Technical Difficulties

So, you know when your computer keeps sending you pop-ups that say things like, "Check Protection Status Now" or "42 Potential Threats Found", your computer isn't lying. At least that's what I found out. Dave had to reformat the whole machine last night and we lost all our favourites and, tragically, all pictures taken since mid-August. Thankfully, Dave, under some sort of inspiration, spent hours saving all of our pictures to a memory stick this summer. Also, thanks to the blog, the important moments from the last few months are recorded on here. Alas, we still have photographic proof that Jacob and Hannah started grade one this year.

Within hours of our computer succumbing to the 42 threats (sounds like a spy novel), the camera also started to act up. For now the camera has decided to pretend that it is on but refuses to show anything on its screen; when one presses the power button the flash goes off. I don't think I need to check the Made In sticker to guess its country of origin. So, no pictures for now but they will be coming; there are still kids here waiting for their moments of triumph and, ahem, despair to be recorded. Bear with me until we have navigated our way through the waters of technical difficulty. For now, enjoy the test pattern; I know my mother did as a child.

Entertaining the Needy

Dave's parents left on Thursday for an overseas pilgrimage to Medjugorje. This is quite the venture for his Mom and Dad who are nearing their seventh decade. His mother has a bit of the travel bug. She has traipsed across the country, through the USA and spent time in Paris and Israel. She is the sort of woman who would pack her bags at the drop of a hat for a far away land if the need arose. Dave's Dad, on the other hand, is a slightly different story.

Although his official career was spent crunching numbers in his accounting practice, he is a farm boy at heart. And, in my limited experience, most farm boys like to stay put (as evidenced by my father-in-law's abilities over the last 67 years). According to Dave's memory, his Dad ventured once to Cape Cod for his honeymoon, once to Winnipeg for business, spent the requisite amount of time in the big city and hightailed it back to the farm once circumstances allowed for the great escape. So, Medjugorje is a big deal.

This deal is made even bigger by the fact that he was born at home almost 70 years ago in a home with no power or running water where birth registration wasn't such a big deal. Baptism was. Therefore, when it came time for passport application his efforts were confounded by his lack of a birth certificate. Thankfully his baptismal records were easily accessible and his passport arrived with only days to spare before the big trip.

Come Thursday morning, both Grandma and Grandpa were one their way to the big city to catch a plane over the ocean blue. They made a quick stop here to pick up computer print outs of the upcoming cattle sale (the day after they arrive home). I suppose that these served as reading material for the flight over. Hannah was waiting with sheets of bovine facts in hand for her Grandpa who jumped from the van with a new haircut and a sparkling green John Deere cap. As always, he was smiling and joking and Grandma was waving from the back seat like a child heading into a candy store. The scene brought tears to my eyes as I watched them go.

Our children were a little confused by the whole adventure.

We went to the farm last night to pick up a jag of wood and Joseph wandered the house calling, "Boppa? Boppa?" However, the ultimate question came from our oldest, who, like his paternal grandfather, has a fondness for the television. A few days before the big departure, Jacob asked me and his Grandma how Grandpa would manage without TV; specifically without EWTN (Eternal Word Television Network).

"Will Grandpa bring the TV to Medjugorje?" This question sent his Grandma into a fit of giggles as one of her secret pleasures is having her grandchildren reveal her husband's foibles.

"Why Jacob?" I asked wanting to hear his reasoning behind the query.

"Well, is he bringing TV to the children of Medjugorje?" This was asked with a sort of missionary zeal.

This sent me into a fit of giggles as I pictured his Grandpa exiting the plane and passing out televisions and satellite dishes to needy children. If Jacob's understanding of the Corporal Works of Mercy is handing out TVs to the unfortunate, I think we have some work to do.

Of Ben and Bees

Just a little bee-keeping update: Ben saw the doctor on Wednesday and we were reassured that his hives will not proceed to anaphylaxis. Thank God. His immune system is over-reacting to something but, since we removed peanut butter, his hives have been under control. He is being sent for testing within the next few months. Joseph will also be tested for latex at that point. We shall see. I am feeling much relieved and actually quite happy to see the sugary peanut butter out of our house.
Hopefully I will soon have something of greater depth or humour to report. Pictures are also coming; we had some battery issues which have since been resolved.

Benjamin's Bees

Benjamin is absolutely adamant that he will grow up to be a farmer. While many little boys express this hope, Ben actually has a fighting chance since his paternal grandfather owns a 300 acre farm 20 minutes from our home. His Daddy also knows how to bring in hay, sow fields, till soil, fix combines and look after the needs of the bovine population. Apparently, Dave's best friend in seminary used to joke that if Dave ever left the seminary and got married, his wife would only need one skill - the ability to dig a fence post. No, I was never put to the test and I doubt that I would pass with anything close to flying colours. But, this post is not about farming.

While Ben wants to be a farmer - I think that he is going to be a beekeeper.

He has hives. Lots of them. He has had hives for eight days now and they come and go and appear after meals and any ingestion of food. Sigh.

He was seen by an ER doctor on his first day of hives and will be visiting our GP this week. We will take it from there. BUT. All the peanut butter and nut-related products are packed away and the kids are sacrificing their love of the PB for the sake of their brother. (We have noticed a correlation with nuts and Ben's hives so we're not totally grasping at straws.) Ben is aware of the nut ban (his favourite food is PB). Nevertheless, in the indomitable spirit of a child, last night he told a man at the ice-cream store the following:

"I have allergy. I went to the farm with Daddy and drove the tractor." All in a day's work. Pray for the little guy. He might grow up to be a farmer but he ain't going to be sowing nuts.

Of Teeth and Character

Today's post is a bit of a p.s. to my post of a few days ago about the uniqueness of our children. This irrepeatability covers even the most banal of events - if one can call the losing of one's teeth banal. I suppose, to a child and, yes, to his mother, the loss of the first few teeth is actually quite momentous. Jacob has now lost three teeth and Hannah recently lost her second. Truthfully, I think that the loss of their teeth is following the exact same schedule as their arrivals did - Jacob had a few pearlies before Hannah's gums even began to hurt. Nevertheless, I digress. On to the real story.
The story of Jacob's first lost tooth went something like this:
Day 1 - Tooth begins to wiggle and hurt.
Day 2-6 - Boy makes valiant effort to make tooth wiggle and hurt more.
Day 7- Boy asks Dad to wiggle tooth. Dad wiggles. Boy asks Mom to wiggle tooth. Tooth pops out in Mom's hand. Copious amounts of blood, spitting, mirror-looking and yahooing.
Day 1-7 - Loss of tooth is perfectly in line with boy's character.
Now, Hannah's story:
Day 1- Girl notices loose tooth. With great caution and girl's permission, parents gingerly wiggle tooth. Girl jumps back in pain and clamps mouth shut.
Day 2-14- All family members except for girl forget completely about girl's loose tooth. Memory loss is perfectly acceptable to girl.
Day 14-21- Family goes on vacation to family camp. Loose tooth is lost in mother's consciousness.
Day 23? - Girl walks from great room to dining room, opens her mouth to speak and mother hears a tick-tick as tooth flies out of mouth and lands on floor. No blood, no spitting, plenty of mirror-looking, lots of yahooing from girl's twin brother.
Day 1-24 - Perfectly in line with girl's character.
Hannah's second tooth: Much like the first except that youngest brother hits second tooth with book causing the tooth to spring from girl's mouth. Girl quickly forgives. Loss happens on second day of school allowing girl to become the first student to record her name on the big tooth in classroom. Boy feels the loss keenly.
And now, for the loss of Jacob's first top tooth:
Day 1-14 - Boy wiggles tooth, parents wiggle tooth, boy complains that tooth will never fall out...
Day 15- Boy runs in from backyard holding tooth in hand, spitting blood, running to mirror and yelling:
"I bit down real hard on the swing (wooden) and pretended it was sugar candy and my tooth came out!!!!!!!!!!!!! I get to sign the big tooth."
Once again: Perfectly in line with boy's character.

Now, if we could only help out the tooth fairy who seems to be perpetually late at our house leaving excuses like: "The T.F. always takes two days to deliver on top teeth." And, another thing, why does the T.F. give other kids trains and Barbies and mine only get golden coins?

A Boy and His Plans for Sanctification

Tonight at supper Jacob (the boy on the right) told us that he planned to remain at home at least until the age of 59. While Dave tried not to choke on his food my maternal heart warmed at the thought; after all, he still is only six and I am presently struggling at the sight of the big yellow school bus on weekday mornings.
Also, I can identify with his sentiments as I remember swearing, at the age of seven, to my then best friend as we walked to school, that I wouldn't even think about leaving my mother's side until around 110. She whole-heartedly agreed and we pledged our allegiance to a life lived at home by our parents' side.
I related this to Jacob and he asked how I managed to leave home if I had once wanted to stay so badly. I responded that things change and I left at 21, came back at 22 and left again for good at 23. It was then that Jacob suddenly foresaw a different future for himself and began to tell us of his grand plans.
He told us that he will go to university but, when he is finished he will come back, pray two Rosaries with me and depart for the most "pagin'" land that he can find.
"Pagin'?" Dave looking slightly perplexed.
"As in, "Paging Dr. Johnson. Dr. Johnson. Paging Dr. Johnson."?"
"No, I think he means pagan." After all I have heard him talk many times about the 'pagins' in the Bible.
"Yes, pagan. Which is the most pagan land, Mom: England, Rome or Japan?"
"Canada." Dave quickly inserts a vote for our home and native land.
"Well, Jacob: you've got a lot to choose from since many people have forgotten about God."
(Meanwhile Hannah is trying to make jokes about landing in Mommy's eye where she will carry on the work of evangelisation. Ben has decided that he will get lost in my mouth although he is determined that he does not need to shrink to make this happen.)
Jacob lets none of his siblings' antics throw him of course although he does allow a few chuckles for his twin's comments.
Nevertheless, he forges on: "I will found a group that will go with me to the pagan lands and we will tell people about God."
"Oh, what will you tell them?" Wondering if we have managed any catechesis in the last 6 and a half years.
"I will tell them to pray really hard and I will find as many Bibles as I can and I will go to Church three times a week."
"That's a good start. What about what Jesus did for us on the Cross?"
"Oh, yeah. I will tell them about Jesus when he was a little boy and what he did after high school."
"Really. And what about sin?"
With a boyish glint in his eye, he yells: "I will tell them to MELT THE DEVIL OUT OF THEIR HEARTS!!!!!!!"
"Oh. Wow. How can they do that?"
"With many Bibles and a few Rosaries. And by working hard and obeying their parents."
"Obeying their parents?"
"Uh, yeah. That's the part I find hard."
Or something like that.

Food for Thought

I never appreciate the hype of a trailer but I do appreciate the truth told by the film. Watch.

What do you hold onto?

I often marvel at the uniqueness of our children: the irrepeatability of the person. There are times that I take a deep breath, look at the little person standing before me and realise that the child at which I am looking is a completely unique person and must be treated accordingly. Amazing. Part of this uniqueness is that to which they are drawn.

Jacob is especially fond of books and the printed word while Benjamin has a particular devotion to farms, animals and agricultural implements.

Several times, I have found Jacob fast asleep clutching a book. However, this was the first time that the book had not yet toppled forward onto his face and was still in reading position. Just below, in the bottom bunk, Benjamin was gripping that which is most dear to him: farm animals. His little hand was filled with 'cows and hossies' and his head was resting on a John Deere pillow.

Stormy Weather

There are some weeks that are exceptionally hard. This has been one of them.

Tuesday saw Daddy and the twins return to school: Daddy under a new principal and in the second cycle of a split grade; Hannah and Jacob in their first year of full-time school - good bye at 8:15am, hello at 3:20pm.

The days are peaceful with the two youngest as we putter around the house, read books, play at the park and enjoy the quiet of the afternoon.

But then the big yellow school bus crests our hill and deposits our two oldest at the corner.

Jacob comes belting off the bus dragging his new lunch bag along the asphalt eliciting Mommy's reprimand as the first encounter. Hannah comes next - tired and spent. Today, the first day of the weekend, she is asleep on the couch with a fever and a sore tummy.

Jacob's reaction is not as physical as that of his sister. Instead, he launches off the bus in full sail bringing a raging storm with him. He is hungry, tired, and ready to burst at the slightest provocation.
"I'm hot, Mom. Can I have ice cream?"

"Since when do we have ice cream after school?"

"Humph." Feet stomp. Face scowls. Voices are raised. Biggest boy is holed up in his room in tears. Mommy is on the other side in a mix of emotion. And so it goes. Again and again. By this point the weather system has spread to the others and the peacefulness of our home has been turned upside down.

By the time Daddy arrives home, the storm has settled and all four are restored and playing happily together in the yard. But Mommy feels ripped to pieces and Daddy comes home to find her, much like her son, ready to burst at the slightest provocation.

And she does. The next morning.

But she doesn't quite know how to say what she wants to say, or what will help; so we pile into the van and go to Madonna House to find coloured bottles for the new nature table.

Token errand used as excuse to visit oasis of peace.

But we really go to meet Her.

We walk down the wooded path to the Shrine of Our Lady of Combermere and Jacob, in full cowboy gear, runs to the statue and throws his arms around Her waist. Benjamin, in imitation of his older brother, does the same. Hannah stares up at the Gentle Mother and places her hand gently on Her waist. Joseph, walking ahead of his daddy, turns back and grasps his father's hand and smilingly brings him to the Mother. Daddy places his hand in Her's - the habit of a life lived under Her Mantle. Mommy, who has always felt slightly awkward with public displays of affection, follows the lead of her children and that of her husband and places her hand on the coolness of the statue. She is thankful that she is wearing sunglasses as she whispers, "Help us, please."

And She does.

And She will.

Our little ship is in stormy seas; but we have a sure guide, a solid refuge and a lasting peace.

Here's to 33

So, if any of you out there know my friend Jaclyn and her cake wonders, you will quickly realise that she and I do not share a love of nor a talent for baking in common. Nevertheless, her recipe for a never-fail chocolate cake has now worked for me 5 times - this is a record coming from a woman whose children often hide her cookies so as to fake eating them. The occasion for the cake? My dearest David turned the auspicious age of 33 on Tuesday (his first day back at school). We feted him with chicken parmigiana, Caesar salad, garlic bread and the below cake. I counted the candles around 5 times but, as I have mentioned before, my spatial skills are next to non-existent and I am really unsure if there are 33 or 34 candles on the cake. I would say that your guess is as good as mine but yours is probably better.

And here is the birthday boy, ahem, man wondering about the suspicious lean of the cake.

The kids managed to blow out the candles before their father even puckered his lips. I imagine he was making a detailed list of our monthly payments as part of his birthday wish.

My father was also present for the celebration and was able to take some family shots. I wish he had used the zoom function.

Another angle.

And you really didn't think that I wouldn't include a series of photos of our youngest enjoying his cake.

Happy birthday, love. Many more.

The Inevitable Post

The first day of school is now two days behind us but the last two days have been filled with the remainder of the summer so Day 3 is Day 1 on my blog. Here are my two grade 1 students loaded down with school supplies and enough food to somehow still leave them ravenous and foul-mooded by the end of the day. They were both excited and a little scared about the first day of school in a new classroom with many new students. They are in a split gr.1/2 class of 18 students. There are only 6 other grade one students of whom Jacob is the only boy. This year is their first as full-time students. They tried to prepare me for the shock by assuring me that I would still see them in the summers and on holidays. Here they are looking happy. And here they are trying to look scared. Hannah simply looks stunned while Jacob looks like he he has just understood a complex mathematical problem.

And here they are attempting to appear nervous. I commend you if you can tell me the difference between Hannah looking scared and and Hannah looking nervous.

And they made a quick return to happiness for this last shot. However, they then stood up and almost fell back onto the bench due to the sheer weight of their backpacks filled with new school supplies.

I have no end of the day pictures as I prefer not to record anger, tears and tantrums. They came belting off the bus accompanied by a whole host of feelings, stresses and hunger. The end of the day always makes me question the wisdom of not homeschooling my children. Jacob, in particular, reacts negatively to the stress of school. Yesterday was considerably better as I was ready with lots of food, a listening ear, hugs and kisses and, my secret weapon, Holy Water. ( I will soon resemble a Cape Breton mother who stands at the door with an upside-down, pierced, plastic pop bottle filled with Holy Water which I shake at each new person who enters my home. I will store this bottle on top of the fridge.) Thank God I am here at the end of the day. Now, I am off to attend to my other two monkeys who are presently playing with a yellow school bus that is towing a load of hay. The younger monkey is also smelling a little malodorous - some things never change.

Good Byes