The Job Fair

The boys called me out to the front room on Boxing Day to show me their garbage truck. This load was only one quarter of what went out on recycling day. Relax, this is not indicative of our Christmas stash. Rather, it was the accumulation of diaper boxes, grocery-store boxes and so on; in other words, a very busy Fall with little time for anything out of the routine set of chores. In terms of Christmas, we asked the relatives to take it easy in the gift- buying area. Like all children, our kids are overwhelmed by too many gifts. The result is lost and broken toys and, far worse, ungratefulness and budding consumerism. Ugly, ugly tendencies that I need to deal with in myself as well. So, in terms of getting a little less this year, we did - and feel a little less bloated than we did last year.

Another Year

I thought I should acknowledge another birthday around these parts. I turned 33 on the 22nd of this month. Yesterday I went sledding with the kids and felt every one of those 33 years. (Forgive the repeated pictures: blogger is being belligerent and not letting me erase photos.)Dave made the cake from scratch. It was better than any cake that I have ever made. Plus, the "33" on the cake is ingenius.
Picking noses is allowed on your mom's birthday.
Isaac is wearing Ben's least favourite sleeper. In Ben's words, with a look of extreme distaste: "I like all of Isaac's clothes except for that crazy one with all the snowmen."

Christmas

I have never been successful at sending out a card;
With a baby sucking on my sleeve, it really is quite hard.
Thus, this bloggy version will have to serve us well.
(After all, isn't the internet sounding the Christmas-card death knell?)
Until a time arrives when the babies are all grown;
Blogger will stand in for cards;
Well, blogger and the phone.
Merry Christmas!

(Sorry if it didn't scan, Dad. The kids want to open their presents and won't wait another minute.)
Merry Christmas.

Five More Days

Five more days ... and I think we'd better review the nativity story with Benjamin.

Seen it yet?

Now, Dave and I are notoriously unskilled on the dance floor. Actually, a slight correction: our lack of skill is not notorious as it is really quite unknown. We do our best to remain seated when the dancing begins and have been known to pose for a picture of our first (and last) dance. As an aside, we do have friends who can swing dance wearing a wedding gown and tux (the lady in the former and the gent in the latter); but we made sure they moved to Saskatchewan so as to eliminate the competition. However, this (as in the video) could be possible ... once we get some time. However, I don't think Dave will ever agree to marine-inspired stripes and my hair is still far away from ponytail days. Nevertheless, I can dream or perhaps project those dreams on to the twins. After all, Christmas break is coming up and they really do need something to do over the next two weeks. When you do watch the video, note the presence of the Sacred Heart - yes, I know, it's meant as kitsch - but Jesus has a way of making it in there, doesn't he? Also, is it just the Catholic glasses that I wear, or is that the Sign of the Cross at the end?

Sir Benjamin of the Recyling Bin

Benjamin was made a knight while I was gone thanks to an ingenius babysitter.
I am considering silver spray paint.
A menacing sight.

Advent

This is the extent of Advent at our house this year. These are also my new Advent candles purchased in Halifax well after the first candle should have been lit. These candles also look unfortunately similar to a detonator pack when viewed by an x-ray scanner inside one's carry-on baggage. Hence, my hold-up at security. I am the first terrorist on Canadian soil to be caught while wearing a baby in a sling.

Some more images from Halifax

Pardon the repeated photo but each image is priceless. In the first, I am attempting to apprehend Sr. Ilaria (my youngest sister) while the C. family begins their escape and Nicole M. looks strangely similar to Dave's sister, Julie.
There are actually eight people in this picture.
No, not in my tummy! But, yes, the eighth person is hiding underneath the grey toggle coat: Baby Appleseed.

Images from Halifax

As the only child to come home with me for a visit, Isaac was certainly the centre of attention. In fact, at Sunday supper he literally was the centre of attention. We have discovered, as many of you with young babes well know, that the littlest of the littles are often most entertained by a ceiling fan or overhead light. It is as if they have found an old friend. Apparently, the dining-room fixture and Isaac were due up for a reunion.
And it was filled with joy.
Judging by the amount of tea cups and wine glasses around we were obviously well hydrated. And the bathroom was well used.
Fr. Joseph Hattie, O.M.I. If you are blessed to have ever met or known this man then you have met one of the superstars of the Natural Family Planning world. Likewise, you will clearly not be following a one-child policy.
A great woman, Elizabeth. She is the seventh of ten children and her life always reminds me that children in big families are not just the latest addition, some sort of commodity or the answer to, "You had another one?" No, as Elizabeth's life bears witness, each child is an irrepeatable gift whose life is entirely other from his parents and who have a sphere of influence in which they live and move and have their being. She also has fabulous stories about her mother who, at one point, had 4 children under the age of one. Her mother also managed to write a pamphlet called, "Teenagers need a mother", which was displayed at the back of the church by the mother and promptly hidden by the teenaged daughter, Elizabeth.

For my four eldest

Mommy is away in a city by the sea pretending only to have one child. There is no snow here, one can wear shirt sleeves outside and there are really big houses with lots of lights. Here are the promised photos - not that great - but a promise is a promise. When Mommy told Jacob that, due to the warmth, one need only wear a shirt outdoors, Jacob was flabbergasted: "You mean no one is wearing pants!"

Joseph's third birthday according to Mommy

Yay! It's my birthday. Or so they tell me. It's my birthday, not Benjamin's. It matters a lot that it is not Benjamin's birthday. Benjamin is seated behind me.

Ice cream for breakfast. Very interesting. Hannah is sitting on the counter. I will try that next.

But I will also have some peanut butter and toast. Wait! A present? For me? No more peanut butter and toast.

A box!

A string inside the box!

There is something more and it is difficult to get out but it is mine and not Benjamin's.

Binoculars. Daddy can try them. There must be more.

Benjamin can try them.

Yay! I just remembered that it's my birthday.

Another box.

Back to the binoculars.

Chocolate cake from Grandma. They tell me that I am three. Then why am I in a high chair?

I asked for a banana cake with eyes and fingers. Grandma did her best: licorice and Smarties.

Three. Licorice. Try not to choke.

Chocolate. Good to be three. Thank you for coming to my party.

Sibling Rivalry

My sister often asks me if Jacob and Hannah, the twins, fight. The answer is no. The level of peace and cooperation between the two womb-mates is unbelievable and, I think, fascinating. However, the next two in line, singleton 1 and singleton 2, regularly clash in a battle of wills. This morning, I woke a little late, and was greeted by this scene. I asked why the cereal boxes were providing fortification and Hannah replied, "Oh, that? They didn't want to see each other anymore so I made them screens." Here's to good cheer(ios)!

We wear the same genes

Above: My sister's firstborn, Rhett, at 4 months (Note the hairlines).
Above: My fifth-born, Isaac, at almost three months
Me and Isaac
Rebecca and Rhett