Wednesday Night

It's Wednesday night.
Date night.
So we're waiting (and waiting and waiting) for the kids to go down so we can continue watching The War. Maybe even with a glass of wine.
Yup - we are PBS party animals.
But, even though the kids have been in bed for forty five minutes, they're not asleep yet. Caroline is lamenting, "I'm going to have this chunky cough forever. Dada, I have sniffles and a bad cough. You forgot to take my temperature."
Sam is on the toilet. With his sister's Cinderella cell phone that plays Ode to Joy as a ringtone. Saying, in a sing-songy sort of voice, "I'm all done pooping. I got lots of poop in there now."
Seriously.
I can't make this stuff up.
See?
And this is what Nate looked like in the bathtub tonight.
I'm still not quite sure how he got in this position.
Why can't the kids just look like this now?

I'm bad at playing catch-up, but will try later in the week to post some things from Christmas and this past week. If I ever get to bed tonight. At this rate, it's not looking good.

Merrry Christmas!

As I sort through the past week of pictures, I can't help but think of what a wonderful time we have had.
We're all just relaxing after the blizzard yesterday and trying to gear up for the days ahead.
PS - Can you believe everyone is smiling here? Well, except for Sam, who was able to sleep through the party...

Christmas Pageant

I just love the Christmas Pageant at OLA.
Even if the material is recycled every year, pageant is still a great time. The kid's (and teacher's) hard work really shows.
We learned our lesson last year and got there super early for decent seats...
Here is CJ getting ready for the big event (and yes, I am incapable of getting her to actually smile and pose normally for a picture):
And here is Sam keeping himself entertained during the event. We don't travel without trains:

During the finale of the pageant, I noticed Caroline was holding hands with the little girl next to her. Too cute, I say (sorry for the poor picture quality).
Here is the Pre-school class and their song, "Happy Birthday, Jesus."

More Birthday

Sam and Nate both know how to party.
In honor of Sam's birthday, Sammy came down with a case of strep throat and Nate's pesky ear infection re-surfaced.
After managing sick boys all day, I was in no condition to make a cake...
RIA TO THE RESCUE!!!!
And, despite having a big case of the yuckies, Sam had a wonderful time blowing out his candles.

A Day Late...Again

Ever since he mooned us at his 20 week ultrasound we've known we have a one-of-a-kind little man.
From this:

To this:

To this:
To now:




Here's to many, many more years of Sammy-being-Sammy.
We love you very, very much.

So.

It's the middle of December and here we are.
I so totally don't have my act together.
The house? A mess.
Christmas cards? Going out a few at a time.
Presents? Don't even go there.
And let's not mention that Caroline is asking for a baby elephant again this year.
But it will all get done. And if it doesn't? I suppose it just doesn't. And I'm okay with that (for now - don't remind me of what I just said next week. I will probably try to stab you. Don't say I didn't warn you).

But we did get some of our presents done this weekend. So act like you're surprised if you get a jar, okay? Methinks we will be picking rice crispies out of the rug for months...
It was fun. Perfect for a rainy, windy December Sunday.

Here we are at work.
And is that a glass of water sitting next to the mason jars?
Sure. Water in the form of ice cubes with a little gin & tonic for taste. It made the mess a wee bit easier for Mama to deal with.
Caroline's job was chopping pecans.
Sam was supposed to be helping me measure the rice crispies. And he was, in his own Sammy way. Good thing we bought a huge bag of cereal. There was, in our estimation, almost a pound on the floor, spilled in the box and (oh, yeah), in his belly.

But he was helping, and that's what matters, right? And who wouldn't want help like this?
Can you see now how the gin & tonic kinda helped things go a bit more smoothly?


Now that Sam is talking more and more, he is starting to rival his sister in phrases where you just have to sit here and either:
a-want to die because you're so mortified he said JUST the exact thing he has heard you say at EXACTLY the wrong place and time
b-want to laugh because you're so mortified he said JUST the exact thing he has heard you say at EXACTLY the wrong place and time

But we'll start with Caroline with this one. We decided to not purchase her school pictures this year. They're a bit pricey and they weren't great pictures. So I sent them back with her. I was standing with Caroline, a line of parents behind me, dropping her off in the morning when I heard her say to her teacher, "Here are my pictures. My Mommy says that we have better pictures of me that we don't have to pay for."
I couldn't get out of there fast enough. And I heard more than one chuckle behind me.

After meeting with Caroline's teacher and principal, we're doing a little more at home to try to challenge her (because when this girl gets bored, she gets in trouble - FAST). So she and I are reading Ramona the Brave. We're enjoying it and sometimes Sam likes to listen to us read, too. He was sitting with us during the part when the big boys were teasing Beezus by saying, "Jesus, Beezus," over and over.
Well, guess who remembered that part in the middle of Sunday mass and decided to repeat it (again and again and again) at one of his louder decibel settings?
No WONDER the lady that sits behind us give the kids origami made out of the bulletin! She's just trying to shut them up so she can hear mass!
Good times, I tell you.
Good times.

Thursday Night

I know that blogging has been sorely lacking recently.
The whole *working*and*being*a*wife*and*mother*thing*while*trying*to*stay*sane thing kind of gets in the way sometimes.
Lots of thoughts have been meandering their way through my brain recently.
But nothing coherent enough to hold an actual conversation about. I'm sure I'll expound more about most of them lately, anyways.
This is when living with people who are toddlers can take a toll on the brain.

I'm chuckling because of the running commentary coming from the bathtub right now. Jim has Sam in the tub. Jim is singing, "My Sammy lies over the ocean. My Sammy lies over the sea. My Sammy lies over the ocean. Bring back my Sammy to me." Sam is interjecting throughout it all, "I don't want to be over the ocean. I don't like the sea. DON'T make me lie in the ocean. I DON'T want to bring back to me." Gotta love that I'm so tired I can't do anything but contradict you time of night. During this all, Caroline is wrapping up Sam's p-jaffe's neck with an ACE bandage ("He hurt it, you know,") and Nate is doing his best to weasel out of the bouncy chair. Just your typical night in paradise, I tell you. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

The Christmas tree is up. This picture just about sums up the process of putting it up. It looks like she's about to gouge his eyes out, doesn't it? But if I have learned anything from motherhood, it's that reading a book out loud and making microwave popcorn can do much to diffuse a situation - so between those two strategies we were able to get everything up without anything breaking (people and ornaments).
Caroline is still very partial to her reindeer ornament:
Here are Sammy and CJ playing "hot air balloon"...
Nate is able to maintain circle sitting using his arms for about 30 seconds (the picture was taken last week - he now is able to extend his elbows to sit upright). It's hysterical to watch. He gets so excited he tips himself over. I can only imagine the additional chaos that will be bestown upon us when this kid becomes mobile.

And no. We still don't have a good picture Nate smiling. The light on the camera flash freaks him out, so this is the best we can do.

But, if shell shocked was the look we were going for, we would have a definite winner here:
We'll get a good picture, I'm sure.
Eventually.

Ooooooh. Carl Crawford is a member of the Sox? AND Adrian Gonzalez?
Did I mention there's only 12 more weeks until Spring Training?

Friday Night

I was struggling as to whether or not to put this up.
I still may take it down.
I'm not sure yet.

Like I’ve mentioned before, I love my job. I really can’t imagine doing anything else (though, I have decided that I want to be a backup singer for Neil Diamond when I grow up – but that’s a different story for a different day).

This being said, going back to work after this maternity leave has been challenging. On top of having another urchin around the house, I’m in a new building, owned by a company I’m not familiar with, with new staff, new rules and new clients. The most difficult aspect of this has been transitioning to a caseload with advanced dementia.

Before I was used to working with people with no impairments to moderate dementia. Nothing crazy, but occasionally just enough to know that things weren’t quite right. Now I am working with a population that has severe to end-stage dementia.

BIG DIFFERENCE.

There is no new learning. I have about 30-60 seconds of retention to work with. The rest of what we do needs to stem from previously learned, rote activities.

No easy task, I assure you.

I see people raw. With dementia you can’t cover things up. There aren’t niceties. There is no seven second delay. People say what they think and feel. It’s all out there.

Some days this can be exhausting. It makes me want to bang my head on the wall and sit in the corner sucking my binkie.

But some days it can be beautiful. So beautiful I can do nothing but cry.

I was standing the other day with a very lovely woman who has severe dementia. She knows her name. But other than that, she struggles to recall basic things. She needs assistance to perform most tasks.

We were looking at a long line of family photos. I knew she couldn’t remember who was in the pictures, so I commented on how the people were dressed or their smiles or the backdrops. Her speech is limited and our conversation consisted mostly of short, one to two word phrases.

Then, clear as day, when looking at a picture of her mother, she said to me, “I see spirits. They’re not here, but I know they’re okay. They know I’m okay. They love me. They help you take care of me.”

WOW.

As I stood there, arm in arm with this beautiful lady, all I could think of was her mother. I prayed that her mother knew she was okay. That she knew there were people here taking care of her baby girl until she could be with her again. And I prayed that if my children were ever in a similar situation that there would be someone to take care of them. Someone to let me know they were loved. Someone to hug them for me, until I could hug them again.

At the end of the day I went home and cried. And I hugged my babies.

And I thanked God.

For everything.