Saturday Afternoon

I tried to hide this activity from Joseph as painting is always made more laborious with a two-year old involved. However, he is never far so he was granted the use of one paint brush and one colour: green. (And, yes, that vase is always in the middle of the table. It is my attempt at beauty; alas, it is rarely filled.) The other three were allowed the use of four colours, all primary. Jacob asked me if we had any secondary-colour paint sets around.

Benjamin has developed his own painting style and all his scenes are depicted in arches of varying colour and size. The effect is actually quite nice.

Jacob and the proverbial house and sun.

Hannah is an almost seven-year old girl. Thus, she is painting large hearts in the sky.

Joseph has an affinity for swirls and dots.

He also knows how to pose. Rebecca, does this remind you of Rhett?

This is Dave. His school is undergoing its district review on Tuesday. He is attempting to look good for his superiors. He didn't want to paint.

Losing interest. Paintbrush has been abandoned. Hands and fingers are in full use.

First attempt to exit the table and wreak havoc with painty hands.

Benjamin trying to tell you how many months until the baby comes.

Ahh, success: six months. His feelings regarding becoming the middle child are depicted by the many arches. They depict flexibility.

Successful attempt at wreaking havoc. The dog is now ready well in advance for St. Patrick's Day.

Update. Here. Yr wlcom.

I am amazed at how time gets away on me. So many times I think that my last post was but a few days ago only to realise that I haven't written a thing in nearly two weeks. However, comments like that of my sister: Update, pls. thx. give me the kick in the pants that I sometimes need.
I would post a few cute pictures but you will have to wait as my camera's battery is dead and I need to search for the recharging cord.
But, what is new? Well, it's Lent. That says it all, doesn't it?
This year I have chosen to majorly restrict my internet use (which also accounts for my poor posting). I have found that my surfing of various blogs has crept further and further into the time I should be spending with my children and my husband. Thus, I have put an almost all out ban on my blog reading. Only at nights and only sparsely. While this is always hard to begin, unplugging myself is definitely refreshing. Plus, there seems to be a lot more time to do what really matters ... like look my children in the eye.
Other than the Lenten penance, I was also away this weekend. What? Me away? By myself?
Yes. It's hard to believe, but it's true. Thank you, Dave.
I went on a weekend retreat (two whole nights) in a town an hour away with 39 other women. I definitely went for some spiritual refreshment but, truthfully, I think I went for the food. You see, this retreat is hosted at a very large convent that has been given over to various retreats, meetings, medical services etc. Therefore, it has a really good cafeteria.

A really good cafeteria= I don't have to cook

Three times a day we would line up at the cafeteria door to load our trays with salads, drinks, rolls, main dishes and desserts. And, I'm pregnant so I can load the tray, right?
I think that, other than the fellowship, the wonderful talks and the availability of the sacraments, the food was the real draw for me. OK, OK, if it wasn't Lent and I wasn't trying to appear holier than thou, I would put food first on that list. A pregnant mama thinks with her tummy, no?
I came home somewhat refreshed. Actually, I came home exhausted. I literally (slight use of hyperbole) had to prop my eyes open with toothpicks just to drive home. I kept repeating prayers like, "Lord, it really wouldn't be good to crash the car so close to home. Do you think you could at least get me to the driveway?"
He did. I arrived home. The kids were, ahem, glued to a TV program and only Jacob ran to greet me. Dave was very happy to see me and quickly listed off all the cleaning he had done over the weekend. The house did look good. I tried to respond accordingly but within 10 minutes I found myself asleep in my own bed. Ahhh, home.
So, there you go. That's about all. I am excited to see the end of February and the beginning of March, the season of hope. I am trying to take it easy as my blood pressure has been slightly high at both of my last prenatal check-ups (usually it is very low); and I am at that stage of pregnancy where I haven't yet decided about bringing out the maternity clothes or just sticking with the Bella band.
Dave is well and took his class cross-country skiing today. The kids are all healthy although the twins claimed to be deathly ill yesterday morning until they made miraculous recoveries once the bus had safely come and gone. I think they needed a day home with Mommy to account for the weekend without. Joseph is terrified of skidoos and refuses to go to the basement where he believes both skidoos and monsters reside. Jacob is perplexed at the fickle nature of grade school girls. Hannah is not. Benjamin is particularly interested by soldiers and priests lately. He continually comments that priests need to pray so that good soldiers will protect them from army bases. I think I need to work on clarification with our third child. And that's about all. Pictures to come. Yes, I had better go: I smell burning and Benjamin just passed me a knife.

They sure do clean up well!

Well, the big day has come and gone but it was wonderful. The whole family made an (almost) complete recovery from the dreaded Scourge of '10 to enable us to attend the wedding of some dear friends of ours. We headed to the big city early Saturday morning and dropped Ben and Joe at Dave's parents for the day and a sleepover. I was a little sad to see them go, but I knew that the day would be half as exhausting without the two littles. Our first stop was to pick up Jacob's tux at Moore's. I have never seen Jacob so dressed up before and, well, it was a transformative experience. I couldn't help but laugh because he looked exactly like Dave on our wedding day, only shorter. Jacob considers wearing tuxes occasions of extreme gravity. (I love the hands in the pockets.)

The onlookers.

The shoes which came untied a million times that evening. At one point Jacob thanked me for being the best shoe tier in the world. In his words: "Where did you learn to tie shoes so well, Mom?" Hidden talents.

Don't worry, he wore black socks for the wedding.

No caption needed.

And here's the rose of our family. These photos were taken at the home of the bride's parents. We were able to be present as the bridal party dressed and took some initial pictures. We felt extremely privileged to be so close to the action. The mother-of-the-bride made Hannah's hairband as well as the basket of flowers. They are a very crafty family (crafty as in very good at crafts, not sly and underhanded).

She is a beauty, no?

And here is the ring bearer carrying his ring bear!

Together. Weren't they just in carseats a few days ago? Where does time go? They were still quite serious during these initial pictures. By the end of the wedding and the beginning of the professional photo session, they had loosened up significantly and become quite silly. I can't wait to see some of those pictures.

We were there as well.

Here are Jacob and Hannah with the bride's parents who are also Jacob's godparents. They are extremely close friends of ours - more like family. Don't they look handsome?

And then Jacob disappeared to the basement where a hairdresser was hiding. He came back with Olympic-flame hair and his mother's smile. (A glimpse of the maid-of-honour in the background.)

Hannah also sniffed out the hairdresser and emerged with a glorious head of soft curls.

Beautiful.

Dave lifted both children into the van and we followed the bride and her parents to the church. I balanced Hannah's flowers and all the boutonnieres on my lap as we snaked our way through the big city.

Jacob on the final lap to light the Olympic torch.

Anxiously waiting. The bride was closeted behind the door to the left.

Hannah and Jacob walked up the aisle in a state of nervous terror. I whispered to them that they could smile but I think that Hannah was actually shaking. Here comes the bride.

Jacob looking a bit too cool. He spent the rest of the wedding feeling his hair and playing with a bud from his boutonniere. Whenever he slumped in his seat and realised that he might be chastised he would glance backwards to where Dave and I were seated and scowl as he slunk lower in his seat.

I can't say enough about the beauty of the bride that day. Greg and Laura are a wonderful couple and every aspect of the wedding reflected their faith, tastefulness and beauty.

As the photo session began the photographer said, "OK, let's make this one serious." Jacob took his directions a little too seriously.

See, I told you they loosened up as the day carried on.

We thoroughly enjoyed our day. I made it through without a nap and we arrived home at 12:30am with two sleeping twins, a sleeping Mommy and an awake Daddy (thank God, he was driving). We are so thankful to have been invited to play such a role in a wedding of great faith and beauty. Blessings on the happy couple and all marriages. Happy Valentine's Day +1.

The Great Scourge

**Warning: The following post contains many references to puke.


I decided today that I have been riding the `Big Reveal` wave for a bit too long and that it is about time that I put something up to keep you interested. How about the stomach flu?
It turns out that the February Scourge of `09 has decided to become a yearly tradition.
But, before I begin Tales from the Bucket, I should tell you that Jacob and Hannah are debuting tomorrow as a ring bearer and flower girl in a wedding. Thus, for several healthy months, I have been praying the following prayer, "Dear Lord, please keep us all healthy. If we should get sick, please make it all be over by the 13th of February so that we can go to the wedding." Apparently, the Lord has a very timely sense of humour as the Scourge began on February 5th and is drawing to a close today on the 12th. RIP Great Scourge.
Jacob was the first man down last Thursday night. Jacob's bouts with the stomach flu inevitably occur while he sleeps and are fairly unobtrusive i.e. he sleeps through it all and we find him groaning and in need of a shower in the morning. However, his stomach is also able to move through these viruses pretty quickly and he was finished by Friday evening. Hannah held out until Saturday morning and kept up the heaving until Monday. (I told her that if her stomach is anything like her mother`s she should probably consider the sisterhood. She stared at me quizzically.)
Now, usually we handle these plagues with a modicum of grace if Mommy and Daddy remain untouched. Not so this time. I began the battle with the bucket on Saturday night. To add to this, I get very sick during my first trimester of pregnancy. By very sick I will refer you to the necessity of a standing prescription for Diclectin at the local pharmacy. I had always wondered what would happen if I got the stomach flu on top of first trimester sickness. Now I know.
At one point, on Saturday evening when Dave had still not succumbed, the living room stood silent witness to a sleeping (but restless) Hannah, a vomiting Mommy and a Ben and a Joe who simultaneously emerged from their rooms to puke in concert.
Nevertheless, Dave rose to the challenge and I truly praised God for the heroism of Dave's fatherly care. But, there comes a point when one daddy and his washing machine cannot keep up with the bedding or the buckets. Dave quickly discovered that the best place for pukey, waiting to be washed bedding is in the garage where it can freeze until the washing machine is available. Currently, the garage is housing a feather duvet and pillow in-queue for the laundry room. While Dave bathed Joseph at 11pm and tried to hold Ben over a bucket, I kept up a good writhe on the couch. Jacob slept unaware. Hannah moaned in her sleep. (I considered the religious life.)
Dave eventually stoked the woodstove for the night and left me on the couch with a sleeping Benjamin at my feet. By 1:37am I had reached the conclusion that my quarter-hourly retching was not something that I could stop on my own.
Now, this is nothing new to me during a first trimester. Each of my pregnancies has sent me to the Emergency Room at least once in need of an IV filled with Gravol and fluid. In fact, the twins sent me there eight times. But, as I crested into the 12th week of this pregnancy, I had thought that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn`t be visiting the ER for a meal. I thought wrong. I cleaned myself up as best as I could, deposited Benjamin at Dave`s feet in the bedroom and whispered to a less than coherent Dave that I was taking myself to the hospital. He mumbled, `Go, just go.` And then Benjamin threw up again. I left.
Now, even though I was in the midst of a mild form of torture I had to pause and laugh at how our life has changed over the past decade. During my pregnancy with the twins, Dave accompanied me to the ER for every visit: no matter what time of day. With Ben, Dave drove me to the hospital with the twins in toe. My mother brought me to the ER with Joe`s pregnancy as I happened to be visiting home when that ordeal overtook me. However, with four little ones at home emptying their stomachs at regular intervals, it is simply impossible for one`s husband to do the driving. So, I drove my sick self to the hospital through our abandoned downtown. (So abandoned that the police felt the need to follow me to the hospital. I was careful to make a full stop at our only intersection.) I arrived, retched in the parking lot and presented myself at the ER desk with my health card and relevant statistics: Hyper-emesis since 6pm; every 15 minutes. I was in a room immediately. Such stats work every time. Apparently a blood pressure of 155 over 94 also does the job.
I received excellent care; soaked in the Gravol and the fluids and checked out at 7 am so as to assess the home-front. I was only asked once if this would be my last baby. I will not tell you what my answer was.
By the time I arrived home I discovered that Dave had finally fallen victim to the Scourge and was parked in our bedroom. I, far from well, placed the children in front of the TV and crawled into Hannah`s bed. Please don`t ask me how much programming they watched... I will only tell you that I overheard them willingly decide to turn off the black box as they felt they had had enough! As the parental units lay in their separate beds, Dave called from the neighbouring bedroom, `Hey, didn`t we do this on Valentine`s day last year!` Good memory.
And so it goes. And so it is almost gone. I am almost back to my pre-pregnancy weight (another answer to prayer, Ha!) and the littlest ones are still expelling bodily fluids. But, thank you Lord, because you truly answer prayer: with only minutes to spare, the ordeal is ending before the 13th of February. Didn`t St. Theresa of Avila once say: If this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few. The end.

The Big Reveal

Something's been brewing here at our house. For the past few months this 'something' has been the cause of much of my silence. Any guesses? Need help: check out the newest widget!