If I Ran the Zoo

Oh wait, I do run this zoo... right? At least I feel like a zookeeper most days.

After three weeks of sickness, all the fever and throw up and headaches had left and on Tuesday not one child stayed home sick. They all went back to school. Then Wednesday we had a snow day and they were all home again. It was a blessing that we finally had a day off where everyone felt well, but my house seemed more zoo like than ever.

One of the things I love about Joseph and Juliana going to preschool is that they get a chance to do the type of projects I used to do with the older girls, but just don't seem to get around to doing anymore. What I dislike about preschool is that there are deadlines to projects. They missed school all last week so Monday I get a note about this Friday's zoo day and animal sleepover. The preschoolers are supposed to bring a stuffed animal to sleep over at school (easy enough). Then comes a mom's nightmare. The animals are going to have to have a place to sleep, so each student needs to make a habitat for their animal. The instructions for these projects crack me up, it's obvious this sweet teacher has never had kids and therefore never had to put together one of these projects during a week full of craziness.

 "Nothing fancy," the directions read, "it should be something the preschoolers put together on their own." Seriously, who gives four year olds free reign to paint, scissors, glue? We won't discuss the box cutter incident here. And while I have some of the smartest and most creative preschoolers (I'm not biased either), they certainly needed some help understanding habitats. Should you have an exceptional child that is able to manipulate all the necessary craft items and artistic enough to come up with their own ideas for a habitat box, do they really think these children are going to clean up the mess? These projects always always always fall to Mom. In my case, it took three older sisters, Mom, and a snow day to get it done.

Still we got them finished. I thought they turned out well. I can also tell you that the other habitats I saw were most definitely *NOT* put together by preschoolers, smart and talented as they are. Now I have to get back to restoring the three closets I destroyed this morning looking for shirts with zoo animals on them.

Rub-a-Dub-Dub

I'll let you decide which one is the Butcher, Baker, and Candle Stick Maker...

The Kind of Day I'm Having

Every now and then we have one of those days around here. I admit they have been less frequent than a year or two ago, but things have been on a crescendo and I knew the day was coming. Dh has had to get up for the early Mass the last two days. The boys simply do not sleep through Dad getting ready in the morning, no matter how quiet he tries to be. So the last two days they have woken up more than an hour earlier than normal. Then naps were thrown off yesterday because they were both so tired. Mom, too, is still suffering from early pregnancy fatigue and is bone tired. I need a nap.

Then this morning hit. When dh called at 7:15 I had already had it up to my ears. Gabriel was overtired and would cry, or scream, or whine every time Joseph came within three feet of him. Joseph can of course sense this and hones in on the scent. My nerves were shot. Then shortly after breakfast they were caught with markers, hiding behind the rocker writing on the walls. OY!

The last straw was when I was summoned to the bathroom to find this:

Boys, seriously only my boys, would think to do this...

Clues

If you find yourself in one of those moments where things are just too quiet...

Chances are you're going to find a mess like this in your living room...

Then you might find yourself in another moment of panic when you can't find the baby -- anywhere!

Just remember to stay calm, remember the alarm hasn't beeped warning of an escapee, no one is crying, swear he was just at your side seconds ago, follow the clues...

And you'll find him

To Call or Not To Call

Dh often jokes about the phone calls he gets from me at work. You know the type, the ones where he is diligently working to support our family, the demands and pressures of work exacting all his energy and then I call... AARRGGHH both boys are in the bleach I will be cleaning it up all afternoon... AARRGGHH if I hear two girls bicker for one second longer I'm gonna blow...  AARRGGHH there's a toothbrush in the toilet what do I do... AARRRGGHH such and such appliance broke and I can't do what I need to do.

Today was one of those days. While occupied, I heard quite a thud. Since I didn't hear screams, I assumed all was well. Turns out, all was not well. Our large picture mirror had fallen off the wall and broken, thankfully no one was in the room. I spent lunch sweeping up pieces of it. I thought about calling dh to vent about things falling off the walls, messes that take hours to clean, and little ones who seem to be inexorably drawn to such things when I desperately need them to stay elsewhere. I thought about calling but remembered how frustrated he already was.

I had just gotten off the phone with him. He was frustrated at the news that the Consulate had rejected one of our adoption documents because a staple had fallen out as he was trying to photocopy the document. Yes, because of one little staple we now have to regenerate a document, take it to the bank to be notarized, then take it to the County Clerk for certification of the notary, then take it to the Secretary of State for certification of the County Clerk. After all this, he will have to hire the courier again to walk it into the consulate to get authentication. Needless to say this will take a significant amount of time and money-- all because of one staple.

I thought of all this and quietly cleaned the mirror, put lunch on the table, and went on with my day. Then this happened:

And I really wanted to call. 

Instead, I quickly went to work and bathed two boys, then washed the cans and bottles (did you see the syrup dripping down the bottles?

 Then I mopped the floor.

Dh came home to two freshly bathed boys already in their jammies, a clean kitchen, and a mopped floor. Needless to say, he owes me!

P.S. When dh was reading this post he graciously reminded me of these phone calls too:


AARRGGHH the printer won't work...
AARRGGHH a bird just died at our back door...

New Jammies

Grandma bought Gabriel some new jammies today. Despite the fact neither Juju nor Joseph have ever seen Sesame Street, they both fought over who would wear the new Elmo and Cookie Monster jammies. So even though these monkeys are two years older than Gabriel and the jammies were sized 18-months, they both insisted they should get to wear them!!

A Little Boy and His Patron Saint

While today is abuzz with Divine Mercy and the beatification of JPII, it is also the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. What a great day to be Catholic!

Joseph is already quite enamored with his patron saint. He regularly has chats with St. Joseph in our backyard. It was St. Joseph, protector of families, whom we invoked to watch over our Joseph before he joined our family.
He tried to do this at our church too, but the end result was, well, disastrous. Thankfully, this statue has held up so far to Joseph's affections. Each morning, dh prays the following beautiful prayer. I thought it appropriate as we head into Monday after a day of such wonderful feasting. We will be praying it as we diligently push forward to complete our school year.

O Glorious St. Joseph, model of all those who are devoted to labor, obtain for me the grace to work conscientiously, putting the call of duty above my natural inclinations, to work with gratitude and joy, in a spirit of penance for the remission of my sins, considering it an honor to employ and develop by means of labor the gifts received from God, to work with order, peace, moderation and patience, without ever shrinking from weariness and difficulties, to work above all with purity of intention and detachment from self, having always death before my eyes and the account that I must render of time lost, of talents wasted, of good omitted, of vain complacency in success, so fatal to the work of God.

All for Jesus, all through Mary, all after thine example, O Patriarch, St. Joseph. Such shall be my watch-word in life and in death.

-- St. Pius X

Turning Three

This has been a busy week for us. I think five dentist appointments and eight doctor visits in four days qualifies for a little more than busy. Throw in piano lessons, first soccer games of the season, a trip to an indoor waterpark and I think I could call this week's schedule downright hectic. It doesn't let up over the weekend either. Despite the busy-ness yesterday we celebrated Joseph's third birthday.

Joseph loves anything with wheels so when I found this kit on clearance at the grocery store after Christmas, I knew it would be a hit. It was as fun to decorate as last year's monkey cake. Little Joseph didn't know what to make of it though, I don't think he realized it was cake. In the end I had to just give him a slice of the traditional cake I had also made.


Joseph is a race car kid. He falls asleep running them on his pillow, he wakes up and gathers them and tries to carry more than his hands will hold. He lines them up, he crashes them, and recently he has learned how to send them driving across the room. The first time I pulled out the race car jammies he wouldn't take them off. I think he wore the shirt almost three days before I decided it absolutely had to go in the wash. The race car ramp seems to be a hit too. He was up before the crack of dawn this morning ready to shoot the cars down the ramp. I'm pretty certain he's figured out that at 4:30 A.M. he can pretty much have the toys to himself. I've figured out that no amount of coffee will make 4:30 A.M. any easier.

Happy Third B-day Joseph!

Everything's been different,

All the day long.
Lovely things have happened,
Nothing has gone wrong.
Nobody has scolded me,
Everyone has smiled.
Isn't it delicious

To be a birthday child?
--Rose Fyleman

It's becoming rather standard for us to celebrate birthdays late. Today is no exception. Five dentist appointments, piano lessons, opening Spring soccer games, not to mention a full day of school, leave today too busy. Cake and presents tomorrow... still I think Joseph has had a fun-filled, if not hectic, birthday.

Life in the Danger Zone

“Security is an illusion. Life is either a daring adventure or it is nothing at all.” --Helen Keller

Around here we live life on the edge.
*Now we know how all those fingerprints and smudges got all over the window... Dh had almost gone so far as to accuse me of making them as I watched out the window for him to come home :)

We also take risks.
*A rambunctious two-year old pushing his one-year-old brother in a rickety toy cart through a mine field of misplaced toys and wood furniture, not to mention six other people-- what could possibly go wrong?

Most dangerous of all, though, might be dh with a new mop!
* A mop that steams and came in a box that reads, "Goodbye Dirt, Hello Cleaner Home!"

Yes, we love danger! (and clean floors)

1, 2, 3, 4

This morning it occurred to me that right now, for just a few more weeks, I have:

a one year old,

a two year old,

a three year old,

and a four year old.

Both Bophie and Joseph have birthdays coming up so it won't last long, but it's pretty cool when you think about it.

One Year Ago

This sweet boy stepped out of the airport doors and made his way into my heart.

A year ago our house was filled with pink and frills,

There were doll houses and dolls,
Jewelry and hair clips requiring trips to the malls.

Now there are trucks, trains, and cars that go zoom,

And more trips to the Emergency Room.

This little boy has shown us the meaning of snips & snails & puppy dogs tails. He has introduced this house of girls to new levels of ick. He eats dog food, rocks, and glass! This year I have learned that boys are indeed different than girls. My organization skills have necessarily reached new levels. I have discovered I can survive on much less sleep, consumed more coffee, and embraced dark-circle under eye concealer.
Yet, the joy he has brought our family this year is immeasurable. He embraces life much the way he gives his hugs, two arms wrapped around your neck squeezing with all the strength he can muster. His joy at a new truck, a passing truck, a piece of cake, or a glass of milk, even at a green pepper sliced for him, is each day a reminder of the many blessings we have been given. His infectious smile lights a room, his antics make me laugh (although not always initially).
He is no longer that scared little boy I met a year ago. He has many new accomplishments. He helps get himself dressed, expressing a clear preference for anything that has wheels or animals that roar. After quite a bit of work, he knows all his major body parts. At first he paid no attention to singing or books. Now, he loves to bring any willing person a book to read to him. He also asks to sing "The itsy-bitsy spider" with all its accompanying motions. And while he is definitely Daddy's boy, I am the occasional recipient of his big hugs, his slobbery kisses, and he even says Mommy.
Thank God we have had this wonderful, crazy, never been so tired, year with this amazing little boy.

Time Out

Look at this sweet boy.

Those who know my house, may have guessed he might be sweet but he's not so innocent. They probably recognize that he has not found a cozy spot to nap, but rather was relegated to the "Time-Out" stairs. Some blog followers may recognize the stairs too. They are used quite frequently these days.

Today they were used when that sweet boy waited until I was occupied putting the baby down for a nap. Then that darling boy snuck into my pantry and found the pancake syrup and a paper plate. He then filled the paper plate with syrup, only it wouldn't hold all the syrup. So he let it spill out all over the coffee table, and then he watched as it ran off the coffee table onto the floor (dh, if you are reading this, take a deep breath, then be thankful it was in the piano room and only got onto the wood floor not the carpet, and I managed to clean the whole mess. Also, dh, we could use another bottle of syrup for the wonderful leftover pancakes the kids are looking forward to for breakfast tomorrow.). The syrup looked so good as it made delicate designs on my coffee table that my adorable little son decided to stick both his hands in the plate and try to lap it up. This left him, all his clothes, and the floor, further covered in the sticky mess.

It's a good thing that boy is so darn cute when he sleeps. Otherwise, I might not have been so understanding when less than ten minutes after the syrup incident was cleaned, I found myself cleaning up the brown sugar from his attempts to reorganize my lazy susan. No wonder he fell asleep in time out today, he has spent his fair share of time there.

Since I needed a little bright spot in the day, Gabe decided to flash his best "ham-it-up-the-camera-is-on-me" smile. The cuteness is almost unbearable.
Little Gabe, though, has me wishing for a time out. He is all-Mommy all the time right now. Whenever anyone threatens to take him from my arms he clings to me with two fist fulls of hair, especially the little hairs on the back of the neck. The few times I get him down, he clamors trying to climb up my leg. My only respite comes when he is somewhat placated by food. Then sometimes he just collapses.

They sure are cute when they sleep :)

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas

Joseph's first Christmas season with us brought giggles and smiles as he "mooned" St. Nicholas at our parish celebration. It brought warm, melt your heart feelings as I watched the young boy dressed in his finest, look with wonder at a church beautifully decorated for Christmas Eve Mass. To see him wonder at the singing of carols, the twirling of incense, the joy of those around him. There were feelings of gratitude and blessing to later watch him get the concept of presents. Opening each one to find the treasures. He has walked around this house for days with all of his trucks, trains, and cars. I was thankful we were given the opportunity to share in these festivities with him. What a different Christmas he must have had last year.

Today, though, he capped his first Christmas season by instilling fear, worry, and disbelief in a mom who had perhaps grown too accustomed to life with girls. I walked down the stairs to hear him crunching on something. Crunch, crunch, crunch. I look around to find little drops of blood and spit on the carpeted stairs, he munches away. I search to find the source of the snack he really seems to be enjoying.

Imagine my horror when I realize he is eating the bulbs off a strand of garland lights that decorates our banister. He was eating the glass lights!!! Chewing them into little ground shards!!! Five little lights he bit off, chewed up, and hopefully spit out. Quickly I scrambled to clean out any remaining pieces and he bit my finger, hard. There were tears of pain mixed with fear at what ramifications would come from eating glass. I searched the Internet and read the damage will mostly be to his mouth and throat, there was little evidence of any of that. I quickly fed him lots of bread (an Internet search yielded that suggestion), I called dh who did his own searching and calling.

The boy is currently happily napping, the garland has been removed, the stairs cleaned, and I am attempting to recover from the shock. Seriously, eating light bulbs off the strand. I just don't know where he comes up with these things.

** Update: After his nap, Joseph came to me with a piece of glass stuck in his foot. Those stairs I had just cleaned now had drops of blood to be cleaned once more. Then wouldn't you know it, I stepped on a piece myself and had to clean up another round. My poor white carpeted stairs will never survive these children.

Ooooo Gross!

After a decade of life with girls, Joseph has brought a whole new level of "gross" to this family. Leave it to the boy to eat the dog food, incessantly play in the toilet, pull off his diapers and leave it for the dog, and.... well, I am sure you've heard enough.

Today, one can only hope, was the heighth of grossness for us. After finishing a grammar lesson with Bear, I walked into the living room to see Bophie playing with Little People. Joseph is uncharacteristically quietly watching her. I look down to see dog poop. Yuck! I quickly try to move everyone out of the room. As I pick up Joseph, a piece of slobber covered poop comes falling out of his mouth. Y.U.C.K!!!

Now, I am in panic mode. How sick is he going to get from dog poop? Am I going to get sick cleaning up this poop? Really, kid, dog poop?!

In the process, I move Bophie's pretty little purse to find more dog poop falling out of the purse. There is even a white piece in there! White? How did the dog poop in the purse? Then it suddenly occurs to me, this isn't poop. Thank goodness, it was only rocks.

Note to self: no collecting small rocks that when wet may closely resemble dog poop. Let's stick to the white, colorful, larger rocks, especially when stuffing our purses with them :)

It also really says a lot when I am relieved the boy was eating rocks...

6 Month Post Adoption Report

(Yes, I am well aware Joseph has been home for almost 8 months now. I am late, again. The report was only a little late, the blog post about it is really late.)

It is amazing to me how quickly these months with Joseph have flown. The busy-ness (the birth of Gabe, my sister's healing heart, learning to run a house that has expanded quite quickly, etc.) of our early days with him make that time seem surreal. I'll never forget pulling the van up to the curb of the airport to greet an exhausted little boy not sure what to make of this next stop in his journey. An almost two-year old boy who had known too many homes, too many caregivers, and not enough love.
He responded very similarly to Juliana and in many ways shut down. Dh was remarking how serious his countenance was in almost all the early photos we have of Joseph. These first six months with him, he has come out of shell. He smiles often now, he laughs, he wants attention. It is amazing to think of how much he has changed in such a short time. Being with him each day, and watching this gradual transformation, it hardly seems like it has only been six (ok eight) months. Then, looking back at those early pictures, he hardly seems like the same little boy.
He has also gained so many skills to go along with his budding personality. He now helps get himself dressed. In the early days, dressing him was painful. He was limp and we would have to push his arms and legs into his clothes. Now, he looks forward to pushing his arms through, and the only trouble is getting him to be still. He especially likes trucks, cars, anything with wheels, and he loves to see these machines on his clothes. He even has a favorite pair of truck jammies and sleeps with a toy truck in hand.
He also has learned to run and jump. This is good when at the park, not so good at evening prayers. He has learned to use a fork, sometimes. He eats like a champ and has now taken to pointing to others' plates when he is finished with his own, hoping to be given their leftovers.
Perhaps my favorite early memory of Joseph will be how much he loves to go to Church. The minute the van pulls up and he recognizes where we are, he laughs and has a look of pure joy. He tugs and pulls on our hands to get in as quickly as possible. He smiles at everyone he passes and tries to shake hands with anyone he meets. He especially likes the holy water fonts and as we pass each one (typically we pass four on the way to our pew), he earnestly submerges his entire hand into the font, splashes a little, pulls out his hand, and does his version of the sign of the cross. Inevitably, he ends up quite doused in holy water. I would like to say his behavior during Mass is just as sweet, but we are talking about a two-year-old rambunctious little boy. We do our best, and it is getting better, but dh usually leaves Mass feeling like he had been in battle.
Yesterday someone commented on how much Joseph was growing. I told her he was getting taller and monkey-er, and that pretty much sums up his first six (eight) months with us. What a blessing to have this little monkey and the infectious joy he brings to every one he meets.

All I Want for Christmas

But wait, it's only July you say. Poor Joseph will be singing that song about his two front teeth for many Christmases to come, that is when he finally starts talking.

After lunch one day, his mouth started bleeding. Bleeding a lot. His teeth were also perpendicular to his gums. It wasn't pretty. I quickly started making phone calls and directing the girls to help load everyone in the van. Thank goodness I have such helpful older girls. I then took him to the dentist, both of us covered in blood and sweat. Dh met us there as I was pretty sure no waiting room was ready for me and all the kiddos. Besides, Joseph is Daddy's boy. Dh would be much better at comforting him.

The teeth had to come out. Both dh and I were caught a little off-guard when the dentist casually asked for the extractors and started pulling them out in mid-conversation. No warning, no anesthetic, just a quick couple pulls as dh was holding little Joseph who cried very little considering what was happening to his mouth. Dh did not fare as well as our Joseph. He turned gray, had to leave and put his head down, asked for a garbage can. I really thought he wasn't going to make it without passing out. This man who has watched all of my c-sections (at Gabe's birth he was asked to step back) and never seemed bothered, could not handle seeing Joseph's teeth pulled.

We had taken Joseph to a new dentist's office at our family dentist's suggestion. She was a pediatric dentist who could see us right away. The girls all liked her office and wanted to go there themselves until they heard Joseph had to have his teeth pulled. Then none of them wanted to go back-- ever. Banana said it was especially unfair for Joseph because he didn't even know about the tooth fairy!

We still aren't sure what caused his teeth to fall out. He hadn't fallen, he really never cried as though he was in pain. We were all taken aback by how his teeth looked since he didn't seem to be hurt. In fact, I couldn't get him to leave them alone until we got to the dentist. It is possible it is a result of the cleft, or the palate surgery. We will now watch his teeth a little more closely, especially as his adult teeth come in. Until then we can sing about the teeth

Wordless Wednesday

The "No Wonder I Can't Get Out the Door In the Morning" Edition

Blessed

I had a beautiful morning today with Joseph, just him and me. Dh has a long standing tradition of taking the older girls (and whoever else who happens to wake up) to the "much too early for this nursing mom" Mass on Fridays. I had a rough night with the baby and never heard any of them leaving.

Probably five minutes after they left little Joseph woke and started his call to have someone get him out of bed. Little Juju can lift her leg to the height of her ear in order to get one little toe to hook over the side of her bed. She then uses that one little toe to hoist herself over the bed, it's truly amazing (if not a little nerve wracking) to watch. Joseph, try as he might, can not get his leg that high, so he stands at the end of the bed and yells.

I had to drag myself out of bed as I am *not* a morning person and I was exceptionally tired from Gabe who must be preparing for a growth spurt. I shuffled sleepily to the next room. As soon as Joseph saw me, he gave me his characteristic ear to ear grin and held out his arms. Something about his smile works magic, it gave me more energy to start this morning that seemed to come much too quickly. It didn't matter that my eyelids felt like dead weight, or that my arthritic joints were stiff, I was happy to see that little smile. When I leaned over and he jumped in my arms and wrapped his own little arms around my neck in a bear hug that only Joseph can give, I knew today was going to be a great day even if I was exhausted.

The two of us wandered downstairs. I started my coffee and put him in his chair for a banana. As soon as I said "banana" he lit up. He clapped his hands and again started his yelling. I don't know what he was saying, but he sure seemed overly excited about that banana. We then made our way outside. Again Joseph was more than a little excited about the door opening and him being allowed to roam. He points to all the cars, and the trees, and the birds, and the clouds, each time he is so joyful about the world around him.

I can't help but think that for most of his short life, he hasn't had mornings like this. His excitement at the banana (and all food for that matter) might come from those mornings where there was little or no food for him. His excitement for being out doors may be the result of being in a confined space for so long.

So many people say he is blessed or lucky. He now has ample food, plenty of toys, a yard to explore, a family that loves him. I agree he is indeed blessed. This morning, though, I was once again reminded that I am more blessed. God has given me the great gift of playing a small part in this little boy's life. I am blessed to hand him the banana, blessed to open the door for him, most of all blessed to wake up to his bear hugs.

Joseph's Surgery--After

Joseph's surgery took a little longer than we expected, but the doctors consider it a success. Although it took some extra time, the doctors were able to close both openings in his palette and put in the ear tubes.

Joseph returned from surgery in quite a bit of pain. It was very difficult to see our typically easy-going little guy crying and moaning from the pain. The poor little fellow has had to deal with so much in his short life. Both dh and I wished there was more we could do to ease his pain and uncomfortableness. He had to endure this alone in China when his lip was repaired. I'm glad we could be there for this surgery.

He, Gabe, and I had a long night in the hospital. It seemed each time I rocked Joseph to sleep, someone came in to check vitals, give more medicine, or check his ears and mouth. Joseph would fuss at being poked and prodded, Gabe would then wake up, and I would do my best to get both boys back to sleep. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep.

Sometime in the morning, I noticed a change in little Joseph. As I was giving him some juice, he raised his eyebrows and smiled. I knew he was feeling a bit better. By mid-morning Joseph was walking the hospital corridors and waving to all he met. We were able to come home around noon and Joseph was greeted by his doting sisters. Juju was especially happy to see him and came running in from the backyard saying "Hi Joe-Joe!"

Here he is in his 'no-nos'. These are to prevent him from sticking anything (like fingers, toys, bugs, etc.) into his mouth. He'll be in these for 3 - 4 weeks as he heals from surgery.