with complete joy at your destination?
Do you?

I can't imagine being my age now and not being asked to remember those feelings, those moments of utter peace and joy that children embrace every day. It's a lot to ask as adults that we spend our time being as carefree and wonderstruck as children, but it would be a shame to not at least try for a few moments of that, if only in what we see through the eyes of those far wiser than we.

McDonalds. Books. Laundry. Zebras. Puppies.

DAY FOURTEEN - 14 November 2012
People talk about how lifestyle and food changes have saved their lives, right? Well let me be the first to say that McDonalds has saved my Wednesday night wallet. Not my ass or my cholesterol count, mind you, but definitely my wallet. Wednesday nights are, hands down, the most complicated nights we have- i.e. we don't even go home after school most weeks- so cooking at home is out of the question. We have taken to hitting up the local fast food chow stations (blech, I know), but they are ridiculous in terms of bang for my buck. All of them except for McDonalds.

I can feed the entire family for under $20 off the value menu. Yes, sir...our total yesterday evening came to a whopping $18.20. They still don't beat CiCi's pizza, where we can all eat for $15, but it's pretty damn close AND I can let them eat it in the car (unlike CiCi's...it's definitely easier to clean up a fry mess than a pie mess). I can even forgive the franchise its awful food, Happy Meals, dirty Playlands, and more...how could I not, given the McChicken and the $1 LARGE drinks? For those of you who also do the eat-in-the-car-because-we-have-overlapping-practices/classes-and-this-is-our-only-chance-to-eat routine, I know you can appreciate the sigh of relief from both myself and my purse as we drive away from the drive through checker, sated and not broke (yet).

DAY FIFTEEN - 15 November 2012
Good books. That's all there is to it. Yesterday I learned to appreciate again what it felt like to sit down and become totally immersed in a book. I drew a bath, filled it with bubbles, soaked my aching legs in the scalding hot water, and read until the water was turning my toe blue. I was not reading great literature, it was not a novel for the ages, but it was interesting and fast and filled with characters so close to the hearts of the kids I teach every day that it was all that I could do to put it down - finally - and save the rest for today. Movies are great, hanging out with friends is wonderful, being with your family is irreplaceable, but I am so thankful for that solitary time spent in the bubbles. Alone. With a book. No one yelling. No one talking. Just me. And my book. Alone. (Sorry, I just know it will be years before that happens again, so I need to keep repeating it for fear of forgetting that it actually happened.) With a good book. In a bath. Alone. Quiet....Alone...Reading...

DAY SIXTEEN - 16 November 2012
Black & Decker's Digital Advantage Iron. This modern miracle cut my ironing time in half, didn't spit water, and made perfect creases in Connlaodh's uniform pants. Never would I have guess 20 years ago that I would be thankful for a new iron, but am I ever. I  thank you, B & D, and my now neatly pressed oxford thanks you, as well.

DAY SEVENTEEN - 17 November 2012
Today was one of those days wherein it is easy to forget there's a reason we do what we do. The entire day was spent taking care of those items that "had" to be taken care of, i.e. groceries, cleaning, cooking, and errands. It was also one of those days where we did nothing else once the "must-dos" were done; we stayed home, stayed in, and spent the evening in PJ's watching bad movies and eating Chinese food. It was the kind of day that is easy to forget, to shut your eyes on that night without a second thought, to gloss over when someone asks what you did this weekend. This makes it all the easier to forget - on a day such as this one - that each day is worth being thankful for, even the ones that seem so benign and ill-equipped to make a mark on our memory. To find something on a day like this to hold tight and dear can be nearly impossible but, if one looks very hard, even today there was a moment for which to be truly grateful. Zebra cakes. Not the Little Debbie kind, but the kind you make with white and chocolate cake batter, overlapping in the dish, and baking into a zebra pattern. They are delicious and cool to look at, yes, but the moment I think of as that moment was the one in which Connlaodh decorated said cake--- with a little bit of icing and a whole lot of sprinkles. The cake  was/is ugly, but the pure joy on his face as he decorated that cake and the leftover-batter's cupcakes was worth the dreary, dull day that lead up to that point. Thank you, yummy zebra cakes, for the slice of brightness that ended my day.

DAY EIGHTEEN - 18 November 2012
Phantom is our youngest dog. He is just over a year old and is ALL puppy. Nine days out of every ten, I am plotting a way to get rid of this creature. He  jumps over everything, climbs on the counters, knocks people over, and pees when he's nervous. He has eaten at least six bluetooth headsets, two cell phones, five wired headsets, two pairs of slippers, and numerous shoes, keychains, and bags. He is a runner and thinks it's funny to haul ass out the front door and down the street. He is adorable and sweet, but a freaking menace.  He is also, however, more or less Uilleam's litter mate and definitely one of "the boys". Tonight I watched Phantom wrestle with Connlaodh and Uilleam - and by wrestle, I truly do mean flips, head locks, and more- and though aggressive and offensive, nary a hair on the head of either boy was disturbed. Despite bared teeth and spit-covered growls in good fun, that dog knew- just KNEW!- he was playing with his "brothers" and that it was all a good time, a laugh, worth lots of fun and plenty of licks. I don't know who had more fun tonight, the boys or the dog. Either way, just when I think I am ready to leave the damn door open so this beast can escape, he goes and loves on my boys the way he did tonight. With a bit of a grimace--one more like a smirk-- I shut the front door and scratched his head good- night.

FOUR DAYS. (A Top Ten List for Each.)

I am thankful for my litter of kiddos today and every day. I thought I was whole before I had them; it wasn't until they became a part of my life that I realized just how many cracks and holes needed to be filled. I cannot begin to tell you just how quickly those gaps and cracks were filled with my love for these awesome little creatures.

DAY TEN - 10 November 2012

Taidhgin, the little poet.

Ten things I love:

1. His totally unabashed giggle. 
2. The way he tries to make his hair "shake" from side to side. 
3. The way that he naturally speaks quietly and is soft around babies. 
4. How he, at nine, still likes to snuggle and say, "I love you."
5. He is so willing to see the good inside of even the darkest person.
6. He can admit when he's wrong.
7. He hurts more for other than he does for himself.
8. He can see the humor in himself and laughs about it.
9. He doesn't hide anything. 
10. I get to love him.

DAY ELEVEN - 11 November 2012

Eibhlin, beautiful/precious joy.

Ten things I love:

1. The way that she gets peanut butter on her face when she eats fluffer-nutters.
2. She loves diamonds, nail polish, stuffed animals, and farts.
3. She is so damn smart.
4. She never lets me forget anything, but she forgives me everything.
5. She can giggle in one breath and kick you in the head in the next.
6. She loves reading, and writing, and words in general...and uses them well.
7. She likes to go with me to Sam's ... just for the samples. :-) 
8. Her room is filled with stories and songs and math problems that she makes up for herself to keep herself busy.
9. When she calls me while I am out running errands just to chat and say hello.
10. I get to love her.

DAY TWELVE - 12 November 2012

Connlaodh, chaste fire.

Ten things I love:

1. Every emotion he has is right there for the world to see.
2. He doesn't play games- he is who he is.
3. Everything he does, he LOVES...until he doesn't like it anymore.
4. He thinks I am the best cook ever- especially when I order pizza. :-)
5. He is an amazing big brother.
6. He is incredible at damn near every sport - and just rolls with it, loving the sports for what they are, not for what he looks like playing.
7. He wants to fish every weekend.
8. He thinks math is fun.
9. When he talks, he uses his eyes for emphasis...those big, black eyes speak volumes.
10. I get to love him.

DAY THIRTEEN - 13 November 2012

Uilleam, inner strength and protector.

Ten things I love:

1. He is a terrorist and a love and a wild-eyed giggle monster who thinks he's five.
2. He loves to bite the dogs' ears.
3. He can fake tears and then laugh about it.
4. He runs to me and gives me "big hugs".
5. He loves karate and has an incredible kiai.
6. His curls!
7. His ability to outsmart every obstacle intended to keep him from the stairs, the sink, the toilet, the hall, the outside, the outlets, i.e. everywhere he shouldn't be.
8. When he gives me a zerbert on my belly and then belly laughs about it until he falls over.
9. He loves his brothers and sisters so much that he cries when they leave him for class.
10. I get to love him.

Oppan Gangnam Style.

DAY NINE - 9 November 2012
My car on the way home sounds like a (really bad) high school musical audition.

First there is my five year old singing, in his deepest, most bad-ass voice, "Oppan gangnam style! Eh- sexy lady!" I don't think there is anything funnier right now than listening to him. Really, you have to trust me on this. It's freaking hilarious.

Almost as entertaining is my seven year old singing, "I could be your Buzz Lightyear, fly across the globe" (lyrics courtesy of that musical genius, the Bieb).

Heartwarming and touching is my one year old singing, "Tinka tinka up up up," which loosely translates to "Twinkle, twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are."

Above this lyrical cacophony is the uplifting tune of "Hot Cross Buns," being played at top screech on his beloved recorder by the nine year old in the back seat.

I nurse my migraines with both wine and ibuprofen. I rub my temples because honestly, without naming names, some of my children couldn't carry a tune if I crazy-glued it to their palms. I get teary-eyed, patiently waiting for the musical chaos to cease. I grind my teeth, hoping to ease the auditory pain by replacing it with a nice little case of TMJ. At this point, I am sure you are right there with me, wondering where in the hell this is going and how it could possibly end on a note of gratitude. Believe me, I ask myself the same thing as each day's music lesson begins and I, for the first time each day, am thankful for the slight hearing loss I have due to too many concerts in the days of yore.

There is, at the end of it all, a moment where the screeching, screaming, tra-la-la-ing ends and there is a pause; though I am thankful for that pause, that is not where my gratitude lies. It is in that, regardless of how good they are or how much room there is to improve, my children LOVE music. They love listening to it, singing it, dancing to it, making it, reading it, playing it, living it. They want to play instruments, be in the choir, dance across the room, and sing everything at the top of their lungs as if the whole world needed to hear (and, need it or not, they do!). So, once the ibuprofen kicks in, I smile at their love of and passion for any sound that resonates not just within the frame of the car, but inside themselves, as well.

Mr. Chatterbox.

DAY EIGHT - 8 November 2012 (on 9 November 2012....one day I will get back on top of this)

HE CAN TALK. That's right, folks, Uilleam can talk. It's not much, it's not clear, it's not always, but it's there. It happens, even in the right context! "Bye bye", "ball", "Aiko", "hello", "puppy", "Momma", "Taidhgin", "hay" (don't ask), "belly", "cup", "Daddy", and a handful more...not a lot, I know. I get it. I have one of my own who could speak in complete sentences at 18 months, so I know that Uilleam's handful of words is not impressive by most people's standards.

But -
for a kid who was so early in his birth, so delayed in his speech and in his hearing, and so used to having three other children talk for him, this is TOTALLY AWESOME.

Thank you for your words, sweet boy. Momma loves you.