Two weeks late

I know that these pictures are two weeks overdue but they were stored in some mysteriously inaccessible internal memory on our camera. Dave broke the code last night and was able to load the 2010 March for Life photos.
I traveled solo to this event ... well, I had four children but no husband. There were a few times on the over two hour drive that I questioned my decision to go; but I had plenty of confirmations along the way that I had decided correctly.
You see, our first stop was a little over an hour from home at the nearest Tim Horton's where I planned on picking up lunch so that we wouldn't have to scramble for an eatery in the big city. When I pulled into the TH parking lot a group of students plus one professor from Our Lady Seat of Wisdom Academy were taking a coffee break. They graciously agreed to watch the children while I ordered multiple bagels and chocolate milks. We then departed for the last hour of our trip.
When we reached the city we prayed for a parking spot and found a packed lot on our second try. Thankfully, the attendant guided me into a spot that looked two sizes too small for our van and we ate lunch in-vehicle. We then de-vanned and employed our second vehicle, the trusty double stroller. My plan was that the two youngest would sit quietly in the double jogger as we navigated our way through the busy streets. Benjamin would have none of it until the sheer overwhelmingness of the big city simply overwhelmed our genuine country boy. He pulled his John Deere cap a little lower and demanded that the stroller cover be used for the majority of the walk so that he could be truly hidden.
My next task was to find a bathroom because, after all, I am quite pregnant. The closest bathroom was down a long set of stairs that clearly could not be negotiated by our stroller. So, what did I do? I found the first available group of Knights of Columbus (caped and feathered) and asked them to guard our stroller. They were more than happy to. When we returned from the bathroom I found these older gentlemen taking turns sitting in the stroller while snapping pictures with their digital cameras. (They clearly hadn't taken the time to read the weight restrictions.) This story only firmed Dave's resolve to never wear the feathered hat.
We then made our way to Parliament Hill where we promptly ran into some staff workers from Madonna House who had taken the same bus to the March as Dave's father. Thus, they had a general idea of where I could find Grandpa Mike on the crowded Hill. Around 15 minutes later we found Grandpa and stuck close to him for the majority of the March. His help was invaluable as corralling 4 children amidst 13,000 people is a significant task.
As we neared the end of the March I lost Grandpa only to be immediately found by Joseph's godmother who stayed with us until our return to the Hill. She commandeered the stroller as Joseph, by this point, was demanding to be set free and held by Mommy. When I bid farewell to the lovely Marion in order to find our van, I literally bumped into Jacob's godfather to whose house we were planning on stopping before heading home. Amazing. From the moment we left home until our return we were provided with extraordinary help at each step.
The exertion of the trip was worth it and the kids are still chanting, "We are the pro-life. Mighty, mighty pro-life. If you can't hear us, we'll shout a little louder." And, one great sound bite emerged from the whole adventure a few days later.
Jacob had been handed a card with the picture of a 20-week old baby in the womb. Underneath the picture a caption read: "Just a blob of tissue?" The next day Jacob and Hannah felt the baby in my womb kick for the first time. Hannah, in great excitement said: "You should get those people who think that the baby is just a piece of Kleenex to feel that!"Waiting for the March to start.

Jacob with the flag that Joseph later rammed into the top of his mouth when he fell on the stick while running. Oops.

Benjamin in his hideout.

Grandpa trying to coax his grandson out from his entrenchment.

What else do boys do while waiting to take part in a protest March?

Hannah putting up with her brother's antics while defying her mother's orders not to wear her flip-flops. Fashion at all cost, even that of flip-flop loss during protest march.

Two views of a very small part of the very large crowd.

The view from within.

No, we don't have one

You know this is us. Ahem. Rebecca, this is for you. Wait, See James Run, I think I'm sending this out your way too. (Dave just bookmarks sites with used Siennas for our family. We're thinking of changing the hubcaps on our Grand Caravan...)

It`s about time

I know that there is a tendency among bloggers (pregnant ones, that is) to post regular belly shots. So far, I haven`t joined the trend for a number of reasons. One of my foremost reasons is that our bedroom mirror is so dirty that the photos I took were barely discernible for all the handprints, licks and smears that obscured my image. The other, and biggest reason, is that I like headshots of myself far more than anything below the neck. But, Dave has a new computer and it has a webcam and he took this photo yesterday and I thought, `Hey, that looks OK.` So, here is baby no. 5 at 26 or 27 weeks (I`ve lost count).
I did notice that I`ve hit the 99-days-left marker which is quite a milestone; so, perhaps this photo is in recognition of slipping into the double digits. And, by the way, baby boy has a name now. But you`ll have to wait until he appears out-of-utero to find out. We prayed and wrestled back and forth over a name. Last Saturday Dave told me that he had the name and, when I heard it, I knew immediately that he was right. Yesterday I received incredible confirmation that we had discerned the correct name. (God knew it all along, we just had to figure it out.) But, just like the name, the story will have to wait until I`ve made it through one more labour and delivery. I can`t wait ... sort of. And, no, it`s not Khalil.

Benjamin, Part 2

Yes, there is a Benjamin, Part 3. This little boy's birthday seems to go on and on and on. In fact, he received two cards in the mail on Monday and asked me, "Is it still my birthday?" These photos are from the night before his birthday: Benjamin's Eve. We celebrated his birthday in conjunction with Mother's Day at Dave's parents home. Practically speaking, this meant take-out Chinese followed by chocolate cake and birthday gifts. Didn't I tell you in an earlier post that he would be satisfied with a shovel? In this case, he also got a rake and a mini wheelbarrow. Dave's mother had also found John Deere hats for all the boys on a road trip to the States. So, the boys are all sporting new farm caps.

The requisite thank-you hug for Grandma Anne.

Chinese food. Chicken balls: need I say more?

A posed smile with the gifts.

Joseph also got a shovel to minimise the potential for conflict.

We worked very hard at keeping our thumbs down to indicate four years of age. The calculator has nothing to do with figuring out Ben's age. Unfortunately, poor Joseph is terribly confused and believes that he is simultaneously seven and four - too many birthdays, too close together.

Ahh, yes, he does take after his mother. Mom and Dad, can you see the inherited pose?

Blowing out the candles (after I had struck a match that, once lit, promptly snapped in two and landed burning-end down on the upholstered chair. Better luck no man hath had.)

Not posed and altogether genuine Benjamin Nicholas, age 4, apple of a few eyes.

We have also made room for this apple.

It was freezing last weekend unlike the weekend before when the temps hit the high 20s. Rather, flurries were blowing and the thermostat was just peaking above zero degrees last Saturday. Still, the boys braved the elements to try out the new implements in Grandma's garden.

Benjamin, Part 1

Benjamin's fourth birthday was on May 9th but he started his celebrations on the previous Sunday when we visited with my parents in the big city. Despite it still being early Spring, temperatures had suddenly soared to the high 20s and we enjoyed the early dose of Summer. We spent the day at a park near a lake, an indoor/outdoor restaurant, the parking lot of Toys'R'Us (ha!) and the busiest Dairy Queen in the world. It was at DQ that my parents gave Ben his birthday gifts. Nothing pleases Benjamin more than a tractor - any size will do.

Doesn't Daddy have a nice smile?

But then Joseph began his approach. Tractors also interest our youngest boy. My mom had bought Ben two tractors in the hope that Joseph would be allowed to play with one. Not so.

Dave wondering if I am going to get photographic evidence of the forthcoming fight. My father trying to intervene between his grandsons.

Benjamin putting his foot down on the 'tractor-sharing plans' of his grandmother.

Joseph reacting to the putting down of his brother's foot.

Ben making sure that we understand that it is his birthday and his alone.

And for some sugar and spice: Hannah immediately before her ice cream landed on the floor.

Boys at the Bar

The next few days will be filled with pictures as the last few weekends have been full of activity. These three photos were snapped at an indoor/outdoor restaurant in the big city. We went down last Sunday to visit my parents who were in town for a wedding. It was quite hot and the A/C was not on yet so we were all feeling a little pooched. The boys decided to cool down at the bar.

Things Overheard

1. Last night during our bedtime routine we read the story of Moses and the Ten Commandments. I placed particular emphasis on the fourth commandment which mandates obedience and respect towards one's parents. Ahem. Such supernatural aids in parenting are becoming more and more essential around these parts. Hannah was especially interested by the fourth commandment, particularly the second half: Honor your father and your mother and you shall live long in the land. How do I know that the fourth member of the decalogue held her interest? This morning in the middle of a pre-bus tussle, I overheard her threaten Jacob with the following: "Jacob, if you want to live a long life, you'd better let go of me!!"

2. I took the twins out solo this morning; which means that Joe and Ben stayed at home with Daddy. I do miss my first borns a lot since they have been in school full-time. I feel a little like I am losing them but that is subject for another post. I love these twinlet trips because I usually get to drive and listen to their conversations. Today their discussion went something like this:

Hannah: (Background info: Jacob adores carrots; he regularly sneaks to his room with bags of them only to return with an empty 2lb plastic bag. Adores them, really.) You know if you eat too many carrots you will turn orange. Mom told me that.
Jacob: Is that why mom's skin is a little darker than the rest of us?
Hannah: (With great authority) Yeah. And that's why flamingos are pink. Because they eat lots of pinkish sea food like clams.
Jacob: Oh.

3. Hopefully you all recall the deer-head story from the depths of hunting season?

Benjamin: (Wielding his play-dough swiss army knife) Hannah, stop moving. You're a deer and I want to cut off your head.

The Secret Life of Birds

Around once every two weeks or so I get a call from Jacob and Hannah's school around lunch or mid-afternoon. When I was still teaching, the call was usually for supply work; however, I haven't been in the classroom since early October so those calls have all but disappeared. Now when the phone rings, and I see the school's number on display, I know that someone is sick, hurt or a cause of some concern. Truthfully, every time I see the school number I feel a little dismayed at what news is about to be delivered. The phone calls asking me to fetch a sick child, more times than not, come when a younger sibling is asleep, I am still in my pajamas or there are muffins in the oven. The rest of the time the phone calls tend to come just as I have hit the doze stage of an afternoon nap. (I keep the phone next to me so that I can check if it is indeed the school phoning and, therefore, I need to answer.) Well, last week at exactly 2:21pm just as I had started to drift into a catatonic state, I was jolted from my Lazy Boy by a call from the twins' teacher. Bless her soul, the first thing she said was, "Don't worry, no one's hurt." I am truly thankful for such an opening line because when the phone rings in concert with the wail of ambulance sirens on the main road, I do feel a little nervous.
She then went on, "I'm calling about Jacob's Home Journal."
The Home Journal is a source of much frustration in our house. It is due every Monday and the twins are required to write about their weekend, events in their lives and so on. I suppose it is a practice in writing freely so as to gain comfort with the written word. They are also permitted to include procedural writing which has led to such enlightening entries by Jacob such as "How to pack a backpack":
1. You get your backpack
2. You put your lunch in
3. You zip your backpack.
You get the picture.
Anyway, Mrs. B said, "At first I was going to let this go but..."
"Yes." Feelings of impending doom.
"Jacob has been quite clearly copying from texts and using them as his entries."
Secretly feeling that the news is not that bad, "Oh, we'll talk to him."
"As I was saying, I was going to let this go but when he decided to give me a full sex education course in the reproductive life of birds, I decided I had to phone you."
I have to tell you that the teacher was definitely laughing at this point. "He used quite the words and I really didn't know that birds did that sort of thing."
My mind, at this point, began searching through its archives trying to figure out from which text this information came. As I rifled through my mental rolodex I stopped at a thin text given to Jacob in February called "So Many Ways to Reproduce." Ah, yes that must be the one. Why had I let him have this? Why hadn't I vetted it properly? I got off the phone and found the text in a jumble of books and skimmed its contents looking for ducks. And then I found it. And I began to laugh and tears began to stream down my face as I read what Jacob had so carefully copied into his Home Journal and innocently passed into his teacher. I called my parents to read them the offending lines but I could hardly speak for laughter. The most I will tell you is that the entry was titled: "These One Have Intimate Encounters".
Enough said.
As Mrs. B said, "Let's get back to gr. one entries." And, as Dave said in reference to our province's premier who recently introduced a since nixed sex-ed program whose intent was the sexualization of our young children, "Dalton McGuinty's got nothing on you, Elena."

Late Saturday Afternoon

Sorry I've been gone so long; but it seems that since April hit we have been running hard and fast. Every weekend has been filled with at least one significant event and the weeks have been similarly packed. I have exactly 22 minutes until we head to the vigil mass so that we can leave early tomorrow for the big city to visit with my parents who are in town for the wedding of their godson. So, I will leave with you three tidbits.
1. The awesome truth of a new baby coming in August has recently dawned upon Joseph. For a 2.5 year old he had a very sophisticated reaction:
"No, Mom, I'm the baby."
"No, you're big brother."
Looking suspiciously from family member to family member, "I...big...brother?"
"Yes. You are the big brother." Waiting for his reaction.
"I big brother. Baby will cry. I will wear diapers."
Looks like toilet training might be troublesome.
2. Jacob suggested the other day that we name the new baby Jonah. The only thing I could think was: Jonah was in the belly of a whale. Jonah, he is not.
3. Ben has, so far, when asked what he thinks we should name the baby, replied with a 'what's-wrong-with-these-people' look accompanied by: "His name is boy." If he could say sheesh he would.
It was only recently that he branched out to something quite unusual.
A few weeks ago, he told me quite definitively that the baby's name was ... wait for it...

Khalil

Don't ask me.