Now we are five.

Watching with the Eye of a Grown Up.

2012-02-01T14:00:00.003-05:00

Recently I stumbled across the movie Legends of the Fall, starring Brad Pitt, Aidan Quinn (before anyone was named Aidan), and Anthony Hopkins, released in 1994. It was playing on Bravo, and I was interested to watch a little of it since I hadn't seen it in literally decades. When it came out, I was completely mesmerized by it: the hotness of the three sons, the sprawling ranch they lived on out west, the gorgeous music in the movie, and the idea of love gone awry, and the romantic tragedy of falling in love with the wrong brother.

Well, now I'm way past that star struck teenager, and it looks totally different as an adult.

Sure, the music and settings are the same; Brad is still gorgeous beyond belief; the name Tristan is still as exotic and romantic to me now as it was then; and the period touches are still fun to note.

But, my goodness, it is pretty cheesy.

The funny thing is that Michaela and Jenna happened to wander into the room when I was floating down memory lane watching this movie and they were COMPLETELY TRANSFIXED by it. Completely. Made me DVR it because we had to leave for some reason or another and couldn't watch the last 45 minutes. They loved it.

For those of you who need reminding, it is the story of three brothers, Alfred, Tristan and Samuel, all bonded to each other and their colonel father, and Samuel returns home from college with a fiance played by a radiant Julia Ormond. (Really- you can practically see the soft focus halo all around her. She's gorgeous.) It is clear when Edward and his girl, Susannah, arrive home that she is falling hard for Tristan, and that both he and Alfred have the hots for her. Tristan and Edward go off to fight in WWI, Edward is killed and Tristan blames himself. He returns home from fighting and is crushed in every way, yet does help himself to Susanna. They hook up, Susannah falls madly in love with him, but Tristan clearly has some PTSD issues going on and goes off to find himself. Susannah, who has been staying at the ranch this whole time, stays behind and promises to wait for Tristan to come back. Tristan sends her a letter home saying (very dramatically), "What we had is dead, as I am dead. Marry another." A broken Susannah is again rescued by big brother Alfred, who she marries and settles down with but is unable to have children. Tristan eventually returns, healthy and GORGEOUS, and marries the ranch hand's daughter and immediately has a few kids. Susannah is clearly still in love with Tristan and swoons any time she sees him. I am not terribly familiar with the whole ending as I haven't gotten that far, but you get the gist.

Oh, if I could talk as a grown woman to that Susanna! She seemed like such a heroine when I was a teenager, and now I see her as so weak willed and only gathering worth from who loves her. She basically destroyed the entire family and wreaked havoc on the relationships between the brothers. She was always drawn to the bad boy, the one who got away, and settled, instead of fully moving forward. Get off that ranch! I want to yell at her. Go seek your own dreams! Leave this situation behind! Don't think you can tame this wild boy... you are not what he really wants.

It is so interesting to see how something in the sweeping romance of the movie really strikes a chord with my girls just as it did with me all those years ago. Falling in love. The bonds of family. The heart being broken and fixed again. The pull of wanting what you cannot have. And of course, one thing remains untouched by time: Brad Pitt is super hot. Doesn't matter how old you are.

Alec's Latest Obsession.

2012-01-27T13:04:00.001-05:00

And it's a strange one, one that begs to to be chronicled in the blog forever.

He loves playing with my iPhone, and while at first I was super strict about him NOT using it, I have fallen into the trap that every parent who has an iPhone and a kid under five has also fallen into: KIDS LOVE iPHONES. And it keeps them entertained and still and quiet for juuuust enough time to get something accomplished. Not a big thing, but something. Like posting on their blog.

I have a YouTube app on my phone and when you touch it, it automatically loads a short video that was linked to an email my brother sent out from his church. It's a great video with two guys talking about going to a candlelight church service and what it means. It's funny and real and effective. But that's not what he loves.

Linked to this video (I'm assuming one of the suggested videos on the right hand side) is the new object of his affection: a video posted by some southern evangelical-y church inviting the masses to its Christmas Services. It starts out with a nice, hearty, "Hello, everybody! We welcome you with open arms to Redeemer Baptist Church!" and then the wife chimes in with her silky Southern drawl, "... we are offering three services this Christmas Eve, at 2, 4, and 7 pm..." and that's as far as I've heard before Alec starts the whole thing over and I hear "Hello, everybody!" all over again. Sometimes Alec starts it over three or four times in a row, so it sounds a little like some kind of bizarre DJ remix: "Hello, every-Hello, every-Hello, everybody!"

But that's the power of the Holy Spirit combined with modern technology... and a two year old: I, a housewife in upstate New York, have the Christmas service times memorized for a Southern Baptist church that I've never ever heard of. I think God has the most wonderful sense of humor.

January Bits 'n' Pieces.

2012-01-25T14:16:00.001-05:00

Here's the latest from Libutti Land:

Michaela... has a new "boyfriend" at school named Matt, whom she has pined after since she arrived at Eagle... tonight is her Winter Concert at school for choir... is doing the school's Lip Sync program on Friday night, complete with dance routine and custom outfit... actually wears and sees much better with her new glasses, proving Mommy wrong... is thinking of making a fabric model of a bottle nosed dolphin for the Whale Museum they have at school every year... is a great big sister... signed up for softball in the spring...is constanty harassing me to give her my iPhone... is attending her last year of vacation Bible school during Feb break- next year she'll be a helper.

Jenna... had her first filling today and handled it like a trooper... weaseled her way out of a few hours of school on Monday morning, saying that her "tummy felt angry" but was actually fine... when asked why she was giving me a hard time about me going out for a bit with a friend of mine answered, "You don't need playdates. You're a MOM."... loves being a Girl Scout... just started having spelling tests at school... is refusing, once again, to sign up for anything over the summer... is happy that I am doing Junior Achievement in her classroom for the next four weeks... loves playing with her dolls and Barbies... is also in Lip Sync group and did awesome at the dress rehearsal- smiling, sashaying and dancing up a storm... still struggles with going to bed without a 40 minute struggle to do three things: brush teeth, go to the bathroom, and put on jammies... backs up so much when I help her brush her teeth that the other day we ended up in the hallway...is peppering her vocabulary with the word "like" a little more than I care for.

Alec... is doing great in therapy and is making slow but very steady and noticeable progress... is obsessed with his sisters' 3DS and loves watching Bob the Builder... had a terrible, horrible week two weeks ago with us and the therapists and is much better after getting it all out of his system...still loves SpongeBob... and trains... and Cars... while playing with the Little People farm the other day during Speech Therapy made everything lay on their side and go to sleep, including the farmer's tractor... is trying more to say more... is sleeping through the night every night... is registered for preschool this fall (gasp!)... still lives on love, strawberries, popsicles and occasionally pasta... has FINALLY started to agree to wearing a coat when he leaves the house, and it's last year's coat. Which is not even a winter coat. But it'll do.

Dan and I... are close to renting a house for a summer vacation on Cape Cod (where we haven't been since 2008!)... bought, put together and started using our treadmill... really like the treadmill... have hidden the key that starts the treadmill so littler people in our house (and I mean ALL the little people) can't turn it on by themselves... are trying to lose a little weight... are desperately trying to keep up with the activities in our family. And are very happy.

Alec Monkey Shines.

2012-01-12T16:26:00.000-05:00

Here's what Alec has been up to lately:

Learning the finer points of Angry Birds, or "A! B!" as he calls it.

Sneaking verrry quietly into the pantry, grabbing the Oreos, opening cookies,

licking the cream filling out, and discarding the cookie onto the floor.

Doing his best to charm me when he gets caught.

And if Mommy has the audacity to put the Oreos up high where Alec can't reach, no prob-

he drags a chair over and gets them himself.

Mastering his sister's Nintendo 3DS- he loves to stream Netflix through it

and watch the first two minutes of as many shows as possible.

Looking adorable.

Holiday Wrap Up, Part IV: The Gifts.

2012-01-09T14:12:00.002-05:00

Sometimes you have to look past all the mushy, sentimental, overdone, overwrought, "giving is the greatest joy of all" riff raff and get down to brass tacks: everyone gets gifts on Christmas, and that is awesome.
So, what did Santa leave for us under the tree?

(Side note: last month we had The Talk with Michaela about Santa Claus, and she took it all in stride. Now she has a loose tooth and asked us the other day about the Tooth Fairy. "Tell me the TRUTH," she said. Oh, how quickly the dominoes of childhood dreams fall once the first piece is knocked down...)

In no particular order...

The girls loved their new American Girl Dolls, Marie Grace (for Jenna) and Kaya (for Michaela). Jenna got every gift but one from the American Girl Doll catalog: the doll, clothes, bitty baby diaper bag, accessories for Julie, and a Marie-Grace matching nightgown. And a beautiful sapphire blue dress from Gymboree that is stunning.

I was beyond thrilled with my gifts- an iPhone, lipgloss and a bottle of Joseph Carr Cab Sav, signed by the vinter Joseph Carr himself. I also got an AMAZING outdoor fireplace from my parents which I am dying to use. Other great presents included a pen and ink drawing of our house, a gorgeous Beekman Brothers cookbook, a giftcard to a restaurant Dan and I are dying to go to, and another volume of my blog published. Lovely, personal and thoughtful gifts.

Michaela got four Lego sets and had put all them them together by December 27th. She really loved doing them, and worked with both Dan and my dad to assemble them. Good quality time. I hope she stays interested in them. Michaela also got some American Girl doll things, a new book, some shirts, and a photo album to put all her pictures from her weekends with Aunt Jaime and Uncle Michael as well as her Girl Scout camping weekends and Nature's Classroom. Jenna and Michaela also both got Nintendo 3DS systems from their grandma and grandpa, which were a big hit.

Alec got a wonderful assortment of cars, trucks, more cars, Cars stuff, Toy Story stuff, cars, books about cars, books about Cars, and the chop saw featured in the above picture, which he loved. The kid LOVES cars, Cars, and tools.

This was the scene on Christmas Day, when our normally empty living room was taken over by little brown-haired Italian children. And Alec. And they all had gifts to open. Very fun!

Hmmm. Legos. Looks like Alec is pretty interested in his sister's stuff...

These are four of the six fleece-backed Christmas blankets that I made for all my nieces and one for Alec. I tucked a winter/ Christmas book inside each blanket. This idea seemed much better in October, when I came up with it, and less so on December 23rd when I finally stitched up the last one. The girls all seemed to like their blankets and Alec hardly glanced at his. He could NOT have been less interested in it. Win some, lose some.

And Dan? Dan got a bit of the shaft this year. Yeah, he got an iPhone as well, and he got a new personalized calendar lovingly made by his wife, filled to the brim with pictures of his adoring kids, and a new Christmas tree ornament, but do you know what else he got? New boxer shorts.
And that's LAAAAAAAAAAME.

It was a great Christmas.

We Interrupt the Holiday Wrap Up with This Brief Story.

2012-01-06T10:59:00.000-05:00

The Scene: Dinnertime. We are all sitting around the table. Dan is explaining to the girls, who had endured a particularly combative afternoon with each other, complete with Shut up! and half hearted face slapping and consequences, the importance of being kind to each other. He illustrates his point by quoting Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, that wonderful movie from 1989 that launched Keanu Reeve's career.

Dan: Girls, as one character in a famous movie said, "Be excellent to each other and party on, dudes."

Michaela: Wait- who said that?

Jenna, excitedly: I know! It was Martin Luther King, Jr!

(Dan and Cheryl laugh and cringe at the same time, all the while saying silent apologies to MLK)

Holiday Wrap Up, Part III: Christmas Eve Service.

2012-01-05T16:15:00.000-05:00

Our Christmas Eve service this year was a memorable one.

The whole service is kid-friendly, kid-centered and featured our incredibly talented high school-aged Praise Band as musicians. We sang traditional hymns, including O Little Town of Bethlehem, which I especially love because I have lived most of my life in the Town of Bethlehem, and the Praise Band treated us to two songs that they chose and sang so beautifully I started crying. It was like the Nutcracker all over again. Sigh.

The kids' choir sang, and one of the songs they performed was written by Michaela, our godson Aidan, and Sara, a dear family friend. They did a great job writing it and we were really proud of them.

I happened to grab my camera on our way out the door to the service and am so glad I did: I love these pictures from that special evening.

Pastor Mark getting ready to start

My girls

Creator's Crusaders

During the sermon- all the kids were invited up onto the altar

Pastor Mark delivers his sermon on light

O Holy Night

This is the best shot I could get of Alec holding a lit candle while making sure he didn't burn the whole church down

After the service I was able to grab Michaela and have her pose with the poinsettias

Several side notes about the evening:

1. The church service was at 4pm. The Libuttis started getting ready at 1:30pm. I can't decide if that's impressive or pathetic.

2. All the kids had coordinated- not matching!! per Michaela's request- outfits from Gymboree. I loved them.

3. Alec was also supposed to wearing a red chunky sweater over his shirt. And a pair of black big boy loafers. Neither were deemed wearable by Mr. Alec.

4. It's hard to tell from the pictures, but Michaela had her hair pulled back tightly and I curled and pinned it into a bun placed right below her left ear. At one point in the afternoon, I felt like we were getting ready for the Oscars. She looked gore-geous. And Jenna looked as sweet as can be with her plaid dress and her hair pulled up in a half french braid.

5. Speaking of which, you know on the red carpet, the stars all look dazzling, and there is always a slightly schleppy person behind them, directing them on who to talk to and where to go? My girls were the stars; I was the schlepp. But I am more than happy to pour all my efforts into them.

6. After the service, we drove to a nearby street that sets candle luminaries along the sides of the road all up and and down the road. It's so pretty and we have admired it every year on Christmas Eve since I was a kid. It's a nice tradition that I shared with Dan and now share with our kids. I'm always grateful to the residents of the street who go to the trouble of setting it up each year.

Holiday Wrap Up, Part II: The Nutcracker.

2012-01-04T13:00:00.000-05:00

Around the second week in November, the mother of Laura, a friend of Michaela's, called with a wonderful request.

"Laura is dancing in the Nutcracker in December, and she's actually Clara, which is a dream come true for her. Since all of our family is in England, we were wondering if you would like to come to the performance and see Laura dance. It would really mean alot to Laura and us. I can get good tickets for you if you'd like."

Twist my arm. I was so excited for Laura, who I have gotten to know over the last year and a half, and excited for the idea of having a special outing with Michaela, and excited to see a real ballet performance- of the Nutcracker, no less, whose music I have adored since I was a child-and excited to have this holiday-ish outing to look forward to. We were in.

So that night, December 18th, Michaela and I headed into Albany to The Egg and eagerly awaited the start of the show. The theater where it was staged is a beautiful one- all curves and soft lighting and contrasts of wood and concrete.

As promised, we had wonderful seats and browsed through the program as we waited.

And then the curtain came up.

And we were completely blown away.

I am almost crying now just thinking and writing about it.

First of all, it was beautiful. The dancing was gorgeous, the set- made to look like a grand parlor in a huge home- was amazing, and the costumes were jawdropping: velvet in every color, swirling and rustling, filled with richness and light.

And there was Laura, our Laura, who has been to our house countless times, who is a great friend to Michaela, who has stood in front of my pantry and announced, "THIS IS MY FAVORITE ROOM IN YOUR HOUSE!", who is creative and dramatic and sweet and just as bouncy and energetic as my Mimi, Laura was dressed in a filmy nightgown with layers upon layers of gauze with cotton bloomers underneath and perfectly tailored to be worn by a little girl.

And Laura was the star of the show. And she danced with such confidence, such grace, such a beaming smile on her face, without a bit of hesitation or anxiousness, like she was born to be up there, born to be Clara, born to be dancing this huge part in front of hundreds of awe-struck people.

She was as natural as could be and perfect in every way. Not one missed step.

And all I could think of was how I know her, and her lovely family, and how they drive her to ballet practice every week, and all the time and energy that goes into having your child take on that kind of responsibility, and how long she has been dancing, year in and year out, all culminating to this moment when she is on stage, dancing with the Nutcracker, hair perfectly curled into little blond ringlets as she sashayed around the stage.

I almost exploded with pride.

The second act was just as magical as the first, with the spotlight more on the older dancers- the Snow Queen, the Sugar Plum Fairy, the Waltz of the Flowers, and during the Pas de Deux I was so overcome with the beauty of it all that I started weeping. The music, the dancers, the precision, the hours and hours and hours of practice and time and sacrifice these dancers have made to make this performance, this very moment, so breathtaking.

We clapped as loud as humanly possible when the show was over and I tried to regain my composure. But I just couldn't: I was so totally blown away by the whole experience and all I wanted to do was congratulate Laura and her family and somehow begin to process what we had just seen.

We left the theater and waited outside for the dancers to arrive. Laura first ran to her father, who picked her up off the floor and hugged her. I could not imagine the joy and the pride and the love he must have felt for her at that moment. Here they are:

Laura, somehow, was as cool as a cucumber and just smiled and smiled at all of us crowded around her. Laura's two older brothers snapped dozens of pictures and hugged her and offered her congratulations. Another friend was there with her family as well as her teachers from this year and last. Laura's aunt had flown in from England to see her, and thankfully she was bawling as hard as I was, so at least I had company. Laura finally asked Michaela: "Is your mom going to be okay?" And Michaela assured her that yes, her crazy crying mother would be fine, that sometimes I get a little carried away.

And here is the crowd, all gathered around Laura, our little Laura, who had just been effortlessly onstage without a care in the world. And blew us all away.

I cried for a long time that night, with happiness and joy for Laura and her family, for appreciation of what they had done, for Laura's talent and poise, for the beauty that had been revealed to me that night, for the happiness of being able to share this with my angel Michaela, who deemed the whole show "magical", for the music and the dancing and the costumes and the gorgeousness.

I will never, ever forget it.

Holiday Wrap Up: Part I.

2012-01-03T14:52:00.001-05:00

Let's start from the beginning: I never posted anything about Thanksgiving.

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving here at our house. My parents and Dan's dad were here with us just like last year. It's a great number of people: just enough to make it feel like a party but not so many that you have to cook two twenty-pound turkeys.

We started with the cinnamon rolls.

And hot chocolate. With marshmallows or without... whatever you choose.

At 9am sharp, the Thanksgiving Day parade started and we soaked in every minute. The picture below is the girls watching the Rockettes and Michaela trying out her high leg kick.

Even the pilgrims came. And a turkey made of pinecone that Jenna made in school.

I was cooking and getting the table ready, but managed to pause for some pictures after I finally got myself cleaned up. I was thrilled- embarrassingly so- that we got some great pictures of Dan and I. We have so few of them that each one is precious.

And of course the girls wanted in on this action. They are wearing their special Thanksgiving Day shirts and really got into the picture taking. We have about 20 shots of every possible combination of people in our family. It was really cute.

Before the guests arrived, I grabbed a shot of my three cherubs.

We had a wonderful traditional Thanksgiving feast, with turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, candied yams, peas, corn, crescent rolls and a new cranberry relish, which was tart and citrus-y. So delicious. For dessert I had apple crisp and cookies and brownies and a pumpkin pie that I completely forgot to bake. But that was fine: between the many appetizers, the dinner and the dessert, we were all too stuffed to notice. After dinner, Alec succumbed to the dreaded Triptophan Malaise:

Some of the cookies were sugar cookies and I got some frosting and Christmas-themed sprinkles for the girls to decorate the cookies. Jenna really loved doing that, and it's written all over her face...

The night before, we attended a church service and I was able to get all three kids to sit still and smile on our stairs. It's one of my favorite pictures from the whole year. Church was lovely: full of beautiful hymns and thanksgiving for the blessings God has heaped upon us.

And at the end of the day: perfection. A gorgeous pink-purple sky right outside out front window to see.

It was a day of plenty, and we are grateful for every last piece of it.

Gabriel's Message.

2011-12-21T17:04:00.003-05:00

The angel Gabriel from heaven came
His wings as drifted snow
His eyes as flame
"All hail" said he, "thou lowly maiden Mary,
Most highly favoured lady,"
Gloria!

"For known a blessed mother thou shalt be,
All generations laud and honor thee,
Thy Son shall be Emanuel,
By seers foretold
Most highly favoured lady,"
Gloria!

Then gentle Mary meekly bowed her head
"To me be as it pleaseth God," she said,
"My soul shall laud and magnify his holy name."
Most highly favoured lady
Gloria!

Of her Emanuel, the Christ, was born
In Bethlehem all on a Christmas morn
And Christian folk throughout the world forever will say:
Most highly favoured lady
Gloria!

Have a blessed, peaceful and wonder-filled Christmas!

December Craziness.

2011-12-14T14:19:00.002-05:00

I know, I know- everyone says that December is crazy, with the shopping and wrapping and decorating and card writing and calendar making and holiday baking and special food planning and classroom party volunteering.

We've got all that and a little extra: Alec's speech therapy and special education services have begun. They both come twice per week, sometimes on the same day, sometimes not, and I really love them both. The speech therapist is working on teaching him some easy motions in sign language so he can communicate with us. We've done pretty well integrating all done, more, open, and downstairs into his communcations with us; we are working on help, please, bubbles and blocks. I also am proud to say that I can now tell you all the signs for common banyard animals and their sounds.

The idea is to have him look at us more when he asking for something, instead of just thrusting something into our line of vision and grunting. He has to put more effort into the communication process. And he's doing great- he has had almost three full weeks of therapy and I think I notice a change in his behavior and his vocalizations. He seems a little more confident as well, probably because we are showering him with praise when he shows us a sign spontaneously or says a new word.

The special education teacher is working on speech type issues as well, and is also giving us some support and advice about how to best handle his behavior meltdowns. We had a huge breakthrough this weekend when we kicked him out of our bed, where he had been sleeping for a month or two against our wishes. We just couldn't come up with a better idea of how to handle his nighttime issues, which consisted of him wanting to be with me all night long. And by "with me", I mean WITH ME- he loved to tuck his knees under my left armpit and lay across on top of my shoulders, neck and face.

So last Friday night we shipped the girls out to a sleepovers and let Alec cry it out in his crib. And overall, he did great because I didn't cave, like I did the last time we tried in October and he cried from 1:30am to 3:40am and I just couldn't take it anymore. This time, I was ready: sick to my stomach and steely-eyed all at the same time. We put him in at 10:30pm, he cried for a half hour, then puked (which I was expecting) but then after getting cleaned up only cried for another fifteen minutes before falling asleep. He woke up at 1:30 and then again at 3:30am, but wasn't crying hard and settled himself back down after about 15 minutes. Saturday night he did even better, falling asleep after 2 minutes of barely fussing and sleeping through the night. THROUGH THE NIGHT. We are like new people over here.

And to be honest, this was a victory that we all needed... the temper tantrums and poor sleeping habits were really getting us down, particularly me who is with him all day and bears the brunt of the meltdowns, who never is quite sure when he's going to be lovely and wonderful and when he's going to wrestle me in defiance. The special ed teacher is helping me regain control and confidence about setting limits with him, and coaching me about following through. She suggested we make a chart that shows pictures of the evening routine so he can learn what to expect next: first dinner, then bath or playtime, then pajamas, then teeth, then book reading, then crib. Oooohhh! A craft project!! I was all over that like white on rice. And even Michaela likes to help show Alec what's next on his chart, which is a great reinforcer.

This was also one of the first times I felt I could prepare him verbally for what was about to happen and he understood. We talked all day on Friday about how he was going to sleep in his crib that night like a big boy, like Mimi sleeps in her room by herself and Nenna sleeps in her room by herself. And he would smile sweetly at me when I said it. And I felt like he really got it, which was weird for me because my internal default setting for Alec is that he's about 7 months old. I feel like this marked a change in my own perception of him, that I finally can see what he can do and see that he's not just a baby anymore.

It has made me more mindful of how I am parenting him, how I talk to him, and what I am doing that is hurting and what I am doing that is helping. And that, my friends, is not an easy process to go through. Having people come into your house, even when you invite them in because you need help and your baby clearly needs help, and having them ask you questions and make (absolutely correct) pronouncements about how you can be a better parent is humbling and hard and deflating and uncomfortable. I really strive hard each and every day to Do Things Right as a mom to my children and to hear from someone that it could be better really feels just plain sucky. But then you think to yourself, "Well, what's more helpful? To get huffy and defensive and nasty? Or to swallow and digest what they are saying, really think about it, and put their recommendations into action?" And it becomes clear that everyone's goal here is to make Alec a happier, more engaged, communicative kid, and of course you do what is suggested, no matter how chastized you may feel. And you grow and be better.

So that's what's going on here, along with Christmas and Michaela getting glasses, which she desperately wanted and barely even needs (the eye doctor said "the glasses may make a subjective difference") , and Jenna being off the wall about Christmas coming up (she wrote a second letter to Santa this morning, asking if she is on the "good list or the bad list") and us getting new cellphones for our Christmas present (I love me some iPhone and Siri) and switching over to Fios from regular cable (the verizon people have been here three times since Friday with various issues but I think we're all resolved now) and losing my earthlink email address that I've had for 15 years and establishing new email addresses.

We're listening to lots of Christmas music, enjoying our TWO pretty Christmas trees, enjoying Advent, and looking forward to a quiet, uncluttered, and calm January. Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh.

The Great Tree Fiasco of 2011: Part Two.

2011-12-14T13:28:00.001-05:00

I am very, very happy to report that our previously banished real tree has wormed its way back into our hearts and our living room.
Turns out it's all about the base.
We secured a new base on loan and decided to give it one more chance. Because it looked horribly forlorn laying out in our front yard.
We put up the tree, let it sit inside undecorated for a few days (like a tree purgatory), and last night relit/ regarland-ed/ re-ornamented it.

And it's beautiful again.

The Great Tree Fiasco of 2011.

2011-12-06T13:51:00.001-05:00

The Libutti family has a fake Christmas tree that we bought years ago and just absolutely adore. Every year on the day after Thanksgiving, we drag this tree out, set up the center pole and arrange the branches one by one until it's full and pretty. Then we add the lights, and the ornaments, and the angel we've had for our entire married life who blinks on the top. It's sentimental and pretty and satisfying.

When we moved into our new house, we both thought that maybe adding a second tree to go in the front living room window would be nice. So for the whole year, we kept an eye on After Christmas sales, Christmas in July sales, and pre Christmas sales looking for a suitable mate for our beloved, trusty tree. Sure, we found many possibilities, but we were never quite ready to make the commitmentt to buy another.

Then I had a brilliant idea- we could buy a REAL tree, get some basic ornaments for it, throw on some lights, and -viola!- problem solved for much less money. Plus, we would get to experience the joy of a REAL tree- the smell, the shape, all those bushy branches, and the idea of doing Christmas in the Traditional Manner. And you know how I'm all about tradition.

So on Saturday afternoon, we all piled into the family truckster and headed out to our local nursery. We roamed around a little, weighing a few different trees, some too short, some too tall, some too thin, some with bad sides, when Dan showed me one and it hit me with a love force: I LOVED THIS TREE. I wanted this tree and this tree would look perfect in our living room. The dream was coming true.

We put the tree on the roof of our car, much to Dan's chagrin and my delight- because what's more Americana than throwing a pine tree on your car full of happy kids and bringing it home? It's as delightful as wearing red, white and blue to your town's Memorial Day parade. I almost cried with happiness.

We came home, brought it inside, promptly realized the tree was about 6 inches too tall, trimmed the top, put on the lights and the garland and the beautiful gold and brown ornaments and the star on top. We had on Christmas carols and were all full of cheer. And this is what it looked like:

I was in love. Our dream of a second tree came true, and it was magnificent. I drank a glass of wine sitting in my living room, listening to music and cuddling with Jenna, who was interested in hearing how we chose the names Michaela, Jenna and Alec for them. A little while later, I went outside with my camera to take a picture of our holiday lights.

The next day, Sunday, I had to take Jenna to a birthday party. On my way home, I get a call from Dan.

"We have a big problem." he says.

"Are you having trouble with Alec?" I ask.

"No- I WISH that was the problem. Our tree fell over."

I got home, and sure enough, the whole thing had toppled over to the right. The water had spilled, there were pine needles everywhere, and it was a mess. So I did what I always do in these kind of situations.

I called my father.

He came right away to investigate and solve our problem. Dan and I had tried lifting the tree and repositioning it in the base but were not having any luck. My dad brought twine and he and Dan worked to get it back up, secured to the window moldings, and all was back to rights. Disaster averted.

On Monday at about 3pm, I was playing in the basement with Alec right before his nap. I heard some rustling upstairs but thought it was the cat getting into something- it was just a low level ambient noise we always have around the house. When I came back up, the tree was down again, shifted to the right, with half of the base off the ground. I picked it up and leaned it up against the window.

Last night I had to go out with Michaela for Girl Scouts but when I came home Dan and I worked on getting it into the base, tall and straight, for the third time. We had it all set- a bit precarious, but set- and within minutes it was down again, again to the right side.

Now, do me a favor- scroll back up and look at the picture of the upright tree. My majestic, beautiful dream-maker tree. See where the star on top is? See how straight the tree looks? And now see how far to the left the base is?

Our tree was doomed to fall and keep falling. It's crooked. A defective tree.

If it was just Dan and I, I would have stuck it out. But with a senile cat and three kids whizzing around the house, and three more kids coming for Christmas Day, I was too nervous that the tree would fall down on someone or rip itself out of the twine, damage our walls or window, and generally wreak havoc on our life.

So we took it down.

Off came the ornaments, the garland, the lights and the star. Gone was the smell, the needles, the dream of a tree in the window. We put everything away in a plastic bin, vacuumed up the mess, and generally felt sorry for ourselves.

And here's the tree now:

I'm sure our neighbors are wondering exactly what has happened over here. We have decided to just buy another fake tree after this holiday and put it up next Christmas.

And I'm pretty sure that our trusty ol' fake tree in the family room is snickering at us.

Thanksgiving Eve, 2 pm.

2011-11-23T14:02:00.001-05:00

This holiday baking gig is ALRIGHT.

With Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore.

2011-11-22T21:11:00.001-05:00

'Twas two days before Thanksgiving and all through the house
Dad was at the office but not so his spouse.
She was at home, scrubbing and cleaning,
making sure every inch was a -gleaming.
The shopping was done and the dinner was planned
Most cooked from scratch (but the yams would be canned).
Cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and rolls,
stuffing and turkey and cran relish in bowls.
The cinnamon rolls were in the fridge waiting
as dreams of a low-calorie day started fading.
Hot coccoa was bought, extra marshmallows, too,
to sip while watching the parade and balloons.
The kids' outfits were ready, all red, brown and white,
to show off at church on Wednesday night.
All that was left was the cooking and baking-
the dishes Mommy looked so forward to making.
Pumpkin pie, apple crisp, sugar cookies galore
spiking blood sugars and kids shouting, "More!"
As Mommy unpacks her apron of toile,
the paperboy brings fliers of sales at the mall.
Later on there'll be football and plenty of naps
as kids tug on wishbones until they hear snaps.
Maybe a fire, some games or Playstation
and hopefully a screening of Christmas Vacation.
So much to look forward to! So much to savor!
The family- the fun- the smells and the flavors!
Thanksgiving is harvest, abundance, and autumn
a family holiday from its top to its bottom.
For no matter where people may ramble and roam
they always return for this celebration of home.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Fall Soccer 2011.

2011-11-16T15:00:00.001-05:00

This fall was Michaela's 9th season playing soccer, and it was a tough season, weather wise- brutally hot and buggy (from all the rain we had over the summer) in the beginning of the season and frigid, wet and windy at the end. Not good for players or loyal fans. Michaela played on a girls' team of 4th and 5th graders, and I am embarrassed to say how few of them I knew by the end of the season. I used to take pride in getting to know all the kids she played with, but since I've had Alec, whose behavior is pretty attention-dominating at games (we mostly just sat in the car and watched during the practices) I have dropped that ball. And that's really okay. Thankfully she was with two good friends from her old school and her favorite Coach Tim, so she had a good time.

Action shots

Watch out, Sports Illustrated- there's a (very) young photographer coming onto the scene... once he figures out how to exactly look through the viewfinder.

After shooting a tough game, this photographer rewards himself with a Popsicle.

Michaela and her friend Erin, who has been on her soccer team every season but one since they were four years old. What a joy it is to watch them grow up together.

One of the team moms made these cookies for the girls to enjoy at the End of Season Party. Super cute.

Michaela's shoulders are up by her ears because it was about 35 degrees outside and we were celebrating in an unheated pavilion. Brrr.

Congrats to Michaela and her team on another great season!

Halloween, One Week Late. Sorry.

2011-11-08T10:38:00.001-05:00

Everyone was happy this Halloween:

1. I was happy that I didn't have to convince Michaela to NOT wear a Teenage Goth Vampire Hottie costume.

2. Dan was happy that the girls' costumes were warm and that they both took trick or treating seriously and really worked the neighborhood.

3. Michaela was happy that she got to troll two neighborhoods with her friend and gathered an impressive 210 pieces of candy.

4. Jenna was happy that she looked so adorable in her Jessie costume and that her aunt and uncle got her the super snazzy hat and boots. "I want to wear them EVERY DAY!" (Thank you, Brian and Beth!)

5. Alec was happy that we did not force him to wear a costume at all, just a Halloween-themed t-shirt. And that was good enough for Mommy.

Our neighborhood Halloween Parade and party was cancelled due to the freak snowstorm that came through Saturday night. Luckily, we were mostly spared and only got about three inches of snow.

Sunday night we ventured out to the Halloween Barn Party we go to every year at a local family farm.

Michaela helped with the face painting.

In very typical Alec style, he refused to wear a coat the whole time.

Did I mention there was there was three inches of snow on the ground? And we were in a barn?

Here's the girls in their Halloween themed t-shirts they wore to school that day.

Here's a Halloween themed treat I made with chocolate chocolate chip cookie dough.

Here's my Eskimo girl.

Here's my Jessie from Toy Story.

Here's Alec eyeing that snazzy hat.

Here's Alec walking away, hat stolen.

Here's Alec sitting in the best seat in the house- inches away from the candy bowl. He's no dummy.

He helped me greet all our trick or treaters: he would run to the door, open it, look at the people and wait for me to hand them the bowl. When we were done, he would close the door and then touch the door lock and the deadbolt, because that's what we do. I can only imagine how bizarre the whole evening was for him: why are all these people coming to our house? Why aren't they coming in? Why do they look so funny? Why are we giving them our CANDY?

And here's the loot- Michaela had to count and sort it for a Math homework assignment, which led to a spirited discussion of whether Tootsie Rolls are a "bar candy" or an "other" and whether Whoppers are a "bagged candy" or an "other".

It was a great, safe, happy Halloween. Now... on to Thanksgiving!!!!

Yesterday's Score Card.

2011-11-02T14:17:00.002-04:00

Victory: (Sort of) Understood two new words said by Alec today: "burp" and "excuse me". Thanks to Michaela for teaching him how to fake burp at the end of tea parties.

Defeat: Endured three temper tantrums.

How I Spent My October.

2011-10-26T15:45:00.001-04:00

Michaela's friend party: October 22nd.

Michaela's family party: October 2nd.

Michaela's cupcakes for her class: October 6th.

Michaela celebrates at my parents' house: October 5th.

Michaela requests an ice cream pie for her actual birthday: October 8th.

She can't say we don't love her and celebrate her.

A Jenna Story to Make Your Day.

2011-10-24T14:37:00.000-04:00

So my parents recently returned from visiting my brother and his family in Chicago. A few years ago, my mom started bringing back gifts for the girls when they went away... a toy or book or Polly Pockets or a video game.

As Dan and I were recently cleaning out our basement play area and put aside four buckets of toys that are no longer played with, we decided that at ages 6 and 10, the girls can tolerate a separation from their grandparents without a gift coming along with the reunion.

We explained to the girls that while we are of course thrilled when Gammie and PopPop return, they will no longer be bringing gifts with them: we'll simply be happy that they got back to us safely.

Jenna's response: "Well, that SUCKS."

Oooooohh, Alec.

2011-10-23T14:39:00.003-04:00

One of the joys of being a parent for a medium amount of time (I'm not a rookie, but certainly have a long ways to go before being a veteran parent) is that you do begin to see patterns and truisms appear in the process of raising children. One truism that I figured out about three years in was this: all kids are tough at one time or another. If your kid seems like an "easy" kid, don't worry- your trying time will come.

Now, remember back when Alec was born, and then we sailed through his first year, and I kept saying how wonderful tempered, how easy and happy, how all-around-dreamy he was? And handsome to boot?

Yes. My trying time has officially come.

There are several factors at work here that are causing this change: he just turned two and is flexing his completely age-appropriate independent wings; he still doesn't talk much, which causes him great frustration and angst; and he has cut at least four teeth in the last three months.

These factors have affected his sleeping patterns, his eating patterns, his pooping patterns, his napping patterns, his bedtime routine, his daytime routine, his bathtime, his desire to wear (or not wear) certain clothing, his absolute refusal to get his diaper changed, his tolerance (and intolerance) for me doing things without him. They have also made his world substantially smaller as we can no longer take him out to dinner or to church any longer.

Several times per day, when he becomes displeased with the choices his parents are making and forcing upon him (WHAT? Changing my diaper AND putting pajamas on??? Are you CRAZY?) Alec completely melts down and screams and cries. He is unredirectable during these jags and we have learned to just ignore him the best we can. Sometimes, like when we HAVE to be somewhere, we have to impose our will upon him and boy, is that not fun. He will cry and scream and kick and wriggle and try as hard as he can to get away from us (thankfully we have escaped biting and hitting thus far) and generally be as unpleasant as a kid can be. After a while, he will settle down and then acts as if nothing has happened and he is sweet, happy Alec once again.

Today he flipped out because I threw out his soaking wet diaper and wouldn't let him play with it. I know- how unreasonable can a mommy be??

Bathtime is a total nightmare. It has switched over the past 21 months with no rhyme or reason from something he hates so much he flips out when you put him in to something he loves so much that he flips out when you take him out and now BACK to hating it so much that he flips out and tries to climb out of the tub the whole time. Dan and I have to tag team him, Dan in the tub, standing up behind Alec and keeping him in the bathwater (Alec will throw his legs over the edge, arch his back and do anything to get out) with me kneeling outside the tub trying to get him bathed as quickly as possible. We all get soaked. Alec screams and cries the whole time, and the funniest part is that when it is over (pretty quickly- I'm a quick bather), we immediately take him out of the tub ... and then he tries to climb back in. He leans over the edge with his arms outstretched, just as mad that we took him out.

Another charming part to this whole matrix of behavior issues is that Alec is a puker. He has multiple times cried so hard that he has puked all over himself and us. We tried the Ferber Method on him a few nights ago to make him sleep through the night, something we did with Jenna with great success, and he cried for two hours and the whole time I was praying, Please don't puke, please don't puke, please don't puke. He didn't puke but at 3:40 am I caved in and botched the whole thing. I just couldn't take it anymore.

But... we are relearning the new rules Alec is presenting us with and forging ahead. We are getting smarter about some things and setting better boundaries where they need to be set. We are adapting. We have some very, very good days where he is meltdown-free and his usual lovely, grinning self. And the days that are not so good are another day closer to him growing out of this ridiculousness. He is being evaluated by the county on Tuesday for speech therapy and we are pretty certain he will qualify for services. He continues to be a loving little boy who gives the most delicious lip-smacking kisses when he's in the mood. He has all kinds of crazy quirks which make us laugh, like how he licks the DVD before he puts it in the DVD player because he has seen us clean his grubby fingerprints off of them before we play them. He loves to play and be with his sisters, loves his train and his Cars puzzle, loves to throw the football into the different rooms upstairs and then says, "Go?" with his palms upturned, asking where did the ball go. He would be very, very happy if I could lay with him on the couch until around 10am, watching SpongeBob, and then have him and I just sort of play all morning in his room and the basement, and maybe eat an apple or some pasta when he feels like it. And heck, I'd love to do that to, but I have a few other obligations I need to attend to, like showering myself (when Alec is not on board with that plan, he stands outside the shower the whole time I'm in there and cries and insists that one of the shower doors be open), and all the tasks involved in running our household.

So our boy is two and trying the best he can to grow and makes his needs known, usually through screaming.

As my mother and grandmother always said, "It's a good thing you're good looking, or you'd be dead by Tuesday."

Columbus Day Outing.

2011-10-13T14:33:00.003-04:00

On Columbus Day, Dan had taken the day off and it was a perfect opportunity to do a fun, fall-type activity with our family. The weather was beautiful and we gave a few options to the girls, and the clear winner was going apple picking. So off we went.

The girls were great pickers and filled up our bag with apples, after we found the trees that hadn't been picked clean. (At one point, we were wandering around the orchard in the KENDALL APPLES section, looking at empty tree after empty tree as I pushed my strapping 30+ pound son in a stroller over uneven ground covered in fallen, rotting apples. And did I mention it was about 85 degrees outside? It gave me flashbacks to when Dan and I went to a pick your own pumpkin patch, which we thought was so cute and harvest-y and romantic, and what we actually found was a picked-over field of marginal pumpkins surrounded by thick dying vines and rotting gourds. Not quite as picture-perfect as it sounded.) But we did find trees laden with fruit in another section and everyone enjoyed helping. Well, Alec enjoyed eating and watching.

Dan and I also wanted to go to a state park near us that has a fantastic beautiful overlook.

I love this picture, especially Michaela's face as Jenna looks through the binoculars. Those binoculars have been there for at least 30 years, and if you go to the overlook, it's always required that you pop in a few quarters and have a look at the landscape below you.

I got some great pictures of the girls. Alec was less than willing to be photographed.

It was a lovely day and I got some great shots of the kids. But I have to admit that when we got home, I collapsed onto my bed face down, slept for an hour, and when I woke up I was aching from sleeping so hard.

Family fun sure can tire you out sometimes.

Michaela Hits Double Digits.

2011-10-08T17:13:00.006-04:00

Dear Michaela,
It is beyond my comprehension that an entire decade has gone by since you arrived in this world.
You are a joy to behold: so pretty and athletic and energetic, full of life and laughter, bouncing your way through every encounter and activity.
This year we have witnessed the start of your real transformation into Being Grown Up, as you eschew t-shirts that are too cutesy, are much more interested in pop culture and technology and what your friends are into, and get more and more wrapped up in Standard Pre-Teenage Girl Drama. You broke my heart a few weeks ago by announcing that you will not, in any uncertain terms, match dresses with your sister this Christmas. I guess I knew that day was coming but I'm sad just the same.
You have enjoyed watching mom-approved Saturday Night Live skits with me, did your first loads of laundry, played softball for the first time, made lots of new friends, got in trouble in school for the first time, developed your first crush, started playing your first instrument, and finished your first stage of orthodontics this year. Your 10th year on earth was a biggie.
And through it all, you are always Trying To Follow The Rules, being the good first-born girl that you are, and at the same time trying to convince the world that Your Way is Always The Right Way. You are always full of suggestions, how about this?-es, and we really should...s.
And while you sometimes drive us crazy, the four people you live with, you are a delight to the public world. You have been in some stressful situations this year, grown up situations that demanded you know how to act, how to be mature, how to be other-directed, and how to be polite, and you more than lived up to the challenge: you made us unabashedly proud.
You are a great kid.

And for all this grown up stuff, you are still that wide-cheeked two year old with the curly hair and tiny gapped front teeth that I see in pictures, though I mourn that I can't see that little girl in person anymore. That little girl is growing each day into a young lady whom I love more than I ever imagined, a good girl, a super fun girl, a happy girl, a chatty girl, a girl with lots of friends, a girl who still likes her mom to lay down with her at night.

Happy Birthday, my Mimio, and best wishes for a year of love and laughter and joy and growth.
Love,
Mom

Happy 2nd Birthday to Alec.

2011-09-24T15:55:00.005-04:00

Dear Alec,

Two years ago from this very moment, I was in the throws of hard and fast labor, about to start pushing you and your seemingly enormous head out. At this moment two years ago, I had a vague idea about what it would be like to have you, our first son, what you might look like, how you would fit into our family, and how much we would love you.

And it turns out that we underestimated everything: because you, indeed, are better than I ever could have imagined.

You are more handsome, more loving, a better fit, more loving and snuggly, and better tempered than my wildest dreams. We love you more than seemed possible.

(I mean, come on... look at that face.)

Your second year has been a great one, watching you grow and grow and grow some more, even though you seem to not need to really eat any real food. I always say that you live on love and strawberries and goldfish crackers. You are tall and big, and people are always startled at how young you are when they stop me in the store. "Oh! Wow! I thought he was three!" is something I've heard over and over. You have slept through the night for most of the year, except when you were teething, and that certainly made me love you more each morning when I woke up well-rested.

You are growing a little more Jenna-esque in your personality, as for the last month or two you have only accepted me as a suitable person to get up with you in the morning, take you out of your crib, put in a DVD, or pour you a bottle. One morning a few weeks ago, Daddy got a bottle for you, and you fussed until I got up off the couch, poured the milk back into the jug, repoured it into the bottle and handed it to you. And that made your fussing stop. You have also shown the true colors of your impending two-ness by throwing, approximately every other day (sometimes more, sometimes less, sometimes three in one day) a colossal fit in which you just stand there and scream the most ear-splitting high-pitched scream, over and over. You did it once because you didn't want to wear pajama pants. You did it today because you wanted to ride in your stroller at Michaela's soccer game. Being third time parents, we sigh and say, "Alec's having a fit" and try to figure out what has gotten you so upset in the first place.

Now, this would all be easier if you would talk to us, but that just hasn't happened yet. We have gotten better and better at deciphering your grunts and points, and your many uses of the syllable "ba". Time will fix this and soon you'll be bending our ear non-stop.

This year coming up is my last one with you all to myself: this time next year you will be in preschool two mornings a week, playing and laughing and learning with some new friends. I have not one worry about you going to preschool; you are lovely and not at all grabby or rough. Just a gentle, sweet, fun-loving kid.

I baked cupcakes for your birthday and made the mistake of leaving them on the counter where you could see them when you woke up. So, of course, you wanted one for breakfast.

And, being the third child, you got what you wanted.

We got you a GeoTrax train for your birthday and you are deeply in love. So are your sisters, by the way- they play with it as much as you do.

After lunch we sang "Happy Birthday" and lit a candle for you and Mimi helped you blow it out. You clapped, very appropriately, though I'm fairly certain you have no idea what this fuss is all about. But everyone around you is smiling, so you smile, too. That's just the way you are.

Happy birthday to my big, beautiful, happy boy Alec. You are loved and cherished and celebrated today and every day.

Love,

Mommy

Wait. What? What! Whaaaaat!

2011-09-22T16:10:00.003-04:00

I am writing this post in honor of my big girl, who at this moment has been whisked away from me by her school and brought to a neighboring state for four days. It's the Nature's Classroom program, and so good for them and they have so much fun and bonding and yeah, yeah, yeah... But this is my BABY! And it's FOUR DAYS! No phone calls, no visits, nothing.
I brought her to school early on Tuesday and she gets home tomorrow at about 1:45pm. She was thrilled to be going, spending the last few days before her departure pinging off the walls, while I packed and labeled and strategized and planned and folded and purchased the few missing things from the Suggested List. ("Mom, it says here I need a robe. You need to buy me one." Ah, no. You can do without the robe. But I will buy you waterproof boots, the disposable camera and a sleeping bag.) I was a nervous wreck but only showed excitement to Michaela. Now that she's been gone a few days, the lead-up to departure was definitely worse than actually having her gone. The hardest part of having her away is that it is the only place she has stayed overnight without me that I can't visualize: I have no idea what the place looks like, who she is bunking with, what their activities are, what they are eating, all that kind of stuff. I'm sure she will return with stories and pictures galore.
Her teacher (The Thoroughly Amazing Mrs. R.) gave us some words of advice at Open House last week, including making sure your child knows where things are packed. She had a student a few years ago not realize that the warmer clothes were at the bottom of the duffel bag, so the student was cold for days unneccesarily. So as a (typical) overcorrection, I barked orders and directions to Michaela for hours before she left: "This is where the ponchos are! This is where I put your boots! Short sleeved shirts are on this side, long sleeved shirts are on this side! I labeled the sleeping bag on the end, so look for your name here! This is a zipper- grasp this rectangle and pull to open the duffel bag!" Okay, I made that last one up, but you get my point. I was pretty ridiculous. Dan just smiled and shook his head at me.

Michaela expressed her excitement about going to Nature's Classroom by punctuating every sentence she said with, "What! WHAAAAT!" at the end, said very quickly and forcefully. She used to pound herself on the chest (thump, thump) with an open palm while saying it but I banned that action pretty quickly after declaring it horrifyingly unladylike. So this is what living with her was like last week:
"Goin' to Nature's Classroom Tuesday... What! Whaaaat!"
"I hope I'm bunking with Anna... we'd have SUCH a good time! What! Whaaat!"
"What's for dinner? Tacos? I LOVE tacos! What! Whaaat!"
"No homework tonight! What! Whaaaat!"

So you get the point. Thankfully, because I am her mother and gave birth to her, I can tolerate this longer than the average bear. Plus her energy and enthusiasm for life is so infectious and endearing, I can't help but laugh as it slowly drives me crazy.
The jury is still out on whether the What! Whaaat! is better or worse than the summer's catchphrase, which was "Wait. What?" Anytime you said anything to her, that was her response.
"You have a dentist appointment next Monday."
"Wait. What?"
"I said you have a dentist appointment on Monday."
It was like any time you gave her a piece of information, her brain had to stop and process it seperately from everything else that was going on around her. She said the "Wait." part much like pundits and politicians say, "Look." at the beginning of their answers when being interviewed. Authoritatively. In command.
Dan and I started answering her by saying "Wait." So we would say, "Would you like more green beans?" and she'd answer, "Wait. What?" and then we'd say back, "Wait. Do you want more green beans?" And then she'd realize she had said it again and smile.

I'm thinking it's better than what she'll be saying to us in a few years. If she's talking to us at all. Wait. What?

Bits and Pieces from Libutti Land.

2011-09-13T13:57:00.002-04:00

All systems are go at Eagle Elementary. The girls both seem to like their teachers and are happy to be reunited with their friends, despite having most of them at our house once or twice or a billion times over the summer break. I am pleasantly surprised by how smoothly we have slipped back into the school morning routine. Now its all about what the weather is going to be and how it will affect their outfit choices, what the special of the day is (library, music, P.E., art) and do I really, truly, HAVE TO brush my teeth before school? And is there ANY wiggle room in the whole "clearing your plate and cup from the table" routine? And my answers are always the same: yes to the first and no to the second. Just do it.

Bedtime continues to be a ridiculous struggle; so much so that I finally had an epiphany a few weeks ago while brushing Jenna's teeth and asking her for the 20th time to please stop looking in the mirror at herself and OPEN HER MOUTH SO I CAN MOVE THE TOOTHBRUSH.
"Jenna," I told her, "guess what?"
"What?" she asked.
"Tomorrow night, you are going to be me and I am going to be you and you are going to get me ready for bed. You are going to brush my teeth, and comb my hair and get my jammies on. And I'm going to be you and I'm going to stall and whine and do all the things you do that make Mommy crazy."
"Ohhhhh! I can't WAIT!" says Jenna, beaming.
So the next night we did just that: I played the part of Jenna and she was me. And I did all the things that she does: stalling, laying down on the bed when she should be getting her pajamas on, taking a ridiculous amount of time to pick out pajamas, dropping the dirty clothes on the floor instead of putting them in the hamper, asking WHY DO I HAVE TO GO? when I was told to go potty, saying, I CAN'T DO IT! IT'S TOO DIFFICULT! when asked to brush my teeth, looking at myself in the mirror when Jenna was brushing my teeth, clamping down on the toothbrush, spitting and making a mess in the sink, wanting them to lay down with me before I go to sleep, complaining about bug bites itching, and then after they finally go me tucked into bed, a few moments later I got up and told them I wasn't really tired.
Michaela got such a kick out of watching me that she made Dan play her (minus the getting jammies on). And he played it to the hilt. It was brilliant.
Brilliant.
After we were all done, I talked to both of them. "So, what do you think?" I asked them.
And they smiled.
"That was hard," they said. (AHA! Understanding! Victory is MINE!)
And then Michaela added:
"But we want to do it again tomorrow!"

Alec has had some steady gains in the language development department. His receptive vocab is pretty impressive, he has started to say an approximation of his own name (which sounds like a open-mouthed version of the word AWK), and is babbling a lot. His articulation is not great and he really seems to struggle in that area. He has learned to say "Aw, man!" from Dora and will put up his little hand and garble something to the effect of "Swiper, no swiping!" (Michaela said, "Shep, no shep!" for years and we still say it to her every once in a while.) He loves pointing to the trucks and airplanes and motorcycles in one of his books and has consistent sounds for each that are single syllables.

Alec has learned the connection between DVDs and the DVD player and now constantly hands me DVDs to put in. He then watches the first 10-15 minutes of a movie and then gets another one for me to put in. In heavy rotation are Yogi Bear, Tangled, The Backyardigans' Surf's Up, and Diego's Animal Rescue. When he watches Diego, and the camera in the show asks, "Is THIS the pygmy marmoset?" Alec always answers, "Noooooo!" He says that to no matter what question Click asks. It's very cute if you're his mom.

Michaela started another soccer season this past Saturday. She picked out awesome new cleats that are neon yellow and bright purple and look very professional. They look great. She's excited to play again after a break last season and is playing for her usual coach, The Incomparable Coach Tim, who has coached her every season but one since she was 4 years old. Her team color is lime green and looks great with her cleats.

I signed up to be Alec's Toddler Sunday School class teacher, and we were the only ones in the class on Sunday. Made for an easy lesson! My Girl Scout Troop is on it's way and we'll maybe have our first meeting at the end of this month. Half of the girls in the troop are named Emma. I'm not kidding.

I went grocery shopping with only one child this morning for the first time since June. It was heavenly.

I went to Hobby Lobby yesterday with my mom and let me tell you, they have THREE SHELVES OF PILGRIM FIGURINES. And that's all I have to say about that.

Dan is slammed at work with claims from Hurricane Irene. He was supposed to take last week off but had to cancel his vacation because of the amount of work to be done. Now he gets to take a week off almost every month from now until January. He is VERY happy that it is fall and that means he soon will not have to mow the lawn every week. We don't have any leaves to rake, either, so once the grass stops growing, he's done for the season. I am making a long Fall/ Winter Honey-Do list for around the house- things we've lived with for the past year but would like to remedy.

I bought apple crisp topping at the store today. Cant wait to make my first batch.

Speaking of Walmart, let me wrap up with this story:
I shopped for the week and had about $175 in groceries. I bring my own bags, because I love my earth and all that, and I piled them on top of my stuff. About 3/4 of the way through the check out, I realize that my checker has not put any of my items in my bags, instead choosing to stack all of my items (in categories that made sense in her head but not mine) on the carousel where the plastic bags lay. When she was done ringing me up, she applied hand sanitizer and then told me, "I hate reusable bags! I sliced my hand right open on one because someone left a RAZOR BLADE in there!" and then proceeds to tell me that sentence again exactly as she just had. I said very lightly, "Well, my bags are empty! No razor blades in there!" and smiled helpfully. She went on to tell me, as she struggled to pack my bags, that she hates to bag things because "it has to be perfect" and she dislikes "stacking groceries on top of one another." And I again say lightly, "Oh, that's okay, I'm just going right home from here..." and while I'm saying that, she shows me the bag she's packed and says, "See? Everything's STANDING UP!" And I see that my bag is indeed filled on the bottom but only about 20% full with all canned items that are standing up, and while it fit her OCD proclivities, it would have taken about 40 more bags to carry all of my items out of the store. So I took matters into my own hands (after complimenting her for her lovely packing job) and just threw the rest of her piles into my bags. Enough's enough.

First Day of School: First and Fifth Grade Edition.

2011-09-08T09:35:00.004-04:00

Happy First Day of School!

Everything went smooth as silk this morning

and I am thrilled to report that both of our nervously excited girls are

back in their classrooms.

Alec wanted to be in the Back to School Photo Shoot...

and that evil-looking grimace is his "posing for the camera" smile.

New clothes, new sneaks, and a new messenger bag for Michaela.

Here's to an adventure-filled year!

A Suggestion for Brian Williams and John F. Harris.

2011-09-02T11:51:00.002-04:00

So here I am, doing one of my least favorite chores: cleaning my bathrooms. It's gross and sweaty and takes a fair amount of time to do it right. Coming face to face with the messy habits of my four favorite people in the world, right in my face, is just something I never look forward to. But I do it and after it's done, I do have a sense of relief and pride that it looks much better than when I started.

As I was cleaning this morning, I was thinking of the humbling act of service that cleaning the toilet is. And how if you don't have to clean toilets, either your own or someone else's, you are missing out on a key experience that grounds and connects us all as humans.

So I am proudly introducing the Libutti Reality Scale, which is an easy question to ask someone running for public office. Sure, you may know if they are Democrat or Republican, liberal or conservative, and where they stand on a number of issues ranging from the economy, security and jobs to immigration, the environment, and social issues.

But when is the last time they've cleaned a bathroom?

Because if it's been over a year, then I'm sorry: you are living in a different reality than I am.

If you want to tell me you understand my issues and my life, and you are going to represent me in a body of government, you'd better have swished and swirled some type of cleaner in the past year. Because if you haven't, than you have not come face to face with the grossness of humans. You have been protected. And that's a luxury.

Just to be clear: I have nothing against people with house cleaners. If I came into a little bit of money, the first thing I would do is hire a maid or housekeeper. But one has to understand that by delegating this job to someone else, one has taken a step (a pleasant step, but a step nonetheless) away from the experience of most Americans. And that puts a little wall between you and me.

Now, maybe that's not a big deal. It certainly doesn't make someone more or less fit to serve. And I am a big believer that I don't want ordinary people representing me, I want extraordinary people representing me.

But I think this can be a helpful tool for those trying to make thoughtful decisions about future leaders.

So I am graciously offering the Libutti Reality Scale as a suggestion to the moderators of the upcoming Republican debate next Wednesday.

For clarity's sake, it is a three-point scale:
Level 1: I have cleaned a bathroom in the past year.
Level 2: I have cleaned a bathroom in the past 10 years.
Level 3: It has been over 10 years OR I have never cleaned a bathroom.

The higher the number, the less you are living the same reality as mine and that of most of your soon-to-be constituents. If you are a Level 1 AND are running for President, that is strongly in your favor.

You are real.

Book Reviews: What I Read This Summer.

2011-08-29T15:43:00.002-04:00

Here's a quick rundown of what I've picked up and liked this summer during our faithful weekly trips to the library:

1. The Art of Racing in the Rain: story of a family told from the point of view of the dog. Quick, soulful, and touching.

2. Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King: I love King and this didn't disappoint. Four short stories all with the common thread of the stranger within us. The stories are dark, so dark they are almost funny in spots, and superbly written.

3. Little Heathens: A memoir written by a woman who lived as a girl in rural Iowa during the Great Depression. It gives a vivid description of everyday life; activities, food, farming, chores, and school are all discussed and explained at length. Not the best written book I've ever read, but pretty interesting.

4. House Rules by Jodi Piccoult: Solid book from a well-loved author. This was about an 18 year old boy with Aspergers' who is accused of murder. Each chapter was told from the point of view of a different character, which I like.

5. World Made by Hand and The Witch of Hebron, both by James Howard Kunstler: Go to the library TODAY and get out these books. They tell a story of the near future in which our society- government, media, institutions, everything- has collapsed due to world events and all imports have stopped. That means no oil, no cars, no trains, no planes. Electricity is at first spotty and then ceases to come on all together. Medicine is scarce and antibiotics have disappeared, and a Mexican virus has swept through most towns, effectively halving the population. How does life go on? What does it look like? The story takes place in a small village just north of here, and there are many local landmarks mentioned, and focuses on how people learn new skills and learn to work together to re-form a community. It's like living in the 1800's but with the knowledge of what you COULD have and what you doing without. The Witch of Hebron is a sequel (and I didn't like it quite as much because it was a little more far-fetched and science-fiction-y, but it was interesting) and I am hoping for another book to come out as well.

The books are reasonably well-written, with a few hiccups here and there, but I was completely mesmerized by the idea of going back to that way of life. I was also pretty terrified about what skills I do and don't have that would help my family survive. I read this book a few weeks ago and it has really stuck with me. I think the author wrote a non-fiction book, The Long Emergency, warning about how this could happen and then wrote this fictionalized account of how it would all play out. Really, really interesting.

6. Lincoln Lawyer: Really good story about an attorney who practices out of his Lincoln and defends a man whom he firsts thinks is guilty, then is convinced he's actually innocent. Lots of twists and turns. So good I had Dan read it after me.

7. Books I passed on... Atlas Shrugged: I looked for this for weeks in my library, and then when I saw it was about 1000 pages long, I put it back. It's summer, after all. The other book I meant to read was The Great Gatsby but it's always checked out of my library. I also checked out Finn and couldn't get past the first 5 pages.

Have you read anything lately that you loved?

Michaela Libutti: Good Luck Charm.

2011-08-28T13:10:00.005-04:00

As reported by Guest Blogger Dan: On August 25, 2011, Michaela attended her first Yankee game against the Oakland A's with her two grandpas and me.

We left Delmar at 8:45am and headed toward Yankee Stadium picking "Paga" up on the way. We arrived at around 12:00pm and were greeted with torrential downpours. When we walked through the gate Michaela was handed a Beanie Baby named "Dinger" which was given to all fans 14 and under. She was delighted.

We walked around the entire stadium and checked out Monument Park. Michaela could not believe how big it was. Due to the rain the start of the game was delayed by 90 minutes. When the tarp finally came off the field we found our way to section 211 row 3 to get ready for the first pitch and Yankee roll call.

There were on and off showers during the first few innings. The A's scored a run in the first inning and the Yankees answered with Michaela's favorite player Derek Jeter hitting a lead-off triple. He later scored to tie the score at 1. The A's scored again in the second inning and then five runs in the third.

To quote Casey at the Bat, "The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day" as the Yankees were trailing 7-1. I told Michaela she might be a bad luck charm for the Yankees which she quickly dismissed. I knew there was still a lot of baseball left to play and I was hopeful things would turn around for Michaela's first game.

Michaela asked to get an ice cream in a Yankee helmet. After we secured the ice cream she informed me that she really only wanted the helmet to put on "Dinger". This turned out to be the turning point of the day.

The rain finally stopped and Russell Martin hit a solo home run in the bottom of the fourth inning to make the score 7-2.

In the bottom of the fifth inning Robinson Cano (Michaela's second favorite player) hit a grand slam, and just like that, the home team was right back in the game trailing 7-6.

In the bottom of the sixth inning following a hit by pitch, a walk, a wild pitch, and an intentional walk the bases were once again loaded. This time Russell Martin stepped back up to the plate. In the words of Yankee broadcaster John Sterling, "Russell showed muscle" and hit the Yankees' second grand slam of the game. The Yankees took the lead 10-7.

The Yankees scored 6 more runs in the seventh inning. After the A's scored a run the eighth inning the Yankees prepared to make history. In the bottom of the eighth inning with the based loaded, Curtis Granderson stepped to the plate. When Curtis deposited that ball into the right center field seats history was made. In the 136th year of MLB the Yankees became the first team in major-league history to hit three grand slams in a game.

After witnessing history, being in the stadium for almost 7 hours, and the Yankees leading 22-8 we asked Michaela if she was ready to leave. We explained that we could beat some of the other remaining die-hards of out the stadium and get on the road as it would already be late when we got home. Michaela replied "No way, we're staying until the end! I want to see them shake hands in the infield like they do on TV."

Our seats were in the third row of the middle level. Once we decided to stay, Michaela noticed that the two rows in front of us had cleared out and asked to go sit in the first row near the railing. The first two batters of the ninth inning hit doubles and one run scored. The next batter was David DeJesus. With Luis Ayala pitching, DeJesus hit a high foul ball that as heading right at a 9-year old girl, wearing her Derek Jeter shirt and purple Yankee hat sitting in section 211 row 1. I, still sitting two rows back, yelled "Michaela, it's coming right at you!" She ducked, the ball hit the seat to her right, trickled along the ground and then she pounced on it. Right in front of my eyes my little girl had a MLB game ball- a souvenir that only a small handful of fans leave a game with. The Yankees got the final three outs and Michaela got to see the Yankees shake hands in the middle of the infield with New York, New York playing.

What a magical day.

I have been to many baseball games over the years but to see this one through Michaela's eyes was so special and a day I will not forget for a long time. I don't remember my first Yankee game but I'm sure Michaela "The Good Luck Charm" will remember hers.

Family Time.

2011-08-24T14:30:00.004-04:00

My brother and his wife and their two girls just spent a fun-filled week with us here in NY. Here are some highlights of their visit:

1. Besides celebrating my mom's birthday, Brian and Beth gave Michaela her birthday present a little early: her own set of hot rollers, clips, hairspray and a new brush. Michaela has wanted these items for years after seeing Aunt Bethie curl her own hair with them, and Michaela was over the moon with happiness. The next day we started practicing with the curlers and have been able to fine tune the process a bit. And let me add that there have been days that Michaela has curled her hair THREE SEPARATE TIMES. In one day. Of course, like any good big sister, she has also done Jenna's hair and Jenna has also enjoyed that immensely. I am seeing my future of messy, spray-laden, clip-filled bathrooms develop before my eyes. Thank goodness we moved to a house that the girls have their own bathroom. (But poor Alec.)

2. We celebrated my mom's birthday in grand style with a steak dinner with fixin's at our house, followed by cake and presents. We can't remember the last time we were all together for my mom's birthday. It was a great evening and the kids had a great time. She said it was her best birthday ever.

3. Of course, the REAL reason my mom was so thrilled was that the night before we had staged the Christmas card picture for my parents and this is what we got: a great shot of my two parents beaming with their five grandchildren, trying to keep all those wriggling, happy kids from bolting off the couch. We took about 100 pictures, but don't worry: the kids were TOTALLY able to see again in a few hours after being blinded by the camera flashes.

4. Alec's reaction was this: MORE GIRL COUSINS? Where are all the BOYS in this family? Though we did notice that he pretty readily accepted the hugs and kisses that Megan generously doled out to him. And for Alec, that's a big deal. He's not really very huggy and kissy. But she was a-okay in his eyes.

5. Jenna and Kate had a grand old time, swimming, jumping in, getting out and eating Klondike bars together for hours on end.

6. Nothing's better than Tickling hot dogs from Gammie. Meggie was mesmerized. 7. The playground was a big hit with all the kids. We played and swung and climbed and even flew a kite for a while all together.

And this doesn't even scratch the surface: the girls went to Lake Placid with everyone for a day and Michaela hiked up a mountain, much to her delight (and my shock that she didn't complain at all), we enjoyed an adult-only dinner with Dan and I and Brian and Beth while my parents survived babysitting all five kids (though we jokingly suggested going out to a fancy dinner an hour or two away and that was immediately shot down... "How about a nice place, you know, IN TOWN?", my mom asked), we had a night of Delmar Delights: buckets of wings from My Place and pizzas from New Village Deli, and a fun hot tub night where Brian and Beth came over after the kids all went to bed and the four of us sat in a warm hot tub until after midnight drinking adult beverages. Great times. We also talked about my return trip to Chicago by myself in the fall, with a day with Brian AND a shopping day with Bethie. Because that's only fair.

I think the visit accomplished exactly what we wanted it to: to give our five kids time to be together, get to know each other, play together and make memories together... and we adults had a great time, too.

Butterfly Garden.

2011-08-09T14:32:00.003-04:00

Last week the kids and I made our annual trip to a local butterfly garden, which is hosted by an area middle school, complete with middle-school -aged volunteer guides who take you around and have memorized their script so well that they recite it about 10 times too fast for you to really be able to hear any of it. But they are adorable, and earnest, and the garden is fairly small, and it's a perfect kid-friendly activity. Unfortunately, I always seem to pick a day with 400% humidity to go, so we are all dripping with sweat and more than a little plant-and-butterfly-ed out by the time we leave.

It really is lovely.
The garden is filled with Monarch and Swallowtail and Painted Lady butterflies and it's super easy to have the kids put their hands out and catch one, feeling it's gentle legs tickle their fingers.

This picture is one of my favorites I've taken this summer: a shot of Michaela handing a butterfly over to Jenna. I love the way their hands are curled together and how gentle and quiet they had to be to make this a successful transfer... it reminds me that despite the bickering and pouting and she said/she said of the last six weeks of near constant summertime togetherness, the girls can be quiet and still and work together for the greater good. I also feel like I know those hands as well as I know my own and love looking at them.

You'll notice that Alec is conspicuously absent from these lovely pictures... he was occupying himself by pushing his own stroller, bumping into kids, adults, plants, butterflies, netted fencing and generally making a complete nuisance of himself. By the time we left, he was screaming and I was carrying him sideways, commando-style.

Need I mention that he will be two next month?

No, I didn't think so.

We all know how that goes.

August, Already.

2011-08-03T15:07:00.003-04:00

Hello, August! I am always so happy to see you. You are a happy time of year, the height of summer, when the newness of being constantly outside has worn off and you can have lazy days of doing nothing if you want. You are the harbinger of fall, and back to school, and my favorite season ( Harvest Toile!!! Harvest Toile!!) coming up soon. You are all about planning and organizing for the school year, buying new backpacks and sneakers and jeans and composition notebooks. (Ohhhh, the composition notebooks... I have bought SO MANY composition notebooks in the last three years, and have many, many more to buy in the years ahead...)
You are also the month of my mom's birthday, which is always fun to celebrate.
When I was a babysitter for my neighbor's sons (who are now in their late twenties, at least), they had a wonderful book about the months of the year on a farm. It was beautifully illustrated and of course I loved it because it was all farm-y, and harkened back to my former life as a Pilgrim. I loved the description of the month for August, all about the dog days of summer and being lazy and the sense of time somehow standing still -or at least slowing down- in the heat,when everyone napped under shady trees and drank lemonade. I have looked for years for that book and have never found it.
Usually it is at the end of August that I see the first couple of leaves change color.

You are the month of vacations and get aways, of day trips and amusement parks, of sweet corn on the cob and home grown tomatoes. We are not going to the Cape this year, but will be going next summer, and I am already looking forward to it. (I recently read an article that said that a great deal of the fun of a vacation is the anticipation, and I can totally understand that. I am a master anticipator. I can look forward to anything. Heck, I even ordered CHRISTMAS WRAPPING PAPER this afternoon.)

The school vacation is officially more than half over, and the girls go back to school on September 8th. We have a whole lot of fun to pack in before then, including a visit from my brother and his family, but we can do it. Michaela is going to Vacation Bible School this week, drama camp next week, and Quilt camp the week after that. Jenna is enjoying playdates with her school friends and some neighbor girls and hanging around at home. We are swimming at my parents' pool, enjoying downtime in the afternoon while Alec naps, and playing outside after dinner.

Last night at dusk we flew a kite for the first time with Alec and he laughed right from his belly as he held the string. We were in a huge open field and the sun was setting behind some big, fluffy clouds and I felt so blessed to have clean air and open space and three healthy kids and a husband to share it all with. A wonderful memory of summer with little children.

Welcome, August. I've waited all year to see you.

Warning: This is NOT A Funny Post.

2011-07-29T15:16:00.002-04:00

I am a strong believer in the Holy Spirit; specifically, the strong ability the Holy Spirit has to arrange one's life so a message is given in a way that you would have to be deaf, blind or really, really in denial to NOT get the message. I have gotten many, many messages from God over the years, some quietly, some banged over my head, some big, some small, and I recently got a message that was so carefully constructed, so methodically put together, that I just couldn't miss it.

It's a message about the human spirit and surviving after loss, and though I try not to preach or be too heavy here in my little corner of the Internet, I feel like it is a message worth sharing.

It all started about five or six weeks ago, when I had the worst of all trifectas: three people I knew died in one week- two in one day- all by different journeys. One was sick for years with cancer, a mom of children my age, a woman I had known since I was a teenager, who had celebrated every milestone of my life with me and my family. Her loss was crushing in itself, but there was time to say goodbye and provide comfort, time to plan and talk and grieve the loss that was facing all of us who knew and loved her. She was so ill that there was a sense of relief for her, because her faith was so strong, and she had blessed release from her human body's frailties.

One was killed in a motorcycle accident, senselessly, when a car turned right in front of the motorcycle rider, cutting him off. He died from his injuries soon after. The guy on the motorcycle was the father of a classmate of Michaela's, an only child, from all reports a great guy and devoted father.

One was killed suddenly in a self-inflicted manner. He was married, a father of almost-grown boys, and was the spouse of a person I worked with and loved dearly in a former life.

I came face to face with the surviving families in that one week, some holding it together better than others, all in shock, all devastated with pain and grief and loss. And what can you say except I am so, so sorry? How I wish I could have changed the path they were on, to somehow have the power to heal the broken bodies and broken hearts of these people who died and those who were left behind! Because I felt it so strongly in each of these families: a sense of loss and pain so great that it permeated the hugs I gave them and the tears we all wiped away. It was...staggering. I fumbled through, sent all the cards, said the prayers, attended the wakes, did all the things our society does to form a loving circle around those in mourning.

And then I thought of the next week. And the next week. And the week after that, when the pain and grief are still there, but the other people have started moving on with their lives.

And I went on with my life, but the Holy Spirit wasn't done with me yet.

Then I came across an article written about the absolutely horrific car accident on the Taconic Parkway a year ago, when all three daughters of one family, riding with their aunt in the car, were killed in a head-on crash. The driver- the aunt- was drunk and high. The girls were similar ages to my three kids and all I could think of for weeks afterwards was the loss of being a mom- not just losing one child, or two, but all three and not being a mom anymore, and how quiet that house must be now. I had a hard time for a while letting my kids go anywhere without me, thinking I had some sort of control over things like this occurring.

The article I read was written by the mom of these girls and explains how she has managed to cope for this year, and how she has managed to get out of bed- not every day, but some days- and just breathe every day. It was about survival.

Then, a book was given to me in a chance encounter at the library, a book called Every Last One by Anna Quinlan, in which a busy mom of three teenagers suddenly becomes a widow and the mom of only one child after an intruder comes into their home and kills the husband and two of the children. The third was away on a ski trip which saved his life. The mom was attacked and left for dead. The book really affected me, particularly the chapters after the tragedy, because it gave the same sense of wandering, sense of being lost, that the article had described.

As one grows up and grows older, and experiences more examples of losing loved ones, losing friends, losing acquaintances, I think two things happen: you better understand that these kind of things happen to everyone, and it hurts just as much every time, and you come to understand that the human spirit to survive and go on is stronger than you think. Even when the unthinkable happens, you still go grocery shopping and brush your teeth and pay some bills and talk to a few friends. You watch television. You write an email. You eat. You see a movie.

And while there are bad days, terrible days when all you can do is cry and feel anguish and wail about the unfairness of it all, trying to answer the question of WHY this happened, and feel anger and disappointment and pain and grief and emptiness and rage, there are other days when those feelings are softer, and less sharp.

Many times, in the middle of the night, when I am at my most irrational, I play a mind game- what would I do if Dan suddenly stopped breathing beside me? What if one of my children didn't wake up one morning? What would that be like? And I think it's a self-protecting game, one that I play because I feel like if I think about it, it somehow protects me from having something like this really happen and it protects me from it being such a shock. Which is clearly ridiculous.

And at the same time, I feel an incredible sense of frailty that this family we have made and nurtured, this life I have made for myself is built on this terrible shaky ground, where only by the grace of God does it stay together and safe and whole and healthy. The sovereignty of God, who can decide in an instant to take it all away. But that threat of loss doesn't keep me from loving and caring and emotionally investing fully and completely in my spouse and children. These are the gifts I have been given, and I will revel in them.

The bottom line, for me at least, is this: the Holy Spirit has sent me a message and it tells me that we are stronger than we realize and can take pain and loss. We are made in God's image, after all. We can go on.

And God is with us, to provide the strength and power when we are rendered powerless.

A Few Jenna Stories to Keep You Entertained.

2011-07-25T15:32:00.002-04:00

First: The kids and I were riding in the car the other day and to pass the time, Michaela read a story from the Highlights Magazine to us. (Ohhhh, Highlights: how I love you, with your Hidden Pictures and Thinking questions and bite-sized stories. I love every page. Even the weird Timber people. And Goofus and Gallant! They were moral barometers for my whole childhood! Gallant always so genteel and people-pleasing and uptight, with his smoothed down side-parted hair, and Goofus was the rebel with the mussed hair who didn't care what the hell anyone else thought, he did what HE WANTED TO DO and all others be damned. SO exhilarating to read about someone so callous to the rules. Years after Brian and I outgrew Highlights magazine, our family made up horrifyingly extreme Goofus and Gallant comparisons and always laughed at the obviousness of them- Goofus smokes crack with homeless people, while Gallant serves them a hot lunch. Of course, don't you think his parents set him up a bit by naming him Goofus? Did they discipline him? Say, "Goofus, what are we going to DO with you?" They always looked so shocked in the vignettes at his bad behavior. Did they see the pattern? Even I at six years old knew that Goofus was bad news, he was always going to screw something up, but his parents, who certainly saw him more than my once-a-month encounters, didn't seem to supervise him very well. But I digress. When I was a kid and my mom went through the Highlights magazine with me, besides the wonderful cozy feeling of being together, my favorite memory of the experience is my mom very proudly telling me, with great confidence, that I was a way better artist than all the kids who had submitted work. And if there was a particularly good piece of artwork published, she scoffed at the idea that the artist was the age they stated. "No 8-year-old could draw THAT!" she would huff. "Besides, you could draw ten times better than that." My mom is by far my greatest cheerleader.)

So the story was about two brothers going on a long car trip, and the younger brother had broken a toy of the older brother's earlier in the week. The older brother didn't want any other of his things ruined, so he placed a long strip of blue tape down the middle of the backseat of the car, separating the boys and their toys. Of course, after a while, the boys get bored in the car and realize that sharing their toys not only is fun, it makes the car ride go so much faster. It was really cute.

So we're all Awwwww...ing about the story and Jenna, without missing a beat, very helpfully says, "You know, Mimi, WE should put a line of tape down the middle of our backseat like the boys did!" And Michaela and I crack up and gently explain that the whole point of the story is to show that playing together and sharing really works best.

"Ohhhhhhh!" Jenna smiles and giggles.

Second: Jenna has been waking up for the last week or so and sneezing an insane amount. Like fifteen or twenty times. And it starts this elaborate routine of coming into our room, wiping her nose, stepping on the pedal garbage can, sneezing again, getting more tissues, wiping her nose, stepping on the garbage can, and sneezing again. It's quite painful to listen to. She refuses to blow her nose ("Because I don't know HOW!" Really?) and just waits for huge candlesticks of snot to shoot from her nose, drip down her nightgown and then she starts to panic. And sneeze some more. It takes a good twenty minutes to go through the whole process.

She insists that she is getting a cold, which she is not, and I finally told her that I think it is allergies of some kind because it is only for a few minutes in the morning and just started happening. "Something is bothering your nose in the morning," I told her. "It could be anything: grass or dust or a certain flower that is blooming."

"I think I know what it is," she told me. "I think I am allergic to turning the TV on and then walking away from it and not watching it. That makes me sneeze."

"Well, I don't think that's quite it," I say gently. "It's usually something in nature or outside that irritates you."

Jenna thinks about this for awhile and then has one more guess:

"Well, I also think I'm allergic to talking to people for a long time."

And I laugh and laugh, because talking to people for a long time has clearly irritated her since birth.

Scenes of summer.

2011-07-19T14:31:00.004-04:00

Pictures taken at Lake Taconic, our Town Park's Splash Islands (where Alec started by touching the fountains with one finger and by the end of the afternoon was thoroughly soaked), a friend's house, and Gammie and PopPop's pool. The sunset was a breathtaking display outside our front door on the day we came home from Lake Taconic.

We're having a great summer.

Bits of July.

2011-07-11T13:58:00.003-04:00

Well, summer is in full swing here at the Libutti house... which means I've got three little tanned people meandering around my house 24/7 looking for "something to do." And eating snacks. Lots and lots of snacks. And drinks. All I do is load, run, and unload the dishwasher.

Other happenings around here...

- Jenna was quite impressed with the displays people put up of bunting for the 4th of July and seemed to really like just saying the word "bunting". And conjugated it like this: "Look, Mommy! Those people bunted!"

- We've had quite a rash of after-bedtime ailments popping up, including suddenly-appearing sunburn ("It really BURNS!"), multiple bugbite inspections ("It really ITCHES!"), growing pains in the legs ("It's really SORE!"), and my personal favorite, a stinging and itchy eyelid ("It really HURTS!"). Thankfully, I learned in Mommy School that cool, wet paper towels applied to all of these ailments does the trick. Some of the stories told to me are so preposterous that I turn to Michaela or Jenna and calmly say, What exactly do you want me to do at 9pm about that?

- Alec has been taking naps in his crib- instead of me sitting on the couch holding him- for about a month now. IT IS REVOLUTIONARY. First of all, I feel like I get a nice break during the day; secondly, I can get something accomplished; thirdly, my brain is no longer rotting from watching several hours of tv every afternoon; fourthly, he sleeps an insane amount of time. Like, four hours. Sometimes I have to wake him up. Seriously. He also has started going to bed awake and stops whimpering before I even leave the room. When I think of how many hundreds of hours I held my babies until they've fallen asleep... but then again, I love holding sleeping babies. That's how this all started.

- On a related note, I had a dream last night that I went to an OB appointment and found out I was preggers, but left without asking when my due date would be. I guess by the fourth baby, you're really laid back about that sort of thing. But I am NOT pregnant.

- I have come to the conclusion that the most under appreciated job I have is of family press secretary/ head of communications. I spend an insane amount of time emailing, facebooking, calling, and talking with my family, friends, and playmates of my kids, cultivating and maintaining relationships with the people in our life that we love. If women didn't take on this role, families would have no friends to socialize with and would not be as close to their family members. Once I became conscious of it, I started mentally keeping track, and I am amazed at how much time it takes and how little it is noticed or how it is passed off as Mommy Time. No, not really- remembering important dates, events, and asking how something went is not just for my benefit- it's for the whole family. Moms, especially, are so immersed in social contacts, and I wish there was a more formalized way to thank them for the efforts they put into fostering close relationships that the whole family benefits from.

- Michaela has Girl Scout camp this week, and goes from 8am til 5pm. I am frankly shocked at how much I miss her today.

- We went to Lake Taconic yesterday and met Dan's whole family there, which was great. We had a wonderful day but got a semi-flat tire on the way home (a skinny strip of the tread pulled away from the car and started slapping the road and the underside of the car). We pulled over on the side of the Taconic Parkway, a big, grassy area in the shade and proceeded to change the very first tire of my life. Dan of course had done it before- they learn that in Man School, apparently- but I kept giggling and thinking of the famous tire changing scene with Ralphie and the dad from A Christmas Story. I'm pretty sure that at one point, when I had to hand Dan the lug nuts to secure the spare onto the car, I said, Ohhhhhhh..... fuuuuuuudge.... but Dan, who was sweating and dirty and nervous that the car was going to fall off the jack and kill us, didn't appreciate my humorous reference. And just like the Dad in the movie, we timed ourselves and from start to finish, we gauge it took us about 20 minutes. Not bad. And the Queen Mother of all swear words was not even close to being uttered.

- I am very close to forming my own Daisy Girl Scout troop for Jenna. I am really excited about it. Just have to confirm my assistant Troop leader and I am good to go.

- Michaela and I started a project to make a scrapbook album that is all about school. We will put her school pictures and class picture in it, along with some candid shots from times that they have a little performance or some kind of party or event. On Friday afternoon I sat down and went through years of digital pictures of Michaela's first days of school, Christmas programs, moving up celebrations, and the like. It was a great trip down memory lane for me... and the shock of seeing Michaela at Jenna's age, knowing that Alec will be that age before too long, made me all misty-eyed. Because it seems like that little girl with the pudgy cheeks and curly hair is gone from me now, replaced by this angular, straight haired girl, who is the same but different. I remember that when Michaela turned about 2, I started forgetting when and where each picture was taken, like my brain is a memory disc that got filled up and had to start rewriting itself.
You can look at these pictures, and know it is your child, but it is your child of that moment, not the child of now, and that child in the picture is gone and can't return.
It's a little mourning, looking at these pictures, even though you have the luxury of still hugging and kissing and loving your kids. On the other hand, there is such a richness to living all these years more with your children, seeing them older and more mature, with more developed personalities and interacting with you, a more mature and developed parent. You have more history, and both parent and child have grown together.

- Alec has started shaking and nodding his head, and I am always a little surprised when he answers me, because I am used to my questions merely being rhetorical to him.

- All three of the kids love love watching Bubble Guppies in the morning, but Michaela has pointed out that Mr. Grouper, their teacher, doesn't seem to be very prepared to teach them. "When one of the Bubble Guppies comes in to the classroom and suggests a topic, Mr. Grouper always goes along with it. He never says, No, I was planning on learning about _____ today. He never has, like, a lesson plan." Astute observation, Mimi.

- Current popular foods at the Libutti house: Hershey bars, strawberries, cheese sticks, tacos, Ritz Crackerfuls, fruity Cheerios, and of course, watermelon. Newly rejected: pizza, meatballs, steak, and mozzarella bites. (It's like they don't even know they're Italian...)

- I just finished a book called Caleb's Crossing, and it was utterly magnificent. It was about the first Wampanaug Indian from Martha's Vineyard who went to Harvard back in the 1660's. And as you well know, I was a Pilgrim in my former life so much of the book was very familiar to me. It was written by Geraldine Brooks, who wrote Year of Wonders and People of the Book, both excellent, thoughtful reads.

- There is nothing like getting 5 yards of mulch delivered to your house to truly appreciate the "joy of home ownership". Spreading it almost killed both of us. But it looks great all freshened up.

- We went over to my parent's house on Saturday to go swimming. We went without calling first, which we almost never do, and found their house empty when we got there. Using all my detective skills honed from watching an episode of Dateline NBC the evening before. we deduced that they were probably out to dinner with some friends. After they came home, we filled them in on our detective work and my mom somehow said something about (I can barely type this) how it was good that we didn't catch them in an intimate moment.

"Frankly, it would be less horrifying to come over here unannounced and find you DEAD than interrupting you two DOING IT," I told her.

Fantastic Fourth, Part II.

2011-07-06T15:50:00.005-04:00

Some more pictures from the weekend...

Fantastic Fourth.

2011-07-06T15:09:00.003-04:00

Looking back through the pictures from this weekend, they have an uber-Americana quality to them: all reds, whites, and blues; pictures of family and happy kids and parades and swimming pools and fireworks.

And any party or picture that has a cake that looks like this marks a GOOD weekend in my book. My cousin Tammie made it and it was delicious.

This is a piece of evidence marking how utterly lax in rules my parents are with their grandchildren. Really? Eating ice cream IN THE POOL? What about the one hour rule? What about eating over a plate? What about NO EATING IN THE POOL?

I love how the chocolate makes a goatee on Alec's face.

The day started off with a parade in our neighborhood, complete with fire truck and decorated bicycles. The parade ends in the cul de sac down the street from my parents' house that is blocked off and a huge picnic ensues. Hamburgers, hot dogs, chips, snowcones- REAL snow cones, loud music, tents, tables and chairs, rock climbing walls, multiple bouncy bounces, facepainting and coolers full of drinks and beer (as my dad said,"Whoo-hoo! Now you're talkin'!") and over a hundred people milling around made for a very, very nice and fun event. Which I didn't get to really enjoy because Alec had a potent (but thankfully rare) meltdown about 15 minutes after we arrived, so we walked to my parents' house and watched SpongeBob. And SpongeBob soothes everything.

My parents hosted a great family picnic at their house in the afternoon, where everyone ate and was merry and Michaela jumped in and out of the pool about a billion times.

We left from there to go to friends of ours' house about 25 minutes away- they live waaaaay up on top of a huge hill and can see the fireworks from their front yard. Actually, they are so far up they can see multiple displays of fireworks from their front yard. When things got cooking at about 9:20pm, we were watching three if not four different displays, flashes of light shooting up from trees at various angles.

I took lots of pictures of the view and the yard and since it was getting dark, lots of the images of the kids running around are blurry; they had different glowstick configurations- headbands, necklaces, bracelets- and they would move past me as I was taking the picture with the glowing things leaving a trail behind them. As a result, all my pictures have a kind of otherworldly vibe to them, smeary and dusky and beautiful. The sunset was so gorgeous there, and the views so wide open... it was breathtaking.

(Note to my brother Brian: This is on Powell Hill, across from the Roberts' old house looking towards Albany on the right horizon.)

The day was capped with a visit from the Tooth Fairy as Jenna got bonked in the mouth by her brother earlier in the day and by dinner time decided she would just yank the tooth out herself. Seriously... I would not mess with this girl. The next morning, she came jubilantly into our bedroom, showing me the two dollars and she says to me, "Guess what?? The Tooth Fairy even SIGNED MY DOLLAR!" and shows me Timothy F. Geithner's signature in the lower right hand corner of the dollar. "Look-- it says TINY FAIRY!" she shows me triumphantly.

God Bless America, indeed.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame.

2011-06-28T15:20:00.003-04:00

Michaela took the plunge this spring and decided to give softball a try. And she loved it. And we loved it.
Actually, I'm fairly certain we loved watching her play even more than she actually enjoyed playing.
We apparently joined at just the right moment: before the other girls got so good that a newbie would really stand out, and after the girls who play progressed far enough in their skills to actually finishing a game in two hours. We've heard stories of younger girls taking two hours to play two innings. I'm a baseball fan, but that's just painful.
The Softball Gods smiled on us and Michaela was randomly placed on a team with fantastic coaches who actually won the League Championship last season. The team this season was very good as well, and Michaela's team only lost two games the whole season.

Michaela played a lot of third base and outfield. And only had to be reminded a few times to not talk to the shortstop during the inning. At least she didn't do cartwheels in the outfield like I did when we played wiffle ball at home with my brother, dad, and cousins. That really drove them crazy.

Offensively, she held her own: most games she made contact with the ball, and had a handful of RBIs for the season. Not bad for her first time out. In the last game, she hit a towering shot that would have been a triple but, alas, she was sent home and tagged out by a catcher who easily had 25 pounds on her. But she did bring home one of the two runs that game. I was hoarse by the end of the game from screaming, "RUN!!!", Jenny-style from Forrest Gump. She is pretty fast and with some additional seasons and practice under her belt, can become a small-but-mighty force.

This past Sunday was the final game, awards ceremony and celebratory picnic. Here's her team accepting their first-place trophies for the Junior Division. They were very excited. I was really proud of them.

The whole experience brought back many awesome memories of watching my brother play Little League, Babe Ruth and school baseball. He was a tremendous player, always making things happen on the field, and so fun to watch and cheer for. I had forgotten the thrill of being down in runs in the last inning with two outs, and watching a player (even better if it's a player you are related to) hit a blast over the infield and cheering the runner on. So exhilarating.

But now the season is over and we are back to our normal routine. Michaela says she's going to adopt a Fall-soccer, Spring-softball sports schedule, but we are desperately trying to convince her to also play fall ball, which is four weekends of Sunday doubleheaders. Does it get any better than THAT??

So congrats to Michaela, her coaches and her team, all who did a magnificent job. You have a lot to be proud of.

A Birthday Letter to My Daughter, Forty Days Late.

2011-06-22T16:11:00.004-04:00

Dearest Jenna,
How quickly this year has flown by: looking back, this will be the turning point, I think, to when I really began to Lose Track of Time and that is why this letter is so late. I apologize, and fully believe that if you read this blog, which you will someday, you would have gently chastised me in your no-nonsense fashion. You have been a miraculously wonderful kid during this year, rarely needing any type of punishment or correction, just lots of love and reassurance and, occasionally, a extra- long snuggle session in your bed at night.

You are a beautiful kid. You have been since the day you were born, gifted with not only those mesmerizing blue eyes, but an aura of sweetness and softness that permeated from you. You have chosen to grow out your hair this year, bangs and all, with the idea of letting it grow to your butt so people can call you Rapunzel. I have started to braid it at night to keep it under control while you sleep, and I think both of us find this nightly ritual of brushing out your hair and tidying it up a comforting one. One last chance to connect before bed.

You have grown like a weed this year, far outpacing your sister, and only 10 pounds separates you two. You are wearing the clothes Michaela wore in second grade and hopefully you won't outgrow them too soon because Michaela is now wearing the clothes you'd grow into. You are tall, taller than most kids in your class, but I still think of you as a petite little bird, fine boned and thin, needing protection.

You enjoyed kindergarten this year and adjusted beautifully to being away from home for the whole day. You were blessed with some of your best friends from Preschool in your class, which made the transition that much easier, and you just blossomed in their friendship. You love these girls, and they love you, and I laugh and marvel at how easily you giggle, hug and absent-mindedly hold hands with them as you walk around the school together, like it's the most natural thing in the world. You loved your teacher, who was a great fit for you, calm and quiet and reassuring and loving, and you learned how to read and do math problems and write. You cried on the last day of school, and I totally understand how you felt: happy to have time off but sad to leave a pleasant routine behind. (Though you did always ask me when you would have a day off, a weekend or vacation time, and did solemnly tell Gammie one day that "Kindergarten is the WORST.")

I feel like I get you because I think you and I are wired similarly, and the points of you I don't see in myself I clearly see in your dad. There is no denying it: you are a true product of your dad and I, cut from our cloth, so to speak, and very rarely, if ever, do we say, "Where did THAT come from?"

Except when you demonstrate the Iron Will of Jenna, the one that could take down entire civilizations in a single swoop.

I am slightly terrified of you, because I am realizing that while your bouncy sister and happy go lucky brother are amenable to boundaries being set (Michaela craves them, to be honest), you seem to take it as a personal affront when I tell you what you can and cannot do. Thankfully, you are a 50 year old woman living in a 6 year old's body, so rarely do I have to really lay down the law- you are remarkably reasonable- but when I do, holy cow. You can throw a fit and argue with me until the death. And keep arguing. And explaining. And telling me what YOU think should happen. And I have learned to hold my ground and Keep Being the Parent, lest we start a bad habit of you winning every argument and thinking you are right all of the time. And trust me, it ain't easy.

You are smart and deep and thoughtful and love extremes. At least once a week you declare "today was the best day EVER!" or "that party was the BEST ONE EVER!" or "this afternoon was the MOST BORING EVER!" and I always marvel at how you so enjoy life. You counted down your birthday month by month until it became weeks and then days until your big day. Then, two weeks afterwards, you started telling people, "I'm six... six and a half, really."

We had a super fun party with your friends and family, and you were thrilled to get Julie, the American Girl doll from your godparents Judy and Bryan.

You had a friends party at The Pottery Place a few weeks later with eight of your girlfriends from school and the neighborhood, and you all painted pieces of pottery like real artists. You wore your birthday crown from school, carefully put aside on your nightstand (you are an amazing mix of intentional neatnik and absolute slob), and looked adorable.

You and your sister remain as thick as thieves, simultaneously loving each other to death and driving each other crazy... you know, the way sisters do. One of the greatest joys of my life is watching you two grow up together, knowing what a bond you have and will always have. And your brother is just as crazy about you, his Nenna, and is constantly seeking your attention and wanting to play with you and show you stuff he has discovered.

You are a joy to behold, a blessing from God, and we just adore you. You have everyone who knows you wrapped around your finger. When you cuddle up on my lap and hug and kiss me, I burst with love for you.

I can hardly wait to see what the next year has to offer you.

You wrote this on the paper covering the table at your birthday party:

And I hope you always will be.

I love you, my sweet Baby Girl.

Love,

Momma

Reasons # 1,067 and #1,068 of How Kids Slowly Kill You.

2011-06-21T15:09:00.002-04:00

1067. Sunday morning, 2:27 am. Michaela creeps into our bedroom.
"Mom!" she whispers.
"What?" I mumble.
"Can you check me for ticks? I'm feeling kind of ... itchy."
Okay, I tell her, only because we have been playing outside in Dutchess County, known for its robust deer tick population.
"Why aren't you moving?" she asks me a few seconds later.
"Because I'm trying to wake up."

The next night Dan tells Michaela, who was thankfully tick-free, to only come into our bedroom again if ticks are literally sucking the blood out of her eyeballs.

1068. Tuesday morning, 7:30am. First, a little background.
Alec has just started in the last month or so sleeping past 5:30am. For almost two years he woke up around the same time, looking for his bottle, and while he would fall fast asleep again, I usually would stay up, enjoying holding my sleeping boy and catch up on news. It was quiet and peaceful and sometimes I would doze on and off until the girls woke up around 7am.
As nice as that was, it is nowhere near as nice as Alec staying asleep and me being able to sleep until 7 am, uninterrupted.
So now the girls wake up first and come and find me in bed, sometimes climbing in and snuggling up for a few minutes before we start the getting ready for school routine. Very sweet.
Michaela asked a few days ago if I could do her hair on the last day of school with wired braids, so she would look like Pippi Longstocking. I gave a lukewarm response, something deliciously non-committal (they teach you how to do this in the hospital after giving birth) and let it go at that.
So here it is, the last day of school, and Michaela comes jumping in my bed at 7:25am. "Hey! Can you do my hair this morning in the braids with the wire? I was going to wake you up at 7 and then thought you might like to sleep a little longer."
"Smart girl," I tell her. "I'll try to do the braids. Go look for the wire."
So I get up, Jenna gets up, Michaela gets up and we head downstairs. Michaela has found the wire with minimal assistance (a miracle in itself) and gets dressed (another miracle) and I sit with the wire and figure out how to do this project. I cut four strands of wire to equal length, put her hair in pigtails, bend the wire so it doesn't poke her in the head, wrap the wire around the underneath part of the pigtail holder. I do a tight, twisty braid and secure the end with another hair tie. I bend the pigtail, and VIOLA- a Pippi Longstocking braid. I repeat the whole process- wire, hair tie, braid, and hair tie- and bend the other end. I have her spin and show me.
She looks adorable.
I am quite pleased with myself.
Go look in the mirror, I tell her.
She goes and looks.
I look ridiculous, she says, and takes the braids, hair ties and wires out and decides to just wear her hair down for the last day of school.

Memory Lane.

2011-06-12T15:36:00.002-04:00

Sitting on a folding chair, I am bent over, pawing my way through to the bottom of a plastic tote bin. The bin is a swirl of pink and yellow and white fabric, all crashing gently into one another. After a few seconds, I stop: I have found a fleecey, soft pink shirt with a heart embroidered on it, lined with sweet pink floral cotton. I catch my breath for a second and allow myself to go back the many years since Michaela has worn this shirt. What do I remember? How big was she when she wore it? Where did we go wearing it? Do I have any pictures of her in this particular shirt? What about Jenna? Do I have any mental snapshots of her wearing this shirt? Any memories attached to Jenna wearing it?

And even bigger questions come out... how did it feel to hold my girls when they were this small? What did they smell like? How heavy did they feel? Could they smile? Laugh? Walk? Talk?

I am overwhelmed by how far away it feels since my big girl wore these little clothes.

It was time to go through these bins, these Holders of Memories, and let them go. Let someone else use this perfectly good clothing and make their own memories in it. Get it out of my basement so I can make room for new things.

We had a garage sale on Friday and the main purpose was to get rid of all the clothes Michaela, Jenna and Alec have accumulated in the last nine and a half years. Bin after bin, box after box lined my driveway, waiting for thrify and eager grandmothers to go through and buy. After it was all done, I was exhausted from moving the boxes up from the basement, out onto the driveway and back into the garage; while that was physically tiring, I think my main source of exhaustion was the emotional letting go I had to do as I watched people- strangers, even!- walk away with bags full of my babies' childhoods.

My favorite customer of the day was a young woman who was pregnant and due in October with her first baby, a girl. She went through box after box, holding items up to show her amused and very patient husband, and kept oohing and ahhing over her finds. I watched her thoughtfully count out months of sizes- will it be winter when the baby wears 6 month sized clothing?- and thought of my own three attempts to guess the baby's size by season. She seemed to be flush with the excitement that I remember so clearly with each of my pregnancies, the excitement that I will really miss never experiencing again. I was happy that she left with a big bag full of some of my own favorite sleepers and onesies, knowing that most likely she will show her own mom the things she got and will lovingly wash them, fold them and put them away for her own baby to wear.

I did save some things, though... three bins were designated, one for each child, as the Forever bins. Items can go in that bin and be saved, but only what fits in that one bin. For years I have thought about eventually making a quilt with the fabrics of the clothing I have saved, one for each child, hanging that quilt up on some type of Hall of Fame Wall in my house, throwing up some of my favorite pictures, and after my babies have flown the coop, rocking away my sorrow, staring at the quilts and pictures, and remembering.

I am overwhelmed by how far away it feels since my big girl wore these little clothes.

After the sale was over, Dan asked what we were going to do with the leftovers. I knew we had to make a clean break and not bring those items back into the basement. I boxed up the rest of the clothes and brought it all to Goodwill. It was very hard to hand those boxes over, knowing that only a fraction of the items would really ever be worn again, and most of it would be junked and bundled for the cotton. Only a fraction would be washed, folded and pulled down over a giggling head or pulled up over soft, papery diapers. Only a fraction would be photographed on another child. It was really hard. As I was bringing the last of the nine boxes in, someone was already starting to sort through the items in the first box, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman hold up a Dora the Explorer nightgown that both my girls wore countless times, look it over and flick it into a huge bin, cast aside. I wish I hadn't seen that. Better to imagine that it all went to a good home.

So, like much of parenthood, it is all about growth. And stretching your emotional boundaries. And knowing what you can control and what you can't. And moving forward, always moving forward. And making room for the new stuff. And cherishing the past while embracing the future with gusto. And understanding that raising children completely changes your concept of time: sometimes it flies by, sometimes it crawls, and years seem both like minutes and decades.

But I am still overwhelmed by how far away it feels since my big girl wore these little clothes.

Down by the River.

2011-06-11T10:00:00.002-04:00

Book Review (And I Haven't Even Finished the Book Yet).

2011-06-10T10:00:00.000-04:00

I got The Corrections out of the library on my birthday, which was last week, and I was savoring sitting down to read it. I had read Jonathan Franzen's more recent book, Freedom, a few months ago and it was mind-blowing: rich, complex, brilliant, dense, post-modern, familiar, funny, and an all -around terrifically satisfying novel. I still think about the characters, which to me is a sign of a great book.

I had heard such wonderful things about this book, the one that put him more on the map, and couldn't wait to start. And it has lived up to it's promise of greatness: it's amazing.

I am currently on page 466 with exactly 100 pages to go. I am already mourning being done with it.

A few afternoons ago, while I was reading, I came across a paragraph that so blew me away, so shook me and touched me and moved me, that I put a separate bookmark in so I could repeatedly go back to it and read it again. I think it is one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. It touched me as a mom and as a reader and as an appreciator of language. I'm not sure if you will feel it as much as I do since you have not read alllllllllll the context he puts into the book about his characters, but here is a brief synopsis: Alfred- a smart, proud, quiet, hard working, midwestern man in his late 60's- has Parkinson's disease and his wife Enid- anxious, loving, in denial about anything unpleasant, enthusiastic, unrealistic- has dragged him onto a cruise up through the Eastern Canadian coast to see the fall foliage. Alfred, who is fighting bouts of dementia, wanders on the ship to a place he's not supposed to be and falls overboard. Alfred and Enid have three grown children, each with their own issues and drama and context, and while Alfred has not been a mushy, demonstrative father, he loves his children and raised them in a strict, secure, comfortable home and did what he thought was best for them.

And here's the paragraph:

"He was remembering the nights he'd sat upstairs with one or both of the boys or with his girl in the crook of his arm, their damp bath-smelling heads hard against his ribs as he read aloud to them from Black Beauty or The Chronicles of Narnia. How his voice alone, its palpable resonance, had made them drowsy. These were evenings, and there were hundreds of them, maybe thousands, when nothing traumatic enough to leave a scar had befallen the nuclear unit. Evenings of plain vanilla closeness in his black leather chair; sweet evenings of doubt between the nights of bleak certainty. They came to him now, these forgotten counterexamples, because in the end, when you were falling into water, there was no solid thing to reach for but your children."

She's a tooth-loser.

2011-06-09T10:00:00.001-04:00

APRIL 26, 2011: Jenna arrives home from school and tells me her loose tooth, which she first reported only a few days prior, had become significantly loosened by biting into her sandwich at lunch.

Jenna shows me wiggly tooth.

Tooth is pretty floppy. I suggest she ask Daddy to help her get it out.

Daddy arrives home from work. They cloister themselves into the downstairs bathroom. Strategies are discussed. After about 10 minutes, Jenna emerges, triumphant and toothless, carrying an apple she bit into to release said tooth.

Mommy takes picture.

Tooth is hidden under pillow.

Tooth Fairy comes and leaves $5 for this, the first lost tooth, which was lost a full nine months earlier than her sister's first lost tooth (for those of you keeping score at home).

Jenna discusses at length what the Tooth Fairy looks like, how does she come into my room, how does she know, how Jenna KNOWS that she is real, how Jenna has a book that SHOWS what she looks like, etc, etc, etc.

Mommy tries to not freak out about her baby girl loosing teeth. Mommy doesn't do a very good job of not freaking out. Mommy gets a little sad that Jenna is getting older.

Within days, next tooth is loosened.

A Blogger's Apology.

2011-06-08T14:20:00.003-04:00

I am woefully behind in reporting just about everything going on here, so please accept my apologies and be ready for a deluge of family information. Here's some of what's gone down:

1. After eleven months of waiting, we found out what color the lilacs are next to our house. They were magnificent and scented the whole yard.

2. I was a Doubting Thomas about these irises ever blooming, but bloom they did, and now I see new blooms coming. These flowers are proud and majestic and noble, and a second bloom is just icing on the cake.

3. On May 26th was the elementary school's Art Show, with work from every class on display. I met their art teacher, who I was thoroughly underwhelmed by, and saw the projects they've created. They also had some pretty tasty cookies available for munching. Seeing little Jenna's artwork on the wall was amazing to me, because I still have a hard time thinking of her as school-age. Wasn't I just nursing her? (Well, in actuality, I was just nursing her a few years ago, but the point is the same: I think of her as barely preschool age, and here she is with displayed artwork. In a school. With Michaela.)
Both girls did a wonderful job with their projects, which were creative and colorful and very them.

4. May 25th was Michaela's Spring Concert, which featured her performing with the 4th Grade Orchestra and the combined 4/5 Choir. The concerts are fun because they are earnest and short and enthusiastic. Michaela played Lightly Row, Ode to Joy, and Song of the Wind, Frere Jaques, and French Folk Song on her viola as part of the orchestra. The choir, who was really fun to watched and listen to, sang Blackbird, Stand by Me and Dance Evolution Medley, which was well choreographed AND well sung.

Michaela has chosen to stick with viola for another year and she seems to do pretty well considering she never, ever practices. She briefly considered switching to play the saxophone in the band, which I think is actually more her style, and then lobbied me to allow her to switch to the cello, because "you get to sit down when you play" but I nixed that idea. So I sent in the form, saying I would pay for another year of viola rental, and felt kind of like I'd been suckered. But I like the sound of her practicing, and besides, look how pretty she looks with a viola:

Seen and Heard.

2011-05-19T19:42:00.003-04:00

I have read and watched a couple of articles and interviews lately that I really enjoyed and wanted to write about.

1. "Mel Brooks and Our Mothers Were Right" by Ruth Marcus: Times Union, 5/8/11

"My mother used to annoy me by constantly brushing the hair out of my eyes. From my viewpoint, she was invading my personal space. It wasn't until I became a mother that I finally understood: That concept does not apply between parents and children. They are and always will be part of you."

This reminds me of the wonderful- and quite accurate- description of becoming a mother: when you become a mom, you grow another heart, but one outside your body, that is not protected and is open to hurt and pain. Even I, who have fairly rigid personal boundaries and have given birth to two girls who have the strongest, most iron-clad personal boundaries I have ever seen in human children (Alec seems to be a bit more flexible in this area), am amazed at how the lines of personal space and intimacy and love and trust and drippiness so easily blur when I am with them. And they want me right with them, all the time. Of course, they are only 6 and 9. I fully expect to be cut off in the next four to six years.

2. On the same day, in the same paper was an article about a father in Lowell, MA, whose 15 year old son Johnny had been killed 41 years ago, and whose murder had never been solved. The article describes how the father, William, doggedly and religiously contacted the Lowell police to ask if anything new had come in, and "reminding them about his son, reminding them not to let his son be forgotten."

William, now 83 years old, kept a notebook for all those years, in which he wrote down every memory he had of his son's short 15 years of life, and then every clue or shred of information that might possibly lead to the answers he so desperately sought about his son's killer. I can only imagine the fear one has of forgetting: forgetting moments you shared, places you went, things you did together, how your baby felt when you held them, smelled when you hugged them, and sounded when they laughed. So you write it down, every bit you can remember, so that it doesn't slip away from you as the months became years and the years become decades since you saw and touched them last.

And then last month, a miracle: three men were arrested for Johnny's murder. They had been teenagers with Johnny and Johnny had flirted with one of the boys' girlfriend at the time. They wanted to "teach him a lesson" and killed him.

Stories like this are amazing to me, and speak to the love and determination and resolve parents have in dealing with their children.
I love it because it so profoundly illustrates my core belief that a parent's basic function in life is to be the Last Great Defense between the child and the world. The Protector. The Advocate. The Cherisher. The Rememberer.

3. On one of her last shows, Oprah Winfrey had a lovely interview with Ralph Lauren, including time with his wife Ricky and his three grown children. Ralph and Ricky have been married for over 40 years, and when asked about their life together, she replied that while he had his business, her job in the family was to raise the children and take care of the house, and that both of them working together helped make their lives successful. When asked what his favorite family memory was about growing up, their oldest son David answered that he couldn't really pick a favorite, but that one thing that was most meaningful to him is the photo albums that his mom put together for him. "She takes all the pictures and writes the stories that are in the albums," he said. And what do you know, I thought: Mrs. Lauren is a SCRAPBOOKER.

The family was incredibly down to earth, family-focused, comfortable with each other, and all seemed to genuinely like each other. The children said that they always felt cherished by their parents, who never took off to go to events or vacations without them. They were home for dinner together, spent time on weekends together, and generally had a happy, stable, satisfying upbringing.

Kudos to the Laurens for putting in the time and energy necessary to have a functional family. They are reaping what they have sown.

The Television Saga, Concluded.

2011-05-17T09:46:00.003-04:00

Late last fall, we decided that it was time to start looking at buying a new television set, since the one we were watching was 11 years old and a housewarming gift from when we moved into our first house. We started asking questions to friends of ours who had flat screens, fretted over plasma vs. LED/LCD, and debated brands. It fun to look and talk about. For a few months. Then I was kinda over it.
So this spring we narrowed down some options and started debating where we would put it. I wanted it above the fireplace but we weren't sure about where to put the components. And component storage, my friends, is a Very Big Deal. We looked for cabinets to put on either side of the fireplace but had a hard time finding what we wanted. Dan really wanted a chrome and glass monstrosity (my word, not his) but I nixed that. I wanted built in bookshelves on either side of the fireplace that would be lower than the mantle, but Dan had a hard time imagining those. In the end we compromised and bought a plain black cabinet. (But have no fear: I WILL get those built ins.)

Here is what we started with:

Last Wednesday, as we were getting ready for Jenna's family birthday party on Sunday, the contractors came to do the wiring. All went well. This is what it looked like on Wednesday afternoon:

They finished up on Friday morning with the last coat of mud, sanded it and overall did a great job. All we had to do was prime and paint it, and mount the TV. No prob.

That was when our adventure with custom matched paint started. Three cans of "matched paint" later (including one that was the wrong sheen and one that had the wrong base color) and by Saturday at 1pm we had four different colors of paint on our family room wall and none matched. And I had 28 people coming to my house for a party in 25 hours. I was sick to my stomach, and I don't generally get too flustered by stuff like this; I have an optimistic attitude about just about anything but this was just too much. I felt like we had ruined our beautiful house and that we were clearly going to have to paint the whole family room and kitchen before this saga was over.

But alas, we were rescued by a fourth can of matched paint and we put it on the wall. Success!! I had some serious issues with the customer service provided by the store we bought the paint from, which I will address on my own this week, but they did finally come through with a match. Dan and my dad quickly put it all together, mounted the TV, Dan connected all the components and speakers, and by Saturday night, viola! New TV!!

Now I just have to learn how to use all the new remotes.

Mother's Day, Part II.

2011-05-16T17:39:00.003-04:00

This is a picture of what my mother and I came home to after shopping by ourselves on Mother's Day afternoon.
Let's all pause for a moment after reading that sentence and reflect on how wonderful it is.

I had a lovely Mother's Day. We went to church in the morning, and met our aunt and uncle at Panera Bread to celebrate Mother's Day (which was also a lovely, delicious treat) and then headed home. I had the afternoon off and went shopping with just my mom. We went to Kirklands and Pottery Barn and Michael's, lingering over things we loved to look at and not having to maneuver a stroller through any of them. Heaven. My mom bought us a new rug for our entryway, one I had my eye on for a while, and now every time I see it as I walk down the stairs I think of our fun afternoon out.

Dan and my dad had asked us if we had any requests, and we replied that anything would be great and that the dinner in no way had to be fancy or complicated: grilled hamburgers would have suited us just fine. But Dan and my dad are actually pretty creative and competent cooks and pulled out a new recipe for us.

And when they sat us down and placed this bowl of heaven in front of us- marinated chicken, asparagus, and zucchini in a beautiful lemon/garlic/oil sauce- we squealed with delight and dug in. And it was soooo good.

The girls made sweet cards and I also received a gift card to Sephora.

I felt loved and appreciated and thankful for this gift of family that has been bestowed upon me.

And best of all, no one puked on me THE WHOLE DAY. (And I have had that happen on previous Mother's Days, so this one was a real treat.)

You Know You Are the Third Born Child When...

2011-05-16T08:39:00.003-04:00

... your mom lets eat some cake from your sister's birthday party the next morning for breakfast. Never ever would have happened with the girls; with him, I shrug my shoulders and know it won't really hurt him. (He'll finish the rest of his regular breakfast.)

Mother's Day, Part I

2011-05-09T08:19:00.001-04:00

This was told to Dan, who was grocery shopping for Mother's Day dinner with the three kids and my dad:
"I like going grocery shopping with you, Daddy... you say 'yes' to a lot more things than Mom does."

Things I Want to Remember About Easter 2011.

2011-05-04T08:21:00.010-04:00

1. We had a wonderful morning during the vacation coloring Easter eggs, which is one of my mom's all time favorite activities of the year. Alec was remarkably compliant about the whole thing and the girls had a blast. We realized that we need to make more than 18 eggs now to personalize each egg with family members' names. We've had lots of new babies in the last few years.

2. We ate cinnamon rolls for breakfast. This is a lovely tradition that we have really embraced over the last few years: we have cinnamon rolls only on special occasions, like Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter and maybe one other stray holiday thrown in there to mix it up. The kids love it, and now when I smell them cooking in the oven, I automatically feel a spike in my own sense of anticipation about the day.

3. The Easter baskets were a hit. Some faithful readers may remember that Michaela quite disgustedly announced last year that the Easter Bunny must have come to our house last on his route because he didn't bring very good candy, and the candy he brought she didn't even like. So you can imagine the pressure the Easter Bunny felt this year: he really wanted to redeem himself after last year's debacle. I tried helping him out by asking the girls a few times what kinds of candy they'd like in their basket, but Michaela began to look suspiciously at me and finally asked, "Are you asking because of the Easter Bunny, or do you put the baskets together?" And I replied that I was only trying to help.

4. The baskets were recognized. After all the hoopla died down about the Much Better Than Last Year's baskets, Michaela looked carefully at her basket and said, "Hmmm... this is the same basket I had last year." "How does the Easter Bunny get the baskets back?" asks Jenna. "Oh, it's Mommy Magic. Mommies take care of that," I answer. "But HOW?" asks Jenna. "We have a secret way of sending them back,"I breezily answer.

5. The Easter Bunny got dissed. I was leaving the house one day in mid April to go shopping. "Wait!" Michaela says. "I want you to look for the pillow pet things we saw at the store... find out what the name of it is and tell me so I can write it down for the Easter Bunny."

"That's not how it works," I tell her. "The Easter Bunny is not Santa."

"Well, the Easter Bunny sucks," I hear someone whom I gave birth to nine years ago say under her breath.

"MICHAELA!" I say. "That's not nice and not a good way to get a good basket on Easter."

"Sorry," she mumbles. She explains to me later that she really, really wanted the Alvin and the Chipmunks sqeaquel last year and did get it from the Easter Bunny, so surely she could ask for something and get it this year as well.

6. We had a small Easter egg hunt at our house in the morning. I have always said that Dan and I grew up in such similar households, our biggest cultural divide when we got married was that my family hid baskets and his family hid eggs on Easter morning. This year I finally was able to put a little egg hunt together, including an especially difficult to find Golden egg, which had a few bucks in it. The girls really loved it and it is a great addition to our Easter mornings. (I realized at the end of the day that Easter is so exhausting because it's like Christmas but all condensed into one day: presents, candy, fancy outfits, church, family and big dinner and cleanup all in a 12 hour time period. Whew.)

7. We listened to church hymns at home while we were going through our baskets, eating breakfast and getting ready. Hearing the Hallelujah Chorus and Jesus Christ is Risen Today brought tears to my eyes. To me, there is nothing like the sense of joy and triumph and gratitude on Easter morning. Nothing. Nothing even comes close.

8. Michaela attended Good Friday services with us for the first time. She was ready and eager to experience the tenebrae service our church has every Good Friday. I think she got quite a bit out of it, and I told her it will only heighten her sense of joy on Easter morning. "The Pastors looked so sad," she said. "I really thought they were going to cry." My mom has been babysitting our kids on that night for years, and it was really moving to introduce Michaela to the service and coach her through it. I also realized that if we wait until Alec is nine to bring him, we will have exactly one Good Friday service that we attend as a family of five, and then Michaela will be away at college. Hopefully she'll come home for Easter.

9. Easter at church was as beautiful as ever. Nothing like looking at that sunshine stream in on Easter morning.

10. Moms will use any means neccessary to keep 19 month olds entertained in church. And sometimes the only trick up her sleeve is a pair of fake 3D glasses that someone left behind in her purse.

11. I was thrilled with the outfits for Easter. The freakish looks I get in January when I start nosing around store clerks and asking when their Easter lines are coming out are all worth it when I feel like my kids look good. And coordinated. I had a moment of panic on Maundy Thursday, when I realized that M, J, A and D were all set outfit wise but C had nothing to wear. So I hustled out on Saturday afternoon and found a nice navy dress that meshed perfectly in the navy/ white/ gray theme. Crisis averted. The girls looked so sweet in their dresses and navy headbands, and Alec looked like a big boy in his shirt and vest. Thank you very much, Gymboree. You did great.

12. It's our 15th Easter together. We're a little older, and not quite as fresh looking as we were in 1996 (three kids in eight years will do that to ya), but just as happy.

13. Moms who blog sometimes have to put a gratuitous picture up of their third born child because it is adorable. And because they can. But seriously... look at that face.

14. Jenna was in charge of leading The Hot and Cold Game: Easter Basket Search and Rescue, and loved every minute of it. She had helped my mom hide the baskets at my parents' house the day before and giggled the entire time we looked for our baskets, screaming, HOT! SOOO HOT! BURNING, EVEN!! when we got close to our loot. We all laughed just watching her lead.

15. We had Easter dinner at our house. It was a lovely dinner, in our dining room (fancy!), with ham and mashed potatoes and peas and rolls and cucumber salad and asparagus. For dessert we had Carvel ice cream cake and brownies (because what is a party without brownies?) and sugar cookies that the kids got to decorate with vanilla frosting and Easter/Spring themed sprinkles. We even used the Good Lenox China (MORE fancy!). Holidays at the new house are still exciting, and I hope that feeling doesn't go away for a long, long time.

16. It was a beautiful, blessed Easter. Amen.

Work vs. School.

2011-04-28T09:27:00.002-04:00

Today was a day Michaela has been anticipating for a long time: her first Bring Your Daughter to Work Day. She's been talking about it frequently ever since Dan told her about it a few weeks ago; planning what she would do and say and wear and I think also satisfy her curiosity about what it is, exactly, that Daddy does at work at an insurance company.

I was talking with her about it yesterday and she gave me this insight: "I'm going to bring a mug to work and carry it around like this" (demonstrates a Office Space-manager type pose) "and say, Get on that! and Let's get results! and Help those people! and then my phone is going to ring and I'll say, Oh, excuse me, I have to take this... Michaela Libutti, how can I help you? There was an accident? Is everyone okay? Any injuries? I'll call an ambulance!"

So I'm listening to this and cracking up laughing, and Danny hears her and says, "Michaela, we don't call ambulances for people." And that makes me crack up EVEN MORE because both of them are quite possibly the most concrete people on Earth (I mean, she's nine... she has NO IDEA what insurance even is or how it works, let alone whether Dan calls ambulances for people. Frankly I think her impression of office work and managing people is pretty good for her age.) and just I love them both so much.

Meanwhile someone else who lives in this house who is not old enough to attend Bring Your Daughter to Work Day is a little irritated that she's not able to skip a day of school and join in this adventure. Said person stomped down the stairs this morning and announced to me: "I'm not going to school today because Mimi doesn't have to go."
"Well, Jenna, you ARE going to school. Mimi's going to work with Daddy. She's going to have to do some boring things at work."
"No, she's not. It's not work. SHE'S GETTING DONUTS."

Our Family's Great Escape.

2011-04-21T19:03:00.004-04:00

Our family did something that we've been wanting to do for a long time: head an hour north to Lake George and visit the indoor water park at the Great Escape Lodge. We booked for one night, which gave us time in the water park on Friday and Saturday, and turned out to be a perfect amount of time. We packed for what seemed like an expedition to Mount Everest (Really? We need all this stuff to spend ONE NIGHT away?), I picked up the girls at school, we picked up Daddy at work and we were warm, in our bathing suits and wet by 5:30pm.

It's a really nice facility with a nice hotel and good eating options. Dan and I were most happy to find out you could order Sam Adams Noble Pils at the Johnny Rockets that is attached to the hotel.

These were a few of the take-away points:
1. Mommy is not ready to take a week-long vacation anywhere with three kids under 10.
2. Alec is at an age where he can wake up, not recognize where he is, and freak out about that.

3. Nothing is as fun as riding the lazy river while lounging on your mom.

4. It's really relaxing to go on a lazy river with one of your babies keeping you warm on your lap.

5. If you have a nine and five year old and they are required to wear a neon bracelet proving their parents paid for their admission to a theme park and said bracelet has a long "tail" at the end of where it is attached, your five and nine year old daughters will fixate on the high level of annoyance the tail provides them until you finally, in desperation, beg for two pairs of scissors: one to cut the tail off and one to jam into your own eyes, because that would end the whining about the tail.

6. If you are a one year old boy, the phone in your hotel room is a source of endless fun. We had to unplug ours because we were convinced he would eventually figure out how to order room service.

7. Going to a water park in the winter is a wonderful reminder that people come in all shapes and sizes, and not everyone (in fact, barely anyone) looks like people on television, in magazines, or in movies.

8. Along the same lines, more people have tattoos than I realize.

9. If you are videotaping an adorable, placid scene of your daughter and son frolicking on a small kiddie slide inside a water park, and at the end of the video, your son climbs up the ladder for the slide and then falls completely backwards off the ladder, A) your son will be just fine, and B) you can feel better about what kind of a parent you are because even though your kid almost got a traumatic brain injury right in front of you, at least you had the where-with-all to immediately stop filming.

10. There is nothing like a little break from the routine (and by little, I mean 22 hours) to remind you how much you and your children love your routines.

11. If your children love the SpongeBob Squarepants episode wherein Squidward tries to conquer the skill crane machine at the Krusty Krab and you go to an arcade that has video games and skill cranes, your daughters will spend $10 in tokens only on winning a "prize" from a skill crane machine.

12. Water slides are really, really, really fun.

Because It's EXHAUSTING to Look This Cute in Walmart When Shopping With Your Mom.

2011-04-12T13:50:00.003-04:00

Examining the Stay At Home Life.

2011-04-11T09:01:00.003-04:00

Well, another brilliant study had been released which investigates the diet and exercise habits of moms and dads with children under 5. And this is the shocking conclusion: moms of children under 5 don't exercise as much or eat as well as childless women. No kidding. It is all about time, opportunity, and meeting needs. This is my story: I cannot go to a gym right now unless Dan is home, because Alec refuses to stay at the day-care center they have there and I cannot ask my mom to give up time of her life a few times a week so that I have thinner thighs. I used to go early in the morning before everyone woke up, before Alec was born, and loved going, but I'm not sure I can get up that early and then functionally parent three children until they go to bed. So I am in limbo. I am hoping that the nicer weather comes sooner rather than later so I can go for long walks with Alec in the morning or after dinner with the whole family. I try really hard to feed my children nutritious, homemade meals every day. And of course, I eat what they eat, so that means we're all getting good dinners. But I can see how, with softball and soccer looming ahead of us, that my best of intentions may fall apart and we will reach for something quick and easy to make and clean up. And quick and easy is rarely as healthy as what I normally serve. On a larger scale, though, this debate is all about meeting needs, isn't it? Whose needs will be met first? Whose will be met best? Is exercise really a need? I know it is to some people and not to others. In either case, it is something you have to make room for, and sometimes the things we as moms want fall behind what our kids or husbands or family wants. There is only a certain number of hours in a day, and when you have three kids and a husband all wanting time from you, you have little left to divvy out just for yourself. Nothing irritates me more than reading things about how you SHOULD do this for yourself, you SHOULD do that- it's a whole blame-the-victim mentality: I know I SHOULD go out on dates with my husband, I know I SHOULD make time for myself, but more often than not I am just trying my hardest to keep everyone clean and well fed and their nails clipped and hair brushed and homework done and developmental milestones met and felt listened to and moderately on top of our schedules. The last thing I need is someone's opinion that I SHOULD be doing something else. In the end it just becomes another thing that is not getting done. Because I enjoy knowing that my family is well-cared for, and that gives me lots of satisfaction. Of course, I enjoy doing things for myself- I'm not that much of a martyr. But I am at times perplexed at our culture's blindness to stay at home moms and how much of motherhood in general is a long, hard exercise in putting other people's needs in front of your own. Other people's agendas in front of your own. Other people's schedules in front of your own. And there is just no break, little time off, and the cruel twist is that when you are finally done and your kids are out of the house, so many moms go absolutely bonkers with grief. Have you ever watched a show about hoarding?? Nine times out of ten, when it's a middle-aged woman who hoarding, it's because her babies have left the nest... and so she fills it up. We moms do this because we love it and we would die for our children, gladly, and spend every day thinking about what we can do that is best for them. And they in turn bring unspeakable joy and love and heartswells and laughter and richness to us. But it is hard. I have been in touch with several moms of younger children this past week who needed pep talks about being home. One asked how to mentally survive not feeling well and dealing with children and seeing the everyday chores piling up. And I shared with her that parenthood is all about letting go and growing and putting other's needs before your own and trying not to drown in the process. After I was home awhile I realized that there are three kinds of days as a stay at home mom: fall apart days, where everything goes down the tubes and despite your best efforts, everything is a mess; treading water days, where you are neither further ahead nor further behind than you were the day before; and get ahead days, where the daily routine goes smoothly and a window of time opens up for you to work on a short-or long-range project. And the burst of energy and joy you get from seeing progress made outweighs that bad stuff. It gives you the psychological energy to move ahead, even on the fall behind days. Now my mom would helpfully say that even on the fall behind days, you are really ahead, because you are with your babies being their mommy. And I get that. But it doesn't feel quite as exciting as a get-ahead day, where you can pat yourself on the back and say, "My, my, MY! I have got this stay at home thing LICKED!! I have got it GOIN' ON!!" And then in a matter of moments, something falls apart and you're back to a treading water day.

One of the worst parts of being at home is that we're all (at least I am) thinking that everyone else is doing a better job than we are, everyone is more organized, more accomplished, more everything. We're all hidden in our individual houses and only get a glimpse into what everyone else is doing. And therefore we have totally unrealistic expectations of what OTHER moms are getting done, how much fun they are really having, how clean their house really is, etc, and we end up thinking that we come up short. We're all sort of hanging on by a thread. This is all compounded by the fact that there is no evaluation process, no performance review, and no one besides our husbands (and maybe our moms) who see us for what is really happening and tell us we are doing a good job. Or a GREAT job. In many ways, stay at home moms have to be the best cheerleader for themselves, instead of thinking, "I'm not doing enough or doing it good enough" which seems to be the default setting in many of our brains.

Oh, it's a complex thing. But we do this for the love of our babies.

The Blessings and Curses of Modern Conveniences.

2011-04-05T13:09:00.002-04:00

For many years, I've thought about how grateful I am to be living in America in the 21st century: I have a warm, comfortable house; indoor plumbing; heat and air conditioning; clean air to breathe and clean water to drink; and all kinds of machines that make my life easier. I always thought how lucky I am that I have a washing machine and don't have to drag a pile of clothes to a river somewhere and wash them on a board and line dry them. Lately, though, I've been thinking that if I DID have to bring them to the river, we would have less clothes, and I'd be carrying two or three items per person, tops, instead of the multitude of shirts, the undershirts, the 10 pairs of underwear, 14 different pajamas, and 7 pairs of skinny jeans in the laundry that I do just for the two girls. Add in the pajamas and shirts and pants and socks of the boy, the copious laundry that I do for Dan, and my own meager additions and it becomes a never-ending process. Maybe less is more in this situation. But then again, we probably smell a lot better, too.

Fighting the Inevitable.

2011-04-04T09:14:00.002-04:00

Alec has officially discovered Dora the Explorer. I'm not sure if I'm horrified at having to go through months and months- years, really- of Dora episodes, DVDs, books and merchandise... or relieved that I have another way of wrangling 25 minutes of free time from him to do exciting, selfish tasks like showering every day. In the end, I really enjoy being clean and looking half way decent, so I guess Dora wins. In all fairness, Jenna let go of Dora a few years ago, so I have had a little break. In other Alec news, the speech therapist comes next Tuesday to evaluate him. He has made some progress in the speech department- now calls Jenna "Nenna" and Michaela a very close version of "Mehmeh" (not quite Mimi, not quite Mama) and his receptive vocab is really very good. We'll see if he qualifies for anything. Tomorrow is his 18 month checkup and I can't believe we are already a year and a half in. I'm really going to struggle with not seeing him as a 7 month old for the rest of his and my life. What a love he is. Vamanos... let's go!!

Why I Love Living With a 9 Year Old.

2011-04-01T10:59:00.005-04:00

Of course there are NUMEROUS reasons why I love living with Michaela, and her latest report card says it best: "It is delightful to see the energy, enthusiasm, and creativity that Michaela possesses." Amen, Ms. L, amen. That's my Mimi in a nutshell. But in this particular case, I was in a bit of a jam: I was looking for a stack of Toys R Us gift cards that all three children had saved up from various birthdays and holidays that were going towards new toys for Alec and a motorized scooter for the girls. I was heading to Toys R Us yesterday and wanted to use some of Alec's for a new water table and some outdoor toys to play with this summer. You know, IF summer, or warmth, or sunshine actually ever comes again to the Northeast. And I couldn't find them. I looked in the first five or so logical places and found nothing. I was starting to panic and plan my all-out destruction of the house to find them in time for the girls to get their scooter this spring. I even looked a little in Michaela's room, thinking that she may have felt a sense of ownership over them and had put them in a drawer in her room. Nothing. So after dinner, as I was driving the girls to choir practice, I ever so lightly-and-casually-as-to-not-arouse-suspicion-or- panic said, "Hey Michaela... do you happen to have the Toys R Us gift cards?" "Hmmm... I don't have them, but I feel like I just saw them... Oooh! I know!" And she reaches forward and opens up the glove compartment of the car. And there they all are. "I was looking for a pen the other day and opened this up and thought it was weird that they were in here," says Michaela. "I could kiss you!!" I say to her. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!" Because I assure you, not in a million years would I ever have looked in the glove compartment for the gift cards. Ever. I now remember that we brought them on a shopping trip, ran out of time and didn't make it to the store, and I threw them in there so they would be hidden. So well hidden, in fact, that I forgot they were in there that day. And totally forgot about them since. So moms of young children, take heart! For all the messes and annoyances and frustrations of having little kids, keep this in mind: before you know it, they will be nine years old, their own little person, and they will be saving your butt.

Sneaker.

2011-03-30T16:55:00.002-04:00

I just noticed that Alec, who is only wearing a diaper and a long shirt, with his pudgy little legs and toes sticking out, is standing verrrrry still and quietly in front of the pantry. I went over to investigate and found him with an entire hand inside the bag of M&Ms. Life is good when you have two older sisters and a stocked pantry.

Scout and Sweetie Dance: 2011 Edition.

2011-03-26T18:07:00.003-04:00

Tonight is the Girl Scout's Scout and Sweetie Dance, wherein all the scouts get dressed up, their sweeties put on suits, and their moms weep at how old their little scouts are getting.

Oh, wait... that's just what happened at MY scout's house. Sigh.

Michaela looked beautiful and they were both excited about a fun night out together -dinner and dancing at a local country club.

PS- There was great debate in our house over the last few days over whether Michaela would be allowed to wear those hoops- they are much bigger than the earrings she usually wears. After much discussion, she was granted permission with the understanding that this was a special occasion.

I'm certain that this will not be the last time we debate appropriateness of clothing and accessories. :)

Titles That Would Sell.

2011-03-24T10:10:00.002-04:00

The other day I was thinking of book titles for my book about life with three little ones, and I'm between two:

The Unwashed Years:

How Having Three Children Over Eight Years Ruins Your Personal Hygiene Standards

"No, I Can't Hug You While I'm Going to the Bathroom"

and Other Feeble Attempts at Setting Personal Boundaries with Your Children

And just to be clear, this book is all in my head.

Random Crap: "Spring" Edition.

2011-03-21T18:08:00.006-04:00

I put Spring in quotes because, as Michaela says, air quotes means it isn't true. Today is the first full day of spring and we got two inches of slushy snow, right after we watched with great joy the biggest of the snow piles melt away over the last week or so. I've got to think that this weather makes us hardier, or at least more accepting of bitter disappointments in life.

I'm serving chicken strips, smiley fries, and broccoli for dinner tonight. I justify this to myself by pointing out that I pay more for chicken strips, not re-congealed 'nuggets' of chicken.

I set up the first meeting for Alec's speech eval today. The service coordinator- the same one we used when Jenna was eval'd back in 2006- is coming on Friday morning. I had a good time telling her what a pistol Jenna turned out to be after she turned about 4.

A plumber came by today to look at some leaky faucets. He's going to fix them on Thursday. Cross another few things off the mental To-Do list.

I got my hair done today and am the blondest I've ever been. 2011 seemed like a good year to try and put myself back together after having three babies.

Jenna announced that she would like to be called "Jenna D" from now on. It is a variation on Jenna-deeski that my dad has been calling her for years. She also has made it clear that she dislikes the nickname "Jen."

I planted the seed in the girls' heads that I want them to do some actvities this summer. Michaela agreed and Jenna immediately dug in her heels at the idea. Mimi will do the VBS program, quilt camp, and Girl Scout camp. Jenna has only agreed to visit quilt camp one day "just to watch."

Speaking of seeds, I am starting to plan out a small garden for the spring. I'd like to grow pumpkins, cukes, and peas. I am going against my natural instinct to plan enough to feed a small army and am trying to start small.

Jenna has been invited to a rash of birthday parties lately- four in the last four weeks. She enjoys them... and I enjoy chatting with the other moms during the parties.

I read a recipe for a honey bread in the newspaper recently and now am hankering to make some bread. I wish I was the kind of mom who only served their kids homemade bread, but it's just not in the cards right now. Maybe in a few years, and then I can be all casual and self-righteous about it, like, "Oh, I BAKE my own bread... doesn't EVERYONE?"

Alec has starteda new thing recently: I type on my computer standing up at my kitchen counter, and he enjoys weaseling in between the cabinets and my legs and pushing. That means I end up typing with my arms extended, slightly off balance, with him whimpering around my ankles. Sometimes I push him back and he giggles.

Dan and I (and Alec) are planning a day trip to NJ to go to an Ikea store and The Container Store. There is not a car big enough to carry back all the things I want to buy there.

Alec's obsession with SpongeBob Squarepants continues.

Hot foods in our house right now: Fruit by the Foot, S'mores flavored Goldfish crackers, clementines, and cheese sticks.

Dan has his six-month followup appointment for his knee next week. Hard to believe it's been that long since his surgery.

We are a few weeks away from buying our new television. Dan and Michaela are the most excited.

I signed up to coach Jenna's soccer team with a few friends whose daughters are friends with Jenna. I was telling my brother about how on the form it asked whether I'd played soccer past the high school varsity level and Brian asked if there was a space to write My feet have never worn cleats. But then the crushing news came that too many parents signed up to coach (another reason why I love my town) and they wouldn't be needing us. I am hoping to buy some sporty new outfits anyway.

I was reading some old blog posts from when Jenna was two, and I had forgotten how tough she was. In one post she threw a temper tantrum and when I put her in the car to go home, she took off her shoes and threw them at me in the front seat. I told her a few stories and she just smiled.

And that's about all from here.

Back to Normal. Finally.

2011-03-17T17:10:00.002-04:00

I am sooo happy to report that after a 16 day stint on the Catastrophic Loss team in Baltimore, MD, aka "Cat Duty", Dan is back home again.
(Large, long sigh of relief.)

Dan put his name on the list and his name came up two Tuesdays ago on the list. He had 24 hours to rearrange his life, pack, book his flight and rental car, wrap things up at work and mentally prepare for being away that long.

We've never been apart for more than five days since we've met. 15 years ago.

I was daunted by the idea of being a single mommy for all that time.

Thankfully, it was actually a decent time for him to go: he would miss no birthdays, no sports games, no holidays, nothing really big except for the Lip Sync. This is kind of the slow time for us before the storm of spring sports and activities.

So he packed up and left, and we held it all together while he was gone.

The girls were really wonderful; their behavior was great and Michaela was really helpful to me. And Alec did fine and was in good spirits for most of the two weeks. I got a little lonely in the evenings, but have to admit I enjoyed not making the bed every day and slacking on the full-meal-preparation-every-night thing.

It was just hard to have no one else to hand off Alec too, to give me a hand picking up messes, and hang out with on the weekend. But we did okay.

Today at a little before noon, we picked Daddy up at the airport. Alec was beside himself. I was thrilled. Dan picked up the girls at school and they gave him a warm welcome.

He's back and we're back to normal.
(Large, long sigh of relief.)

Lip Sync 2011!

2011-03-15T19:31:00.004-04:00

Here it is... selected scenes from the 2011 Lip Sync! Jenna's group is first and she is the third little dalmatian out of the house (but the fourth puppy in the row as you watch them). Michaela's group did a song called "Hey Ferb" from a cartoon show. She is the dark haired girl in the yellow shirt.

The whole show was such fun, and I am so proud of my girls for doing a great job in front of that huge audience!

My Quirky Boy.

2011-03-14T11:09:00.002-04:00

Alec has started a new thing: if you going into his room to play with him, he grabs a soft blue blanket that hangs over one end of his crib and hands it to you. You then must drape the blanket over your shoulders (sort of prayer-shawl style) for the duration of the playtime. That somehow signifies that you are indeed making the commitment to play with him. And it's not just me he does this to; he has Presented The Blanket to three different people this week.

Alec's Uncle Jimmy used to greet visitors to his house by giving them one of his father's undershirts, so I'm thinking this is a Libutti-gene-influenced activity.

Also new is an obsession with the bathtub. For the first 16 months of his life, Alec has screamed bloody murder every time we put him on the tub. We tried everything that may be bothering him- hotter water, cooler water, toys in, toys out, siblings in, siblings out, standing up, sitting down- and nothing stopped the screaming. A few weeks ago Dan introduced some new bath toys to Alec, and, combined with growth and maturity, that seemed to do the trick. Now Alec stands in the tub, refusing to sit down, shivering and with wrinkled feet, and continually dumps water from a few cups into the bathwater. If you try to take him out, he screams just as loud and ferociously as he did three weeks ago if you put him in.

I'm not sure which is worse.

He's a quirky kid sometimes. But, oh, what a love he is.

On Being Woken Up.

2011-03-11T14:27:00.002-05:00

So I woke up this morning as I do every morning, waiting for Alec to wake up and start crying. I got him, grabbed his morning bottle, settled in on the couch and flicked on the TV. All the video was just starting to pour in about the horrible earthquake in Japan and the subsequent tsunami. It's just heartbreaking, seeing all of that debris and know that people's precious belongings are being washed away, that people are probably trapped under buildings, and the overwhelming feeling of not even knowing where to start to clean it all up.

As MSNBC (I'm a rabid "morning joe" watcher... I love me some Joe Scarborough in the morning. And Willie Geist! Ohhh! LOOOOVE him! Mika I am sort of attached to, mostly because I love hearing her Scarsdale-influenced, unendingly self-righteous attitude. And for all her moaning and groaning about women in the workplace and fairness, her legs, which are gorgeous, are quite prominently figured in all of the bumper pictures as they come and go to commercial. You'd think she'd be screaming about sexism and being treated like an object and all that. But I digress.) and CNN start airing their BREAKING NEWS crawls and synopses on the bottom of the screen, one in particular struck me as funny. Every station I watched had a reporter or anchor very solemly-whispering, almost- stating that "President Obama was awoken at 4am to be told of this disaster," like his sleep being inturrupted only underscored the seriousness of this event.

Sure, hundreds of people have been killed or are missing, a city is all but destroyed, but we had to WAKE THE PRESIDENT. This is BIG TIME.

And let me tell you, I have spent the better part of the last nine YEARS being woken up at four in the morning, and many times it involved having to clean up copious amounts of puke or pee.

That's a crisis.
That's having to spring to life and do something unpleasant.

And no one's whispering THAT on the morning news.

Mrs. Libutti was awoken at 4am this morning to the news that her daughter had puked on her sheets, comforter and the floor. Details are still sketchy; we do believe that the sheets were changed, but we are waiting confirmation on this. Hopefully we will have raw video on the air within the hour. If you have information on this disaster, send us your photos or video via email. Or post your information about the vomit and subsequent cleanup efforts on our Facebook page or twitter.

Who Let the Dogs Out?

2011-03-07T19:53:00.004-05:00

Jenna and her fellow puppies and one of the puppies' older sister, who indeed let the dogs out,

at last week's dress rehearsal

Jenna and her good friend Hallie

Getting ready backstage

Our school's Lip Sync Concert is this coming Thursday evening, and we all couldn't be more happy: the girls are thrilled to perform their songs in front of a live audience, and all the moms in our school are happy that it will soon be over.

It takes a fair amount of planning, coordinating, rehearsals, costume designing and choreography to put together a decent Lip Sync performance. And let me be clear: no one is actually Lip Sync-ing anything. This is a dance recital. It's ALL about the dancing.

A girl in Michaela's group is a competitive dancer, and when her mom, who is new to the Lip Sync scene, saw the dress rehearsal, she said to me,"Did you know that it was like this? This is more involved that the dance competitions we go to with Shauna."

Yes, I did know it was like this and yet I signed up to have not one, but two girls involved.

But it turned out that Michaela and her friends were totally self-sufficient; they designed their costumes, developed the choreography, and even arranged their rehearsals independently. Jenna's group, being made up of kindergartners, needed a little more help and I volunteered to help with costumes. She's lip-sync-ing "Who Let the Dogs Out?" with four of her classmates and they are all outfitted with dalmatian costumes. Our main goal was to have them look SOOOO CUTE that if they completely forgot their dance moves no one would notice because they are so busy ooohing and ahhhing over them.

Thankfully the other moms in the group were all a joy to work with, so no angst ever arose.

It is also a joy to have an event at the school that is so well-supported and the kids are all so excited about; it's a great community-builder within the school.

We're looking forward to it!

Playdates.

2011-03-01T09:42:00.003-05:00

On Sunday, we had family friends over for dinner and then I had four other girlfriends of mine come over for a few hours to oogle the Oscar dresses on the red carpet.
I was telling Jenna on the way to church that morning what we were doing.
Jenna's response: "You're having too many playdates today."

A Week in the Life.

2011-02-25T10:34:00.004-05:00

Saturday: Bring Michaela to a birthday party in the morning. Go to Time Warner Cable and get a new remote to replace the one we have been using whose right-sided buttons no longer work (and yes, that was just as annoying as it sounds). Went to Home Depot and bought supplies to install shelves in our office closet and under cabinet lights for the kitchen. Went to a home store and bought a new rug for our living room. Picked up Michaela. Came home, installed lights, made kettle corn popcorn, ordered Chinese food, played with kids, went to bed.

Sunday: Went to church. Helped set up for church's vacation Bible school program and the kindergarten classroom where I and my friend Angel were going to teach. Girls went out with their great aunt to get mani-pedis (it's a tough life). Made a nice dinner and had our aunt and uncle over. Made kettle corn popcorn, played with kids and went to bed.

Monday: Woke up to snow falling. Haircuts for Jenna and Alec in the morning. Shoveled some of the driveway. Ate lunch and went to church. Almost passed out when I found out that we have twenty-two 5 and 6 year olds in our VBS class. Kept smiling anyway. Alec dismissed his babysitters after about 30 minutes so I carried him in his backpack on my back while we taught. Finished up VBS for the day, planned for the next day's lesson, tossed kids in car, dropped Michaela at a friend's house, came home. Felt a crushing sense of dread when I realized the members of my family were expecting me to actually cook them food for dinner. Made dinner, cleaned up, picked up Michaela, went to the store to get milk and got talked into buying ice cream and Cadbury mini eggs by Michaela. Collapsed into bed and slept better than I have in a long time.

Tuesday: Went grocery shopping with three children. Made mental note to start asking my mom NOW to babysit kids over the summer so I can shop in peace. Kids came home happy with 2 cans of Pringles, Little Bites brownies, chewy Chips Ahoy, and swiss cake rolls. Kids declare me "The Best Mom Ever." Quickly eat lunch, go to church, teach 21 much less inhibited kindergartners (who are adorable and really very good) about the Lost Sheep and delight when the kids go crazy over a new song "Baa I'm A Lamb" which is sung to the oldie "Barbara Ann". (Not since our current Pastor was a vicar at our church and introduced us to "Pharaoh, Pharaoh" have the kids gone so crazy for a church song. I'm pretty sure one of the primary reasons he eventually accepted a call to our church was so his lasting legacy would be more than a VBS song sung to "Louie, Louie.") Cleaned up, prepped for the next day, came home. Was planning on buying a new television online that night and then talked to Dan on the phone: his office is merging with the office in Buffalo. His job should be safe but no tv was purchased. Grownups freak out, kids go on playing, we eat dinner, play with kids and go to bed.

Wednesday: Go to our favorite diner for breakfast with three kids. Alec eats great but gets maple syrup in his hair. Jenna order sunny side up eggs, sausage, homefries and toast; loves the toast ("It's so BUTTERY!") and insists on calling the potatoes tomatoes. Announces she wouldn't get sunny side up eggs again. Go to Lowe's to get a pad for under the new rug, go to Michael's and get supplies to make 5 puppy costumes for Jenna's Lip Sync group. Come home, wolf down lunch, go to VBS, teach 22 very happy and comfortable kindergartners, say the phrase,"Boys and girls! Let's sit on our bottoms on the seat!" as nicely as I can 43 times, play Good Samaritan tag, which is a big hit, clean up, go home, go back to church, eat some pizza, talk to Dan, and enjoy an hour long wrap up program for the VBS. Coach our class through the award-worthy performance of "Jesus Loves Me" and our Bible Verse. Completely forget to videotape it. Do remember to videotape Michaela's and she does great. Come home, put kids to bed, and collapse into our bed.

Thursday: Make cinnamon rolls for breakfast and am so trained to only have them on holidays, I smell them and get a urge to make cranberry sauce. Put down new rug pad and rug, roll up old one and put it in the basement. Straighten up basement with help from the girls. Girls play outside in the snow. Friends come over for a playdate. Bring Michaela to a Lip Sync rehearsal. Pick her up and she has a hard time transitioning back to our house. Tell Michaela she will have a consequence after Daddy and I talk about it. Dan comes home and we talk about what he's heard at work. Dan approves of the new rug. Jenna very casually asks, while twirling her hair, about Michaela's consequence, just in case we forget. Michaela cries while anticipating punishment. Dan and I discuss, then bring Michaela in, and settle the issue: no iPod or computer for a week. I make dinner, we eat, clean up, play with the kids, and go to bed.

Friday: Wake up to another snowstorm. Alec and I doze on the couch until 8:30am. The girls play outside in the snow. The girls make a snowman. The girls unsuccessfully request to make sno cones with snow and food coloring. No dice. Jenna has a friend come over. I try to have Alec take a nap but he's not interested. I order Inception through my cable box so I can watch it before the Oscars Sunday. Watch 15 minutes before I have to turn it off. Michaela requests to sew, makes a huge mess with pins, fabric, and thread and then walks into the family room to watch a movie. I feed everyone lunch while trying to write a post on all I did this week.

Re-read post and understand why I'm so tired all the time.

Valentine's Wrap Up.

2011-02-16T17:03:00.002-05:00

Here are pictures of my three funny Valentines from Monday morning. The girls insisted on both wearing pigtails and headbands and matching shirts. I am relishing every holiday they want to match because I know that it is only a matter of time before they refuse to dress and look alike.

While going through a binder of Michaela's on Monday morning, I found this written out:

"Pieces of my Heart"

100% Family

99% SpongeBob

95% Friends

55% Soccer
50% School

40% Nature

And I think what this tells me is that I have been underestimating how much my kids love a cartoon sponge.

The other excitement of the day, which I posted on Facebook, was that Michaela found in her backpack a full-sized KitKat bar with a large SpongeBob valentine taped to it from a boy in her class. When she asked him about it: Did you put this in my backpack?, he apparently panicked and said, "Um, no." Even though it was signed with his first and last name. Michaela was totally freaked by this rather overt gesture and when she arrived home she immediately called Dan to ask what she should do. He told her the same thing I did, that it would be nice of her to thank him for the candy the next day. It was very sweet.

The girls had fun parties in their classrooms and both came home with a bag full of valentines and candy. Dan bought both of them a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a picture of dogs on the cover.

It was a good day.

Out and About with Cheryl.

2011-02-14T15:00:00.002-05:00

Happy Valentine's Day to the love of my life, my hardworking, adorable, loyal, loving, and teeniest-bit-OCD Dan.

We got engaged right around Valentine's Day and celebrated our 15th Valentine's Day this year by going out to dinner to a new restaurant and had a blast. I was lucky to go out twice this past weekend; once with Dan and once with three of my bestie girls to celebrate a 40th birthday of one of us. And the important thing to remember is that it was not me. Because I am much, much younger than all of my friends. Really. I am.
It was so nice to get out of the house, showered, dressed appropriately, and enjoying good food. And the six glasses of wine between the two dinners helped, too.
I really, really needed some time out of the house and away from the kids.

Michaela and Jenna thought otherwise, and when I saw them on Saturday morning, Michaela was giving me a blow by blow description of what happened. I couldn't sleep, she told me. Daddy let us stay up late. We watched a Charlie Brown Valentine's Day special. That all sounded fine.

Then she hit me with The Guilt: "When I was having trouble sleeping last night, I started counting up all the hours I was with you yesterday. And do you know how many it was? FIVE HOURS! That's IT!! FIVE HOURS!!"

"You'll survive," I told her.

Because an "Out and About" post isn't complete without a few good Walmart stories, here are the latest:

1. Around the time of Michaela's birthday, I bought a bunch of gifts for her at Walmart. They were mostly small plastic toys of some incarnation or another, and I think they totalled about $100. A Hispanic girl my age (you know, young) was checking me out at the register and struck up a conversation.

Girl, in a deep, fast paced, Rosie-Perez-accented voice: This all for your daw-ta?
Me: Yeah, it's her birthday this Friday.
Girl: Humph. If I was you, I'd put some of this away for Christmas.
Me, laughing nervously: Yeah, well, she's a good girl.
Girl: This is alotta stuff. Put it away for Christmas.

And for months, I've been been repeating the phrase This all for your daw-ta? under my breath to myself. It's somehow mesmerizing.

2. You know how there are greeters at the door of Walmart? They welcome you in when you arrive and as you leave they scan your cart for large items and sometimes ask to see your receipt to double check that you are not stealing the box of diapers or 12 rolls of paper towels. Most of them are very nice and friendly and pleasant, and because I usually go the same day and time every week, I generally see the same employees. There is one lady who does the greeting and checking and she is a real piece of work. She's one of those deceptive people who appears fairly normal- pleasant, even- the first time you talk to her but then you quickly realize that she's insane.

So the first time I go through, I of course have Alec with me and she makes a big fuss over him. "Who's the handsome little man?" she asks, and I tell her his name is Alec and she wants to know how old he is and I tell her. Then of course she makes a comment about him not wearing shoes (because all of Walmart is out to reform my atrocious parenting habits, for sure) and launches into her OWN story. And I hear the whole thing: she has five kids, her oldest is 34 and her youngest is 17 and she's divorced from their dad and she whips out her cell phone and shows me the picture of the puppy her ex husband bought her youngest WITHOUT CONSULTING HER, and she could kill him but now her daughter loves the dog so she has to keep it.
And I'm all, "Uhhh... here's my receipt for the paper towels."
And then I make some lame comment about how busy she must be and high tail it out of there.

So the second time I see her, I of course have Alec and she makes a big fuss over him. "Who's the handsome little man?" she asks, and I tell her- again- that his name is Alec and she wants to know how old he is and I tell her. And then she tells me, "I have five of my own: my oldest is 34 and my youngest is 17. And my youngest is supposed to be with my ex for the vacation and instead he called and asked if I can keep her the whole week and I said, How am I supposed to drive her around?"
And I'm all, "Uhhh... here's my receipt for the diapers."

So the third time I see her, it's handsome man, how old, I have five kids, oldest is 34 and youngest is 17 and before she launches into the Ex-Husband Story of the Day, I just say, "Wow! You must be REALLY BUSY!" all enthusiastic and she is cut off at the pass.

Then the next time, which is like two days later, it's handsome, old, five, 34, 17, and as she's reaching for the cellphone picture to show me I just smile, say, "WOW! SOOO BUSY!" and walk out.

Same Kid. Different Cleansers.

2011-02-09T18:35:00.002-05:00

I'm starting to get a complex that Alec thinks our house is really dirty.

Surrender.

2011-02-07T17:20:00.007-05:00

A few weeks ago now, I had a dream that I decided to move from our new(ish) house to my aunt's house, which is in a very rural part of our county and in a different school district. The dream itself was very realistic, as some dreams are, and filled with incredible minute details that made perfect sense and made the whole thing seem like it was actually happening. The dream culminated with me standing in her kitchen and looking around and thinking, "What have I done?"

Don't get me wrong: I love my aunt's house. It is the place I was at most often after my own house, and her house is filled to the brim with memories of Christmas and birthdays and countless sleepovers and lazy summer afternoons and always, always plenty of good food. I know my brother has the same strong connection to it because despite any changes we experienced in life, her house has remained a constant source of comfort since we've both been alive.

But moving there is just not an option for our three kids and two adults for a host of reasons.

I ended up waking up at 2:30am, breathing quite heavily and very, very happy that I do not have to pack up all of my belongings and move again.

I talked this over with my friend Angel who also moved this summer to a new house. "What do you think it's about?" I asked her. We talked about it for a bit and I came to the conclusion that it was about surrendering emotionally to our new house.

Because for months after we moved in, as I was wrestling with managing the new mortgage payment, moving expenses, all of the surprise costs of that fateful day in August when we had the car! the knee! the fire! issues, all the little things one has to buy when moving into a new house (the most unglamorous: three new toilet seats and a few new doorknobs), I knew logically it would all be fine but I half expected someone to knock on the door and say, "Look, there's been a terrible mistake and you can't live here anymore." I have a sign above the front door that says, With God all things are possible, and for weeks every time I read it, I added even living in this house silently to myself. I was living in it but still had my guard up that someday it would all be over.

Well, the guard is dropped and the bottom line is this: I am having a torrid, torrid love affair with my house. And I have surrendered to it.

I love the space we have. I love the view out the back windows. I love that we can eat breakfast on the deck in the summer and feel like we're on vacation. I love our bedroom. I love our bathroom. I love the potential we have in the basement. I love the kitchen and the storage and the kids each having their own room. I love the recessed lights in the family room and putting the fireplace on. I love our sledding hill, our office (or "The Studies Room", as Jenna calls it) where the girls do homework, the pantry, and the front hall. I love that I see great views of the ever-changing sky out our front arch window. I love the neighborhood, I love living 90 seconds from my parents, I love that most of the kids in Michaela and Jenna's classes live in our development. I love having space to have people over and not worry about where they'll all sit.

Now that we have lived here almost 7 months, I have a better feeling that everything is going to work out fine. The girls are adjusted to new schools and new friends, we know our neighbors, and even paying the bills is okay. No one is going to take it away from us. It's our house and will be for a long, long time.

Introducing... Clara Barton.

2011-01-28T08:51:00.003-05:00

Today is book report day! Michaela has a five-notecard presentation all set to deliver to her class today about the life of Clara Barton, Angel of the Battlefield. She was a really remarkable woman, waaaay ahead of her time, who was a teacher, founded a free public school, tended to Civil War soldiers, connected missing soldiers with their worried families, and went on the bring the Red Cross to America.

I, of course, was mostly giddy about making a costume, any kind of costume, and was planning on winging the whole thing. When I went to buy the black fabric and lace to replicate the outfit Ms. Barton is wearing on the cover of the book,
I had the idea to peruse through a pattern book to get some ideas about how to construct it. I found a perfect pattern and then happened to glance up and see the patterns were on sale for 99 cents each. 99 cents!!! It was divine intervention. Though you can't see it, I even made a petticoat for her to wear underneath it, and thank goodness for the Internet, who makes it possible that at 9pm on a Tuesday night you can google "how to make a petticoat" and three sets of easy to follow instructions pop up. I had so much fun working on it and I think Michaela looks awesome in the outfit.

And the best part? The same pattern makes PILGRIM COSTUMES.

500th Post.

2011-01-27T16:02:00.002-05:00

Can you believe it? This is, officially, my 500th little bit of love that I have written and sent out to the world. I have tried for several days to come up with something incredibly witty and funny and touching and moving to encompass this process I embarked upon several years ago, but alas, it IS January and the sky is VERY gray and the snow is VERY deep and I AM at home all day with a 16 month who doesn't talk much and I DID pick up five times yesterday the same recycled cereal box because the 16 month old kept opening the pantry door and taking said cereal box out of the recycling bucket and dropping it on the floor and thus I AM a bit at loose ends, so this instead is what I have to share.

I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to write a few times a week and work through what is going on in my life.
I am incredibly blessed to have people who read and respond to what I write and say nice things about it.
I am incredibly happy that if something- anything- ever happened to me, my three children will have a large cache of writing that is in my voice, and they will have a written record of how much I love them, what I think about a variety of subjects, and how funny it is to shop at Walmart. I feel like they will always have a sense of who I was as a person.
I am incredibly thankful that I take a few minutes every week to write what my kids are up to, both because I have a horrible memory about those kinds of things and because it is a blast to look back and see who much they've grown and changed.

For today, I have these things to report:
Alec has started opening his mouth wide and sighing a big, breathy, "Ahhhhhh..." after he has drank from a glass, as if that particular liquid was the most refreshing he's ever tasted.
Jenna is currently having a love affair with Fruit Roll Ups. She would eat three or four a day if I let her, which I don't.
Michaela had her first orchestra concert last night, where she performed a few songs on her viola and sang in the 4th/5th grade choir. She was a nervous wreck but did a great job. We were so proud of her and really enjoyed the whole concert. Jenna has declared that she wants to play the flute.
Alec has skipped over all things Dora and Diego and has gone straight to SpongeBob. I have to admit that I'm relieved: I'm a bit Dora'd out.
Michaela is dressing up tomorrow in a Clara Barton costume I made for her and delivering a book report about Ms. Barton in front of her class. Pictures will be taken and promptly posted. I'm very excited.
Just like me, Alec is obsessed with M&Ms.
"Babysitting Mama" is THE MOST ANNOYING Wii game EVER. And I'm a big fan of Wii games.
Jenna is learning how to read and writes on anything she can get her hands on. The only downside to school, in her opinion, is the lack of vacation days scheduled for kindergartners.
I was watching Alec sleep the other day and he looked so much like Michaela it took my breath away.

Life is good here, and I am happy and blessed and grateful.
I'll keep writing if you keep reading.

The Question Is: Does He Also Do Windows?

2011-01-24T13:49:00.002-05:00

I Want To Tell You by The Beatles.

2011-01-15T21:23:00.002-05:00

This is the song.

This is the song you listened to when you first started getting into music... not just the stuff that everyone else was listening to, not just the stuff that was playing on the radio, though you knew that you've loved music and how it made you feel since you were a little girl, sitting on the yellow counter in kitchen of the first house you ever lived in, watching Solid Gold on a 13 inch black and white tv. You could have crawled into that tv you loved that show so much, with its glitzy dancers and live performances. "Talking in Your Sleep" by The Romantics was the first song you ever knew all the words to, and you loved it.

This was the song that you listened to a few months after you first heard a Mamas and Pappas song, "California Dreaming", you think it was, on the overhead speakers when you were out to dinner with your family. You were completely mesmerized by its sound and dreaminess and when you asked your parents if they knew what it was, they said, "Sure... I think we have it on a record at home," and you rush through that dinner as quickly as you can so you can hear it again. And they do have that album, and tons of other albums by great artists of that time, some with the cellophane still on them, which cracks you up because it makes it seems like they were just recently bought, which is even more hilarious because your parents are old, with two kids and jobs and responsibilities, and this cellophane makes it seems like they just ran down to the record store last week to buy this.

This is the song that you listened to when you used to listen to music in your family room of the next house you lived in, on a fairly good sound system with a record player on top, and you wore huge, remarkably cushioned headphones with a long curled cord that plugged you into that sound, that beautiful sound, as you laid on the floor twirling and stretching that cord. The cord was black and smooth and vaguely powdery and many times you zone out listening to the music and when you came back to Earth you realize you were rubbing the cord against your face. This set up worked beautifully for you, because you were with your family but not, connected to them but in your own little world: you could see your grandmother sitting at the kitchen table, her face in profile; your mom standing at the kitchen sink, always working but also glancing at you every once in a while; your dad sitting in the recliner watching tv and unwinding; and your brother coming in and out of the room, playing and always in motion. You love them wildly but are starting to need your own space and time and place and this area of the room is yours, to listen to what you want, and somehow the idea that you hear things that they don't helps put a little distance between them and you.

This is the song that you listened to over and over and over again, mostly because you had a mad, mad crush on a boy in your high school who didn't really give you the time of day, which is kind of ironic, because one of the only times he ever spoke to you it was to literally ask you what time it was, and you panicked because you've never been a strong time-teller, and you always wished he had asked you a different question. This song summed it up perfectly: there was so much for you to tell him, so much time and emotion spent on him, invested in him, and if only he knew. If he only knew.

This is the song you hadn't thought about or heard for years, and then tonight after your nine year old daughter was searching iTunes for songs to purchase for her iPod, you got on the computer and started poking around and remembered that all the Beatles songs were now available. So you start looking at the list of Beatles songs, so many of them associated with powerful memories of growing up, and you stumble across this song and you of course buy it.

And you listen to it and you remember every word.
And it is rich and nostalgic and beautiful.

And you think of all that's happened between then and now, the people you have gained and lost, the experiences you've had, the changes in the world- records? headphones? cords? Seriously?- since then, and the multitude of other music you've fallen in love with between then and now: Sinead O'Connor. The Doors. CSNY. The Stone Roses. Simon and Garfunkel. Coldplay. The Killers. Nelly Furtado. Kanye. JT. David Gray. These songs are the soundtrack to your life.
And now here you are, old(er), with three kids and jobs and responsibilities, and when you make your daughter listen to this song, this song that has spoken to you for decades now, and you are so eager for her to hear it and love it like you do, she rolls her eyes and says, "I want to listen to my song now" and your realize that her music is hers and creating her space from you.

And that is rich and nostalgic and beautiful.

Alec Update

2011-01-10T16:13:00.003-05:00

Poor third children. Always getting the shaft.
I realized that I haven't done a full update on my baby boy lately and this realization coincided with him starting to do a few cute things that deserve to be immortalized here.

Alec is 15 months now, and finally made the switch to walking 100% a few weeks ago. He started toddling a few steps here and there, and in a display of carefulness and sensibility that I hope grows with him, took a full 4 to 5 weeks to master walking and make the switch to that being his preferred mode of transport. He still looks like a drunk sailor some of time, especially if he's tired, but for the most part does a great job. He has tasted freedom from carrying and carts and strollers a few times in the grocery store and Walmart with fairly disastrous results: he takes off like a rocket, toddles wherever the heck he wants and flagrantly disregards my lame attempts of offering a hand for him to hold. Alec has also mastered the stairs and freely goes up and down, especially to follow his sisters.

We went for his 15 month checkup last week and he is in the 90th percentile for height, 75th for weight and has a huge head. He is losing some of his baby fat and getting longer and leaner and less dumpling like. He says few real words (his favorite being ba-ba for baby, bottle and SpongeBob) but babbles alot. As I expected, the pediatrician is recommending I get him screened for speech therapy and I am going to get that ball rolling this week. He doesn't seem to be that frustrated by his lack of words, which I guess is a good thing.

He has totally shunned using his booster seat at the dinner table, preferring to stand on a chair and eat like the big people do. This has of course resulted in him falling from the chairs onto the tile floor several times. If we force him to sit in the booster, he screams during the whole meal and then no one is happy, so we're in a bit of a bind here.

One of his favorite things to play with are the grilling spatulas we keep underneath the sink. He'll casually get them out a few times a day, dragging the metal spatula against the tile floor, sometimes just walking around and sometimes moving it back and forth, almost like he's vacuuming. He must love the sound. Of course he just drops them when he's done, so at any point in the day, I am stepping on or picking up metal grilling instruments. He also loves balls, trucks, cars, anything with music or noise, and rough housing.

He seems to really enjoy being in the kitchen with me, sitting on the counter or watching me move around as I cook or bake. The greatest thing he does, which started a few weeks ago, is when he hears the oven timer go off, he opens his mouth as wide as he can, scrunches his nose and covers his mouth while gasping. The kid knows that a beeping oven means hot, fresh cookies. He's no dummy.

The other day he really made me laugh: I was baking something in the oven, and when he heard the timer go off, he toddled over to the drawer where I keep the oven mitts and pulled them out and handed them to me. He's a good little sous chef.

He is in love with his sisters, cries when his dad leaves for work ("It's good to feel loved", says the dad of two daughters who never cared when he left the house), and when you ask him for a kiss, he shakes his head no and giggles. He is just starting to give open mouthed kisses when he's in the mood. He is beginning to find SpongeBob entertaining but has no go-to activity that is guaranteed to hold his interest. He is starting to enjoy being read to, and not just so he can slam the book shut on your fingers, which is how he's "read" for the last 6 months. He sleeps through the night and is the snuggliest of my three babies.

He is a good, good baby. And he is well on his way to not being a baby anymore.

Happy New Year.

2011-01-04T12:47:00.002-05:00

Do you know what made my New Year's Eve one of our best ever?

It wasn't that we went to a great restaurant for dinner... but we did.
It wasn't that the restaurant had a special raspberry martini and I ordered it and it was goo...oood... but I did.
It wasn't that we spent the evening with some of my favorite people in the whole world... but we did.
It wasn't that I left Alec with a babysitter for the first time and he did great... but he did.
It wasn't that while we were gone, the kids all put together a Live Nativity production and then performed it for us, giving us all hope that the weeks and months and years of Sunday School and church teaching are sinking in... but they did.
It wasn't that we hung out for hours together with a roaring fire and freshly made margaritas, waiting for midnight... but we did.
It wasn't the coincidence that six of the eight kids all had coordinating pajamas on, so they looked super cute together... but they did.
It wasn't that Alec fell asleep around 9:30pm and despite the noise of seven kids with noisemakers running around still stayed asleep and generally was positively easy and excellent... but he was.
It wasn't that Jenna kept calling the ball in Times Square "The Diamond"... but she did.
It wasn't that at 11:50pm, glasses of champagne in flutes were passed out for the adults to enjoy at midnight... but they were.
It wasn't that we all stayed awake to ring in a new year, thanking God for a blessed, happy, busy, healthy year full of friends and children and new houses and good times... but we did.
It wasn't that I got to kiss my honey at midnight and look forward to another year together and our 15th wedding anniversary this fall... but I did.

No, the best part of New Year's this year is that twice I have gotten pregnant in this day in the last ten yen years... but this year I DIDN'T.

Phew.
Happy New Year.
Thanks for reading.

Things I Want to Remember About This Christmas. (And it Hasn't Even Come Yet.)

2010-12-23T13:15:00.002-05:00

... how good it felt to start shopping early this year... how Michaela repeatedly called her Christmas blouse "Dutch" because it has puffy sleeves... how grown up Alec looks in his Christmas vest and corduroys... how fun it was to find new spots for old decorations at the new house... how cozy it felt the night I addressed our Christmas cards: tree on, fire roaring, feeling peaceful... how happy I was to discover a new cookie recipe: tender gingersnaps... how angelic the kids looked in the Christmas card... how nice my mom was to babysit while I wrapped gifts... how good it feels to be all done by December 23rd... how much I'm looking forward to being with family on Christmas Eve and Day... how excited Uncle Jimmy is for Christmas to be at his new house... how chaotic Christmas Day will be with three one year olds and three other kids... how Alec is starting to walk but still looks drunk when he does it... how fun it was to look forward to the Christmas specials with the girls, especially Charlie Brown Christmas... how many times the girls worriedly asked if they were getting coal for Christmas... how beautiful the soft light of the candles in our windows look at night when we go to bed... how Michaela asks me to turn her candles off every night because she apparently doesn't find their glow as beautiful... how good the oranges sent by my aunt and uncle were this year... how Jenna asked me many, many pointed questions about Santa Claus...how yummy the fudge we made was... how Alec seems to enjoy Christmas M&Ms as much as I do... how much I am blessed... how much I love my friends and family... how much I treasure every minute of the holidays with my (growing) little family.

Merry Christmas.

Recent Conversations at 3am.

2010-12-22T16:53:00.002-05:00

This week, with Christmas looming large before us, we've had some interesting nighttime adventures with the kids. Well, with Michaela and Jenna, since we threw Alec into his crib a few weeks ago and let him cry it out, which he did with little gusto (certainly nothing like the strong will and anger that his five year old sister displayed when we did the same thing to her four years ago) and now he sleeps through the night.

No, this is the Big Girls, who slither into our bedroom with the carpeting softening their footsteps to near silence, so when they get to my side of the bed (and why is it ALWAYS my side?) I am generally still sound asleep and when they lean over me, mere inches from my face and say, "Mom?" I wake with such a terrified start that it takes me 30 minutes just to get my heartrate back down.

Finally last week I laid down the law: IF you HAVE to come into our room at night, stand at the doorway and call my name, because you're scaring the bejeepers out of me.

And these are the reasons I have been startled out of a sound sleep:

"My ear feels empty."
"My hand is asleep."
"My nose hurts."
"I can't sleep."

My recent favorite came at 10pm, when Michaela came downstairs and told me this: "Spit is squirting into my mouth and when I swallow, more squirts in."
"Why don't you get a drink of water?" I suggested.
"No! I don't want a drink of water!"
"Well, Michaela, I don't know how to fix this problem. Go back to bed."

The other morning Michaela woke up super early- around 5:45am- and came downstairs where I was laying on the couch with Alec. Shivering, she pulled her arms out of her sleeves and hugged herself. "Grab a blanket, Michaela, if you're cold," I told her kindly. "No! I don't want a blanket!" she replied. Well, okay then.

This is what I call a Posterity Post: When the girls are older and ask why I have so much gray hair, or they have their own children who pull these kinds of stunts, I can smile sweetly and point them to this entry.

Taking a Moment.

2010-12-20T17:24:00.003-05:00

O Holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary world world rejoices
for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees!
O hear the angel voices!
O night divine; O night that Christ was born.
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
and in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we
Let all within us praise His Holy Name.

Christ is the Lord! Forever, ever praise thee!
Noel!
Noel!
O Night that Christ was born.
Noel! Noel!
O night, O night divine.

And that's what Christmas is all about.

Haircuts and Cookies.

2010-12-14T14:23:00.003-05:00

My baby boy Alec, who is quickly becoming less and less a baby each day, got his first haircut on Monday.

Our hairdresser Erin, who performed the first haircuts on the girls, did a great job.

He is now neat and trim, just in time for getting his picture taken today at Picture People. That also turned out adorable: Alec standing up, on his own, against a black background.

We did a little Christmas shopping and then came home to bake some cookies.

Alec helped.

Here is some photodocumentation of all these events.

On Being Worn Out.

2010-12-13T20:04:00.002-05:00

I, like most of America, was pretty fascinated by the interview Oprah Winfrey gave last week to Barbara Walters. I have grown up watching Oprah, from afterschool to after work to on maternity leave to being home and looking forward to it as a time out for me. Nowadays I can watch maybe once every two weeks, as the four o'clock hour in my house has become increasingly chaotic with afterschool homework, discussions about the day at school, beginning dinner preparations, and caring for a one year old.
I honor her desire to strive for greatness, her motivational speeches, her work ethic, her honesty, and her integrity. I think she's a great human being.
Part of her interview was about what she wants to do with her life, and how she wants God to wear her out: use up everything she's got to help other people.

And all I can think of is how obvious it is that she is not raising children.

I am struggling right now with the question of What Is My Purpose On Earth, and I completely and fully embrace and adore that God has blessed me with three healthy children to raise. But is there more? Am I so exhausted by meeting the day to day demands of these little miracles that I can't even imagine life beyond their childhood? I trust that God has a wondrous, meaningful plan for me that will become clear as time goes on: if anything, God's plan has always been fairly clear for me.
Because I want God to wear me out, too, and use me for greatness.

But after waking up at 5:45am, making breakfasts and lunches for the kids, sending them off to school, giving Alec a bath, getting myself and Alec dressed and out the door, going grocery shopping, managing Alec's first haircut, taking pictures of my suddenly grown-up-looking boy, grabbing some lunch, going to my parents' house, making 15 pounds of fudge for Christmas parties and gifts, coming home, checking my mental to-do list, unpacking groceries, answering emails, talking to the girls when they get home, putting some new family pictures in frames, getting dinner ready, helping Jenna with her homework, reminding Michaela to practice her viola, negotiating too-numerous-to-count peace treaties between the girls, making dinner, clearing the table, doing the dishes, talking with Dan about his day, supervising two reluctant shower-takers, one in one bathroom and one in the other, getting their jammies on, drying their hair, blogging, playing with Alec, and putting the girls to bed.... I am completely worn out and totally used up.

Mom greatness is just different than Greatness-With-a-Capital-G-Greatness.
It's not flashy, it's not breathtaking, it's quiet and it's a marathon.
It is ego-less and it is not about me in the least.
It is not about MY greatness, but Michaela, Jenna and Alec's Greatness.
And I love them.

Nothing's Wrong; I'm Just Blonde.

2010-12-06T15:43:00.002-05:00

I was super excited to get an early start on my Christmas card this year.
I got the Christmas outfits early, got the picture taken early, and in a rapid-fire swirl of efficiency, made up the card online and had them printed.
When I proudly showed off my creation to Dan, he said,"Mmm, nice pictures. But you didn't put OUR names on the card."

Ooooooohhhhhh, right.

I just signed them "With love from Michaela, Jenna and Alec John".
Well, no biggie, I thought. People will certainly make the jump that it's from our family.
Which would have worked out well, except for this little detail: halfway through assembling the cards, I realized that the return address label I was using was a preprinted label I got for free from Disabled Veterans, labels I was (trying to be) so proud to be using instead of my usual plan of buying new custom labels. We did buy a new house this year, you know. And these labels read: Cheryl B. Libutti.

So here I thought I was really ahead of the curve, on a train to Practical-ville, when it hit me: Dan's name is NOWHERE on this card. Nowhere.

So if you knew us from our old neighborhood, it is entirely possible that you will get our card and think, "Oh, how sad. Made that move and that must have done their marriage in."
Or, "What the heck happened to DAN??"

So let me assure you 100% that we are 1) still very happily married; 2) healthy and all alive; 3) a thoroughly intact family.

And we ALL wish you a Merry Christmas.

Meet the Sicky McSickersons.

2010-12-02T08:20:00.002-05:00

Four out of the five of us have a stomach bug. A bad one.
It has been a miserable few days.
Michaela is the only one unscathed.
Alec started on Tuesday night by puking all over me at dinnertime. (Side note-now all three of the kids have puked directly on me.) Then it was Jenna, then me, then Dan.
I feel like I've been hit by a truck.
The silver lining: I stepped on my scale today and have lost about 8 pounds.

Jenna, Alec and I hunkered down all together on the couch for a three hour nap yesterday. When we all woke up, Jenna looked around and asked, "How long did we sleep for? Have we been sleeping for, like, three days? Did Michaela go back to school?" And it took me quite a while to convince her that it was the same day.

I am wishing I could sleep until next week and wake up all better.

Turkey Time Out 2010, Part 2.

2010-11-29T21:10:00.002-05:00

In my somewhat bucolic description of our weekend, I forgot to mention that the girls were utterly fascinated by the turkey timer-popper-thing and insisted on keeping it after we carved the turkey. So we washed it and gave it to them.

Jenna chased her brother and sister the rest of the weekend, wearing thin cotton gloves they use when they are playing doctor or dentist, waving the timer-popper in her hand, saying, "It's time for your flu shot! Come get your fluuuuuu shot!"

And they both screamed and ran/crawled/creeped away from her in terror.

It was the kind of moment when I thought, "You know, sometimes these blog entries just write themselves."

Turkey Time Out 2010.

2010-11-29T15:15:00.003-05:00

So we just wrapped up a fabulous, restful Thanksgiving weekend. And I had to promise Dan that we'd only be eating leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner two more times.

After I got back from my Chicago weekend away (and let's take a moment to remember that...no diaper changes for FOUR DAYS!), I got right to work baking and cooking for Thanksgiving. I made apple pie, soft gingersnap cookies, some Christmas cookies, yeast rolls, and Pilgrim hat cookies with the girls. (It was a wonderful flashback to the kinds of hats my people wore back when I was a Pilgrim. Ahh, memories.) I also of course had to clean, get the table linens ready, grocery shop several times, etc, etc, etc- all the stuff you do to host a holiday. It all went really smoothly and before I knew it, it was Thursday morning. After our traditional holiday breakfast of cinnamon rolls (and it seems like each year we all eat more and more of them, but I blame that on the fact that every few years we add another mouth to feed) we watched a little of the parade (watching the Rockettes do their line kick kind of makes me cry with happiness, and I can 't quite put my finger on why) and the dog show while we started cooking. Pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce, brie en crote, dips, sides, gravy, turkey, stuffing, cucumber salad, mashed potatoes- all of it got ready and made it's way to the table.

We had 10 people total, and five of them were us: we added Dan's dad, his aunt and uncle and my parents. It was a lovely day, pretty calm and relaxed, and I think everyone had a great day.

Friday came, and as much as I love going shopping on Black Friday and have for years, between Alec's morning schedule and the fact that I really didn't need to BUY anything, I skipped a shopping trip. We finished cleaning up and then started decorating for Christmas. First I had to say goodbye to my favorite Harvest-y themed decorations, which I am ridiculously attached to, and bid them farewell until next September. (Sigh.) But then we started getting out the tree and the ornaments and the garland and the spotlight and the candles and oh, my, it was lots of fun. We got it all together by the end of the day and then sat around our electric meter and watched it spin with all the decorative lights on. Good times!

Saturday and Sunday were quiet days; I tackled my humongous pile of junk and papers and things that need to be filed and whittled it down to a manageable level, all the while promising myself for the 372nd time that I'll certainly never, ever let it get to that level again. The girls went to a sleepover party at my cousin's house and had a great time. Dan and I and Alec went to his aunt and uncle's for dinner and were amazed at how quiet it was without them. And we missed them.
We capped off Sunday night by watching a Hallmark movie called "Christmas in November" about a 8 year old girl with cancer (she lives) whose parents speed up the holidays so she can enjoy them in case she doesn't survive. It was a charming movie, but I cried through the vast majority of it all while holding my sleeping baby and constantly smelling him to make sure he was real and here and not dying of cancer. Gut wrenching.

I have a relatively quiet week ahead of me which I will certainly quickly fill up. But the four day weekend with my family was long and pretty leisurely and we were so happy to host a big holiday at our new house, not only because we can now comfortably fit our extended family into rooms without their elbows touching, but especially because we got to keep all the leftovers.

Heaven.

Little Girl in the Big City.

2010-11-23T18:30:00.005-05:00

I am back from my mini-vacation to Chicago and I am happy to report the following:

1. I did not change any diapers while I was there.

2. My children are all still alive.

3. My flights were flawless.

4. The Art Institute of Chicago is amazing. And peaceful. And quiet. And beautiful.

5. My brother and I both love riding the train.

6. I slept through the night each night I was there.

7. There is nothing as comfy as sitting on Brian and Beth's couch, eating M&Ms with your jammies on and a big blanket covering you while you watch Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Heaven.
8. I had a wonderful dose of fresh perspective while I was travelling by myself.

9. Seeing a Renoir painting in real life is indescribable... something about seeing the light bounce off the actual painting makes it appear to glow with dazzling color.

10. Sunset is the best time to go to the 96th floor of the John Hancock Center and enjoy a relaxing drink as the lights of the city come on and twinkle all around you.

11. If you eat at a restaurant in Chicago's Greektown, you will not only taste the best spanakopita you've ever tasted, they will set cheese on fire and it will be a-MA-zing.

12. I was able to sit around a roaring outside chiminea fire on Saturday night and talk to other adults for several hours without once being interrupted.

I had a wonderful time and was happy to come home and see my babies and my honey.

Many thanks to Brian and Beth for making my weekend so special!!

Reason #2.

2010-11-17T16:50:00.003-05:00

I just realized that while I'm in Chicago on my vacation, it will be the first time in over nine years that I will not be changing diapers and coming face to face with someone else's poop.

NINE YEARS.
Wow.

Reason #1 Why I Need a Vacation.

2010-11-16T09:04:00.002-05:00

I was woken up by one of my three children at 2:30am, 3:30am, 4:30am, 5:30am, 6:30am, and 7am. That's not sleeping; it's napping while it's dark.

One time I was woken up to address this pressing issue: "Mommy, when I swallow, my whole body feels fuzzy."

Even in daylight, I can't fix that one. It is especially difficult to handle at 3:30am.

At 6:30am I was woken up by Michaela to see if it was okay for her to take a shower.

Thursday night cannot come soon enough.

On Being Home, Being a Mom, Time, Swimming, and Altered States.

2010-11-13T11:26:00.003-05:00

A few days ago I posted on Facebook that it was 1:30pm, I was still in my pajamas, I was doing things around the house, like laundry and changing sheets and Alec was following me around the whole day. I have to admit, I was a bit surprised by the comments I received about this, most of which were incredibly sweet and positive and indicated that others wished they were able to do the same things. I am sure that for someone working, getting up early, with a very structured day, a day of loosey-goosey working-in-my-pajamas activities would sound appealing, but I have to be honest with you: when I posted that I was sort of bored (not that there wasn't anything to do, just not anything that I was looking forward to doing), annoyed that I hadn't found time to shower and get dressed yet, tired of holding a clingy baby and a little lonely.

My friend Judy says it best: There's no utopia, baby. Someone else's life/schedule/stressors always look better than your own.

On that day, I would have really enjoyed being sort of put together- at least bathed and dressed in nice clothing, doing something I was getting paid for, interacting with other adults, working on something that was not immediately going to be undone.

And certainly I understand that I have an immense amount of freedom to create my own structure and projects and socialization time. And the ability to bathe and dress myself however I want. I can recreate that for myself, if my baby is able to tolerate me doing that.

But the last few years of my life have been a little like living in an altered state, filled to the brim with needy babies and busy school-age children and broken-up nights of sleep and incredible happiness and fullness and a lack of day-to-day structure and meeting the needs of four other people first and feeling overwhelmed and absent-minded and constantly being interrupted while I'm doing anything and loving things deeper than I've ever felt and experiencing totally uneven levels of productivity. It's like a dreamy, swirly, foggy- and pleasant- universe. I am really only held accountable to my babies, and my husband, and myself, and I have tremendous amounts of leeway to do things when I want, how I want, or not at all. I am protected quite a bit from the big, bad world outside and can easily be comforted by my cozy familiar surroundings. But with that comes this sense of isolation, and the sense of never getting anything done, especially since my clean kids get dirty again, the food I cook gets eaten, the clothes I wash are worn, and the items I pick up always manage to find their way out again.

It all seems able to slip through my fingers, especially time, and while I remember clearly when I stopped working to have Jenna, now I look at portraits of my babies on the wall, and they seem so incredibly big and grown up and I wonder where the time has gone.

And I realize: it has swirled around me all this time and I have been swimming in it, day after day, hour by hour, making and growing these wonderful children and here they are, happy and healthy and seemingly not headed towards being serial killers. Not yet, at least. And this is my work.

A few weeks ago at a party someone met my kids for the first time. "You have beautiful children," she said. "Thanks," I answered. "I grew them myself!" And I felt kind of silly for saying that afterwards, but then I kind of liked it. I did grow these kids myself, and I am pouring my heart and soul into them every day.

The trouble/curse/blessing with being home with little kids and a baby is that the day stretches out before you, full of promise. Or boredom. Or frustration. Or magic. And some days you don't shower, or get as much done as you thought you could or thought you should, and you are rushed or looking for something to do or someone to talk to. It's on you.

You are the master of that ship, and responsible for whether it- and you-sink or swim. I definitely know I am swimming, doing fine, very happy with my place in life. But there are some days when you are barely treading water, and a different life looks pretty good... just for that day.

There's no utopia, baby.

Happy.

2010-11-05T16:44:00.002-04:00

These things have helped me retain my sanity while I manage a weekend ahead without Dan, a bouncy fourth grader, a needy kindergartner who lost her watermelon-scented smencil on the bus today, and Mr. Clingy Von Clingster, who is teething and miserable:

1. Walmart: Okay, Walmart makes me happy no matter what's going on in my life, but I love it around the holidays when they start filling up the aisle displays with baking items, tins full of gingerbread spice cookies, endcaps with stuffing, cranberries and other holiday foods, and of course the ultimate sign of the holidays: bags of red, dark green and light green M&Ms. Something about Walmart's brilliant marketing and anticipating my needs as a consumer makes me feel... well, like I have to work less to buy the things I want. Because it's right there within easy reach. If only more areas of my life had the same devotion to anticipating my needs. Sigh.

2. Shopping channels: Oh, yes it IS time to start watching HSN and QVC. Last night I was beside myself as I flicked back and forth between Colin Cowie and his brilliant entertaining ideas and Bethlehem Nights Seasonal Lighting shows. All of it, I want all of it!!! And the ideas of how to use the items! So many suggestions! Battery powered LED lights and garlands and topiaries and you can set the lights to twinkle or steady and the indoor fireplace that Colin was touting which you hang on the wall and the co-host who I swear said the word, "LITERALLY!" about 382 times. ("LITERALLY, if you can hang a picture, you can LITERALLY hang this fireplace! LITERALLY!") I am mesmerized by the cheerfulness, the eagerness, the call-ins, the whole thing.

3. Christmas Music: I turned on Christmas music today to listen to while I folded laundry. I know it's early, and many, many people get very sick of Christmas music, but I love, love, love it.

4. Travel: Two weeks from today I will be in Chicago with my brother and his family. Hopefully on my third glass of wine.

My Boy, My Joy.

2010-11-04T13:05:00.001-04:00