Rant

Okay, I know it's been over three years. I know I should just let it go already. But every time I shave my legs, I can't help thinking about this one lady and this snotty thing she said to me.

Let me set the scene for you: It is late December, the time when most real women I know shave their legs only when necessary, and until the arrival of spring, the leg hair is usually well hidden under fuzzy socks and long pants.

NOW, imagine me eight-and-a-half months pregnant. THEN, realize that I'm eight-and-a-half months pregnant with TWINS. This brings the question of leg hair into perfect focus. I can barely reach my knees. Indigestion is ever-present. Breathing is even difficult. On top of all of that, I have bronchitis. Sex life is at a grinding halt. Leg hair is a non-issue.

Two a.m. December 26th, just a few hours after going to bed on Christmas night, my water breaks during a coughing fit. The hospital says to be there at seven a.m. to prep for a nine o'clock cesearean. I decide to take a shower while waiting for dawn, and in a heroic effort, I even decide to shave my legs, since so many people are going to be seeing them in just a few short hours.

It's the first surgery of my life, I'm preparing to welcome twins into the world and praying that everything goes smoothly. I am understandably anxious as I climb up onto the operating table. In fact, I am nearly numb with fear and anxiety and disbelief that this is really happening to me. But I am bravely trying to joke and make nervous small talk with the nurses. Since it's such a momentous occasion, I say, I even shaved my legs! And the snotty little size ten in the designer scrubs points to the outside of my right knee and, with a smirk, says, "You missed a spot."

I was too nervous and afraid at the time to be able to react with the proper indignation. I mean, seriously? How shallow can someone be? What was the purpose of such a snide remark at such a sensitive moment? I don't think I said anything at the time, but I feel certain God wouldn't have been minded if I had kicked her right in the chest.

Rant over. I feel a little better now.

Easter Weekend

We enjoyed a wonderfully sunny, beautifully warm Easter weekend, celebrating the Resurrection AND Sarah's birthday, and visiting with family and friends.

Their cousins brought their bikes, and they all tore up the sidewalk.

Noelle and Natalie are just learning to use the pedals, instead of scooting with their feet.

"C'mon, sister! What are you waiting for?!"



Noelle, Natalie & Michael exploring in Pap Pap's garden.


Adele and Conor


Clare


Anna & Adele


Colleen & Scott


Andy, bringing the forgotten birthday cake


Uncle Mike thought the cake was a platter of brownies, and nibbled off part of the crust before we could sing "Happy Birthday!" LOL

The guilty party and the birthday girl






The lineup - Noelle(3), Natalie(3), Michael(4), Theresa(6), Clare(8), Anna(8), Conor(11), Adele(11), and Brian(13), representing nine of the fifteen Stefo grandchildren.



Our much-delayed and long-awaited family portrait, courtesy of Aunt Michele
(traditionally taken at Christmas, but hey, whatever works)

The Many Coifs of Sarah

Our oldest daughter, Sarah, started out in life with a small fringe of dark hair.



As a toddler, it started coming in as a wispy, sunshiny blonde.

As she grew, it steadily darkened.




By age 14, you could still call her blonde, although it was a dark honey blonde by that point. But you would have been equally correct to call it light brown.


That, however, was also the year she discovered hair dye.

At age 15, she came home one day and stayed mainly in the shadows. This was because, as we were soon to learn, she was no longer a blonde. I can't remember if it was chestnut, or magenta, or somewhere in between. That was also about the time she eschewed long hair, permanently.

Her days as a blonde are part of history now.
She has been sporting a patch of bleached platinum hair on the right side of her head for at least three years.


She's been favoring the darker colors lately. In fact, she came home for Easter weekend with jet black hair.

These days, we never know what she's going to come home looking like.

I am still learning to pick my battles when it comes to raising children. When it comes to appearance, the boys aren't allowed to have mohawks, or color their hair, or let it grow unkempt. We are strongly against body ink and piercings, except for one on the girls' earlobes. However, I gave in long ago on the hair issue, at least where Sarah is concerned. Changing her hair (within reason) doesn't really hurt anyone (except her poor hair).


Today, our first baby, the one that turned us into a family, celebrates her nineteenth birthday. She was our honeymoon baby, born eight months and 27 days after our wedding. She's been with us for the entire wild ride, hopefully none the worse for wear. When I look into her face, I can't even see a shred of the child she used to be. But I am as proud to call her my daughter today as I was on the day we welcomed her into the world.

Happenings

Spring has arrived and the tulips, crocuses, daffodils, and hyacinths are almost ready to bloom! It's not quite time to plant, though, because we're supposed to get sub-freezing temperatures and some snow this weekend.

Brian is competing in the swimming league championships on Saturday. His events are the 200 Freestyle, the 100 Freestyle, and the 50 Backstroke.

The black bear is back in the neighborhood, and the twins just learned how to pedal their barbie trikes instead of scooting around with their feet on the ground.

Clare's Easter dress...Theresa got one exactly like it, and the twins also got matching yellow dresses. Clare also got a pair of grown-up "high heels" to go with it. We're talking about the big time here!

A recent picture of our "identical" twin girls. Sometimes I think the resemblance is uncanny, other times I can't see one at all.

Last weekend was our high school production of Godspell. Guess who had the leading role?

I tried to put up a video clip that's fairly dreadful (since my 11yos was the videographer), but blogger was having technical difficulties. Maybe tomorrow. But you get the idea. It's a high school play; what do you expect? The cast performed with incredible energy and enthusiasm. Some or all of us were in attendance for all three performances. I was so proud of them all!

Scott & Mom

Scott & Busha

So, other than the play, there hasn't been much going on, and it's been pretty boring as well.

Is it any wonder why I don't post much?

There Were Four In The Bed, And The Little One Said....

The twins have ending up in my bed every night for the past eternity several days, and as much as I love snuggling with them, it's getting old. Even if they don't begin the night in our room, you can count on usually one, probably both of them thundering up the stairs in the wee hours, howling vociferously. It's come to the point where bedtime is so painful for me that I just let them begin the night in my bed and save us all a lot of trouble, especially when the other half is on night shift and it's just me, dealing with all of them.

But tonight I just didn't feel like it, so I sent them to their beds. They stumped to my room once to tell me they had to go pee, and were indignant when I told them they had to go back to their own room! But ousted they were, and I didn't hear another peep.

Naturally I assumed they had fallen asleep, but when I checked in later on, their beds were empty. And in the next room, this is what I found:


This is a single bed, by the way.