Dawn of Dogwood Dale

I was rereading Anne of Green Gables this weekend for the first time since high school, and I remember how I loved her precocious spirit, her propensity for mishaps and her vivid imagination. Once upon a time, I liked to think that I could invent names as fantastic as "Dryad's Bubble," "The White Way of Delight" and "The Lake of Shining Waters." Plus, how awesome would it have been to live in a time when people still named their homesteads? Green Gables just sounded like the homiest, most romantic place imaginable! I also used to envy Anne her gorgeous Titian (red) hair. Even though she disliked it's "carrot" resemblance, I always thought red hair was beautiful (just like my Momma.) =) Unfortunately, it seems the only thing I currently have in common with Anne is her knack for careless cooking. What fan of Anne Shirley could forget the infamous layer cake she meticulously baked for Mrs. Allan, the pastor's wife, only to discover after the horrified reactions of her guests that she had flavored said cake with liniment oil instead of vanilla! Or how Anne unintentionally got her "bosom friend" Dianna Barry drunk on current wine instead of raspberry cordial, because she grabbed the wrong bottle off the pantry shelf!

In this respect, my likeness to Anne started early...either I was not yet a very proficient reader or I was just a thoughtless inhabitant of my own world...but I remember a time when I happily prepared myself what I thought was a bowl of cinnamon applesauce. Only after tasting my concoction did I realize I had actually covered my snack with paprika! It does NOT have the same result, and I do NOT recommend the combination. It's dreadfully awful! I was riddled with guilt over having to dispose of the entire bowl full. It seemed so wasteful! I also remember another guilt-inducing occasion when I rummaged through the refrigerator and took a big swig out of a green bottle which I wrongfully assumed was a soda of some kind, only to quickly discover after the first mouthful that it was NOT any soda I had ever tasted. (I can only assume it was an alcoholic beverage. Serves me right for drinking out of the bottle...and without asking!) I would like to think I had outgrown the tendency for such mishaps...but apparently not.

At the age of 30 I am still doing silly things. This morning I prepared a steak to marinate for dinner tonight. I laid it out in the pan, salt and peppered it and went to the refrigerator to grab the worchetshire sauce. Without looking at the bottle I proceeded to douse the steak with the brown liquid. Only after noting it's suspicious smell did I examine the label...thereby discovering that I had actually marinated our dinner with Soy Sauce, whose bottle was unfortunately close to the other on the refrigerator shelf. To what should we attribute my carelessness? We could be charitable and ascribe it to the mental to-do list over an arm's length constantly running through my head. Or is it just a natural inclination? Sigh...

Worse yet, I put it in the fridge anyway, hoping it would turn out alright and, perhaps, have a slight Asian flavor to it. After a half hour or so, I started to worriedly think better of it and, after consulting with my mother (the other redhead in my life), I decided to rinse the steak off and start over. So, there I was, rinsing the steak in the sink and hoping that the combination of all these competing and not-so compatible liquids would still result in an edible dinner tonight. It remains to be seen...

So if Anne Shirley can be Anne of Green Gables, I will indulge my fondness for romanticism and alliteration and will be Dawn of Dogwood Dale for the day, since I happen to have a particularly nice collection of dogwood trees scattered about my yard. And, hopefully, this will be my only mishap of the day and will have gotten it out of the way early. Hopefully...but not likely!

Riding in Cars with Boys

This is just a sampling of the discussions going on between my boys today:

Keller: "Don't mess with velociraptors. They'll eat you." (Sage advice indeed.)

Me: "So, where do you have chapel?" Declan: "We have it upstairs. It's upstairs because it's like we're rising up to heaven. It's good for praising God." (So the closer the better? I've heard that argument before, Babel.)

Declan: "I'm the fastest kid in my class." Keller: "Are you faster than [your teacher]?" Declan: "Well, yah, 'cause she's HUGE. She's like THIS big!" (arms extended) Me: "Declan, do you think those were kind words?" Declan: "Yah. I didn't say she was fat!"

Declan (to Keller): "If you want, I'll let you put my stinky socks in the laundry tonight..."

Someone could write a pretty funny screenplay with some of this stuff...Like "The Office," but in a family. The one liners are just priceless!

About a Boy

There's something special about a boy. Little boys in particular. They can simultaneously drive you crazy with their antics and make your heart leap with their smile. Life with a boy is an everyday roller coaster ride of adventure, and I was thinking about it this morning after another of McCrea's surprises. With two older brothers before him, I'm not really surprised anymore, so to speak, but I am sometimes amazed at the new heights of fun and mischief we can reach...

I was still taking care of the baby this morning while Mike brought the kids downstairs to start breakfast. About five minutes later I hear Mike exclaim, "McCrea, why are you naked?! Where's your diaper?" I wonder to myself how this went without notice. How tired must Mike have been to bring a half-naked baby downstairs without skipping a beat? =) (Another boy thing?) Anyway, he treks back upstairs to access the damage and announces on his return that McCrea must have removed his pajamas and diaper shortly after laying down the night before...and slept that way...the rest of the night. Oh joy! It's not yet 7 am but we've already got two loads of laundry to do. Life with a boy!



Which gets me thinking of all the other fun parts about life with a boy, like the ceaseless energy, fearlessness or the incessant curiosity...how he wants to be part of the family and insists on having his plate filled with everything his siblings have, only to eat less than half of it. Or how he loves hot dogs, grapes and bananas one day, while they are anathema the next! Or how he helped himself to a box of yogurt covered raisins this morning not ten minutes after breakfast was over. Have you ever seen a bottom-less pit? I have. I'll introduce you sometime.

Or how they always look like they've been in a cage fight. He currently has a constellation of bruises across his forehead, a black eye and two scratches to seal the deal. And it's not like he plans to slow down...he likes to stand on his toy motorcycle, climb on the table, walk down the stairs like a "big boy," fall off the couch (head first, of course) and yesterday I discovered him 3/4 of the way up the ladder into our over one-story high tree house after I'd turned my back briefly to chat with a neighbor! With a boy you pretty much reconcile yourself to never getting an unblemished photograph. There will always be battle scars. You can accept it as one of the marks of boyhood and cherish the memories they represent...or you can be prepared with a bottle of concealer (assuming they'd let you slather them up with it) and the money for touch-up fees. I tried it once. It wasn't worth the effort! =)



All the things that blow my mind, also make me stop and laugh. Like the way he climbs on me like a monkey to give a hug. Or how he tries so hard to help me clean up that I find things that AREN'T trash in the trash can...only to turn around and find him eating old cereal out of the pile I just swept. And the way he absolutely loves to brush his teeth. If I can't find him, he's probably in the bathroom, either playing with his tooth brush or flushing the potty. Just for fun, because he likes how it sounds, and he knows that "big boys" do it. (Of course, it's also possible that he will be playing IN the potty. It IS a very cool resevoir of water, you know...) But I also love how he gets insanely excited over balloons, sirens, tractors and fire. (Yes, fire. He's a boy remember.) He practically dances! Then there's the way he brings his baby sister her blanket and pacifier whenever he hears her cry, because he is already such a good big brother and loves her. It melts my heart!



Boys are so precious. They have the uncanny ability to wear you out...and make you love them for it. It's a virtually unexplainable contradiction. When you have one...then you'll understand. =)

Never a Dull Moment...

Over the weekend Mike sat down with the kids for a life sciences lesson. (Mike is really good about taking time to teach the kids about scientific principles through simple experiments, and they love it!) He was trying to teach them how to read and interpret a timeline. He read through some example scenarios and posed questions to the boys about where on the timeline each event might fall. They seemed to be following the concept. At one point, Mike gave the hypothetical example, "If Annie loses a tooth before her sixth birthday, where does it go?" Everyone thought for a minute and Keller piped up, "In her mouth!"

Yesterday afternoon the kids were particularly hyper. I was trying to feed the baby quickly so that we could get outside and run off some energy. It was a tough choice, mind you. I was tempted to stay inside, put on a movie, and get the dishes done. It would have been more satisfying for ME, anyway. They were chasing each other and doing laps around the house, with the occasional mishap and bought of fussing, which I tolerated with mild and mostly silent frustration. At one point, Declan got a little ambitious and announced that he'd discovered he could pick up McCrea (his 27 lb 21-month-old "little" brother)! He proceeded to carry McCrea back and forth across the living room multiple times, to McCrea's apparent delight. I then heard Keller call, "I can do it too!" To which Declan responded, "Not by the head!" Great. We are DEFINITELY going outside.

Finally, last night, I am again feeding the baby, and Mike is graciously herding the kids around the house as they get ready for bed. They need minimal direction at this point, a HUGE plus, and aside from McCrea, they are mostly self-sufficient. Mike sent them to brush their teeth and use the bathroom before heading upstairs. All normal pre-bedtime events...at some point he went into the bathroom to help McCrea, and I heard him call, "Who put toothpaste in the toilet?" Hmmm, this should be interesting. Declan immediately disavowed any involvement...leaving...of course, Keller. Keller said, "Well, I had too much on my tooth brush." "And how did it get in the toilet?" Mike asked. "Did you WIPE it on the toilet?" I can only assume there was an affirmative response, because Mike responded in somewhat horrified exasperation, "Keller, you NEVER put your toothbrush on the toilet!!" Ah...never a dull moment in our house!

Quotes of the Week

Declan: "Dreams are short stories...like riddles. Except you don't have to answer any questions."

Me: "Did you step on your sister?" Keller: "No, she ran into my foot."

Declan: "Mom, is there a way to have babies when you're not married?" Me: "Uhhhhhh..."

Declan: "I'm going to tie up your hands." Keller: "Well, I'm...I'm going to pee on you!" Declan: "No, you won't. You won't be able to get your pants down!"

Keller: "Mom, do we have the game CHEST?" Me: "Yes, Keller, we have chess."

Keller: "Did we pass the Instruction site?" Me: "It's CONstruction." Keller: "That's what I said!"

Welcome Kennedy Vale!

I'm 13 days late in posting this announcement but, all things considered, I've been a little busy! The week before our little girl made her appearance was a long and tiring one. I was SO ready for her arrival and, apparently, she felt the need to give me a little extra preparation (as if I needed it with four other children, right?). Almost every night for a week before her birth, I was up multiple times in the night for hours at a time with contractions. Sleep was definitely hard to come by! Her brothers and sister were all delivered early, but as each day passed, I wondered if she was just planning to take her time and really make an entrance as the last addition to our clan.

Finally, on Saturday, March 13, things seemed to be moving in the right direction. I'd been up since 2 a.m. with contractions that just wouldn't stay regular, but I couldn't sleep either! About 8 o'clock they started to pick up in intensity, which I thought was a good sign, but after so many false alarms, I was hesitant to get my hopes up and decided to go about our regular routine as long as possible. I figured, they'd either go away as the others had or they would get strong enough I couldn't ignore them, and we'd eventually know this was the real thing. So, we went on our scheduled Saturday morning grocery shopping excursion, all four kids in tow. They were coming about 5-6 minutes apart and strong enough that I had to stop pushing the shopping cart until they passed. At that point I decided to be efficient with my shopping. Mike teased that I had never gotten through the store that fast! =) Guess I didn't feel the need to browse!

By the time we got home at about 10:30, I decided to call the hospital. Considering the strength and regularity of the contractions and the fact that this was, after all, my fifth delivery, they told me to come in! Finally! Our neighbors kindly came over to stay with the kids while my mother started her 2.5 hour drive up to our house. We got to the hospital at about 11:30, and the nurse put me on the monitor to see how things were progressing. It looked like we were in labor, but they decided to "let" me walk for an hour to really get things moving before I was admitted (oh joy!).

Those nurses didn't know who they were talking to though...because I speed-walked up and down that hallway for the entire hour. They were a little taken aback! I wondered to Mike what they expected, and he figured most laboring women weren't "waddling" nearly so fast. But, hey, if I'm going to walk, I'm going to make it effective! We were finally admitted and got things rolling at about 1:15 p.m.

Things went pretty quickly after that...in spite of a few glitches, like an epidural that functioned at about 50 percent (I know, because I've had a good one before. This didn't even take the edge off the contractions, only shortened them a little. Although I suppose that was better than nothing!) and some oxygen and a shot of ephedrine when my BP dipped too low. But, after those took effect, we were able to greet our precious little lamb at 4:17 pm after one contraction/push, and she was beautiful!



Kennedy Vale weighed 6 lbs 11 oz and measured 19 3/4 inches! She was a hungry little girl from the start, which has paid big dividends. She left the hospital at 6 lbs 4 oz, but only two days later, at four days old, she was back up to her birth weight! And at her first check up, at 10 days old, she weighed in at a whopping 7 lbs 2 oz! Kennedy is growing like a little weed and is so precious! Her brothers and sister are all adjusting to her presence in their own way, but she is already a sweet addition to our family.



McCrea is very interested in her and loves to check on her. I've caught the little leprechaun in her room numerous times, keeping her from napping...though it's hard to get too upset, because he's just so sweet. Anytime she fusses he runs to find her special blanket and bring it to her and, at 21 months, he's already a huge help. He makes regular runs to the trash can for me to deposit all the diapers we're going through! Brynnley is equally interested and is constantly informing me, "Momma, your baby is crying" or "Momma, your baby needs something!" As for the big brothers, Declan and Keller, they are doing their own thing for the most part, which is just fine. Keller did ask once, "Why is she crying so much?" And Declan grudgingly admitted, "She is pretty cute!"




We definitely agree and are so blessed to welcome Kennedy Vale into our family. We hope she will be proud of her Irish heritage, from which "Kennedy" derives its origin, and that she will grow into a young woman who holds fast to the hopes and promises inherent in her given name. In as much as Kennedy means "armored," we pray that she will heed the admonition in Ephesians 6:10-18 to "put on the full armor of God" and stand firm in her own faith, being "strong in the Lord and in his mighty power," just as Vale, of Latin origin, means strong.

Thanks to everyone for your encouragement and prayers! Please continue to lift up our family as a whole and this new little one in particular. We will be often busy, often overwhelmed and often in need of grace...especially as more crazy feats, humorous sayings, unforgettable memories and challenging moments are bound to come...!

Trendsetter

On the way to school this morning, Keller nonchalantly announced, "When I grow up, I'm going to be a bat." I found this amusing and just kept my listening ears open for the rest of the conversation. Declan replied, "You can't be a bat. People can't change into animals." (Obviously!) "Unless God wants you to, of course." Of course. Why didn't I think of that? Keller responded condescendingly, "I'll just wear all black." (Why not? That's what Batman did!)

When we got home, Keller took off one shoe and one shoe only. He's been doing this lately. I'll find the lone shoe under the table or lying askew in the entryway. He runs around, happy as a clam and completely oblivious, one foot properly shoed and the other just...socked. I have no idea what he's doing or, rather, what's going through his little mind. The other day I looked at him and said, "Keller, what are you doing?" He looked at me innocently and said, "What?" As if he really had no idea what I meant! So I've just chalked this up to his quirky personality. No harm done, right? Then today I walked into the playroom and saw Keller and my daughter, Brynnley, sitting contentedly at the puzzle table, BOTH one-shoed. "Brynnley, why are you only wearing one shoe?" I asked. "Because Keller's only wearing one shoe," she replied, as if it ought to be obvious.

This is an unpleasant development! I have a mischievous trendsetter and, apparently, a little follower. Who knows what he'll come up with next? Who knows when he will choose to wield his power!? Like the vicious trendsetter who decided that leggings could be worn by people not performing in the movie Flashdance...or the hairstylist who decided that mullets sported by the likes of Billy Ray Cyrus and Michael Bolton could and should be worn by the mainstream public (unless, of course, you are MacGyver, the lone, legitimate exception, because you rocked the mullet!)...or the evil man (you know who you are, Ashton Kutcher) who decided that trucker's hats should be worn by people not driving semis. Droplet examples in the water bucket of trends that never should have started...or caught on...and I have the makings of it in my own house! The brain and the perpetuator! Woe to the children of the next decade!!

Maybe it will be something simple and not too scary for Mom. Maybe, as he suggested, he'll just wear all black. =) I could handle that. Everyone else would think he was trying to adapt the Goth look of the 90s or the Emo look of the Oughts...but I'd know it was even better, and simpler, than that...he's a bat!!