Epic Fail

I'm sad tonight. I don't know why. And as it often happens, when I'm sad, I tend to dredge up bad memories and dwell on them. The bigger my share of guilt, all the better. Here's tonight's:

Let me clarify something first, because this is the reason that everything went bad on this particular night. The older my children get, the less tolerant they become with the younger ones. It doesn't matter what kind of little angels or terrors the first two were. In their memories, they were perfect children, and since then, I have given birth to a bunch of unsocialized hooligans. The older ones judge the younger ones by a yardstick that is too grown-up, and naturally the little ones are always found wanting. The older ones don't want to let the younger ones act like children.

To me, their censure of the younger children's behavior is completely intolerant and uncharitable, and by extension, they are also judging me as a parent. I am extremely sensitive to their criticism of their younger siblings, because I feel it's really me they're criticizing. At any rate, this sensitivity plays a major role in my choices.


It's almost been a year since Sarah, our firstborn, graduated from high school. The graduation ceremony was packed, as usual, but an entire row of seats was reserved for both sets of grandparents and our large family. The twins were 2 and Theresa was 5. Some might argue that they were a little young to be quiet for that long. I didn't think they were bad during the ceremony, although about halfway through they started to get antsy and got out of their seats and down on the floor.

The problem was that the videographer was sitting near our row. Scott, the oldest son, was getting very agitated because the kids were making noise near the videographer, and though I kept them as quiet as possible, I was becoming defensive about it.

After the ceremony, when my daughter, the graduate, made her way back in for pictures with us, first she demonstrated impatience when asked to pose for a picture with one of her grandparents. Granted, this grandparent can be demanding, but it's a once-in-a-lifetime event and pictures meant a great deal. A little forebearance was in order for the occasion, and I felt her impatience was quite selfish and immature. It wasn't as if every single one of her classmates wasn't also posing with family at that exact moment.

Then she made a bitter remark to me about "how bad" the kids were. Okay, I thought. She doesn't want to bother taking pictures with us, and the younger children are an embarrassment. I gathered up my dignity and my hooligans and quietly shepherded them out to the van. I didn't do it in a huff, I didn't do it for spite, or to hurt anyone. I just didn't want to stay where they were not, and by extension, I was not wanted. My eyes were full of tears and my feelings were wounded, but not for a moment did I do it with an "I'll-show-her" spirit. I really thought she didn't want them around, and guess what? Where they go, I go. They're so little, that's just how it has to be.

It took us a while to get across the parking lot, and I became aware that people were asking where Sarah was. I just figured she was taking pictures with friends, and I headed home. We had food prepared because we were expecting people to come by after graduation, and I wanted to get things ready.

It was a good hour later that I found out what happened. Sarah had disappeared, not with friends, but into the band room, crying because I left her graduation. She didn't get any pictures with any friends. We didn't have a party at our house. She just came home alone and cried some more.

And there was nothing I could say to make it better. I ruined her graduation night.

I have had some glaring moments of parenting failure, but this one stands out below the rest, at least so far. We haven't talked about it all in the year since. I'm actually hoping that somehow it will magically disappear from the family annals. I don't have a single picture of her high school graduation. I will never be able to make her see how sorry I am, and I will probably cry every time I think of that night for the rest of my life.

Fast Track to Salmonellosis

Six chicks joined our entourage during Easter week. They were NOT an impulsive Easter gift; in fact, we've been planning for a long time to get some laying hens. This was just my way of forcing my husband's hand.

Three are White Leghorns, three are Golden Comets.

They were cute and fluffy for a while.

Now they're gangly, scrawny, half-grown chickens.

You're not pretty.

Well, you're kind of pretty.

Mom, can I hold my chick?   You've gotta catch it first.

You can't hide in there forever, you know...

Oh, yes we can...

Dozing in the sunshine

Okay, now this is just ridiculous...

The Motherlode

The twins love anything pointy. They play with carrots. They play with pencils. They steal all the toothbrushes from the bathroom, and we find them days later behind couches and under chair cushions. The forks from our silverware drawer have a nasty habit of disappearing.

Saturday we had a party at our house. I usually don't keep paper plates or plastic utensils in the house, because the kids will waste them (nah, not MY kids) use them liberally, but this time I was so busy I just couldn't face three dishwasher loads of dirty dishes.

Result: I bought piles of paper products and a mega pack of heavy duty plastic flatware.

Flash forward to Sunday afternoon. I am still dealing with the aftermath of the party. I thought the twins were watching a video, but when I walked into the living room, I found this instead. Busted!

Noelle gets the spoons, Natalie gets the forks.

And by the way, I hadn't gotten around to vacuuming the carpet yet. Don't judge.

On Location

Looking through my list of blog posts, there were several in there that I had drafted but never published. Back in the first week of November, we took a trip to the Florida panhandle, escaping the onset of winter for one golden week. We had the beach and the gulf to ourselves.

Total freedom
Bonfire on the beach - one of my husband's longtime dreams
My sons re-enacted the Normandy invasion. It was fine until I fell into a shell hole.

Theresa
Natalie's favorite pastime: covering herself with wet drizzled sand



The twins received more baths in one week than in their entire lifetimes combined.
Cable tv - the highlight of any respectable beach house.


Seriously, are there really people who would take their chances in there?!?!?


Noelle


Clare & Noelle


Conor & Natalie



One of the many glorious sunsets

Horseback riding on the beach (no, that is not me)

Kayaking in the gulf

We discovered it was less expensive to buy fishing gear than to rent it.


At first we didn't have any luck. Conor was actually the first one to catch anything.


Brian finally succeeded in snagging a whiting, although he didn't get any keepers. Oh well.
Life is good, anyway.








Peace.


And finally... I know that the ocean is full of living things. It's just that at the NJ shore, where we usually go, the extent of wildlife is the hordes of noisy gulls and the occasional dead horseshoe crab. Wading in the gulf with real. actual. live. fish. and real. actual. live. crabs was an indescribable wonder for me. Once I learned what to look for, the crabs were everywhere. Our mission (well, mine, anyway) became to gather as many of the crabs as possible.
Witness the fruits:

February - better late than never.

February was kind of a slow month for blogging. I was mainly focused on our homeschooling, since the school year will be over before I know it. But here and there were moments I want to remember and share, so here goes:


In February:

My dear husband turned 42.
He had so many "helpers" that he didn't even get to lay a puff on the candles. They were out before he could even open his eyes from the birthday wish.
The kids pooled their money to buy a heavy-duty pair of gloves for the woodstove, so Dad could stop singeing off his wrist hair.


We celebrated his birthday by going to dinner, alone. It was our only night to be fancy!

Love you, honey!


Our parish started a terrific Catholic Bible study this month, on Saturday afternoons. One of the Saturdays I was in a jam, and asked Scott to babysit his little sisters while I was out. When I returned, all was well, and I walked into the dining room to see this:


It may not look like much, but what you're seeing here is inconceivably rare: my three sons, Scott, Brian, and Conor, playing rummy together. This is the first time the three of them have done anything like this together since they were all tiny. I nearly fell over when I walked in the room, but it was such a pleasant shock! Scott's been spending a lot more time at home since he hasn't been allowed to drive, which is another story for another time. He's going stir crazy, but has been spending more time, and nicer time, with all of us as a result.


Clare is more of an avid reader than ever, and I am impressed by her reading skills. She is so excited about the book she's currently reading. It's called A Child's Geography of the World, and she is handling it admirably. She's so pumped because there are over 400 pages and about 80 chapters, and she just. can't. believe. that she's reading it!!!


What else happened?

I started to learn how to knit.

My sewing machine is finally out, up, and running again for the first time in over two years.

My "loose" pants, from last summer's weight loss, aren't loose anymore. :(

Noelle learned how to hop up on the toilet herself (instead of crying for me to lift her on) and taught Natalie how to do the same. Score! Fist pump!

We took the kids bowling, twice in the past week. And the entire right side of my body is aching and protesting at every movement. Who knew bowling was so strenuous? Conor was so good at Wii Bowling that he thought he'd be awesome at the real thing. Guess what happened? He wasn't, and he was quite upset about it. But the second time we went, he even got a strike, and it wasn't a lucky accident. Brian wasn't too bad the first time out, but the second time out he learned how to hold his arm the right way, and improved dramatically in a few minutes. Natalie is probably the funniest. The ball weighs half of what she does, and yet she insists on using her tiny fingers in the holes to hold the ball in precisely the correct way. I will have to get pictures next time!