BD's 15th Birthday

BD and his ukelele. BFFs.

Eclair Cake. Light, fluffy pudding goodness. More about this tomorrow.

Lots of helpers to blow out the candles, but he's a good sport about it.

Sweet Potatoes Come Back Out.

Ice cream doesn't.

 

1.  That looks AMAZING.  I must have some!
2.  Nom nom nom.
3.  Bring on the next bite!
 

Aikido Kai

For the past six months, the kids have been attending a martial arts self-defense class called aikido.  So far it's all been about being able to get your attacker off balance, and how to fall safely.  The sensei is an incredibly limber man in his 60s who falls down (and gets back up) about a hundred times in each class.   If I fell down even once, it would be all over for me.

Anyway, one snowy Saturday morning, my kids were the only ones to make it to class.  I had intended for the twins to sit on the sidelines with me, but Sensei invited them onto the mats.  They did okay, though a little bit rambunctious.  I was surprised when, the next week, he asked why they weren't at class.  I thought they were too young, but as long as he didn't think they were a disruption, I was willing to try.

They have gone to class for the past two weeks.  Natalie surprised me; I expected her to be either bored or too timid,  but she participated and paid attention the whole time.  Noelle, not so much.  If she makes it for half the class, it's a good day.

I love how Natalie's peeking at the camera here.

We had a parade in our town recently, and the aikido dojo marched along in it. That's Brian in the purple, and Theresa's the blondie holding the sign. Clare is behind her.

Clare & Conor

Boats & Birds - Gregory and the Hawk

I don't know what this song is really written about, but I can't think of a more fitting (and touching) song for the mother-child relationship. I can't hear this song without tearing up.

If you'll be my star
I'll be your sky
You can hide underneath me and come out at night
When I turn jet black and you show off your light
I live to let you shine
I live to let you shine

And you can sky-rocket away from me
And never come back if you find another galaxy
Far from here with more room to fly
Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

If you be my boat
I'll be your sea
The depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity
Ebbing and flowing and pushed by a breeze
I live to make you free
I live to make you free

But you can set sail to the west if you want to
And past the horizon till I can't even see you
Far from here where the beaches are wide
Just leave me your wake to remember you by

The Legacy Lives On

Almost five years ago, some generous and loving friends and relatives gathered together to shower us with baby gifts as we awaited the birth of our twins, even though these were babies #7 and #8.  We received some extra baby equipment, many adorable matching outfits, enough diapers in various sizes to last us an entire year (no exaggeration), and some generous monetary gifts.

During the last trimester, I was overcome by fatigue while browsing in a department store with the kids.  I felt like I just couldn't walk another step, and Clare and Theresa, who were 3 and 5, were getting restless.  So I headed to a niche in the store where they keep their clearance furniture.  It is a room lined with wall-to-wall couches and chairs, and it's fairly private.  I knew I could rest there a spell in relative privacy while the kids safely romped off some of their energy.

As we entered the room, there it was - sitting across the room, directly in front of me, as if it had known I was coming.  As if it had been waiting for me.  A double-wide oak glider rocker.  Feeling as bulky as a sumo wrestler at the time, I was immediately drawn to it.  This chair just spoke to me.  It was large enough to fit me, my twin belly, and a child on each side.  I could see myself reading to the girls.  I pictured myself rocking (and nursing) both twins at once.    It was a handsome chair; my husband would be proud to rock his babies in it. 

There was no other choice to make.  I would use our baby shower money to invest in this piece of furniture, which would surely pay off in dividends of memories and love.

I was not mistaken; the chair is still a favorite.  It started out in our bedroom, did a stint in the living room (until the kids leaned on the arms too much and loosened the spindles), then reclaimed its place in our bedroom.  It creaks more than it used to, and has been fortified with Mighty Putty more than once, thanks to the way the kids use it as a recliner instead of a rocker.  I'm pleased to say that it isn't even covered in laundry too often.  I nurse the baby in it almost every day, several of us sit there to read, and it is ready for us to sit in it at almost any moment.

Unless Mittens the Kitten is around.

 

My chair.  Go away.