Small Town Life

Benjamin came home on Thursday from school telling me that there was a float in the Christmas parade  and he just knew that I wouldn't let him go on it.  Confused?  So was I.  I slowed him down a little and tried to solicit some more concrete facts.  I then asked Jacob and Hannah if their school was putting a float in the Santa Clause parade.  They said no and that Ben was probably confused with the daycare float.  But, good old Ben, he kept insisting that there was a float and that the kindergarteners could go on it and that Mr. P said that he could come dressed as either an animal or God.  I don't have any God costumes so I hoped that he would choose an animal if in fact the float materialised.  So, I phoned the school and talked with Ben's teacher who indeed confirmed that Ben was correct.  In her words, God bless his little soul, he was completely right.  She said that only eight students had responded to the float request so it would be helpful if our older children also wanted to take part.   

From the above picture you can see that Jacob enthusiastically volunteered to play one of the three wise men.  (Yes, Anne-Marie G., that is your tree skirt.  I asked Mom if I could have it since we had no tree skirt and it has since doubled as a regal costume more than once.  Thank you.)

Ben chose to be a lamb.  That was probably a good choice as the nativity scene does not include penguins, dragons, zebra or giraffe, our other costume selections.  I asked him for a kiss just before I took this picture and he shook his head in embarrassment.

Ben's teacher is the fourth from the left, Mrs. E.  The educational assistant in his class, who provides music and a lot more each day, is Mr. P., second from the left.  Mrs. E's husband hammered together the stable.  Apparently its next life will be as a chicken coop.

I had to take a picture of this float as Mary and Joseph are a senior same-sex couple.  Wouldn't Lady Gaga be proud of us.  I don't think that anything so agenda-driven was behind these two ladies, just a lack of men in whatever club they were representing.  Nevertheless, I couldn't resist a picture.  I will provide no further commentary.

Jacob waving frantically when he spots us in the crowd.

Hannah had initially refused to participate in the float but she couldn't resist when her principal, Mrs. F., asked her to walk beside her and hold the school banner.  I think you can tell who Mrs. F. is.  These sorts of things make me very happy that the Catholic school system is still alive and pretty well.  It might have its faults but what would we have without it?  With it we still have a place where our children freely celebrate their faith and even march publicly to proclaim it.  That makes me very grateful and willing to keep fighting for its existence.  I try never to forget that the Catholic school system is the only place that many kids ever encounter anything to do with God and His love for each of us.

By the time I saw Ben he had abandoned his sheep hood to get a better look at the parade.  He was positively wired with excitement.  Jacob told me later that he found the float quite boring and got rather tired of yelling Merry Christmas.  He told me, "I would have much rather scrambled for candy on the sidewalk."  I then asked Ben what his favourite part was.  I thought that he might say that he really enjoyed the three horses that marched a few floats ahead of him.  I should have realised that his answer would be related to the horses, just not in the way I expected.  

Me:  What was your favourite part about the parade, Ben?

Ben:  The poo!!!  There were three piles and Mrs. E. almost stepped in it!

He keeps me grounded.

Finally, Pictures

I finally found a way to import our photos to our computer without the aid of the lost cord.  So, here are some pictures of daily life, Hallowe'en and Hannah at the cross-country race.  On another note, we had our first ultrasound yesterday.  Dave was able to come which made me very happy as I find ultrasounds a little nerve-wracking.  The tech at our hospital tends toward silence and the only information that she conveys is via her facial expressions.  Consequently, I stare at a light in the ceiling and avoid looking at her entirely.  I thought that Dave's presence might lighten the tone of the ultrasound; nevertheless, he wasn't invited in until the very end so I had to bear the tech's silence alone, and with a lot of Hail Mary's.  The only concrete information that we have concerning this new babe is that he or she is a singleton.  In my mother's words, "Big phew!".  Or as my older sister said, "I think that one set of twins is enough."  Or, in Dave's words, "I get my Toyota Sienna."  We all approach such news differently.

 Isaac amid destruction.

 Joseph likes to kiss and squeeze Isaac's hand whenever he passes by.  Jacob did the exact same thing with both Benjamin and Joseph.

 What's bedtime without a gun?

 A particularly fetching photo of a boy who is growing up very fast.

 Ben as Spiderman.

 Jacob as a mummy.  His costume became more and more unravelled as the evening progressed but the unravelling added to the overall effect.

 Joseph as an evil penguin.  He insisted on the evil part.

 Isaac in the requisite lamb costume.

 Isaac discovering Hallowe'en candy.

 Just a normal scene.  Interpret as you will.

And because we couldn't forget her:  Hannah after her cross-country race.  She didn't want to go out for Hallowe'en and opted to stay home and hand out candy.  Her assistance was gratefully accepted by me as we had 167 kids at our door that night.

Play by Play

Yesterday we spent the day in Renfrew visiting the dentist and doctor.  We all had dentist appointments in the morning but I cancelled mine as the thought of someone working in my mouth at this point in my first trimester just didn't go over well.  So, I snoozed in the van until Isaac woke up from his morning nap and then went in search of Tylenol at the local drugstore.  Why Tylenol, you ask?  I was hit last week with a whopper of a cold that seems to have lodged itself in my sphenoid sinus (I googled this to see if there was a sinus behind my eye) causing a right nostril that alternates between complete blockage and free-running tap.  A significant amount of pain has also resulted; thus, the Tylenol.

I would love to report that everyone passed their dental exams with flying colours, but this is never the case, is it?  Jacob finally managed a clean exam but Hannah had her first inkling of a cavity.  And, Dave, poor Dave, he always has to go back for a follow-up.  Ben was also clear and Joe, I am told, is doing a fabulous job of brushing his teeth as he has no plaque whatsoever.  He also hardly ever brushes his teeth.  Embarassingly, I get to him when I can - which isn't twice a day.  We were also admonished on the need to floss our kids' teeth.  This happens at every dental appointment.  One dental hygienist once sat me down, placed a well-meaning hand on my thigh and said, We need to talk about flossing.  I am always reduced to repentant floss-sinner and make promises to floss children's teeth for Advent and Lent as penance.  Then I leave; and the kids use their new floss for elaborate games involving tying up objects.  And I have to go to confession.  Mea culpa.

My doctor's appointment was uneventful except to confirm how much I love my doctor.  She was genuinely thrilled that I am having another baby.  She spent the last 5 minutes of the appointment telling me about births that had turned into emergencies that made her wonder why she continues to practise obstetrics.  These stories don't scare me, they fascinate me and make me very happy that she is at my side when delivering.  One of her stories included hand pumping a transfusion bag into a just-delivered mom as they raced along the highway in an ambulance.  Up until this point, I had never pictured her outside of the office before.  I thought, Gee, I guess if I want anyone by my side in that sort of situation, it's this doctor.  These stories also make me very thankful for medical interventions that save lives.

And then we dropped off our van to be undercoated and winter-tired.  We drove the 20 minutes home in Dave's parents' van only to realise that I had also dropped off the house keys at the mechanic's.  Dave discovered that our house is quite difficult to break into and we drove back to the garage.  Poor Dave, he is full of grace these days; especially since we arrived home at 5pm and he had a 4 hour tutoring session ahead of him starting at 5:30.  He is a very good man.

So, we sat down to eat supper, which was a mix of cold cereal and bagels, and I looked at the kitchen and the laundry and the kids who had only parts of pyjamas, and I almost cried.  But then the doorbell rang and a mother of nine was standing there with a huge pot of homemade soup and a baguette in her hands.  And a smile and a prayer.  And I almost cried.  (I should have taken a picture for her eventual holy card.)  It is always those most busy who find the time to provide the most tangible of help.

And today the three youngest are at home with me (Ben has a habit of developing stomach aches that last from breakfast til Jacob's and Hannah's departure for school) and I am in laundry-recovery mode.  At least I don't have to make supper tonight.

Update:  A big bag of Jolly Ranchers arrived in the mail today.  Thank you, Tanya.  This means more than you know.

Why the silence?

Well, I'm guessing that at least some of you have figured out why I have been so silent recently.  My last period of blog-quiet was two years ago when I was just expecting Isaac.  (Have you guessed yet?)  So, yes we are expecting a sixth bundle of joy at the beginning of June which makes me 10 weeks pregnant.  And very sick.  Which makes me wonder if we might indeed be expecting two bundles of joy.  (Jacob is rooting for triplet girls to even things out; he says he will help with the nights.)  I have wrestled with telling people about this pregnancy as five was a little crazy, but, six, well, six is, you know, a little over the edge, isn't it?

Maybe I thought so once, but not anymore.  Once you have the privilege of having all these little people around you, something wonderful happens:  you begin to realise that they are far more than number 1, 2 3 or 4 - they are completely unique human beings with whom you have the pleasure of living.  And when someone asks, "Are there 4 or 5?" as if an extra child is akin to a potato in the pot, a mother feels deeply offended.  This baby owes his or her conception to Dave and I feeling that Isaac needed a buddy.   And then we thought that June would be nice as Dave will be off for July and August, and then God said, "Did somebody say baby?" (this part is really necessary) and the rest is history.

Now, if you do some quick calculations back to my trip to Halifax, you will realise that the plane debacle's icky factor just went through the roof as I was 5 weeks pregnant at the time (and covered in vomit).  Are you now amazed that I did not break down in tears somewhere over eastern Ontario?

The last five weeks have been quite tough.  I am almost as sick as I was with the twins only without the ER trips and IV lines.  Yet. I think that the lack of medical intervention has to do with the three intervening pregnancies that have taught me many anti-vomit coping strategies.  If you are interested, we can talk in person.  Needless to say, the laundry is a little backed up, the floor is a little sticky but the bathrooms are clean.  There is also way too much Kraft Dinner around.  This last detail makes the kids extremely happy as does the gingerale that Joe keeps sneaking.

I also find myself in constant need of chewing on fruit gum (which Joe also sneaks).  Either gum or mints.  All of these candies are known as Mom's sick pills.  Joe told me at lunch today that he is a doctor and ordered me to open the mints so that he could try them as part of some sort of medical trial.  He is too short to be convincing.

Grocery store trips have become laughable as this anti-sugar mama now consistently leaves the grocery store with sherbert, mints, Oreos and anything fruity that can be sucked.  The latter tends not to include real fruit.  In fact, in a desperate bid for Jolly Ranchers I sent Dave to Walmart where he phoned me to say that neither he nor any of the staff knew what Jolly Ranchers were.  I don't understand.  And I still don't have Jolly Ranchers.  But I have rainbow sherbert; although I really wish that it was orange sherbert from Laura Secord.  The cravings are particularly strong this time around and I find that if I even hear mention of a specific type of food I feel that I need it.  I mistakenly read a blog entry about a woman in her first trimester whose husband was cooking her risotto.  I then berated Dave for not cooking me risotto.  He asked me what that is and if I wanted it.  I told him to forget it, I don't even like the stuff, and he made me fruit salad.  Poor guy, pray for him.

The kids are over the moon with excitement and are enjoying keeping the big news to themselves.  "I pray for you at school, Mom.  I just don't say why."  If any of the kids' schoolmates are reading this, they now know why.  I have yet to go to the doctor although I have managed to swing two Diclectin prescriptions.  I see the doctor on Monday and I imagine that an ultrasound will soon follow.  There is probably only one little person in there; but, another friend of mine is having twins (her 6th and 7th) and, the last time a friend of mine did that, I did too.  So, we'll see.

If you would be so kind, I would appreciate any prayers as it's high time that I felt slightly better.  Our family would also be a little bit healthier if I could manage to do more than stir a pot of noodles, throw frozen stuff in the oven and collapse on the couch with a bowl.  So, there you go, now you know.  We are very happy and will be even happier once I don't feel like dying anymore.  (An unfortunate side effect of bearing new life.)