Gone Dark...

DH here. Sorry for going dark. We've had a few very busy days and we're all adjusting to the time change. That means we're sleeping in until 6 AM most days now. :) Our latest adventure is climbing the Great Wall. Bear made it all the way to the top! Luckily, DH and Grandpa survived the climb.

This morning we fly to Zhengzhou. The flight arrives at 12:00 PM. It's an hour ride to the hotel and then we go to the bank to change money. Tomorrow is Gotcha Day!

Everyone is up now and we need to start packing. More to come in the next few days. Pray for us that everyone continues to hold up and Bear shares some of her boundless energy with Grandpa and I.

It's 3 AM...

A very tired DH here. After going to bed at 10 PM, I find myself up at 3 AM unable to sleep. I've prayed Morning Prayer over at iBreviary, chatted with Nikki over Skype twice, and have tried to go back to sleep, but it's just not happening. I've finally decided to get in the shower. It's 6 AM and Grandpa and Bear are still snoring peacefully. I'm going to be toast today...

When They Are Sixteen

I doubt we will find them each their own car-- for free.

However, at age three, we certainly did. We found these lovely little coupes for them at different times on the same street. They were just sitting by the curb and waiting for a new owner. They were also in need of a good car wash, which dh took care of with this:

His third Father's Day gift, which we really needed because of the stain the mulch left on the driveway. The electric air pump and the remote control motorcycle were also really needed :)

This third gift will clean my windows (hint hint dh) so I guess it was needed. It also did wonders for those poor abandoned cars, and now my little ones have wheels of their own.

Ones they love, and when they do turn sixteen, I'm pretty sure I won't want them to have cars of their own anyway...

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...

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)

This and That

Yesterday, as dh was mopping the floor, the baby was crying, and the two year olds were creating quite a rabble, Bophie was playing with her new doll. This doll talks to her, it cries, tells her she wants to be fed, coos for a kiss, and even lets you know she needs a potty-- all in four different languages. In the chaos, Bophie turns to me and says, "I really wish this doll would just speak up!" Bophie has some extra fluid in her ears, which didn't help the cause. She will be having tubes put in her ears in a few weeks, I am hoping this will help the doll "speak up."
Speaking of dolls, Juju also got a new doll for Christmas. She and Bophie found a stash of old diapers and asked if they could put them on their dolls. I relented just to see the smiles it brought them. There is something about a little girl and her doll. The diaper was a little to big for Juju's doll and after 3 or 4 minutes it began to fall off. Juju picked up the doll and said, "O pap." Right then I was thankful that this little girl often needs a Mommy translator, because at least when out in public, most people would not know that my sweet, two-year-old, adorable little girl just said "Oh crap!" in a tone that strangely mimics that of her mother.
The older girls are on the hunt for a missing library book. A library book that happens to be on dh's library card. Last night, we knew we had allowed bed time to stretch too late when they became a little too upset about the missing book. An emotional Banana asked if I had ever lost a library book. Me, lose a library book? The most egregious story in this category is the library book I lost my senior year of college. The one I swore I returned and refused to pay the fine. The one that held up the reception of my degree. I fought up and down, certain that book was in a pile of returned books. Years later, during a move, I was reminded of my profound need for humility when I found that book. I consider sharing this story as an act of humility made in reparation for the pridefulness displayed then.

Finally, all these tidbits display little ways my dh has shown how much he loves me. He was done with dolls for Christmas. It was the only thing he did not want to buy this year and yet three of my girls received dolls. He was mopping the floor. He only teases me a little about the kids picking up my poor mannerisms and sayings (of course thankful they weren't picking up his). He also was incredibly patient with me as he was thrust in the middle of my library book debacle. More than all these things, though, his love for me was abundantly clear when I came down this morning to find a pot of coffee, piping hot, waiting for me in the carafe. He doesn't even drink coffee and yet, for the third time this week, it was ready and waiting for me when I came downstairs. It honestly doesn't get any better than that!

O Captain, My Captain

This, I am blessed to say, is my wonderful dh. Today the "old" man is entering his late 30's. For his birthday I mopped the floor, allowed him to get nap, and the girls bought him new dishcloths (mostly because his flat panel tvs came two weeks ago). For his birthday dinner he wants take-out pizza and a cold beer, no cake-just rice pudding. All that, and the picture, say a lot about this man don't they?

Happy Birthday Dh! I am so glad to share another year with you!

Memorizing The Ten Commandments

A few years ago, when Banana was a third grader, dh began teaching third grade CCD at our parish. I wasn't sure how this would go, but I constantly have parents telling me what a great teacher he is. This happens so much I wonder if he shouldn't be schooling our children, but alas, he won't quit his day job. I guess that's a good thing.

The first year he taught, his assistant introduced a method for memorizing the ten commandments which he has modified and continued to teach. A friend was asking about this method, so I thought I'd share it here.

1. Hold up one finger- God should be first-- No other gods before him.
2. Hold up two fingers- This forms a V for vain-- Don't use the Lord's name in vain.
3. Hold up three fingers- This forms a W for worship-- Sundays are for worship and rest.
4. Use four fingers to salute- Honor your Father and Mother.
5. Use five fingers to make a fist- Don't kill.
6. Use three fingers on each hand to form a heart- Don't commit adultery.
7. Hold up two fingers on one hand, use all five fingers on the other to grab the two fingers- Don't steal.
8. Use four fingers on each hand to form binoculars over your eyes- Don't bear false witness. This also forms the number 8 when you take them off your eyes and turn them sideways.
9. Hold up the ring finger (other nine are down)- Don't covet neighbor's wife.
10. Use all ten fingers to cover your eyes- Don't covet neighbor's goods.

I hope he doesn't mind me sharing his trade secrets. He claims this works so well that he can ask any of his kids to tell him any commandment and they answer correctly and promptly. Now, if only he could find a method for teaching fractions :)

Settling the Score

There was a time I thought I would never have the privilege of having two little ones in diapers. I certainly never expected that God's plan would be for us to have THREE in diapers. Some days I feel as though every time I begin a task, I am interrupted to change another dirty diaper.

When Banana was born, dh was so afraid he might hurt her, he didn't change a diaper until she was almost 8 months old. Boy has he come a long way. Now it often takes both of us (and a small fortune) to keep these little ones in clean diapers.

You'll also remember dh's favorite bible verse, 1 Corinthians 15 :51: "We shall not all fall asleep, but we will all be changed." Never in our lifetime has that verse been more real to us than now. There are many, many, many sleepless nights and more changes than we dreamed possible.

In an effort to add some fun to these dreadful and numerous diaper changes, and because I am, by nature, fairly competitive, dh and I now have a diaper scoring scale.

1 point for each diaper
2 points for a number two diaper
+1 point if the change must be done out of the house
+1 point if it is a blowout
+1 point if there is any during changing showers.

So a poopy diaper at the store that blows out is four points, but a routine morning change is only one point. We keep a daily tally of our points.

So far today, I have 7. Dh has 0. My record is a whopping 19!!!

What's the prize? Right now, just bragging rights and the bigger dessert portion on dessert nights, but the system is fairly new so we are open to suggestions...

Thirteen Years Ago

Now subtitled "You're So Vain, You Probably Think This Post is About You"

Last week I began this post. I just wanted a fairly short, hopefully witty, somewhat sweet, post to wish my wonderful dh a happy anniversary. A post that let him, and the world, know how thankful I am for him and our marriage.

The problem is nothing witty made its way across my keyboard. Each attempt at wit seemed either overly sarcastic or fell short of humor. Other attempts at sweetness seemed more like a sugar-coated marshmallow approach. In the end I scrapped the post, or rather I left it to wither in the draft column of unfinished blog posts. Then I began new posts, posts about summer activities, the finished kitchen remodel, our coming vacation, and school starting.

Dh, however, feels thirteen long years of marriage to me deserves, at the very least, a small blog post commemorating these years together. So here it is, several days late, still not witty, and probably so sickeningly sweet it will cause our children's teeth to develop cavities...

Thirteen years ago, I began the adventure of a lifetime with my wonderful dh. Who knew thirteen years later I would love him more than I did that day? Thank you for your constant, faithful love of God, His Church, our beautiful children-- and me.

Happy Anniversary, I love you very much.

Smokin' and Rockin'

Happy Father's Day (again) Dh!

If you missed the smokin' (part 1 of my Father's Day posts) click here.

My Dh is Smokin'

Smoking brisket that is...

I am blessed to have a dh who not only is smokin', he's the best husband and father!

Happy Father's Day Dh!

A LittleWarning

To my wonderful, very helpful dh,

I work very hard to keep our home fairly orderly at most times. I try to keep our little ones on a regular schedule of getting up and dressed, and then getting myself dressed for the day. On occasion, however, there are mornings (especially after the long, busy weekends we have had lately), where I feel there is some sort of conspiracy against me. Little ones provide me with too many dirty diapers and messes to keep up with the chaos around me. Some mornings I just can't seem to get everyone moving towards my goal of being dressed and ready to move onto the day's activities.

I try to tidy up, but with each little toy I pick up, the other toys seem to multiply as I walk room to room. I also try to wrangle little arms and feet into proper clothing. But some mornings, as soon as the arms get into the clothing the feet wiggle out of them. I furthermore attempt to keep up with my own daily hygiene, but there are some mornings where that seems to get lost in the shuffle.

As a result, there just might be a morning where our house looks like a toy store exploded. A morning where the weekend's unfolded laundry has overtaken our living room. A morning where half our children are dressed, some might still be toddling around in diapers (remember there is one of me and three in diapers). Other children might be dressed, but outfitted in crazy get-ups not seen outside of the circus or mid-1980's. I also might be semi-dressed, wearing old lady curlers in my hair, trying to herd the mess and our children, even if it is almost noon.

Since mornings like this are bound to happen (mind you, only occasionally), it would be very, very helpful to be warned that a repairman might knock on my door. I might mistake said repairman for a package delivery man and allow our oldest daughter to open the door to accept the package. It may be difficult for me from my hidden vantage point in the kitchen (crouching in a corner) to grasp that the man at the door is a repairman. I might now mistake him for a salesman, then yell from the kitchen and have our daughter tell him he'll have to come back at a better time.

This little warning does not guarantee that the house will be any more tidy, or that little ones will be clean-faced and dressed. It also does not insure that I will be able to talk our four-year old daughter out of wearing mismatched crazy clothing. The laundry might still remain unfolded, but at least hidden. I am quite certain despite whatever measures I take, any person who ventures to ring our doorbell will be greeted by six anxious little people. Hopefully, though, I will have removed the curlers from my hair and put on decent clothing, and for that we can all be thankful!

All my love,
Nikki

Daddy's Home

While trying, unsuccessfully, to get a video of Gabriel's first little smiles, I captured a moment that occurs daily, often repeatedly, in our house.



In case you missed it, the heat turns on. The dog barks because she thinks it is the garage door and she will be fed. Bear hears the dog bark and says "Daddy's home." Banana hears Bear and quite loudly repeats, "DAD'S HOME!" Well, then you hear the rest...

What you didn't hear was Bophie's little feet running back through the kitchen and her announcement that dad was, indeed, not home. You also didn't get the chance to hear this scene repeat itself four more times until Dad actually was home.

Prophetic?

A few months ago I thought the day I had been anticipating had come. I, however, was thwarted by dh who had been praying the day would be long delayed. We found that we were rather divided in our prayers about our major household appliances. I was thankful at the time that dh was able to fix our ancient, ailing machine; but I also ended my post with a wish that his fix would only last until March. Turns out that was prophetic, or maybe just a self-fulfilling prophecy (could it have been I was trying to wash too many winter comforters?).

This week the machine went kaput-- for good. Today, these new beauties arrived and were installed. They are now getting quite a workout as I attempt to catch up on laundry.

**P.S. Don't I have the cutest washing machine model?

Sacred Scripture and Poopy Diapers?

This morning, after my sixth diaper change in two hours, I was reminded of one of dh's favorite bible verses.

One day when Bophie was probably a year old or so, dh was rather insistent I change her diaper. He is usually pretty helpful with diapers, so I was a little put off that he was hounding me to get to it. Finally, I finished up whatever it was I had been doing and took Bophie upstairs to tend to her stinky diaper. As I laid her down on the changing table, I found this bible verse strategically placed above it:

"Behold, I tell you a mystery. We shall not all fall asleep, but we will all be changed" 1 Corinthians 15:51.

The Day has Finally Come

After a few months of whining, moaning, and loud high-pitched squealing, the day is finally here. The anticipation of this day has caused dh quite a bit of anxiety. I, on the other hand, have been anxiously awaiting it for at least five or six years as visions of upgrades and fancy new devices filled my daydreams. I was hoping it would wait till after we had out tax return...

Just last week, after the whining and squealing had reached a new level, dh said that he had been praying our 13-14 year old washing machine would hold out until we recovered from the many adoption expenses that just seem to keep piling up. I told him that was funny because with the thought of the laundry piles that await me with six little ones, I had been praying we would be forced to get a new, much bigger, machine. Today we discovered who was praying harder :)

This morning I had everyone bring down their absolutely overflowing laundry bins. After last night's "I don't have any clean pajamas" debacle, I thought it was time to get to the amassing piles. I put in my first load as I was preparing breakfast. As we sit to eat a strange sound came from the laundry room (or closet- as it should be known). Dh gives me a look of dread and asks, "Is that new?" To which I had to say yes.

The drum isn't spinning and poor dh, who already wasn't feeling well, is stuck in the closet trying to see if he can fix the thing. I still have hopes for high capacity, high efficiency, and easy to load machines, but with Christmas a few weeks away and an adoption and new baby a few weeks after that, this is not the best timing. Here's hoping dh can fix it, but that the fix only lasts till March :)

Care to make a wager?

I am not a betting person. Yes, I have played slots-- for a quarter. I am too frugal (read: too cheap) to really bet on anything. The slots thing was more because we were in Vegas with friends and I was out to have a good time. But, I digress...

Tomorrow is a big day in our household. We are all going to crowd into my poor OB's tiny ultrasound room to see our newest addition. There is a perennial argument between dh and I this time each pregnancy. I like to be surprised, he wants to know. With Bophie's pregnancy I compromised and told my absolutely wonderful OB that he could only tell us if it was blatantly obvious. I didn't want him to go looking. I swear to you that man did not have the machine resting on my belly two seconds before he said, "Another girl!"

This pregnancy, dh has employed more dubious tactics for winning our "should we find out" battle. He pitted our children against me. He talked to all of the girls and convinced them we should find out. Now I am overwhelmingly outnumbered. In the past I have found no support amongst extended family (they all want to know as well) and now my own children have abandoned me.

He also has placed his wager, he has been calling this baby **** (a very feminine name) for weeks. I am not so sure, although I have to admit all statistics predict this child is a girl. The girls and I had a good conversation about this over dinner one night and we are all thankful God makes the decision as we were unable to determine which sex we would prefer. A brother for Joseph would be nice, but we have lots of girl stuff and sisters are wonderful. Some children liked the idea of a new brother and a new sister at the same time.

All bets are off after lunch time tomorrow, assuming the ultrasound is accurate. Until then, let me know what you think...

A Dozen Years...

Soon to be half a dozen kids here with us, and already half a dozen praying for us in heaven.

Who could have imagined the journey we were beginning twelve years ago today?

I knew then there was only one person I wanted to embark on this journey with. Today I am even more confident of that.

I love you David.

New Skills

The List:
3 spoons,
2 sippy cups,
a stuffed animal,
a pretty pink shirt,
the remote,
and 4 dish towels.

What do they have in common? These are the items I have found in the trash can. The follow-up question is, what did I not find that made its way out of the house? My keys, you know the one with the expensive fob that opens all the doors to the minivan, are still missing. For over a week now I have had to resort to the valet key. It is no fun!

The Offender: a cute 16 month old girl who recently aquired the ability to walk.

The Accomplice: her father who encouraged her to pick up the things she found on the floor and put them in the trash can. He thought he was teaching her to help her poor overworked mother :) A decision that has backfired.

The Proposed Solution: Do you think I can convince dh, who is already seeing dollar signs in his sleep over our second adoption in a year, to fork over the small fortune for one of these?

He did after all start this...