Twinlet Musings

During the afternoons at our house the babies (Ben and Joe) nap and the twins, when not at school, spend time playing quietly in the basement while I have my own quiet/alone time. These afternoon hours usually culminate with me in the Lazy Boy with a book in hand. My taste varies from informative and non-fiction to a good old murder mystery. Usually I swing between the two. At the moment I am in the world of P.D. James thanks to the French teacher at Dave's school who loaned me a stack of James's books as well as a pile of BBC Miss Marple videos. In my opinion, geriatric British women seem to have an unusual taste for blood. (And yes, I do mean geriatric as James who is well into her eighth decade penned her last novel, The Private Patient, while convalescing in a private hospital.) Now I must warn you that the twins' quiet time is not particularly silent and my policing of it is mostly done from my armchair accompanied by a few dire warnings issued from the top of the basement stairs. Towards the end of quiet time, one or both of the twins usually glides silently into the room to stand expectantly at my elbow wondering what time it is (i.e. can we come up yet?). They alternate this question with what they think are covert trips to check the stove clock. The covert nature of these trips is always ruined by one of them running back downstairs and yelling, "Only 6 more minutes!" Anyway, today both twins arrived at my chair to tell me that they had only one minute left. At the time, I was absorbed in P.D. James' The Murder Room.
Hannah innocently asked, "Are you reading the Gospel or is that the Bible?"
"Ummm, neither. It's a mystery story." (Well I guess an argument could be made for Scripture fitting under the mystery genre...)
"But what's it called?" asked Jacob, "The Munder Room?"
"Uhh, it's by P.D. James." Please don't ask me what murder is.
"Yes, but what's it called?"
"The Murder Room," said Mommy under her breath and quickly hoping that this would divert more questions, "How 'bout some TV?"
The last and shameless offer did the trick. These twins are on to me. Thank God I already finished Death in Holy Orders.

Our Babies

Update to the celebrity look-alike collage - I ran a different picture of myself and came up with:

1. Condaleeza Rice

2. Tom Cruise

3. Pedro Martinez

4. Rahjiv Gandhi

AND

5. Danny DeVito

Ackkk!!!!

What I do with my time? Alternate title: Cary, you asked me what I did with my time?

OK, I can't believe that I actually posted that celebrity look alike thing. I only posted it because the site seemed to provide no other option for saving the collage except posting it to my blog or to Facebook. I chose the blog as Facebook is FAR too public and embarassing. It's kind of a fun adventure that, I think, is designed to make you feel good about yourself. The funniest thing is that I recognise maybe three of those celebrities and one of them is around 12 years old! The next time someone tells me that I remind them of someone, I will definitely tell them that it must be Dakota Fanning.

Celebrity Collage by MyHeritage

MyHeritage: Celebrity Collage - Family tree template - Genealogy message boards

Lots of Sick Tummies

OK, I know that the family and children is a horse that I like to ride but I am in the thick of it and both are subjects of lots of thought for me. So, forgive me if I have once again deviated from twinlet musings and family mayhem to post something of a more political nature.

Part of the reason for this posting is a BAD stomach flu that is running its course through our family and not allowing me much time for thoughtful and articulate writing. I think that we are almost finished (if my last head count is correct) although I'm not sure if Benjamin has really been through the throw-up wringer yet. The baby actually threw up in my hair this morning. The funny thing was that it didn't really bother me that much. Please God, mercy!

Anyway, this video provides food for thought about a topic that rarely lands in the mainstream media. When people comment on our family size one of my responses has been, "Well, you're looking at the future of your social fabric. You want medicare? You want your pension? Then you better hope that I'm having children." I once saw the demographic crisis discussed in the Editorial section of the city paper, but that's where it ended because it's a problem with a politically incorrect solution and runs contrary to the population bomb theory that so many of us have been raised on. So, what do you think?

Obusha

So he isn't the saviour of the world. I couldn't resist this link:

http://www.creativeminorityreport.com/2009/01/is-this-what-you-call-change.html

A New Era

I heard on the news today that President Obama had, as one of his first moves in office, given the green light for embryonic stem cells to be freely used in medical research. I am deeply angered by this. If one truly believes that life starts at conception and that, therefore, the embryo is actually a real human being and not a mass of cells that represents some sort of potential for life, then this presidential move is absolutely no different than Hitler's medical experiments on the Jews. This move on the part of the Obama administration (the most pro-abortion in the history of the States) was completely expected, but I am still awed by the rapid nature of these changes. How many days until he ushers in the Freedom of Choice Act repealing the bans on partial birth abortion (essentially infanticide)? I am completely aware that there are far more eloquent commentators than I on the new era that dawned on Tuesday, but I am angered and felt that this slight departure from the usual family blog fare was justified. Here is a clip for your contemplation.

Bring on the Heat

Since our journey into home ownership began we have been blessed to have a woodstove in all of our houses so that we can supplement the cost of our furnace. On top of this, we also receive our wood for free from Grandpa Mike. (There are definite benefits to in-laws with a few hundred acres on their hands.) Dave helps his Dad with labour and, in return, we pick up our wood every few weeks from Grandpa's woodshed. Dave then carts the wood home and loads it into his new (and beloved) garage. However, there is a new addition to this routine: the kids have now been added as a link in the labour chain. Joseph, of course, is still an observer. Amazingly the kids set up their own production line and Dave's job went a lot faster than usual. As dearest husband is fond of saying, "One day, Elena, all these kids will pay off in labour costs." Accounting runs deep in his genes.

The pics of Jacob in cowboy gear were entirely of his own doing. I looked out the kitchen window to discover that he had ventured out into the deep-freeze wearing only rubber boots, a cowboy vest and hat, and an open jacket. I quickly lassoed him back inside but not before a picture for the blog.

Snowbirds

Benjamin with the upper hand

Only daughter's camera smile (inherited from her mother).

The Thinker

Shameless self portrait.

Jacob asked me to take this picture.

The Netters have departed for their next destination and though their stays are always enjoyable I also cherish the order that returns to our home when it's "just us". No brilliant posts have been formulating in this mother's mind but I have discovered that I have begun to think 'in blog'. Does that make sense? Anyway, not much to post but that January has definitely set in and I can now legitimately hope for Spring. A few days ago I told Dave that I prayed that we would win a trip down South - can you believe that this was actually a genuine prayer on my part? Oh dear, I better reacquaint myself with some real needs. Maybe someone else could do some trip-interceding for me! On a more practical level: my sister told me that I need to change the name of the blog as our house is definitely no longer diminished. So, I've got some thinking to do. Any suggestions? Well, I'm rambling so here's some pictures, none of which are of Barack Obama...

Clothed in White

Today I caught the twins trying on their baptismal gowns. Let me emphasize that they were baptised at 10 days of age.

Blogging Blitzes

My sister asked me to post pictures of the new house, so I decided that I would kill two birds with one stone. Thus, you will find pictures of the great room, dining room/kitchen and three bedrooms in a before and after sequence. I looked around this morning following the usual set of familial goodbyes at the door and found myself, once again, in a house that looked like it had exploded. I am usually faced with the choice of cleaning or showering at this point but I had, for some unknown reason, gotten dressed prior to Dave's departure this morning. Therefore, I began my daily clean-up and am proud to say that I was not wearing my pajamas after 9am today. Nevertheless, it is after 4 pm and Benjamin is still wearing his. Ok, now that I see the pictures posted, I realise that they are in a before/after, after/before sequence. I have always had real problems with my spatial sense and the fact that the first photo that I post always becomes the last constantly leaves me stumped ... shades of grade 10 math.

The Week in Photos

Post-supper, post-wine...

These are two of our lovely NET girls. Amy is from Winnipeg and Katie is from St. John, NB. Both are from families of seven and have had one or more siblings serve on NET.

Here they are again. This is our third girl, April. She is from outside of Edmonton, AB and is the oldest of eight. I imagine that she might also start the NET trend in her family.

This is Hannah performing her magic-ice-cream-cone trick. Can you figure it out?

This is Jacob performing his disappearing food trick - alternatively titled, "I am a little boy who requires large amounts of food after exiting the school bus".

This is Sammy and Joseph. Neither are performing a trick.

Mini Post

This is officially a quickie post to let you know that I am still out here and posting. It' s been a busy week as I worked on Wednesday, three NET girls arrived for a week on Tuesday night, we had a wake on Wednesday night and a funeral Thursday morning at which the baby vomited twice. Thus, the house is busy. Everything has moved indoors here as we are in the midst of a deep freeze (-20, -35 with the windchill). I will get some pictures up today.

Updates

For those of you who are having trouble sleeping worrying about the success of B's potty efforts ... here is a picture of our little boy in his team-in-training outfit. (I told Dave that Ben's get-up reminded me of the girls volleyball team at the high school.) I am happy to report that he has become quite successful at peeing on the potty and takes this job very seriously and with a sense of real emergency. The entire household is thrown into high gear when we hear a high-pitched voice yelling, "I'm pooing, I'm pooing." (This denotes a need to pee.) Little B comes running towards the bathroom where he is met by a collision of Mom, Dad and Hannah as we simultaneously attempt to hoist him onto the pot. It's a wonder that he has achieved his goal with such elders in attendance.

And here is little Joe. His climbing has required a removal of the chairs from the table as we await the end of this precarious climbing phase. I recall this chair stage with the twins except that the chairs were constantly on top of the table. I hadn't realised how strange it looked until an older neighbour popped in and couldn't stop laughing. I prefer to think that the kitchen always looks like I am just about to wash the floors. Anyway, this shot is post-dinner last night. We have found that clean-up (especially that of the floor) is far easier with the little boy strapped in. I don't believe that there are any lasting psychological effects...

And this is a memorial to my little girl's thoughtfulness. I arrived at breakfast this morning to find that she had decorated a chair just for me. She had used a birthday card from my mother and a few other crafty items to dress up the chair and its accompanying sign which read, "No one having this chair 'cept Mommy." What a girl!

Skidoos, Shoes and Sanctity (or, How I need to pay better attention at Mass)

Joseph is napping, Jacob and Hannah are playing some sort of dress-up game involving trains and lassos, Benjamin just woke up with bright red ears from a late nap and Dave, sounding a bit like a leaky air mattress, is asleep on the couch. We enjoyed a last minute brunch date with some new friends after Mass and, thus, the whole day has been shifted forward by two hours. I am taking advantage of the relative quiet to jot down a few thoughts. The only interruption to this peaceful state is the sound of skidoos in the background. We have a trail that runs behind our house and mercifully only seems to be in use on the weekends. Skidoos are one of the annoying facts of life in our small town. For those of you who have never heard the sound of a skidoo breaking the silence of a winter afternoon ... the closest sound is that of a mosquito circling near your ear as you approach the edge of sleep. Except, of course, that a skidoo is much louder and can't be squished by the swat of the hand. Years ago I did some practice teaching at the local high school. In the middle of the lesson my ears were accosted by a loud and disturbing sound outside of the school. I stopped the class to look out the window and figure out what could possibly be going on. The students all laughed as the non-local watched as students arrived at school atop their snow machines. One of the students (who was itching to blow out of town) quickly piped up, "Welcome to town, Miss." I am sure that student will never know that he and I have switched places. (Now for an awkward transition to a new thought.)

Speaking of switching places, little Joe required that I leave the comfort of my pew for some standing room only at the back of our church. I am not joking that there is standing room only. Our new church is quite literally packed and upwards of twenty people stand throughout Sunday mass. Very encouraging. Anyway, Dave is usually the parental authority at the back of the church, but due to our positioning in the pew and an immovable parishioner on Dave's side, it was I who headed back with a naughty babe in arms. I repeated to myself Dave's back of the church mantra, "Keep him in my arms, don't let go, he must learn that leaving the pew is not fun. Keep him in my arms, don't let go..." when my thoughts were jolted from their meditation by the shoes of the man kneeling in front of me. Two different shoes. His right foot was wearing a black, Oxford dress shoe, well worn on the ball of his foot with soles that would give no traction in the snow and ice. His left foot was tucked into a brown, all-purpose, rubber-soled shoe with no signs of wear. I studied the shoes and then glanced at the upper half of his body to see if it held any clue to his questionable footwear. Nope. He was around 60 years of age and wearing a very fashionable black leather jacket. I checked the feet again to see if I had the right ones matched up. Yup. I still have no idea what precipitated his choice of shoe and probably never will. However, I am comforted by the knowledge that St. Teresa of Avila admittedly spent the first 18 years or so of her religious life staring at the heel of the Sister in front of her. Perhaps I too will graduate from shoes to sanctity.

Oldest Son

Some sort of cold/flu has hit our house again taking down Daddy on Thursday and Friday and knocking me out today. Nevertheless, we had to keep going as we have a NET team arriving on Tuesday for a week's stay. Thus, the basement bedroom needed assembling, the bathrooms required a good scrubbing and linens had to be laundered. I was able to rest in the afternoon as Dave and Hannah worked downstairs, Joseph napped, Jacob read and Benjamin played.

Post nap and pre-supper, in that hour when all things go awry, I decided that what was needed was a walk. More specifically, I thought that Joseph should go outside so that Dave could work with a little more quiet. Actually, after depositing Joseph downstairs, he had been delivered back into my arms soaking wet and smelling yeasty. He had knocked over his Daddy's beer and had proved to be the proverbial straw to Dave's camel. However, after Joseph told me in no uncertain terms that he was not going to be put into his snowsuit, Dave agreed to a ceasefire and I put out a call to the troops. A yes from Jacob was my only answer.

It is rare that I get time alone with only one of the kids; still more rare that it happens to be Jacob. Jacob is a very intelligent young boy with a good deal of energy who, if I am honest, can be challenging at times. When all the other kids are asleep in the van he is always left awake waving to us from his distant seat. When I tiptoe into the bedrooms to turn out lights, I am often greeted by a, "Whatcha doin'?" or, "Hi, Mom!" from the oldest of our crew. Much to my regret, it is seldom that I ever get to just be with this remarkable little boy and absorb (with wonder) that, frustrations aside, he is really something else.

We set off into the frigid cold of our northern town and, despite two very bulky pairs of mitts, he insisted on holding my hand the entire walk. I didn't dare let go. As we walked and he talked, I re-saw why this little boy can be so charming. His first remark upon stepping outside was, "I like your new hat, Mom. It is very cute." He then spent the rest of our time conversing about conditions on the moon, the North Star, his dislike of skidoos, the playground at school (which he showed me), Saints, Grandpa Nick and many other subjects. I was renewed in my commitment to this little boy as he revealed to me a little more of who he is becoming. As we returned to the warmth of our home, I reflected that it is rare to meet a five-year old gentleman but today I took a turn around the block with one.

Only Daughter

If you want a good idea of what our little Hannah's personality is like, just take a look at her attempt to console Mommy by patching together the broken pot. Lots of scotch tape. As you might have guessed, she is incredibly intuitive and sensitive to the moods of those around her. If possible, she tries to lighten my load and her efforts are becoming increasingly helpful. She is also a work horse. I am astounded what her 3ft6in, 38 pound body can do. Today, without any prompting, she carried two baskets of laundry from the basement to the living room. She then informed me that the wet clothes had been transferred to the dryer and all I had to do was "turn the thing that makes it go on". She also helped shovel our very large driveway twice today. I used the large scoop while she followed behind with a shovel. I was truly amazed at how much her efforts actually contributed to the overall job. She never seems to tire and told me today that she was such a big help because she had "too much energy to get out." She has also taken over the role of pouring bottles and keeps both of her little brothers well supplied. This is one area which we will have to work on in regard to Benjamin (2.5 yrs)! As the boys mound up around me, I am continually thankful for this little girl whose personality shines like a gem within our home.

Youngest Son

Our children are bookended by very similar personalities. As Dave says, "Aren't you glad Jacob and Joe weren't the twins?" I shudder at the thought.

Lunches

Jacob forgot his lunch today; on his first day at a new school. Rather, taking into account his tender age, I forgot his lunch today. I found out when the teacher phoned at lunch wondering if there was some location (of which she hadn't yet thought) where J's lunch could be. I opened the fridge and replied, "Not unless you're in my kitchen." She said not to worry as she could scrounge up some crackers for him. I told her that Hannah could surely share some of her food. I hung up and prayed that Jacob could survive off of the apple and granola bar that had made it to school with him. I had to laugh about the situation because no matter how hard I try, I always manage to forget one major thing.
For example, I once sent J and H for a weekend at Grandma's with everything packed but shirts for J. He wore a zip-up hoodie for his entire visit. I've also left behind essential documents, baby bottles and diapers on some of our many outings. These forgotten items never fail to be most needed until there are many people gathered to witness the ineptitude of this mommy. Oh well, at least I can find humour in this.
So, when I sat down to peruse the daily readings today, I had to really laugh when I read the Gospel as it was the story of the feeding of the five thousand. In it Jesus feeds five thousand men by blessing five loaves and two fish offered by a young boy. Somehow I doubt that he had packed his own lunch; behind that little Eli or Moshe there was a Jewish mother ruling over her household with great skill. As I pondered these readings (I won't say contemplated as I have never successfully done such a thing), I had to smile at the contrast between my son's lunch and that of today's Gospel. Jacob's character ensures that he would have rushed to Jesus' feet with his lunch as an offering. However, his mother's forgetfulness would have turned today's Gospel into a whole 'nother story. Thank God for that dear Jewish lady who didn't forget her son's lunch that day. May she pray for me.

Things just got better

My night brightened when I read this quote:

That is the great things about us Catholics, we never deviate from the rubrics of the laity. Child puking in your hand? Genuflect and make your way to the bathroom. Toddler has a flesh wound? Cross yourself and continue with direct pressure. A plane crashed into the back of the church? Make your way to the nearest exit, bless yourself with Holy Water and exit church.

Real Life Rosary WebLog

A Broken Pot

Today was one of those days (preceded by one of those nights). I won't even write about it. Tomorrow will be better. The picture says it all. Those broken pieces are the remains of two of my favourite pieces of Madonna House pottery. They sat on our bookshelf in front of a series of family photos. After supper, in a flurry of cleaning, I quickly removed a Madeline book that someone had placed on the shelf. As I walked away I heard an ominous sliding sound followed by a crash. I turned to see my beloved pots shattered on the floor. I really had only myself to blame, so I quietly swept up the mess and answered Dave's questions with a blank stare. Considering that Joseph fell off a chair twice today, Benjamin hit his head on the table while plummeting from a booster seat, and Jacob is still complaining about his sore forehead that resulted from some sort of collision with the counter, I should probably be thankful that the only photo I have for today is of a broken pot.

Happy Epiphany

Joseph really loves sweet potatoes

Benjamin really loves babies

So does Mommy

Jacob and his buddy (guess who's in time-out?)

More religious musings from the twinlets

Jacob and Hannah are at it again. They spent their lunch hour once again discussing their vocations. Hannah's desire to be a nun seems to be largely motivated by a need to be located where her twin brother cannot find her. I overheard her telling him that she just needs to be alone. (Mom, R, does this sound familiar?) Jacob said that he was definitely going to be a priest if only to follow her.
She said, "Well, Jacob, I know that this isn't true. Boys ALWAYS change their minds. Daddy once didn't want to marry Mom. He wanted to be something else but then he didn't want to be that thing and decided to marry Mom." (Dave spent three years in the seminary prior to meeting me.)
"So," she concluded, "Boys ALWAYS change their minds." This conclusion set her mind at rest and she returned to ordering her brothers to clean up the toys.

The vocation conversation was actually sparked by Jacob's reading of more Saint books. He read about St. Rose of Lima whose suffering brought her closer to God. He had asked me about this during a drive in the van and I had told him that suffering can bring one closer to God if we ask God to be with us in that suffering ... uhh, then I sort of got stuck because things were getting too complicated. So, I just told him to offer up any of his sufferings for those in need. The next day he told me that he was not going to watch TV until Jan.1st (about 4 days ). Jacob LOVES TV and I couldn't figure out what had motivated his decision. Today, I found out. I heard him explaining to Hannah how St. Rose had suffered for God.
He then said with great solemnity, "I have suffered too, Hannah." My ears perked up. "I have suffered for TV by not watching it so I have grown closer to God. I offered it up for all those who have never watched TV." God bless the TV-less.