Let it Snow!

It snowed a bit here...

some sources say 12", others say 19"...

Regardless, it makes it seem much brighter out there and we are spending much more time playing outside catching happy rays and having fun.

The baby stepped out in the snow for his first time yesterday and just sort of stood there. Not that he could move much if wanted to, with snow up to his knees and bundled up like an astronaut. He did enjoy sitting in the wagon and being pulled (good exercise, I tell ya) and actually screamed and banged on the window when I brought his cold body back inside.

Today we have even more snow. All school is cancelled (which means homeschool for everyone - though they hardly know it since it's so much fun learning at home), and also a morning spent outside. No wagon pulling today - it's way too deep. But Baby pulled his own and really trudged through the snow in order to climb steep hills, daringly slide down on his own and even throw snowballs at his siblings! Little E, who HATES snow and cold with a passion dug a deep hole, is collecting "boulders" and could hardly be pulled away from his collection when tempted with donuts and hot chocolate to come inside. We've had a few cases of frost bite... but it's curable! Slapping his mitten on the snowback and creating "mitten" prints. He can't get enough of the snow! The "hole" with the "boulder collection" at the top of a snowbank!

Hear Me ROAR!

I’m starting to think that bears, and other hibernating animals, have the right idea. Lately I’ve been feeling a lot like hibernating myself. What is it about winter that makes me so much more sleepy than any other time? I can’t get enough sleep at night, and my body is begging for a rest either early afternoon or right after dinner. I have zero enthusiasm for food and meals, and yet that doesn’t stop my body from begging for delicious desserts and delicacies and putting on that extra winter weight. Going outside is miserable to me. We finally have our first “acceptable” amount of snow, but pretty much it’s been cold and boring outside. My half hour walk a day just isn’t giving me the right dosage of vitamin D or happiness that supposedly sun and fresh air bring. I’m grumpy. Yes the January blues are typical and expected, but the fact that it’s hitting so late in the month makes me feel like it will last an eternity. I really do feel like a grumpy old bear, and I think I may prefer not to be bothered until sometime early spring. Anyone want to join me in my lair?

When I Grow Up...

Mr. T had a follow-up from his surgery last May. Everything looks wonderful. We couldn't be happier.

I don't know if this stemmed from the trip up to the hospital, but he just told me:

"When I grow up I'm going to be a doctor. I'm going to be the kind of doctor that helps make people better. So Mom, if you're sick, I'll even come to your house so you don't have to make an appointment or wait in a waiting room... I'll just come to you and make you better."

Sounds like a great plan.

Little E, trying to one up his big brother is going to do magic when he grows up. He's practicing right now... making a feather disappear inside a straw - spectacular. He also claims he'll be able to make me better with his magic when he grows up to be Harry Potter. I can't wait.

(And no, I'm not sick... in any way shape or form!)

Waking Up on the Wrong Side of the Bed

With all of Mr. Man’s recent and constant travels, I’ve acquired several new bedmates. Somehow they can sense that my bed is only half full and it must leave some sort of unbalanced feeling in the house so that one, two or all three boys will at some point in the night come to my half-empty-bed rescue. Ironically one night, Mr. T, who is the craziest sleeper (meaning he moves around like he’s in some sort of wrestling match with his blankets, and wins every night) was in bed with Baby J and I and finally announced that he thought the baby was wiggling around too much and he couldn’t sleep so could we send him back to his own bed? I thought it was a great idea and sent them both back to their own beds. Now that Mr. Man has spent a couple of nights at home, the result is that they keep trying to get into my bed and find that there isn’t a spot for them… this results in tears and hurt feelings and the need for compassion and an escort back to their own beds… over and over again. Needless to say, I’m tired. Last night Mr. Man reasoned that we should trade sides of the bed – which is very brave of him for two reasons. First, it means he may have a rough night sleep, fending off the children and second, because it is due to his fear of the dark, the boogie man and any home invader that keeps him from sleeping next to the door in the first place. So we switched sides. Just knowing I wouldn’t have to deal with a kajillion awakenings helped me to sleep better. Mr. Man awoke early to get a head start on his day and I couldn’t believe how well I had slept. I thanked him and asked how bad it was. Knowing he can sleep through a fog horn, he admitted he hadn’t heard a thing all night and asked if I had. So it was a good night, or so it seemed. A while after he left, Baby J awoke. Being the lazy morning mother that I am, I brought him back into bed to me for a morning nurse so we could both sleep just a little bit longer. His soft little fuzzy head was just beneath my chin and I leaned over to smell his still sweet baby smell… and I nearly died. He stunk so bad, and he had just had a bath before bed. The smell was intoxicating, and so familiar… it wasn’t until the other three joined us in bed that I realized he smelled like vomit. That’s when our lazy morning sprung to action… somehow he had thrown up in his bed and all over himself in the night without either of us hearing it. I felt horrible, as did Mr. Man upon hearing the account. If waking up on the wrong side of the bed entails picking up piles of puke and sanitizing and bathing first thing in the morning, I think I may just take the lack of sleep. Gross. (By the way, he hasn’t been sick since and seems fine, eating normally and everything. I think it was the ice cream we had last night and his little semi-lactose-intolerant belly just couldn't handle it.)

Fortune Cookie

Without going into details, Mr. Man has been traveling all over lately for interviews. I keep telling myself this is good. It is good. It is also exhausting and stressful - for both of us. Thankfully he was able to spend this past weekend at home with us before departing for another busy week. While he enjoyed being with the family, he insisted we have time alone as well. And thanks to great last minute babysitters, we enjoyed some good Chinese food and conversation. When we were leaving and were handed our fortune cookies, Mr. Man was a bit trepidatious and before taking his inquired as to if they were good fortunes. "Always" was the reply. He still didn't want to open his... so I did the honor, and really it was. As trying as all the travelling and constant presentations are for him, his fortune Saturday was "You need not worry about your future." Mine read, "Sing and rejoice, fortune is smiling."

I'm suddenly feeling quite superstitious.

Integration

With MLK day just around the corner, we've been talking and reading about civil rights and freedoms, and of course the great dreams and realities that took so long to come to be. Children are so precious in their views of equality, and it's hard for them to comprehend a world full of such hatred. At any rate, for one activity this week I had the boys read a few books about Martin Luther King Jr.'s life and spectacular speech and then draw a picture representing his dream. They were convinced they had to draw Dr. King with a big microphone (as you can see), and slowly the drawings changed to include not only black and white little boys playing together, but Yoda as well. When describing these pictures to my brother, he insisted that Dr. King would be impressed with their inclusion as that is REAL integration.

Odds and Ends

I love natural consequences. It is so fabulously delicious when it works out and one simply falls into my amateur parenting hands. We had one such instance the other night when all the stars aligned and Mr. Man and I were just gleeful at how perfect the natural consequence was. Miss J had stayed up WAY past her bedtime and was sassy about it too. Mr. Man told her that she would have to go to bed early in order to make up the same amount of sleep that she had missed. So she not only had to go to bed uncharacteristically early, but, like I said, the natural consequence was lovely in that it was the night that her beloved “American Idol” was on. And she missed it. Choices.

It’s been cold here compared to our regular mild winters, but it brings back such fond memories for me of Canadian winters. We’ve had delays for school, which seems so odd when I look out and my car doesn’t even need to be scraped. I truly remember walking to the bus stop (which was farther away than we walk Miss J to school) all bundled up while my Mom pulled some of my siblings in a sled through a blizzard, with snow piled up above my head on either side of the sidewalk. But apparently it is dangerously cold here. Today when we walked Miss J to school (after the 2 hour delay) I had people calling me crazy, but the kids found it remarkable that they could sniff and their boogers would freeze on the spot. Definitely fond childhood memories. I was smiling so much my teeth were freezing!

Eggplant was on sale the other day, and I couldn’t resist. It’s not that I adore the taste of eggplant, though I do like it, but I am utterly attracted to eggplant. I have it sitting on my counter and if just looks so beautiful there, I hate to have to cut and cook it. Truly, the most sensuous vegetable I have had the chance to lay eyes on. Mmmmmmm.

We had the missionaries over for dinner tonight, and Miss J initiated the conversation by stating, “I got in big trouble this morning.” The kind missionary asked, “With who?” I was impressed with the answer my daughter gave: “With myself. I was trying to get the water out of the fridge and I knocked a big jar of spaghetti sauce and the jar broke into a million pieces of glass and the sauce was everywhere and it was a big mess. Mom was not happy. But then we made cookies and ate them with milk and everything was better.” I love that kisses, cookies and milk still can save a day.

Thank you?

I have to share... because I am dying over this!

My son brought home a thank you note from his preschool teacher today. The note read:

"Thank you so much for the yummy Christmas mints! I absolutely love dark chocolate and these are the perfect treat. You are so sweet to think of me. Thank you again!"

Not a big deal unless you are aware of what the gift was. We made fabric covered magnets -totally cute - for our teachers this year, and put them in decorated empty chocolate flavoured altoid tins. I have a few presumptions, but I'm not sure how to proceed:

1. This teacher is as blonde as she looks (I can say this because I am a blonde, but you all know what I mean without having to slander anyone)
2. If #1 is correct, said teacher may have swallowed several magnets, buttons and fabric and thought they tasted like chocolate.
3. She didn't even open up the tin, wrote the thank you note and threw our precious creation away because really she hates chocolate flavoured mints.
4. She is an enthusiastic thank you card writer (with which I find no fault) and simply wrote the card before opening the gift and is now dying over what she wrote before knowing what she was given.

So, do I ask her how they really tasted?

It's Official

We’re moving. No, we have no clue where or when. But I can feel it so very deeply, and interestingly enough I am in mourning, per say. Oh I’m thrilled to pieces, absolutely excited about what the future may hold for our little family. We speak constantly of this adventure we are on… not so much a “choose your own adventure”… more a “they choose us” adventure, but still, an adventure nonetheless. I can just picture the home we will make our own, the stages and ages that all will be as we make this change; the sense of stability and of knowing will be wonderful. I can’t wait. And yet, this has become home for so much longer than any other home in our married life, and so I don’t doubt I will be homesick. The walls and railing here are badly in need of paint. I wait until we are moving, but I will also be painting over years of childhood fingerprints – three separate three year olds have hung and swung on those railings (breaking one off at least twice). The growth chart we have penciled in on the wall will be gone. There will once again be grass in the great mud pit we call our backyard, but it won’t be any fun once we’re gone. Our little home is the largest house we’ve had, and it holds a large portion of my family and child-rearing memories and moments. Somewhere in our passing through to spend a few years going to school, we settled in. My heart is heavy when I think of the friends we will leave behind, even ones who are leaving or have already left will still stay with this moment in time. And it’s hard. As I begin the reaching out to moms in other towns, braving the initial email begging for the inside scoop on their niche in the world, I realize what I am leaving. In fact, I’m making Mr. Man apply for a “back-up” position right here in town, and while it would be career defacing for him, we would all be pretty happy. Regardless, our adventure is happening right before our eyes and may take us anywhere. And as long as we are together and have more memories to make, we should live happily ever after; I hear fingerprints follow you wherever you go.

Spelling Sentences

2nd Grade Homework: Use the following spelling words in complete sentences. Underline each spelling word.

So, do we let our daughter turn this sentence in?

"I shook the baby until he fell to sleep. I stood there and slept."

Hmmmmmm.

Small Town Girl

So here I am in San Francisco, California – and gee, it’s actually kind of cold. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect a lot of what is here… really I’ve led quite a sheltered life. The sounds and smells of a big city are both intoxicating and a bit inhibiting – at least for me. There are people everywhere, and constant noise. I understand better the meaning behind wanting to escape the city. While I love the thrill of walking around these hilly streets, exploring the fun stores I’ve only ever seen in movies and could never actually afford to shop in, hustling and bustling along with everyone else who all obviously have somewhere very important to be going – or is that just the pace of this city – I don’t know, I miss my small town. The smells are as loud as the sirens and trolley bells, and they linger on my hair and clothing. There is no escape. The lines are long. The stores are full of people. How can you make a decision of what to buy when you are shoulder to shoulder with dozens of others, their voices competing with the thundering music that blares and drowns out your heartbeat that threatens to explode? I can’t. I can hardly browse, let alone breathe. I suppose I’ve been spoiled with so much peace and solitude in my life. I’ve become slow-paced and relaxed and could hardly deal with a long line-up at The Cheesecake Factory – though the reward was more than scrumptious. Riding elevators reaching the maximum capacity makes my small townhome filled with family seem like a mansion. The homeless beggars are everywhere, and there are people from all over the world within a few small blocks. Homeless or not, they have made the city their home. Or perhaps they are just visiting, as am I. So for a few days I will enjoy the thrill of big city life, knowing that my quiet life awaits, and this will just be a short but enjoyable adventure. Where else can I find palm trees surrounding an outdoor ice rink with Tiffany and Co. overlooking? Funny, I never thought of myself as a small town girl… nor have I thought of my life as a mother of four quiet. Perspective is a powerful and pleasant precept.

I AM HERE

It's interview time for Mr. Man. Wish us luck.

"Stand Back!"

We've been having more snot rockets... the most embarrassing one being in the middle of church when I was on my last kleenex and the boy had to hold his hands to his face and walk past everyone to go to the restroom to get cleaned up.

In searching for fun books to read during winter break, I came across this one - thinking of the boy and his issues. Let me tell you, it is a very fun read and such a hilarious story. The writing is wonderful and the pictures will make you laugh out loud and tell the story themselves. I definitely recommend checking out this book: "Stand Back," Said the Elephant, "I'm Going to Sneeze!"

'Twas

'Twas another memorable Christmas... one filled with family and wonderful traditions - not to mention good food.

'Twas another Sunday where I did sharing time and reinforced our 2008 theme: "I am a Child of God" one more time. I love my calling. I never thought I would say that.

'Twas another afternoon enjoying writing journals, thank you notes and talking about goals for the New Year.

Of course I'm also pondering the blogosphere and have decided to become more private. 'Twas inevitable... and thus the shortness of the season's events.

I do want to share this incredible story that filled me up and gave me warm fuzzies realizing the caring spirit of humankind that not only 'twas, but 'tis... enjoy.

Beautiful Birthday Girl; Beautiful Day

Presents
Bowling
Good Friends

Baptism

Lots of Family

= a memorable day for all of us

Beauty is a Beast

I was busy holding her hand when the big crocodile tears came down... but all in all she is happy with her honkin' huge diamond earrings! I fear we will be in trouble with all the "bling" that may be expected in her future! But she's happy and she sure looks pretty too!

Week... end!

Parties and more parties! It always seems like you hit a certain date in December where suddenly there is no turning back and so many events to attend. I wish they could be more spread out... but it is also kind of fun. Today at church the boys were planning yet another party with some of their friends and apparently Mr. T offered to bring the popcorn because, "Popcorn makes the party" - didn't you know!

We were all pretty happy this weekend. We mixed in some service with some fun though it was busy busy busy, the kids were happy to finally see Santa and I was happy to finally see "Twilight".

Sneaking some illegal mall santa pics - they wanted me to pay $17 for this horrible shot! Little E asked for another baby brother. We're not letting them watch "Miracle of 34th Street" again!

This santa was a bit too touchy feely. Later he was rubbing Baby J's leg and telling him how pretty he was - just like his Mommy - when he started rubbing my leg I nearly kicked his hand and we got up. If you look closely at this picture he's staring over at me instead of listening intently to my daughter's wishes. Mrs. Claus needs to accompany him on more business trips I think.

Mr. T's awesome physical therapist at the clinic's annual Snowflake Festival... seriously the best Christmas party around. Every year my kids think it's hilarious that she forgets to get dressed the day of the party!

He won a prize doing the "cake walk" (sans cake) game. This is seriously his new best friend.

Little E's amazing speech therapist and my good friend. Aren't they both adorable?!

SOOO ready to see "Twilight" - and yes, that's a nice new jacket (though not the best picture of it).

I loved this - five boys, 2 controlers, 1 star wars video game. We were having a math lesson!

Our graham cracker gingerbread houses from playgroup. I only burned myself twice this year - though I still have another twenty to make for school next week!

Bell ringing in the warm mall. Our friends stopped by and this is the first picture we have of us doing this - though it is our fourth or fifth year (I can't recall). We were stationed right across from Claires so Miss J could watch all the Christmas shoppers getting their ears pierced -something that will be happening for her this week!

And I didn't even bring my camera to EVERYTHING we did. I'm sure you all know what I mean. Next weekend brings with it even more festivities and also lots of family coming... so this may be it for a while. A girl can only put off cleaning her bathroom for so long :)

Merry Christmas.

Missing in Action

In the midst of all the falalalala I’ve been trying to update or apply for all that comes with belonging to this country. Passports, drivers license, social security… except each place takes certain documents that others require the original for and vice versa, so that there is a very delicate order in which to do all of these fantastic form-filling flings. Thankfully I speak English rather well, and so I’m at a bit of an advantage… but still… “expect delays” is my new mantra when entering a government building with several children following suit.

And, should all the stars align and my computer co-operate (ie – not crash), I should be able to complete our family gift in time for Christmas mailing – or am I already too late… oh, that means entering another government-run building doesn’t it. Anyways, I really think that homemade gifts can be wonderfully meaningful, but gosh darn it aren’t they so time consuming? Time is love, right? Is that why my kids aren’t feeling it lately? I was also working making some money for the first time in years, but geeze, that’s time consuming too. I want more time for Christmas… and I’d love to get that gift early.

Miss J told us about a nightmare she had the other night where she died. It was so real that she was crying. She said Mr. Man and I went into her bedroom to mourn her loss when all of a sudden we saw her tsi tsi (nickname for her blankie) and her cat floating off into the sky… since her “invisible” spirit came back for her comfort objects. We had to do a bit of explaining about not bringing our “things” with us… but we did promise to bury them in her coffin with her and she seemed okay with that. She is getting ready to be baptized next week and said the other day that she can’t believe how fast this time has come, that she feels like she should have another year before she’s eight. Oh, hunny… I know!

Mr. T is spending hours outside in the cold – whether or not there is snow – he loves the cold. He is also up early early every morning trying to find where our elf, Snowflake, has situated himself for the day. Our schooling has gotten a little bit more laid back as we enjoy making homemade gifts for siblings and cousins, but there is lots to learn about snowflakes, penguins and gingerbread boys, right?! And he is reading... yeah! A whole new world has opened up.

Little E loves all the commercial cheese that comes with Christmas, and in a way its enjoyable. Personally, I like classic decorations, and could never imagine putting coloured lights on my tree or a blown-up santa, reindeer or penguin on my front lawn. But Little E is delirious over these decorations. He spots them as we drive around and is always the first to exclaim, “Look at those decorations! Ooooh, I love that. We need to get that decoration. It’s beautiful!” And really, it is fun isn’t it. So I pulled out the santa towels I’ve had for years but never been able to swallow and actually hang… and it’s not so bad. In fact, I watched Mr. T comb Santa’s beard along with his own hair this morning. So I’m trying to enjoy the childlike pleasures. The other day in the car I spotted the “beautiful decorations” first and excitedly told Little E. I definitely thought I was scoring points until he replied, “I know Mom, I see those every day.” So I still have a bit to learn.
Baby J needs a new name on my blog… he is no longer a baby. He is starting to babble constantly and imitate many many words he hears us say. He is fluent in his own language, and we’re hoping he picks up on more of ours as well. “Dora” and “Elmo” – pronounced “Melmo” are big time favourites, and every santa and snowman are affectionately pointed at and called “Melmo” as well. He is sure going to be aware of what goes on this Christmas. While definitely a trouble-maker (I know, it’s the age) he is also so very loving and has such a sweet demeanor, that you can’t help but be captivated by his flirtatious smile.

So, don’t stop checking My Many Coloured Days… we are well, but we are busy… and besides, there are big flakes coming down as I write that will need to be enjoyed, or at least gazed at from inside while sipping hot chocolate!

Partners

Our family has a soft spot for ambulances, ever since my brother’s life was so carefully and quickly cared for within one. Just moments ago, while driving, we pulled over so that one could race through a red light. The boys also offered a quick prayer for the person whose life must be in jeopardy, as I too offered a prayer in my heart. Immediately afterwards the following conversation ensued:

Mr. T: “That’s what I want to be when I grow up.”
Me (touched): “An ambulance driver? That’s really special.”
Mr. T: “No. A police officer. I want to race through red lights, have my lights flashing, and you know what the best part is?”
Me: “What?”
Mr. T: “You get to carry a real gun.”
Little E: “Yeah. After I’m a Jedi Knight, I’m going to be a police officer too.”
Mr. T: “You’re going to have to be careful with your gun. You can only use it if there are bad guys that are going to kill someone good.”
Little E: “Yeah. But sometimes little kids are bad and you have to shoot them too.”
Mr. T: “I think you better stick with me and we’ll be partners. We can work together and drive in our police car.”
Little E: “I want to drive.”
Mr. T: “Well, you can’t. I’m older.”
Little E: “You’ll always be older than me. But someday I’ll be bigger. I’ll be bigger than you and then I’ll make you let me drive.”
Mr. T: “Don’t you want to be a cowboy? Cowboys are cool. They get to carry a gun and a whip – just like Indiana Jones.”

I love the older brother manipulation here! Also, it was only the other night that Mr. Man stated that he hoped none of our kids would ever be police officers. Sorry Mr. Man. Although, you may end up with a cowboy too.

Sleepless Thoughts

I believe in life after death; sincerely and with an immense amount of gratitude for Him whose season we celebrate. I love that our Savior loves us so much to allow us to love forever. While I do not pretend to know or understand all that our afterlife will be, I do wonder about it from time to time, and I definitely know that it exists.

As someone who loves to sleep as a hobby, I have often contemplated whether or not that hobby will move with my spirit. This was just one of the many thoughts that rolled through my exhausted mind last night while I succored my poor, sick with the chicken pox, baby and then suffered from insomnia in between his un-restful moments. How can a parent sleep when there are children with needs to be met, lessons to be taught, and love to be tendered? As I rocked (either my child or myself to sleep) I pondered the needs and trials of many people in our family, church and community. My heart ached and my mind contemplated and many prayers were offered. And I realized, our Father must get much less sleep than I did last night. He who has so many children with so many needs, He who has so much to give, teach and offer. How He must ache to have rocked his infant Son, and how He must ache when we don’t allow Him to comfort us in our daily grievances. He must smile from above when He sees one of his children stop their selfish cares and truly care for another one of His children; just as I beam when one of my children takes a moment to make the other sincerely laugh and smile.

And I feel blessed. All of my children are birthed. We have been fortunate enough to be spared the death of a new baby; the horrors of having to bury such a small infant are beyond me. There are so many who are not spared this experience. Sickness, real sickness, is another that is so far beyond the small annoyances we have been dealt. As I spoke with a young father whose baby, just a couple of months younger than my own, has recently been diagnosed with leukemia and is sentenced to at least a year in hospital with a 50/50 chance of survival, I feel heartache mixed with relief. As I listened to his testimony of how they are going to survive this devastating challenge, I again felt certain that there is life after death, love beyond this earth and ultimately incredible love in this life. I hope that we will all allow the joy of the season, the season of giving, the season of Christ to enter into our hearts and our homes. May we love and live so that our love blesses the lives of all of God’s children. Because, as a parent, I know that it takes more than just me to raise a child.