Christmas Miracle

...that we were actually able to get a group picture with all the grandchildren that were present!





In every one of the group pictures, Addie had her eyes closed. Go figure.

The Twins Turn 3 Today!

Apparently, a Christmas balloon is the best. present. ever.

Q, R, S...

... and Loose Tooth T!

Memory Lane Monday

Aunt Irene was my maternal great-aunt and the kids' great-great-aunt, but she was more like a another grandmother to us all. She never had any children of her own, but she doted on my kids, especially the little girls. She loved them all, but with every pregnancy she'd say, "I hope it's a little girl!" especially after Scott, Brian & Conor were born in succession.

When Clare came along, Aunt Irene was over the moon, and Clare loved her every bit as much. Clare was an especially adorable little girl who had Aunt Irene wound around her little finger. There was nothing she wouldn't have given Clare if Clare had asked. When we'd visit, Aunt Irene would always slip Clare a little bit of money from her purse. I used to dress Clare with pockets just so she'd have someplace to put her stash.

It got to be such a habit that when we'd walk in to her apartment, Clare learned to go straight for Aunt Irene's purse. Aunt Irene would smile indulgently and say, "Go ahead." Clare would fish into the purse and sometimes come out with a five, a ten or a twenty, and Aunt Irene would insist that she be allowed to keep it. Of course, we're talking about giving that kind of money to a one-year-old. We always slipped it back into her purse, unnoticed, later.

Aunt Irene was increasingly tortured with dementia during the last years of her life. My husband Andy was her primary caregiver at the end, and the only person that she still trusted. She died in her bed March 13th, 2004. Today would have been her 97th birthday.

Aunt Irene & Clare

Annual Christmas Portrait Misery

HA! I WISH it were this easy!

Seriously, all the kids are around this weekend, so we will be taking our annual family shot tonight or tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to this! - not.

Last year's portrait session is here.

Artwork courtesy of Sarah, Prime Minister of Doodles, artiste/medical-examiner/coffee-shop-owner-in-residence.

Thanksgiving

10:55 p.m. Tuesday night.

Everybody here is tucked in for the night, the college girl is out with friends, the 16yo is on his way home for an 11:00 curfew, and I'm happily settled down with Colin Firth to watch the end of Bridget Jones's Diary. The phone rings. I answer with a grimace, expecting it's Scott calling me to "explain" why he's going to be a few minutes late for his curfew.

Instead, his ragged, sobbing, panicked voice gasps through the phone.

"MommyMommyMommyMommyMommyI'msorryI'msosorryI'msorryMommyMommyMommythecarthecarIrolledthecarI'msosorryIthinkI'mbleedingMommyMommyMommy."

And his whole world, and mine, gets turned upside down in a heartbeat. In that one split second that you wish with your whole heart and soul that you could take back, but you can't.

He was so upset that I couldn't get him to stop talking long enough to say anything. I screamed into the phone, "Scott! Where are you? WHERE ARE YOU??"

His phone may have been damaged and he was definitely in shock, so he could barely hear me. When he did answer me, he was able to give me a general description of where he was. So many scenarios flashed through my mind. My son, alone and bleeding on a lonely road. I don't want him to be alone. I don't want him to leave the scene. What do I tell him to do? No matter; whatever I told him to do, there will be those who think I told him the wrong thing.

I screamed for dependable Brian, let him know what happened, told him I was leaving and he was in charge at the house in case any younger ones needed anything. I threw on shoes and raced for the car. It was slick and foggy and I could barely keep myself from speeding. Only the fear of another accident, never making it to him, kept me under 70. Audible, desperate, rapid-fire, non-stop prayers were on my lips every second.

As I made the last turn, I realized that I had five minutes of dark highway ahead of me, and he could have been anywhere. I didn't know exactly where he was, and of course I left the house without my own cell phone, purse, brain. All I remembered to take with me was my heart - in my throat - and my prayers. I didn't know whether the authorities had yet been alerted. As I slowed to look carefully, my prayers turned into, "Oh Lord, please lead me to him. Please show me where to find him."

In seconds, yellow flashing lights appeared on the road behind me. I pulled over and followed them, guessing they'd lead me to him. And a minute farther down - or was it an hour? - I came upon the scene.

What really happened...he went off the road a little bit and before he could right himself, the wheels went into a ditch and he lost control. There was no alcohol involved, no drugs, no friends, no texting or phone calls. He says he wasn't speeding, and the state trooper corroborated this. He went down a slope and the car started to roll. At first I thought it rolled sideways, but after viewing the crash site by daylight it is apparent that the car tumbled, end over end, for about a hundred feet. You can see the scarred earth where the front bumper dug in initially, and the way it landed, sandwiched between two trees, seems to confirm this.

It landed on the driver's side in the woods down an short but steep embankment. Somehow he unfastened his seatbelt and climbed out through one of the shattered windows. He crawled up the bank, shoeless, bleeding, glasses lost, where an unknown passer-by stopped, sat with him on the guardrail, covered him with a blanket and called 911. Three more people stopped to help. The next car to pass unbelievably contained two friends of his who stopped and stayed with him until it was all over. Police, fire, ambulance, tow truck arrived.

When I pulled my own car over, I couldn't even remember how to turn off the lights. I just got out and ran into the scene, trying to find him. When I took my place at his side, he grabbed my hand and held on so tight. He was in a cervical collar by then, he was cold and shaking, and his face was covered with blood. Questions were answered. Details were given. He was moved to a rigid stretcher and placed in the ambulance, and I followed as they made their way slowly through the foggy night.

The hospital wasn't crowded and thankfully, the waiting involved wasn't interminably long. Tests soon made it apparent that despite his pain, there wasn't any serious injury, and five hours after the accident, we were on our way home.

He is resting upstairs now, in much pain, but the guilt and remorse are far more painful. The bills are already racking up. Even though he swears he wasn't speeding, he will be receiving a citation. But we will deal with all of that. My son will live to see another day and put this all behind him.

As I told him last night in his hospital bed, while wiping tears from his blood-streaked face - there was only one thing in that car that couldn't be replaced. My son would come home with me. I was painfully aware of the parents there that night, every night, who wouldn't be able to say the same. And we are grateful.

God is good. Thank you, Lord.





Three of the side windows were smashed out, and only one door opens. Scott has abrasions from the broken glass all over his face, arms and hands, and a cut on his head. Thankfully none of the x-rays showed any breaks or fractures. The car is unsalvageable.

Memory Lane Monday

Crazy baby Noelle

Dear Family,

Don't say I didn't warn you!

Memory Lane Monday

We babysat two boxers from March-August 2005. The kids have nothing but glowing memories about how great the dogs were, and how much they miss them. I remember little except for the dog poop in the yard, continual chewing and eating of inappropriate items, soiling of the carpet, and barking nonstop when we left the house.

The dogs did have their moments, though.

Watching TV.

December 2009

Memory Lane Monday

Daddy & Clare, Summer 2003. She had just turned two.

Memory Lane Monday

I can't decide if "whimsical," "playful," or "zany" would be a better fit for Sarah. Either way, here is a glimpse of that side of her, sharing her egg sandwich with her "best friend" Theresa. Theresa was Sarah's best friend from age 1-4, until right about the time that Theresa developed an attitude.

Memory Lane Monday

I love this picture. This is Brian, 6 years old, nearly toothless, taken just after his first-ever day of football practice. He was dirty, and tired, and had never been happier in his life.

August 2003

Twin Hijinks

Toilet training must be exhausting. The twins have napped every day this week, even though they stopped taking naps at the beginning of the summer.

Day 5 was another success (both girls stopped withholding!!), except that by now, they've started to go more frequently in hopes of receiving more frequent potty treats. I'm going to have to switch to stickers!

On another note, their bedroom came equipped with built in dressers and shelves which, aside from being handy space-savers, also lend themselves well to other purposes...

The difference between Natalie and Noelle is apparent: Noelle is much more timid and cautious, while Natalie exuberantly plunges into things headfirst. Noelle is shy around people and hides behind my legs, but Natalie is talkative. Natalie always has a twinkle, whereas Noelle usually looks slightly cross.

Free Homeschooling Resources

I just found two free homeschooling resources that I'm really excited to share.

The first is called Happy Hearts Homeschooling Library, self-described as "A source of free online vintage homeschool books and curricula." These are available at any time.

Next is The Homeschool Freebie of the Day, "Every weekday, Monday through Friday, we’ll post a new homeschooling “freebie” to this site. What kind of “freebies”? Stuff like: Unit Studies… Ebooks… Audio Programs… Games… Samples… Lesson Plans… classic books… and other quality resources!" These are only available for a short window, about 24 hours each, so check back often! Or subscribe to their newsletter, which will give you a sneak peek at the upcoming week's freebies.

My thanks to these two dedicated webmasters for gathering and sharing this information!

Blessings!
Michele <3

A Long, Rambling Day in the Life

Caught in the act - working with Clare on math, with a twin in attendance and the ubiquitous cup of coffee in front of me

Today has been pretty ordinary overall. The babies woke me up at nine o'clock a.m. I was a big slug very reluctant to leave my warm covers, since my bedroom was quite chilly and I was up until almost three a.m. blogging and watching the Orionid meteor shower (I saw 4, but only one good one).

However, we are currently in TWIN POTTY TRAINING, DAY 3, so I knew I only had a limited time after they woke up before they had to hit the head before any accidents occurred. So I dragged us all to the bathroom and did a status check. Natalie's nighttime diaper was bone dry, and she tinkled on the toilet within seconds of climbing up. WIN! Noelle's diaper was somewhat warm and squishy, meaning she'd already voided, but it was pretty recent and not very much. Oh well. She tried on the toilet anyway, without any success.

I rattled everybody else's cages on the way downstairs and started a pot of coffee. The downstairs was a moderate mess, mostly unfolded laundry and a sink of dirty dishes. I put in a My Little Pony movie that the twins had never seen and took care of the housework quickly. Then I dashed upstairs for a quick - and very necessary - shower.

We had scrambled egg & cheese on tortillas for breakfast, then Clare took a shower and the twins received a bath. They usually get a bath in the evening, but I find that I'm so worn out at the end of most days that I don't have the energy to fight with them over the hair-washing and drying (the screaming is usually considerable). It worked out much better in the daytime; so much so that I think I'll be doing it this way more often.

After breakfast, I sat the kids down in the living room and read their history aloud, had a discussion about how Latin morphed into the Romance languages, which led into a discussion of how language is fluid and still changing today (consider all the new words in our language introduced by the computer age), which led to a discussion of how computers have changed over the last 30 years, leading to the tiny pen-shaped projection computers, still apparently in the conceptual stage. Then we listened to three chapters from the life of Saint Padre Pio. Then I listed the boys' lessons for the rest of the school day, and sent them off to complete everything.

It usually goes like this for Brian and Conor: a few math problems, then play for 20 minutes with the twins, because they are too adorable to resist. Then some screaming at Clare or Theresa for trying to sneak into their room. Mom comes up and yells, or lectures about being charitable or tolerant. Then maybe a page of cursive practice, followed by sneaking away to the rec room (when my back is turned) for some Game Cube. Then they either get busted for disappearing and not finishing their work, or they decide they're hungry and come downstairs in a thundering stampede in search of food. Or they need me to help them but I get a phone call, and while I'm busy they disappear outside to hide their weapon caches or pretend to be snipers (yeah, Brian, I'm talking about YOU). Then they'll read the next science concept in their book, but suddenly remember they have to get their football stuff ready THAT. VERY. MINUTE. It can be exhausting for me.

Clare and Theresa also have schoolwork they can do independently, but they need my help for a lot of it. So when I'm busy with the boys, they usually play on their own or with the twins, or mope around, whining about how they have nothing to do and I never do school with them.

In the meantime, the twins are either playing happily, or stealthily searching for contraband gum, or drawing on walls, or begging to watch Blue's Clues, or hopping around grabbing their privates with worried expressions on their faces, which causes me to drop everything and hustle them to the bathroom.

So far today we haven't had one puddle on the floor - Natalie tinkled on the toilet at least four times, and Noelle twice. That seems fairly consistent; historically, Natalie always had the monstrously-soaked diapers hanging between her knees, but Noelle just doesn't seem to go as much. I bought mini packs of M&Ms as potty treats, so after every tinkle they get a coveted treat. The older kids are even coming to me now and then and saying, "Mommy, I went on the potty! Do I get a treat???" Yeah, nice try.

The afternoon went fairly quickly - the girls got into a set of blocks that are only supposed to be used for math lessons. I prepared a quick dinner of ground beef, diced potatoes and taco seasoning, served in warmed flour tortillas. (Again with the tortillas! We're not even remotely Mexican. We just like tortillas) It's a fairly nice day, albeit cool, so they ran around outside for a while before the boys left for football and it got too dark.

The rest of my day will probably be spent tidying up, and then the bedtime festivities will commence. Then if I'm not too tired, I might watch a program on the computer or read a bit before I go to sleep. That's one of the drawbacks of homeschooling - while most other kids are gone from the house all day, mine are around to make messes. And while some of them are making messes, I'm too busy doing school with others to stop and clean it up. So the end of our school day is when I have to deal with everything that I let slide earlier. Sigh. This is not to say that my kids don't do anything (although my husband would disagree with me here). It's just that the little ones make most of the mess, and nobody thinks it's "fair" to continually clean up other people's messes. Myself included. I do assign them tasks, but most of the time sometimes it's just easier to do it myself.

Okay, there was an original purpose to the post, but it took on a life of its own and spun out of control. Here's what I originally intended to say:

At some point in mid-afternoon, I realized that Natalie was nowhere to be found. That can be a bad thing, because she is a consummate wall-drawer, and also likes to use scissors. NOT a good thing. Noelle found her, asleep in their bedroom. Apparently, Natalie decided she needed a nap, and tucked herself in ( one of my favorite things about her is that she acknowledges her need for SLEEP! She never fights me at bedtime).

Okay, back to the story - So Brian asks Noelle why Natalie is in bed, and Noelle answers, completely spontaneously, "I killed Nanny with this thumb!" I know it sounds gruesome, but it's a line from the animated flick Ratatouille. And it was hilarious.

Nanny sleeping. Note the scribbles on the wall behind her.

Noelle and the Lethal Thumb

The Confession

More Evidence

I've not been blogging much lately, because I didn't feel I had anything to share.

Guess that's over.

Potty Training, Take 7 & 8 - Roll 'Em!

I don't mind babies in diapers, and I appreciate when kids are toilet trained. It's just those few, in-between weeks, when the child is deciding between the two, that drive me to the brink.

And that's where we are now.

Usually I follow a child-led program when it comes to solids, weaning, toilet-training, reading readiness, etc. A select few of our children were toilet-trained right around age two, but most of them were beyond their third birthday before they showed signs of giving up the diapers.

Let me just say here that my husband and I feel there is something fundamentally wrong with changing a 3yo's diaper. Infant diapers? No problem. 1yo? Not so bad. But once a kid gets past the second birthday, what comes out of them is essentially the same as what comes out of me, and it isn't cute anymore. I don't want to deal with that. Eww.

Having said all that, I didn't really mind that the twins were still in diapers. I was prepared to wait until they were ready. And then my cousin Jennifer came from Texas to visit, with her husband and six children. Their youngest had just turned two, and she waltzed right in, climbed up on the toilet, did her business and scampered away. I was REALLY impressed, and so were the twins. Since their visit in August, the twins have been talking about Sophia and how she went on the toilet. Once I saw how easy she made it look, it was hard to keep changing diapers cheerfully.

Then there was Natalie's frustrating habit of pulling all the diaper wipes out of the box every time she gets her hands on one. I wouldn't mind if they just got dried out, because they'd just need a splash of water. No - that would be too easy. Instead they have to make it so that the wipes are unusable - getting them just dirty enough with dust, marker, bark, etc. - so that I can't use them in on their butts in good conscience.

But I think what really put me over the edge was that we always seem to be running out of diapers. At this stage in the game I'm not going to buy the size 6 Super Ultra Mega Pack, because they could decide to toilet-train at any moment. Then we'll be stuck with a mountain of diapers that cost a quarter apiece, and I'll have to give them away. So instead we've been buying the single packs, and we are continually "down to the last diaper." Andy kept saying that we just shouldn't buy the next pack, and force them to toilet train.

I don't know exactly what happened on Monday, but something in me just snapped, and I had a showdown with Natalie. I told her that no longer could she draw or paint or have sips of my coffee, because that was for big girls, and only babies used diapers. I took her into the bathroom and I tried everything. Letting the water trickle in the sink. Giving her frequent drinks. Letting her play in warm water. Reading stories. She refused to try to tinkle, and sat on the potty for an hour with a melancholy, downtrodden look of pity on her face. I don't know if the pity was for herself, for having to sit there so long, or for me, because she felt so sorry for me in my stubborn self-delusion. ("Mom, mom, mom...tsk tsk... as if I'm EVER going to pee on this thing. You poor, misguided woman!")

She absolutely loathes the cold, prickly, wet feeling when she has an "accident," and I think that was the problem on Day 1. She kept asking for a diaper whenever she felt the urge, and I flatly refused. I knew she had to go very badly, which is why I insisted she stay on the toilet for so long. Daddy got home and sent me packing defused the situation and let Natalie free, making her promise that she'd go to the bathroom when she felt "the urge." And surely enough, the next time he put her on the toilet, she tinkled, much to the surprise and delight of everybody! We cheered and danced and she proclaimed THE GOOD NEWS joyfully to everybody! And ever since she realized that she wouldn't have that cold, prickly, wet feeling, it's been easy.

The more optimistically foolish of her parents decided to let them sleep diaperless that first night, for fear of sending a mixed message, but Natalie's bed was soaked by morning. Not gonna do THAT again. So after washing and drying the bedding, I decided to explain to them that diapers are in case of an accident, but not to pee in them - just tell somebody and we'll take them to the bathroom.

Day Two. Natalie woke up dry, Noelle's diaper was wet. We put them in underwear and let them loose. Noelle puddled all day like an untrained puppy. Natalie, once she crossed yesterday's mental threshhold, made every single pee in the toilet that day. Both withheld bowel movements.

Day Three. Natalie again woke up dry. Noelle almost made it to the toilet in the morning. Hey, that's a start! Natalie again used the toilet every time, and even made a #2. Boy, there was much rejoicing after THAT one! I took them out (sans diapers) for ice cream cones to celebrate. I even took a picture of it {sicko freak} [ hey, she asked me to!] but my conscience later made me delete it. Noelle had her first tinkle success in the afternoon, and was accident-free for the rest of the day, but withheld her bowel movements. Again I put them in diapers for bedtime, and Natalie proclaimed, "Diapers are STINKY!"

Day Four (today). Natalie woke up dry and went right away. Noelle was dry when she woke, but again didn't get to the bathroom soon enough. However, both of them were diaperless and dry all day, and they even started taking themselves to the bathroom and climbing up. Natalie even wants to handle the TP. Noelle had two #2 successes, and we all went to the donut shop to celebrate. They were both in underwear all day and went on a 2-hr outing with me, and each used a restaurant toilet.

They both had so much sugar today in the form of potty treats that I'm going to be forced to find a different reward.

Now, at bedtime, Natalie is withholding a bm and crying about it. I keep reminding her that it doesn't hurt and she did it yesterday, but that's not helping. When potty-training, I get most frustrated by the fact that I CANNOT CONTROL WHAT THEY DO. And they know it. They are completely in the driver's seat. No matter how reasonable or positive or cajoling or patient or threatening I can be, they are the ones who ultimately decide, and quite frankly, that drives me up a wall.

I'll see you when I get down.

Ladybug Swarm

Here in Pennsylvania (for the last several years that I'm aware of) we've experienced an October ladybug infestation. Actually, I have just learned that they are not true ladybugs. Rather they are Multi-Colored Asian Lady Beetles, which were introduced into North America in the 90s for pest control.

Ladybug, Lady beetle.
Click on the picture for more information.

I won't bore you with the finer points of difference; instead you can read it for yourself if you are interested. Click HERE or HERE.

It usually happens during a warm spell after the first cold snap, which we are currently experiencing. A week of sunny days in the 60s after last week's snowfall. Today there was nowhere you could glance where you couldn't see dozens of them zipping through the air. Once we stepped outside, they were instantly flying right into our faces and ears. The white brick at the front of the house, warmed by the afternoon sun, was crawling with them. They covered the front door, and every time it opened, dozens of them would come inside. Even if we managed to keep them from coming in the open door, we'd still unwittingly bring them inside as they hitched a ride on our clothes and hair.

I have lost much of my squeamishness about bugs as I've "matured," and it's a darn good thing, because I can't tell you how many of them I had to catch and release. I don't like to kill them because they're harmless, and also because of the gross crackling sound they make. Also, I can't be squeamish when my husband isn't around, because now I must be The Brave One, The Vanquisher of Bugs and All Icky Things, so I can be Supermom for my crew of dependents.

As I type, there are scores of lady beetle sentinals lining every windowsill of the house. The light fixtures are also a huge attraction, and there are many little candy-dot-sized shadows in each light cover. I will be vacuuming up most of their dried-out carapaces in a few days, but it won't be a surprise if there are still a few left living in the dead of winter.


These pictures don't really do justice to the numbers of them, but I wasn't going to stay out there trying any longer with the little cretins flying into my ears. Yuck.







And finally, proof that what we are experiencing is absolutely piddling in comparison:

5D and EX1 Lady Bug Swarm from Michael Ramsey on Vimeo.

Memory Lane Monday

Clare loves holidays the most out of everybody in our family. In 2006 she had her heart set on having a Halloween party, but I didn't really want to do it. I thought it was lame, but I felt bad for her. So one weeknight, shortly before bedtime, we had a little family party. We had fresh-baked Pillsbury jack o'lantern cookies, played hot potato with a mini-pumpkin, and took turns bobbing for apples.

The whole thing didn't even take 45 minutes, almost pathetically short, but 3 years later they are still talking about that great Halloween party we had.

It makes me cry, how sometimes it's the smallest things that make them happy, but I didn't even want to take the time to do it.

Here's Scott, the oldest son, showing them how it's done.

Top 5 Things Every Parent of Multiples Needs

Multiples and More is conducting a poll about what parents of multiples most need.

These were my favorite gifts from our twin shower:

1. Diapers, diapers, and more diapers. We received so many diapers at our twins' shower that they filled up the crib to overflowing, and the entire space beneath the crib as well. People gave us size newborn up to size 2. We didn't have to buy a single diaper for at least 6 months. Throw in a few packages of wipes and a few tubes of diaper cream as well.

2. A baby backpack and front carrier. From the time they could hold their heads steady, whenever I went out solo I wore one on my back and one on my front. I would set up the backpack (with kickstand out) on a tabletop (or counter, or back floor of the van or suburban). I'd put the front baby on, then put the second baby in the backpack and put her on as well. They were both happy and both my hands were free.

3. Two bouncer seats. Indispensible. You have to be able to put them down SOMEWHERE, especially once they're big enough to want to see what's going on.

4. Adorable onesies that said, "I was here first" and "No, I was here first." In fact, I appreciated all the matching outfits that we received.

5. Crib sheets. You thought you had enough. You were wrong. My twins also loved the visually stimulating musical mobile I put over their crib (once they noticed it was there).

How to Tell When Your Baby is Ready for Solids

Theresa at 5 months

Memory Lane Monday

Today's memory is from 2003, when Conor turned 5. I'd been making special birthday cakes for several years at that point, so naturally I asked Conor how he wanted me to decorate his birthday cake. His response? He decided he wanted a "Darth Vader/Motorcycle Dude/Rock Star/Teenager With Spiky Hair" cake.

Tall order, but after much consideration, I pulled it off.



Here I am creating the masterpiece. Concocting all those colors of frosting was tedious, and I don't even want to remember the sugar buzz I had after sampling frosting for several hours.

Sarah & Grandparents

Sarah, with GrandDad (maternal grandfather) & Pat

Sarah with Busha (maternal grandmother)

Happy 6th Birthday Theresa

Exactly six years ago, we welcomed Theresa Marie into our arms. My blood pressure had been steadily climbing and I'd been swelling up for the last two months of the pregnancy, and when I went in for my 38 week checkup, the doctor said, rather brusquely, "She's 38 weeks. What are you waiting for? Take her upstairs and induce her!"

Although it wasn't quite as quick and easy as she made it sound, I stayed overnight, they started the induction process at 7 a.m. the next morning, and Theresa Marie slipped into the world at 1:00 p.m. on the second push.

Sarah was in the delivery room with us (for the second time,
the first being when Clare was born) and assisted in getting Theresa measured, bathed and dressed.

She was the earliest and tiniest of the babies up until then, weighing exactly 6 pounds.
She also may have been the easiest and most peaceful baby we've had. Unfortunately for us, she was also our earliest walker, at 10 months. She discovered and mastered the steps in one afternoon,and didn't give us much peace after that.

Here she is getting busted as she tries to sneak up the stairs.

1 year old

2 yrs old
(you would think we spend a lot of time at the beach. Not true - once a year, maybe...
but our beach trips usually coincide with her birthday)

3 yrs old, with her chicken birthday cake


4th birthday

5th birthday
6th birthday - her cake is decorated with a pumpkin because before she was born,
Conor said we ought to call her Pumpkin Pie

listening to her talking Hoops and YoYo card for the 10th time!!


she's been waiting to see this for a long time!

Check Out This Bad Boy

This big ugly is called a Hubbard Squash. It's bigger than my butt two basketballs and heavier than my twins.

I had the best pumpkin pie I've ever tasted last fall at the Warrior Run Heritage Festival, and was very surprised when they told me it wasn't pumpkin. I can't even describe how it was better. Just try it if you have the opportunity. Recipes are here or here.

Added bonus: the seeds are about four times bigger than pumpkin seeds and totally yummy. I roasted mine with salt and I can't stop eating them, but that's cool because pumpkin seeds are rich in MUFAS (monounsaturated fatty acids)!

Theresa, your birthday's coming up. We need to take a nice photo of you for the birthday page in the newspaper.
Your hair still looks so pretty from your haircut this afternoon; c'mon and I'll take your picture.


Don't tilt your head, honey. I need a straight-up picture.


Okay, I get it, you look cute. Stop tilting your head.


Very nice. I should submit THAT one to the newspaper. Oh, and there's a hair in your face.


Where did you get that? Put that down! Very funny. And that hair's still in your face.


This will do very nicely. Thank you.