The Week in Pictures

Monday was absolutely beautiful (high 20s) and we spent the morning at the park with friends. Here is Benjamin in his new hat which he chose himself. Choice for Ben implies insistence and it was this hat or bust. It definitely sets him aside as a country kid when we visit the city.

Here is Joe in my choice of hat; turns out it wouldn't have been Dave's pick.

And, finally, the empty (but for the piano) front room has been converted into a play room.

Just another view. We are very blessed in our new house of augmented circumstances. This last comment does highlight the need to change the name of our blog. Currently, the list includes:

1. The House of Augmented Circumstances

2. The House of Restored Sanity

3. The Retrieval of Joy (so much behind that one)

4. The Waters of Solitude

5. Down by the Bay or Where the Watermelons Grow (Dave likes neither of these)

6. Built on Rock (this is only because we live on a street whose name implies that our house is built on sand)

7. No more. That's actually not in the running; I just don't have any other names unless you can give me one.

A large component of our life.

The little boy who no longer needs a nap. He fell off a chair during quiet time; arrived at my lap crying and saying, "I'm tired,"; and promptly fell asleep next to me in the Lazy Boy. He is still there.

The Saints Calendar that I finally laminated and assembled. Rest assured that this is not my handiwork but that of a local woman whose genius is clearly demonstrated by the above. Jacob could not sleep until the late hours on the night that I began the assembly.

And just because you might be wondering what's on those little cards - here's today's. Now, off to help Jacob with a mass reading; he has been asked to read the first reading at school mass next Thursday. It is the conversion of St. Paul and it is long and has words like Damascus and Ananias. Clearly his teacher has great faith. The reading came home with a note from the teacher that said: We talked about Jacob reading slowly. Of course, next Thursday is one of two days on which I work during May and I will miss his mass debut. This might be a good thing as I would either burst out crying or laughing and neither would be controllable.

Swimming Upstream

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to live life radically; upstream; against the current; counter culturally. I won't tell you want I've been coming up with because I'm, well, still in the coming-up-with stage. But here are two quotes that provide food for thought:

"One must be alive to swim against the stream." (Based on a loose memory of a Chesterton quote. Need I point out that, by extension, the dead always float with the current.)

"Don't make your life into a bad movie version of what it could have been." (Ouch. God forbid that when I die, my life views like an ABC after-school special or, even worse, a CBC comedy... And, I almost forgot, this quote comes from Sister Mary Martha (no, not my sister) who, from my perusal of her blog (see sidebar), seems to be an indomitable little nun with a fabulous sense of humour; and the world needs a heck of a lot more of those.)

Room for two

We've been having a few sleeping problems lately. The source of the problem is found in our present sleeping arrangements; that is, present at least until last night.
Until last night, Jacob, Hannah and Benjamin were in one room and Joseph snoozed the night away in a room by himself. Our original intention was that Hannah and Joseph would share a room once we moved to our new house. However, plans went awry as one by one all the boys insisted on sharing a room with their beloved sister. Specifically: Benjamin (who, previous to our move, had never slept with Hannah) suddenly could not sleep without his female sibling. Thus, the current configuration of sleepers.
This proved a temporary solution as Jacob simply doesn't need the same amount of shut eye as the rest of his siblings. Hannah is able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat in a crowded room, but Benjamin insists on propping open his eyes until his older brother drops off. Thus, the following day Ben needs an afternoon nap to deal with his temper; and then the nighttime cycle is repeated. The overall result: a grumpy Benjamin who, some nights, wanders from room to room long after his sibs have entered dream land.
Mommy, at the end of her rope and desperate to find at least one hour of the day without her progeny, devised a solution. I knew that I could not separate Ben from Hannah but I also knew that Jacob is always up for an adventure - especially if it involves a flashlight. Thus: Ben and Hannah were left to sleep in the blue room while Jacob slotted into Joseph's room once baby J had hit the will-not-wake-up-no-matter-what stage of sleep. Jacob, who must read in order to fall asleep, was given a flashlight to use under the blankets. With saint book in hand (a new saint book purchased at the Polish tea at our church - Jacob brought the book to me and said, "I asked Ben which saint book he wanted and he grabbed Saint Book 6 and told me that he just had to have it." Oh really, I hadn't realised that Ben's reading had progressed so quickly. I digress.), Jacob slipped into his bed and under the covers and we heard no more from our oldest boy who fell asleep much sooner than on a normal night.
Of course, things can never flow smoothly and a wrench must always be thrown into our plans. I ushered Ben and Hannah into their abode and was met by tears from only girl. Oh no, what's wrong?
"I don't want to sleep alone."
"But, you're not alone, Ben is with you."
"But he doesn't know anything."
"Yes he does," slightly confused, "What do you mean?"
"He doesn't know anything!!!!"
"Huh?"
"I don't want to sleep without another big guy."
And, finally, after six years, our little girl admits to an attachment to her twin brother.

Epilogue: Ben and Hannah were tucked (using only minimal force) into bed and fell asleep much earlier than usual. Everyone is happy this morning and off to the park - somehow I have to renegotiate the mortgage (have you noticed the low rates?) and call about our missing child tax supplement in the next hour... We'll see.

Happy Saturday

There have been too many words lately and not enough pictures. However, I haven't taken too many pics lately and those that I have aren't too hot. I have dreams of taking gorgeous shots that I then tweak so that they become oohable; but, reality falls short and I can't find the tweaking function on blogger. Oh well. Dave is at the farm today with the three oldest and I am at home with little Joe. Dave is helping his dad pick stones. When I was first introduced to this life of seed and soil, I thought picking stones meant something like being bent over from the waist while picking small stones with one's hands. No. Shortly after our wedding, I found myself wearing a pair of Dave's farm pants and an old t-shirt while operating a back hoe and picking stones - read: semi-boulders. Very liberating; extremely empowering; and an excellent addition to one's CV.
Anyway, one child usually means that I should wash the floor, clean the bathrooms and do copious amounts of laundry. Hmmm, maybe I should just relish in the little arms that are wrapped around my neck as their owner scrunches up his nose and breathes into my hair. Scratch that, said arms just turned off the computer and owner is laughing. Now, there's a good picture.

Yes, he spends a lot of time on the table.

I wish you could hear his laugh.

And, now, he's into the butter.

Smart sickness

My ears perked up while listening to the noon-hour show on CBC today as the host introduced her next topic: a study out of Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto on the long-term effects of the anti-nausea drug, Diclectin.
The first trimesters of my pregnancies are nauseous, to say the least. With each pregnancy I have been hospitalised at least once for the purpose of rehydration. With the twins - much, much more. Thus, although reluctant, I have taken Diclectin.
So, when I heard the name of my drug of choice mentioned on the radio, I had to tune in. (I even asked Dave to call back when his daily phone call coincided with the radio segment!) Listen up all you Diclectin-loving mothers: no adverse effects. Yay! (Morning sickness, although still somewhat of a mystery, results from an upsurge in certain hormones present during pregnancy particularly during the major developments that occur during the first trimester. Diclectin does not affect these hormones; it treats the symptoms caused by the hormones.)
What's more: the study, although originally intended to only study the affect of Diclectin on fetal development, revealed some very interesting information on severe morning sickness and fetal development.
The medical community has always suspected that morning sickness is a good thing. Common sense tell us that. And, lately, there have been a few key studies verifying that morning sickness equals less miscarriage, less cardiac abnormalities and so on. But, the Diclectin study, revealed something else: the more severe the morning sickness, the higher the baby's IQ. I always knew my suffering was not in vain...

~A new study out of the Hospital for Sick Children found babies whose mothers experienced morning sickness later tested a few IQ points higher than children of mothers who had nausea-free pregnancies.
“In a very popular way it kind of says that this suffering is for a good cause,” said Dr. Gideon Koren, a top Sick Kids pediatrician and the senior study author. “So it’s very reassuring to know that your severe experience right now is likely to have a good outcome.”~

from ProWomanProLife

Incredible Feats

From now on, please ignore that little time clock at the bottom of my posts: it is horribly wrong. Perhaps, if I were living in another hemisphere, it might be correct; but it is not, and I can lay no claims to anything but sleep by 6 in the morning.

Catching up

Well, we're back from Theology of the Body to face Theology of the Laundry: five loads (front-loader size), spot-treated, washed, dried and put away. That's all for now.

At sixes and sixes

Six years ago today, it was very cold in the big city. I don't recall going outside that day but I do remember looking out at a grey and blustery scene from my hospital window. I had been awake for almost 30 hours; made it through three shift changes in hospital personnel; defeated three epidurals and one anaesthetist; been introduced to the breast pump that seemed to whirr my name (a common occurrence to many young moms); and, now, I lay in my bed in the midst of the SARS crisis sans visitors except for two little noses poking above separate isolettes. Funny how it's always their noses that I remember: so very different. I also recall feeling completely overwhelmed, exhausted and wondering why the marathon that is motherhood can't start with a good night's sleep?
Six years later things are quite different. I slept well last night; ran early this morning; and fit easily into my pants. However, I now have four little noses that greet me each day. This morning, as I finished my run and crested the hill leading to our home, the door of our house opened and out sprinted a little girl dressed in her birthday finery and screaming for her brothers to follow as Mommy was home. Three little boys hurtled out of the door: one holding up his pajama pants while asking for the removal of his diaper and the youngest just barely in the arms of his oldest brother - each one of them wanting to hold my hand.
We've come along way in six years and I am so thankful.

Let the ripping open begin and last exactly 37 seconds. Reminiscent of Christmas morning, Benjamin began to wonder which gift he could tear apart; Hannah, always generous, passed him one of hers.

Breakfast with two new ponies and ice cream. Yes, you read that correctly; why not start at breakfast?

Peanut butter and toast, fried eggs with ketchup, and ice cream.

Like peeing on the road, Ben probably now thinks that ice cream at breakfast is a regular occurrence and, I imagine, will ask for it tomorrow.

Joseph had yogurt and I caught him mid sneeze.

We then headed off to the park where I promised a morning of play and a picnic lunch.

Joseph riding the dinosaur which Benjamin insists is an alligator.

We had 5 extra playmates who arrived at the park at the exact same moment as we did. A largish van pulled into the parking lot and 5 kids, all around two years apart, piled out. Their license plate was from New york and the dad quickly introduced himself. Three more kids were with mom visiting the local Academy as a possible post-secondary schooling option. I did my best to sell them on our little-college-that-could and we spent a wonderful morning with a delightful family. (They also had a Hannah and a Joseph.)

I think that we have the best park that I have ever seen; mostly because it is situated on the shores of a beautiful lake and has a row of willow trees - I love willow trees. Hannah told me that her new friend, Grace (4 years old), had never been to a park before because, in Hannah's words, "There's not really much stuff in the United States."

The babies - immobilised.

I will be quiet over the weekend as Dave and I are off to a weekend of training in the Theology of the Body/God's Plan for a Joy-Filled Marriage in order to be part of the marriage preparation team in our diocese. This is a marathon training session and might require some sort of IV hook-up at the local Tim Horton's. Roll up the rim: I'm still trying to win the Toyota but, as I keep telling Dave, unless Toyota's newest car is called Re-Essayer, I'm out of luck.)

Time to say Goodnight

I've never been too crazy about Elmo but Andrea Bocelli is another story. Enjoy.

Easter Highlights

Here are the kids immediately after their Easter egg hunt following Mass on Sunday. Dave gave each of them a map with separate clues so that no one could arrive at a location first and claim the whole loot. Thus, the kids ran around the house in an absolute flurry finding chocolate hidden in linen closets, under pillows and on window ledges. Thankfully, this was entirely Daddy's project and all I had to do was lead Ben around to each of his destinations. Of course, there has to be at least one humourous anecdote: Dave had carefully left his prizes in 30 different locations. However, the remaining chocolates were sitting on the dining room table in a clearly visible pile. Each time that Ben was given a direction (e.g. Go to the toy box; Go to the dog bowl), he would pass the table and look at the pile of chocolate; then he would look at Dave and I with concession and a bit of suspicion as if to say, "OK, if you say so, but there's a perfectly good pile of candy sitting right there in front of me." Don't children always have a way of finding the loophole?
p.s. If I were to use blog names instead of the real names of my husband and kids, Dave would be called Mr. Solid (just like Hannah's Easter Bunny; unfortunately, there is also a Mr. Nutty and a Mr. Fruity).

This is where I found Joe yesterday when I began to wonder why things were so quiet.

I decided to sit and watch before I reprimanded. Much to my surprise, when he began to realise that he had made a mess, he toddled off to the drawer that houses the face cloths and toddled back with flannel in hand to try and wipe things up. Who knew that he was aware of the face-cloth location, let alone their many uses?

If you read this blog with any frequency, you will have realised that I am always slightly behind the timing of major celebrations. It's as if my energy kicks in the day after major feast days - I operate in Feast-Day Savings Time. So, this cake was produced yesterday (Tuesday). It is decorated with a cross and a J (for Jesus, not Jacob) and Hannah wrote, "Jesus is Risen" on one side while Jacob wrote, "Jesus is Risin" on the other. I was very tempted to add an apostrophe to Jacob's version (Jesus is Risin') and thus have one side in the perfect tense and one side in the imperfect tense, Valley style.

And, lastly, here is Hannah maintaining total control: one baby and one dog - both securely tethered to their mother/owner.

Hannah's Musings

I have a batch of pizza dough rising in a bowl on the counter. Next to it is the recipe for the dough, labeled: Homemade Pizza Dough. Under the ingredient list is a paragraph of instructions about the usual stuff: mixing, kneading etc.
After putting the little boys to bed, I found Hannah at the counter looking at the recipe in confusion.
She asked me, "Why does this say homemade pizza dough?"
I replied, "Because I am making it."
Looking slightly perplexed, she then asked, "Then why is there a list of words and not phone numbers?"
I hope you can follow her line of reasoning as easily as I did.

For your viewing pleasure

In advance, I apologise for the choppiness of my filming and the resulting mini films. Our home movies are made with a humble Kodak digital camera which requires me to keep my arm raised and my finger firmly on the button. The result: my arm begins to shake and my finger locks so that it acquires a mind of its own that sometimes refuses to follow its owner's advice. One more excuse: I brought an almost-three-year-old with me who, upon his first time entering the kindergarten room, was overcome with the sheer volume of toys, particularly the toy kitchen. Thus, as my filming began, so did this preschooler's interest in banging toy pots and pans while rocking madly in the plastic rocker. After I had successfully reined him in, he then decided that the perfect revenge was to add to the woes of my right arm by hanging on it and whining loudly when disciplined to let go. Little Ben certainly has his own bag of tricks. Despite the mentioned setbacks, the play went off without a hitch (at least for a play performed solely by people under the age of seven).
I don't think that Jacob knew that I was filming as he is waiting in anticipation of the flash with his picture smile.
You will notice that Jacob has somehow acquired a mafioso-style of speech: "In the name of the Fadder, and of de Son and of de Holy Spirit." I, as his mudder, am endeared.
The little boy in constant motion in the sweater vest is Jacob's closest friend. Hannah is on one end of the blanket and, her brother tells me, she was chosen for her role as she understood the intricacies of Miss P's nods. Interestingly, the boy playing Jesus was chosen for his remarkable ability to stay still! I apologise for my voice-over at the end of the clip as I had to attempt to lure Ben back from cooking.
Highlights: Jacob rewrites the Stations of the Cross as Jesus falls for the seventh .... ooops, second time at the Seventh Station. Shortly after the 4-minute mark, I winked at our little narrator; he makes a concerted attempt to return the gesture. And, what play would be complete without the inevitable chirp of a cell phone. No, not mine; ours is long dead as the recharging cord went missing in our move.
I apologise for the hasty end but some more Benjamin admonition was required; also, my finger began its great rebellion from which it only recovered in time for the bunny songs, phew. Enjoy.

Bouncing Bunnies

Jacob and Hannah's class presented a tableau version of the Stations of the Cross on Holy Thursday afternoon. Jacob acted as narrator, welcoming the audience and announcing each Station. Hannah along with a fellow classmate traipsed back and forth across the stage with a blanket to shield the actors as they changed positions. Dear little Hannah almost didn't make the play as she was sick the night previous. However, she had rallied by Thursday afternoon and was insistent that she come to school with Ben and I to view the presentation. I think that the after-party (with many treats) was a big draw. I have been trying to load the clip of the Stations but I am having trouble; so, until I overcome my technical difficulties, I will leave you with the videos of the song time that followed the Stations. I tried my best to get Hannah in as many shots as possible but she was successful at remaining hidden for most of the songs. I could have stood just short of centre stage to capture little Hannah on camera, but, I didn't think that would go over well with the other parents. As you will see, Jacob was infinitely easier to get on camera. Actually, I was a little shocked at his enthusiasm and asked his teacher if he was always so excitable. She just smiled and nodded. My neighbour, whose granddaughter is in the twins' class, said to me afterward, "That one, he's hyper, eh?" Only slightly.
p.s. The strange noise in the middle of clip no. 1 was another child burping very loudly during the performance. Definitely not my child.

Easter Saturday - Waiting

This song brings back so many memories from WYD 2002 and being newly married. The accompanying footage is even more evocative. Many emotions.

p.s. When Jacob viewed this clip, he asked me, "Who's that?" I replied, "That's Jesus." Jacob's eyes grew very wide and his mouth dropped open. I quickly added, "I mean, an actor playing Jesus." When Hannah arrived, she saw the empty shroud and asked, "Is He naked?" I nodded and she said, "Ewww," and averted her eyes. Good girl.

Black and White

I just found this incredibly cute. Plus, there are some family members who have a certain fondness for tuxedo-ed birds. Feel free to watch as much as you want.

Geeks who Communicate

I have found that Dave and I have a variety of ways of communicating. Perhaps one of the most interesting is one which I only just realised: the wallpaper on our laptop. I don't touch the wallpaper setting on our computer; but it changes regularly, and usually late at night after I have headed to bed while Dave works away at marking and planning. I tend to find the changes the next morning after the pandemonium of breakfast, goodbyes and dishes. I realised this morning that I have come to look forward to opening the computer to see what greets me. Most of the time, a photo of the kids sits behind the various icons; sometimes a painting that Dave has found; or the text of a prayer. The common theme uniting the various wallpapers is that they are all something about which my dear husband is thinking. I am often deeply touched that he has spent time scrolling through the many pictures that I take of the kids to find the one that he thinks is the best. This morning I opened the computer expecting to see three of the kids with Grandpa Mike checking the sap buckets. No, the wall had been stripped and in its place was the front cover of a book. I have only spoken briefly with Dave today to quickly check in about the kids, the van's appointment tomorrow and other mundane details. He left early morning and will not be home until late tonight due to union meetings. But, I googled the book title, found its website and discovered a trailer. I have included it for your viewing interest as, even though I don't enjoy sales promotions, I do hope to bring up some geeks. I'm guessing that Dave does too.

Catching some zzzs

I guess that Benjamin did need his afternoon nap. That zizzing sound is indeed Ben snoring. And, sadly, they are back in snowsuits as winter returned enforce on Monday - one last Lenten scourge. Oh, and no, Ben is not wearing a backpack for school; he just insists on stuffing a pack with Jacob's trains and wearing it on all outings - another version of The Great Train Robbery.

Our Easter Garden

It's Palm Sunday: the beginning of Holy Week. It is a busy week for us in many ways and we have arrived at this last week feeling wrung out by colds and flues, trips and appointments, anxieties and responsibilities, and much, much more. Essentially, we are stumbling across the Lenten finish line and falling into Easter. Fortunately, I have heard that at-wit's-end is the best way to arrive at the celebration of Jesus's triumph over death.
I suppose that a significant part of the Lenten purpose is to show us that we are entirely dependent on the grace of God and the saving action of the Cross: there but for the grace of God go I. So, in my humble attempt to help our kids enter into this Holy Week, I have (with their generous help) constructed an Easter Garden. The idea came from an absolutely gorgeous blog; in the words of one good friend, "quite possibly the most beautiful blog I have ever seen." Ann at http://www.aholyexperience.com/ walked me through the Easter Garden in a recent post and I will do the same for you with the accompanying photos.
There is something wonderful about miniature worlds and the Easter Garden is just that. It is a micro-world teeming with life in which our children can tangibly follow the path of salvation from the Cross (the tree) to the empty tomb. My older sister mentioned how much she loves Holy Week over at http://www.whatireallymeanttosay.wordpress.com/ and I have to echo her sentiments.
I remember from the earliest of ages an almost palpable mystery and sanctity about this most holy of weeks. The liturgies have a fantastic ability to bring tears to my eyes as Good Friday proclaims the wood of the Cross while the Easter Vigil acknowledges that happy sin of Adam which gained for us so great a Saviour. Memories from my childhood are woven throughout this week and I am so thankful that my parents insisted that we attend everything even when Stephen Sadoway had a birthday party on Holy Thursday: "You can go after Mass, Elena." (How to mortify a girl in junior high.)
This is a holy week and it is a powerful week, and I am just going to try to be in it and follow the advice of my priest: Come before Jesus and let your love for Him pour out of your heart. He is far more generous than we, and when your love and His meet, miracles will happen.

The beginnings.

Waiting for the sun.

Tilling the soil.

Everyone is involved.

No surprise.

Coming together.

Little hands at work making the tomb and placing the stones that form the path leading from tree to tomb.

Revelling in his work.

View from above and indoors.

Evening prayer time watching with bated breath (literally so as not to blow out the candle).

Six candles signifying Palm Sunday through til Easter Saturday. All goes dark on Good Friday and the stone is rolled across the entrance to the tomb.

The candles light the way through the garden and home.

Split grades

In the land of schools with populations under 60 students, many classes become split grades. For example, teacher-husband is in charge of a gr. 7/8 split. The other two classes at his school are a gr.1/2/3 class and a gr.4/5/6 class - these are called triple splits. The above picture is photographic proof that I, too, have a triple split. Sleep is excellent classroom management.