The alarm comes sickeningly early in the morning.  After years of complaining about the jarring wake-up call provided by a screaming baby through the monitor … I’m suddenly realizing that the predictability of the same noise at the exact same time every morning is far more annoying.  The fact that the boys always play with my alarm setting it to go off in the trumpeting sound of elephants just sets the tone for the morning.

I miss the screaming.  Because honestly, if we’re going to do honesty here, I’ve been known to make the whimpering hold off in the hopes that the darling baby of mine will be nice to Mommy and go back to sleep.

Now I have to shower, remember how to put on make-up and match my socks to my shirt … it’s not all it’s cracked up to me.  Somehow I think my noon time showers and my boxers and t-shirts chic style was the epitome of spoiled.

I do actually like my job.  Well, strike that.  I LOVE a paycheck, the job is okay too.  There are worse jobs out there in the world and now that the learning curve is starting to wear off into actual productivity … things are bound too hit the usual roller-coaster of life.  I am in an industry where I don’t bring my work home with me (yay!) and it also doesn’t make for thrilling coffe talk so you’re going to have to just pretend that the me from 8-4:30 isn’t the one on public display in this blog.

As for Daddy.. I doubt he’s going to take over for me in the blogging realm.  Frankly that’s something I’m totally okay with.  I’m still hanging on, by the smallest thread, to the notion that I’m not missing out on anything.  Should he start posting the stories about kids in toilets, the playdates and the usual chaos I would be smothered under the guilt that every working parent experiences.  Right now, I’m holding that at bay because the working thing is just so darn sparkly, shiny and new that it’s holding my attention for the time being.  When I come crashing down from this perch be prepared for a sloppy crying mess of a post.

That should happen right about the time one of the kids gets sick and I have to go to work instead of sit on the couch cuddling.

The routine right now is that I get home just after 5 and we have a fraction of the day to spend as a family.  Which I say with sarcasm but that’s not easily conveyed over, you know, the boring black and white of internet text.

For the next 45 minutes the kids cry in unison and I run around trying to get dinner on plates and Daddy out the door for his job.

The upside is that Daddy is getting a crash course in cooking.  I send him instructions over email talking him through the finer points of baking chicken, operating the slow cooker (easily a guy way to cook) and suggesting sides that aren’t easily grabbed from a bag.  (Goldfish, the key to toddler eating success)

I’m certainly not domesticating him.. don’t get me wrong, that’s not the role that we’re trying to make for each other.  Neither job is less important that the other - where my paycheck is good his benefits are to die for - where I got three years uninterrupted with the kids he worked 14 hour days to support us.  Family life is always a trade off.  You have to be working together, moving forward and keeping track of your future.  But, alas, no one is spared from laundry so the role definitions blur into a cohesive unit.

Daddy leaves, and I clean up the table choosing to either do dishes or try to catch kids before the climb on the table and attempt to dive off of it.

(Side note: Boys are dangerous creatures.  The twins are in a new lovely stage where they like to climb onto the table and then chickenfight their way into the seat of the same highchair.  Two boys, one highchair = screaming, hair pulling and someone trying to throw the other to the floor.  If you ever come over and all the chairs are on the table, just grab it off should you need it - just put it back when you vacate it!)

Then thanks to the H-O-T Texas weather we hit the back deck and the kiddie pool in an open attempt on my behalf to tire out the kids and make bedtimes easier.

Bath, cookies (or recently popcorn as A-man can eat his body weight in popcorn if you let him) and then bed for the twins at 8pm.  If I’m really blessed by the Gods on a good night the Little Miss will be asleep by 9pm.

Daddy gets home a little before 11 and I’m asleep but pretending to wait up for him.  Or in cases like last night - I’ll type 99% of a blog post and then fall asleep while reading a book and singing songs to Avery in bed.

It is what it is, the routine is certainly not perfected nor is it immune to the occasional hiccups - tantrums, traffic jams and kids undergoing a change of not only environment but caretaker.  I’ll take it any day over the uncertainty that we had prior.

In the meantime.. my lucky charms are calling.

Well.

Aren’t I quite the slacker?

I seriously haven’t posted for the entire month of June.  How in the world did that happen.. wow.  I’m actually kind of impressed at my silence in the face of all of our recent changes.

We moved.  AGAIN.  Because moving with three kids just wasn’t enough fun the first time I thought I would do it again.  You know, back to the state I had just moved from.  Yeah, I party like that.

Oh.. and for the first time since Avery was born I rejoined the workforce.  I’m sitting here on Sunday after completing my first week back in the office world.  The thoughts still are trying to find a way to settle around my synapses but right now, I’m actually enjoying it.  Like I said though - first week.

Moved.  Got a job.  Have a new house.  Daddy has become the official full-time caretaker of the kids while I’m at work and then we switch off so he can work nights.

Crazy. 

I’d explain more but damn if I can remember any of the rationales at the moment.  It’s the first post back after a busy month, how about that?

Back to regularly scheduled programming after the break.

I was never much of a girlie girl.

Seriously.

Avery came to her love of all things pink all by herself.  She loves dresses, make-up and twirling around like a fairy princess.  She came by all of these behaviors naturally because although I love every inch of who she is.. it certainly wasn’t induced by my coaxing.

In 2003 my world was turned upside down and it was suddenly thrust upon me that I was not only permitted to wear eyeliner - but that having women friends was actually pretty cool.  Prior to that I was the lone girl hanging out in the hockey locker room with a bunch of men who drank, cussed and generally forgave me for being a girl so long as I could skate.

It was what it was.  It also allowed me to meet my future husband so I’m not complaining.

In 2003 I became friends with a small  group of women.  To this day many of those ladies are still the best friends I have in this world.

Oooh yes.. I went digging in the photo archives ladies. 

I never would have told you that walking into the cold ice rink one August afternoon would drastically change the direction of the rest of my adult life.  It sounds like I’m being overly dramatic about it - but there aren’t words to describe how these women have changed my life.

Through the years we have all grown-up, gotten married and following the usual course of the required lifestyle we have had kids, acquired mortgages and moved on in our careers.

Through the wonders of e-mail and our ritual Girls Night Out we have chosen to stay close to one another.  A now defunct pizza parlor, Jack Frosties and allowing ourselves no excuses in our need to get together and gab with the girls - these are the key ingredients to our longevity.

The reason we were brought together in the first place is no longer the reason why we stay together.  But it does always present itself as a photo op every now and again.

~~~~~

It makes me sappy to talk about how much I look forward to raising our kids together.  (Forgive the fact that in the above picture I’m stealing a beautiful and incredibly small baby girl.  I’m in the stage where I cannot remember my babies being that size)

While we were on our extended stay in Dallas we decided to get everyone together for our very first group play date.  Honestly, it was the best evening I’ve had in a very long time.  A Friday night with great friends, pizza and all of us packing into our respective cars and carseats before 9pm.  Things may have certainly changed from our days of old.. but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

We were incredibly blessed/lucky that the reason that brought us all together was also a string that connected our spouses.  After a couple of seasons where boys and girls all played hockey on a team that was built as much for the after-hours parties as for their orange domination on the ice … suddenly our husbands were friends with one another outside of our influence.

Between us we now have 5 kids and one more on the way.  We are well on our way to starting the next generation of co-ed hockey players.

Along the way I know that we’re going to be there for each other every step of the way.  For the kids, for ourselves - for the friendship that we have developed over the years that I’m never going to let go of.

I may have packed up the glitter lotion and the curling iron … but I have the memories that will last a lifetime.  And I have many pictures that will keep any one of you from running for public office. 

I posted a small blurb on Mother’s Day about how I was not only in the hospital with Alex but that I was never a big believer in schmultzing up the holiday.

(shhh.. I’ll pretend that I didn’t reveal a twin name if you stay mum too)

The above picture captures the best gift I could ever receive on Mother’s day. 7 days after she was born I finally got to hold my baby girl. Tubes and wires encompassed her frail 2 pound body but for the life of me the only thing I remember from that experience was the pure joy that your body weeps when you finally get to hold your child for the very first time. I remember the smell of her skin, the fragile hint of her breath against my skin - the feeling of her delicate hand wrapped around my finger.

I could stare at her for hours. From that moment on my body craved the feeling of her warmth on my skin.

I don’t need anything for Mother’s Day other than the recognition that we started from such a fragile footing and every day is a blessing. I need a hug, the smell of their skin before the baby scent fades into the background .. and the memory that without them in my life the world just doesn’t make any sense.

It is 11:30 at night and the reason why I have not been able to sit down and spend time with a blog post is sitting behind me yelling out  “Say MAP Momma”

I really have a sincere dislike for Dora. The intensity of this feeling started one day when I fell asleep to a movie length Dora episode while nursing a severe headache. The loud repetition of the same words over and over again, that which is amazing for kids learning and interactive process, is insanely bad for a migraine.

It has less to do with what we are watching as to the fact that my three year old is still awake at this time of night.

I’m working on it but the extreme changes in her life have her refusing to sleep.

I have Birthday photos of her to edit. Somehow when I wasn’t looking my beautiful Baby Girl turned 3.

Sadly, she has also entered the phase where she is no longer enamored with Mommy’s camera. This is the one shot that I got from what can only be described as a disastrous Birthday photoshoot. At least she is wearing a pretty dress and her nails are perfectly painted in a matching hot pink.

Right now though.. I’m being required to put in a pony tail. After that we will curl up in my bed and watch Dora until one or both of us falls asleep.

It’s exhausting but at the same time - I don’t think I can ever take time spent alone with Avery as a bad thing. Even if it takes me away from blogging. So there you have it.. the culprit behind my silence. She’s cute, has a fresh coat of nail polish applied daily.. and is currently modeling after her night owl mother.

*Contented Sigh*

I am back home. The place where my belongings reside with or without me to interact with them. Most importantly though.. I am back with my computer. The savage box of steel that eats as much of my time as I can allow .. crashing, surfing, editing.

The separation was equally hard because I knew that sitting on the kitchen cabinet was a box that contained my birthday present. The thing I wanted most in this world to celebrate my 28th birthday. Monitor Calibration Software. Beware my beating heart.. I really am that boring.

I’m in love. With a small pen that comes with suction cups.. the one that changed every color as I saw it on this machine. To the point where I was equally fascinated and horrified as I flipped back and forth between the pre and post color changes. This has suddenly made editing much harder as I’m finding that I don’t trust my choices - I’m contrasty, I’m biased when it comes to the subjects (like that’s going to go away) and I’m terrible at skin tones. Also terrible at my on-the-fly metering so I’m actually having to process more photos than I should.. but that’s a camera rant all unto itself.

I missed my computer. With a contented sigh I am happy to announce that we are back together again.

I filled up a 4 gig memory card so be prepared for the onslaught of photos to begin. I give you the perfect way to spend Memorial Day Weekend.. splashing in the water.  (in our case the water hose

Last but not least.. we have a new development in the life of Little Man A.

“It’s hard to describe the sense of unease that settles around your haunches when you realize that you have nothing of yours to return to. Familiar places, faces and scenes from memories stored long ago .. and yet it’s no longer home when you still so wantingly expect it to feel like it.

Wish me luck that I find my place in this world - straddeling the line that connects all facets of my life.  Somehow I doubt figuring that out has anything to do with the crossing of city limits.”

I wrote the above on May 3rd when I was in a car - three kids and two dogs tucked away in every crevice of the once large and now cramped, cracker and milk stained interior - headed back to my old city, state for a week visit.

So much can happen to a person in a week.

Enough so that you are now on week three of a 6 day planned trip.

And within all of it you still come back to the thought that home is wherever your family happens to be at that very moment.  The isolation stings with the knowledge that you cannot surround yourself with the comorts of a space that you have made your own.  I miss the smell of home, the quiet moments that whisper to you that everything is comfortable with the imprint of your life and your routines.

In one week I had every piece of my life shatter - the perceptions changed, my priorities were aligned, my world no longer held the same face that I once asked of it.

And I’m okay with that.

We all have to start somewhere and the place where I begin again is here.  In a space where I don’t own a pillow, in a house that is not mine… surrounded by all that I will ever need in the word - my family.

The city limits have changed and are about to change again.

Home is what you make of it.  Family is what makes your life complete.

It is now night 4 of our hospital stay and it’s starting to eerily become easier around the edges to be here. You learn to stop expecting anything else and instead you just live in between the moments where the Doctors or Nurses come and invade your small remake of home. Except with iv tubing and bright green walls as your new decor.

The little man is well on his way to good health - he just decides to make a scene around the time rounds hit in the morning thus prompting elongted treatment times. Were the illness not plainly obvious I’d accuse the lovelyboy of enjoying his solo time a bit too much.

He is sick. He is very much in the right place. He also stands a very good chance ofgiing home the next time we see the doctor. Cross your fingers.

Happy Mothers Day!

Today I am curled up with a sleeping little one lying on my chest. I’m not celebrating with flowers, brunch or gifts to unwrap. Today, I am just a Mother in the truest sense of the word.

Little man A was admitted to the hospital on Friday and he’s curled up on me sleeping to the soft clicking of the IV pump at our side. Sick, but getting better under the watchful care of our Children’s hospital.

E-man and Avery are without their Mommy on Mothers Day, and most importantly I’m without them.

A though needs me the most. In those heartbreaking ways that Hallmark cannot provide cards for.

In truth - I will never need a card or flowers on this day - 4 years ago on my very first Mothers Day the bar was set with a different understanding. My baby girl was 7 days old and Mothers Day 2006 was the very first time I got to hold her.

All I need is a cuddle and all is right with the world.

Happy Mothers Day to everyone out there. Celebrate who you are and also those little ones who so amazingly change our lives and our hearts on an hourly basis.

I’m horrendous in updating recently and that has everything to do with the appearance of Daddy into our world for an extended stay.  Of course we cannot thank him enough for coming home and then making everyone in the house sick.

The one thing I do NOT do is the stomach flu.

I hoped beyond hope that at some point I would get past my debilitating fear of such things and be able to care for my children.  My husband, bless his heart, already well knows that he’s on his own unless medication, liquids or an ambulance is needed.

Yeah, I’m a great mother right up until someone starts to throw up.  I wish I was kidding, but the phobia is great and I have absolutely no clue where it came from but it does in fact own me.

Even more than that.. I will not allow myself to come down with it too.  All three kids and the husband have been infected but I’m praying that I will withstand the onslaught.

Wish me luck.  Heck, wish all of us luck.  This is our first time since having kids to have the stomach flu that so commonly makes a round robin through families.  Knock on wood it goes away and never, ever, ever, ever comes back.

Until then I will be hiding under a rock with lots and lots of hand sanitizer.  Of course, the Little Miss will be sleeping in my bed with me and the other infected party.. so I think the hand sanitizer is all for show at this point anyway.  *sigh*