Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Laughed til I cried
I hope that you find this as funny I did. So many of these moments have already happened to us: the amount of times I have told the kids to just go out in the backyard and have them troop outside and stare at me through the window wondering what they're supposed to do is already innumerable: What'd'ya do yesterday? I dunno, we stayed out in the yard. Also, the part about the kid who gets chosen as the point-man to come in and tell mom that someone is injured is priceless, "Hi, Mom. I just came in here at full speed 'cause I wanted to say hi and..." Ben and Hannah tend to play this role while Jacob lies injured and Joseph sprinkles him liberally with leaves. Enjoy!
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Some Pictures
Monday, January 23, 2012
Spelling Season
It's spelling bee season again at the kids' school. Jacob was apparently the first to sign up and arrived home with his spelling duotang some time last week. He gave the duotang to his twin who dutifully quizzed him, taking great pleasure in any mistakes. Unbeknownst to his female twin, the quizzing of her brother has been of great benefit to her own spelling. This benefit is of such effect that her own spelling prowess has begun to emerge - much to her chagrin. Her mother and father happened to notice that her i's are now coming before e's as are her q's regularly accompanied by u's. Thus, she has been challenged to enter the spelling bee herself and give her womb-mate a run for his money. Much to our delight, she rose to the challenge and signed up today for an occasion that she would much rather avoid - sort of. She might rather sit on the sideline but she also has a fire in her eye that would see her spelling "distinguish" alongside her twin.
Thus, today, as we drove the hour's drive to Renfrew for a doctor's appointment, I was passed the spelling duotang and instructed to quiz Jacob and Hannah on all words from A-R. They did quite well - as did their younger brothers who quietly listened in a state of semi- and almost complete illiteracy. It was around S that Benjamin and Joseph began to grow restless and demand their own spelling bee. Dave tossed back a few words for Ben: and, to, Ben, I and a. He proudly spelled them only stopping when he was given "Sam" which he had decided was beyond him.
Then it was Joe's turn. Joe is still functionally illiterate. However, after today's spelling bee, I have high hopes for him. We gave him words like "Joseph" and "dog" which he spelled by naming off any letters that came to mind. We would all yell, "Correct!" and move on to the next word. And then I made my mistake. I yelled out, "Mommy!" He, I kid you not, responded: "Mommy. H-I-P-S. Mommy." Watch out for this boy, I have no idea what will become of him.
Thus, today, as we drove the hour's drive to Renfrew for a doctor's appointment, I was passed the spelling duotang and instructed to quiz Jacob and Hannah on all words from A-R. They did quite well - as did their younger brothers who quietly listened in a state of semi- and almost complete illiteracy. It was around S that Benjamin and Joseph began to grow restless and demand their own spelling bee. Dave tossed back a few words for Ben: and, to, Ben, I and a. He proudly spelled them only stopping when he was given "Sam" which he had decided was beyond him.
Then it was Joe's turn. Joe is still functionally illiterate. However, after today's spelling bee, I have high hopes for him. We gave him words like "Joseph" and "dog" which he spelled by naming off any letters that came to mind. We would all yell, "Correct!" and move on to the next word. And then I made my mistake. I yelled out, "Mommy!" He, I kid you not, responded: "Mommy. H-I-P-S. Mommy." Watch out for this boy, I have no idea what will become of him.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
In the bleak midwinter
It is at about this point in January that winter begins to wear on one's soul. Especially around this part of Ontario where winter is deep, cold, often dark and snowy. The days on which the sun shines brilliantly are inevitably the coldest and the dreariness of the darker days feels like the gods are laughing down upon this remote area of Siberia. I realise that if I had grown up enjoying winter - doing things like skiing, skating on frozen lakes and perhaps ice-fishing (I really don't know if the last activity would add to my winter-joy meter) - I might enjoy this season a bit more. After all, Dave doesn't find it so bad. I think he enjoys winter's opposition to summer, sort of like sorrow increasing joy. But then again, those who have been Afelskies for many years tend to have been given an inordinate amount of optimism. (Case in point: my mother-in-law just popped in and said, "Isn't it nice out?") My children might be the Afelskies who turn the tide.
As I type this post, the three oldest boys are dressed in their bathing suits and backpacks playing some sort of exploring/spy game. They are benefiting from central heating. And, I kid you not, I just heard Benjamin yell at Jacob, "That's because I hate winter!!" Hannah is a bit more like her dad and has suited up in her jacket, pants, boots and mitts (Joe has actually composed a song including those items of clothing which he sings while he dresses ... and which rings in my head). She is outside adding to her snow fort which has several rooms each equipped with its own TV. Begrudgingly, she added rooms for her brothers last night. Despite her apparent magnanimity, the add-ons are barely discernible from the nearby snowbank.
It appears that Hannah has made a truce with the season; nevertheless, she still has a deep soul-longing for the warmer months. It was her words that sparked this post in the first place. About an hour ago, she said to me: "Mom, do you remember summer?" Now, she didn't say, "Mom, do you remember last summer or the summer when we..." No, she said, "Do you remember summer?" in a Narnia sort of way, like "Do you remember that there once was a time when we opened outside doors and kept them open, wore short pants that stopped above the knees, and green material grew on the trees?" It was that sort of question. I think she might have been unsure as to whether or not that distant memory was real or not. Luckily I have 25 more years of summer under my belt and I was able to reassure her that June would come again. At least I tell myself this.
Maybe she'll build me a room in her snowfort in gratitude. I hope my snow TV has cable.
As I type this post, the three oldest boys are dressed in their bathing suits and backpacks playing some sort of exploring/spy game. They are benefiting from central heating. And, I kid you not, I just heard Benjamin yell at Jacob, "That's because I hate winter!!" Hannah is a bit more like her dad and has suited up in her jacket, pants, boots and mitts (Joe has actually composed a song including those items of clothing which he sings while he dresses ... and which rings in my head). She is outside adding to her snow fort which has several rooms each equipped with its own TV. Begrudgingly, she added rooms for her brothers last night. Despite her apparent magnanimity, the add-ons are barely discernible from the nearby snowbank.
It appears that Hannah has made a truce with the season; nevertheless, she still has a deep soul-longing for the warmer months. It was her words that sparked this post in the first place. About an hour ago, she said to me: "Mom, do you remember summer?" Now, she didn't say, "Mom, do you remember last summer or the summer when we..." No, she said, "Do you remember summer?" in a Narnia sort of way, like "Do you remember that there once was a time when we opened outside doors and kept them open, wore short pants that stopped above the knees, and green material grew on the trees?" It was that sort of question. I think she might have been unsure as to whether or not that distant memory was real or not. Luckily I have 25 more years of summer under my belt and I was able to reassure her that June would come again. At least I tell myself this.
Maybe she'll build me a room in her snowfort in gratitude. I hope my snow TV has cable.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Random
Are you ever confounded by your own laziness?
We have an industrial garbage can that sits inside the garage and outside of the mudroom door into which poopy diapers are placed. Around three weeks ago we threw out our old slow cooker because it had become a lethargically-slow slow cooker. i.e. that venison stew is still not cooked after 10 hours on High?? My mother-in-law remedied the situation by buying me a new slow cooker for Christmas. On my first try I put the roast into it a little too late; thus, I finished it off in the oven when I realised that the slow cooker was not going to do the job. Unfortunately, I failed to note that the handle on the lid of the new slow cooker was plastic. When I went to check on the roast's progress in the oven my first thought was, "Oh, would you look at that? The new slow cooker has a collapsable pot handle. Kinda cool." This really was my first thought. Dave provided the second thought, "You already ruined the slow cooker!!" What kind of a company makes ovenwear with melting handles. Sheesh. Please don't tell any of this to my MIL: there are reasons this blog is private.
But, back to the old slow cooker. I kept the inside dish as it can be used as a viable casserole dish but the outer electronic cooker was thrown into the garage to be dealt with in the spring. Unfortunately it only made it as far as the top of the poopy-diaper garbage can. And there it remains. Thus, the defunct slow cooker has become the first diaper repository on the road to the final destination of the actual garbage can. I often wonder what people think if they come in through the garage door. "Why do these people put poopy diapers in slow cookers?" I also wonder which of us, Dave or I, will tackle this problem first. I like to think that stupid situations like this exist in our life because Dave and I tend to be pretty efficient in most other areas of our marital and family life. (Like quickly ruining new appliances.) Thus, we need some areas in which we fail spectacularly (or in just really strange ways) in order to make up for our clean kitchen and folded laundry.
One can't have it all, you know.
p.s. I have got to put up one of those baby counters as I am already approaching 21 weeks. The problem is that I can't remember how in the world I got one up the last time. I have tried a few times but something is not working this time. When I get the time, I'll try again as well as post an expanding Elena picture.
We have an industrial garbage can that sits inside the garage and outside of the mudroom door into which poopy diapers are placed. Around three weeks ago we threw out our old slow cooker because it had become a lethargically-slow slow cooker. i.e. that venison stew is still not cooked after 10 hours on High?? My mother-in-law remedied the situation by buying me a new slow cooker for Christmas. On my first try I put the roast into it a little too late; thus, I finished it off in the oven when I realised that the slow cooker was not going to do the job. Unfortunately, I failed to note that the handle on the lid of the new slow cooker was plastic. When I went to check on the roast's progress in the oven my first thought was, "Oh, would you look at that? The new slow cooker has a collapsable pot handle. Kinda cool." This really was my first thought. Dave provided the second thought, "You already ruined the slow cooker!!" What kind of a company makes ovenwear with melting handles. Sheesh. Please don't tell any of this to my MIL: there are reasons this blog is private.
But, back to the old slow cooker. I kept the inside dish as it can be used as a viable casserole dish but the outer electronic cooker was thrown into the garage to be dealt with in the spring. Unfortunately it only made it as far as the top of the poopy-diaper garbage can. And there it remains. Thus, the defunct slow cooker has become the first diaper repository on the road to the final destination of the actual garbage can. I often wonder what people think if they come in through the garage door. "Why do these people put poopy diapers in slow cookers?" I also wonder which of us, Dave or I, will tackle this problem first. I like to think that stupid situations like this exist in our life because Dave and I tend to be pretty efficient in most other areas of our marital and family life. (Like quickly ruining new appliances.) Thus, we need some areas in which we fail spectacularly (or in just really strange ways) in order to make up for our clean kitchen and folded laundry.
One can't have it all, you know.
p.s. I have got to put up one of those baby counters as I am already approaching 21 weeks. The problem is that I can't remember how in the world I got one up the last time. I have tried a few times but something is not working this time. When I get the time, I'll try again as well as post an expanding Elena picture.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Weekly
It seems that my posting has become a weekly event. The thing is that a week passes very quickly around here (and, simultaneously, very slowly: such is life with little children).
Interrupt post to make shoddy paper airplane for fourth-born; wonder how much time will lapse before he returns in complete frustration.
Back to 'the thing' about weekly posting: it doesn't seem like one week since I last posted, it really does seem like yesterday. It also doesn't seem so long ago that I took a picture: but it is, because Isaac's hair is a lot longer since you last saw it.
We went skating last night. Well, Dave skated magnificently while Jacob and Hannah made a faltering return to the ice, Benjamin completed his fourth-ever time on blades and Joseph made a grandiose debut by the end of which he declared, "I just wish that I was older." Apparently he grasps that most skills improve with age. I didn't skate. I stood at the side and tried to convince Isaac that standing atop the garbage bin and watching his siblings circulate to the pulse of modern music was a better idea than scaling bleachers and sneaking into the Zamboni room. Isaac won and my plan for a leisurely skate-watch was thwarted. Such is life with little kids.
Another aspect of life with little kids is throwing up. None has happened here yet; but, I am informed by theologyofdad that the vomit bug has made the rounds at his house and since they visited our house only two days before their bug hit, we are unlikely to escape its virulence. He of the circulating virus tells me that it is mercifully short.
Is that why I feel so nauseous today? Or is it the headache: the dreaded second-trimester headaches that are only conquered by a double dose of extra-strength Tylenol on the third try! Kudos to embracingthenow as her essential oil treatment (so lovingly made by she of the now) has also done the trick a few times.
However, I must go, as another aspect of life with little ones is the poopy bum which is beckoning to me as it sits atop the table flinging porridge onto the floor. In Benjamin's slightly daunting words: "Soon there will be two babies, Mom!!" (New baby and Isaac, not twins.)
One day there will be pictures.
Interrupt post to make shoddy paper airplane for fourth-born; wonder how much time will lapse before he returns in complete frustration.
Back to 'the thing' about weekly posting: it doesn't seem like one week since I last posted, it really does seem like yesterday. It also doesn't seem so long ago that I took a picture: but it is, because Isaac's hair is a lot longer since you last saw it.
We went skating last night. Well, Dave skated magnificently while Jacob and Hannah made a faltering return to the ice, Benjamin completed his fourth-ever time on blades and Joseph made a grandiose debut by the end of which he declared, "I just wish that I was older." Apparently he grasps that most skills improve with age. I didn't skate. I stood at the side and tried to convince Isaac that standing atop the garbage bin and watching his siblings circulate to the pulse of modern music was a better idea than scaling bleachers and sneaking into the Zamboni room. Isaac won and my plan for a leisurely skate-watch was thwarted. Such is life with little kids.
Another aspect of life with little kids is throwing up. None has happened here yet; but, I am informed by theologyofdad that the vomit bug has made the rounds at his house and since they visited our house only two days before their bug hit, we are unlikely to escape its virulence. He of the circulating virus tells me that it is mercifully short.
Is that why I feel so nauseous today? Or is it the headache: the dreaded second-trimester headaches that are only conquered by a double dose of extra-strength Tylenol on the third try! Kudos to embracingthenow as her essential oil treatment (so lovingly made by she of the now) has also done the trick a few times.
However, I must go, as another aspect of life with little ones is the poopy bum which is beckoning to me as it sits atop the table flinging porridge onto the floor. In Benjamin's slightly daunting words: "Soon there will be two babies, Mom!!" (New baby and Isaac, not twins.)
One day there will be pictures.
Monday, January 9, 2012
A New Year
The three oldest kids are back at school today and so is Dave. I am resolved to no longer call him poor Dave on the blog as I realised recently that 'poor Dave' is the way that I most often refer to him when blogging. So, I will call him rich Dave. No, I think that I will stick with Dave as he is neither poor nor very rich, especially after the purchase of a brand new van over the Christmas break. We purchased a Toyota Sienna in Salsa Red (that seats 8) and I am afraid to drive it, especially in and out of the garage.
We had to drive home from Ottawa (the place of purchase) in tandem and I chose to drive the old silver van. Our drive home (2.5 hours) occurred quite close to my bedtime so Jacob was assigned to me to keep his old mother awake. Jacob is the only child who can be trusted to willingly talk for 2.5 hours straight at any time of night or day. I was amazed by the diversity of subjects covered. At one point I asked him what he liked about each of his grandparents. He told me that he loved Dave's mother's "slow and easy ways"; however, he saved the best for last when it came to my own mother (who is awaiting a hip replacement and thus has a bit of an, ahem, adjusted gait.) Jacob said, and I quote: "I love Grandma Julie because I love the way she walks. It's as if she's grooving to the beat." And then I cracked up laughing and he added: "She also has the same laugh as you."
When we were about 40 minutes from home and in the middle of nowhere - which, in these parts, can qualify as most places, (Golden Lake for you locals), I ran out of gas. Well, I had some fumes left: enough to get me to the paternal farm where fuel runs freely. The good part about running out of gas was that I too was running out of steam and the sub-zero pull-over necessitated by the ding of the fuel gauge was enough to wake me up to drive the rest of the way home. Jacob said, "I told you that you should have filled up, woman!" Woman? Dave was very gentlemanly about the whole affair and, I think, that he secretly enjoyed the chance to show off his new van to his parents.
So, the Christmas break is finished and it was very good and very refreshing - two things that it usually isn't. I am buckling down to make it through the wilds of January and February and repeating things to myself like, "At least you don't live in Siberia." And what have we to look forward to this year? I imagine that I will have a second ultrasound sometime within the next month. We will do our best to ascertain whether or not this baby is pink or blue and we will share the news with whomever wishes to hear it. We hope for our annual March Break trek to Halifax but this will depend on my mother's hip surgery. If she is still grooving to the beat, I imagine that we will stay put. I have also started officially schooling Joseph in preparation for his school entry in the Fall. We began this morning with the letters m and s. I was able to identify both.
I have yet to fake any Christmas photos but I will get something up here soon.
We had to drive home from Ottawa (the place of purchase) in tandem and I chose to drive the old silver van. Our drive home (2.5 hours) occurred quite close to my bedtime so Jacob was assigned to me to keep his old mother awake. Jacob is the only child who can be trusted to willingly talk for 2.5 hours straight at any time of night or day. I was amazed by the diversity of subjects covered. At one point I asked him what he liked about each of his grandparents. He told me that he loved Dave's mother's "slow and easy ways"; however, he saved the best for last when it came to my own mother (who is awaiting a hip replacement and thus has a bit of an, ahem, adjusted gait.) Jacob said, and I quote: "I love Grandma Julie because I love the way she walks. It's as if she's grooving to the beat." And then I cracked up laughing and he added: "She also has the same laugh as you."
When we were about 40 minutes from home and in the middle of nowhere - which, in these parts, can qualify as most places, (Golden Lake for you locals), I ran out of gas. Well, I had some fumes left: enough to get me to the paternal farm where fuel runs freely. The good part about running out of gas was that I too was running out of steam and the sub-zero pull-over necessitated by the ding of the fuel gauge was enough to wake me up to drive the rest of the way home. Jacob said, "I told you that you should have filled up, woman!" Woman? Dave was very gentlemanly about the whole affair and, I think, that he secretly enjoyed the chance to show off his new van to his parents.
So, the Christmas break is finished and it was very good and very refreshing - two things that it usually isn't. I am buckling down to make it through the wilds of January and February and repeating things to myself like, "At least you don't live in Siberia." And what have we to look forward to this year? I imagine that I will have a second ultrasound sometime within the next month. We will do our best to ascertain whether or not this baby is pink or blue and we will share the news with whomever wishes to hear it. We hope for our annual March Break trek to Halifax but this will depend on my mother's hip surgery. If she is still grooving to the beat, I imagine that we will stay put. I have also started officially schooling Joseph in preparation for his school entry in the Fall. We began this morning with the letters m and s. I was able to identify both.
I have yet to fake any Christmas photos but I will get something up here soon.
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