lil' hen

what is it about my babies that makes me melt? henry is so delicious right now...his chubbalicious cheeks, his attempts at waving, his bright hazelish eyes, how easily he smiles, how he says "mamama" and reaches for me if i leave the room.  i especially love his little yells that sound a bit like happy screams.  one of my favorite things to watch is briar attempting to lug him around the house...it's a struggle for her to wrap her slender arms around his bulk and walk at the same time.  it's almost getting dangerous...i'm making a mental note to chat with her about that.  i am enthralled with his love for his siblings - his eyes light up, exuding all kinds of happiness and joy, every time one of them walks into his space.  henni reminds me how much i love the other 3, especially when they are plucking away at my last nerve and i would gladly drop them off somewhere far from me for a bit. 
going a completely different direction...
i was looking for a recipe involving pomegranate sauce and chicken, attempting to duplicate something i ate last week that was most delicious and i stumbled upon a blog with a yogurt blueberry cake i couldn't resist making.  the author was describing how she came up with the recipe and the ensuing consumption of said concoction with her buddy over coffee.  and i quote: "She's Irish, married to a Brazilian, they live in Minneapolis and she has the most charming English accent I have ever heard." AHAHAHAHA! i hope she was trying to be funny...

i'm a loser baby...

actually, i'm just kind of lazy.  or is it tired?  i have a brand-new sewing machine sitting in my basement that i haven't even opened yet to try out. a gift i pleaded and then threatened for.  i confess i'm kind of afraid of the whole bobbin thingy-every other time i've sewed, it was done for me because i was using someone else's machine.  i love sitting down and getting started - the preparation part, not so much. so the goal was to make some cute homemade gifts for a shower i attended last night.  i've had the fabric and ribbon for weeks, and the batting for a few days. good thing i had a back-up gift. i just need to get started and then it will be fun - i have some really gorgeous fabric for curtains, denim to be made into overalls for my boys, etc.  i feel a bit afraid of my own machine.  do i call someone and have them come over and guide me through the setting up process and risk feeling like a dork?

the real loser-like thing i've done? i watched a really awful movie...and no, i won't tell which one it was, i'm that ashamed.  the thought of my kids ever knowing i exposed my spirit to something so diabolical makes me shudder.  suffice to say it was so traumatizing i'm scarred by it every time some of the scenes replay in my mind.  what i am most mortified and disappointed about is that i didn't immediately switch it off - maybe an indication of the spiritual reaching i need to do.  see, i kind of knew before we started watching it how this would all play out.  i gave it a chance because i'd seen something the same actor had done before that was hilarious, if a little sketchy.  i wish my brain could vomit and be done with it.  alas, what we choose to take in stays with us - to teach us not to go there again. oh, i really thought i was past watching evil pretending to be hip. hooray for the sacrament on sunday.  i hope my children stay clean of trash passed of as cinema. 

 i'm listening to them play in the tub, pretending to be "mermans".  chuckles is the merman with orange hair, of course.  jacob's ocean locks are blue.  this morning, as char greeted henry (who was still sleeping) he called softly: "shhhh, taco-hanky". he loves to hear the story about how when he was a newborn and jacob couldn't pronounce chuckle - instead saying taco - every time he entered my bedroom and saw the bassinet he whispered "shhh, taco." it's one of the few memories i have of his early life, so i tell it often.  my heart hurt the other night for the memories i can't recall of his infanthood.  we were laying together on briar's bed, and i was recounting stories of briar as a baby.  charlie said "tell me story of when i was baby, mom." there was an awkward, lengthy pause as i racked my brain.  honestly, his first 9 months, dare i say year, are a blur.  i had to pull out a christmas memory of him almost getting whacked with a stick during the christmas eve pinata festivities - but he was 15 months old and not really a "baby".  i've never been much of a journal-keeper, but i've finally figured out that online babble-type is my niche for recording our family history.  would that i'd started 6 years ago.

favorite new game

my kids' favorite new game involves baby H and the high chair.  around here, i do short little bursts of speed-cleaning that involve frantically whipping through the dishes, running down to the laundry room, furiously sweeping, and otherwise wiping, folding, tossing, etc. at lightening speed. not that my house is ever really "clean", but this just keeps it a step above slovenly.  digressing: i totally agreee that myself, my husband and my children deserve a clean and healthy home that is beautiful and peaceful.  but that ain't usually how it works out unfortunately.  so, back to the eldest olivers' new found delight (read: crazy-making for mommy).  henry's new high chair has these amazingly quiet and quite steerable wheels.  my children love practical jokes.  combine the two and we have a nifty game called "where's henry?"  the first time it happened i almost started to panic...i was loading the dishwasher/talking on the phone/munching/sweeping while hen slapped his toys on the high chair tray.  jacob trots into the kitchen and asks (very convincingly, esp. since i was a little distracted) "where's henry?" and i look blankly around the kitchen.  bouncy seat? nope. but i swear he was in the kitchen.  (the high chair is a relatively new fixture still, so it didn't occur to me that it was missing).  so then i really start to wonder where he is...proppped on the couch about to fall off, still in the van in his car seat, and on and on.  "i don't know" i said, genuinely surprised and a little concerned. that lasted for maybe 2 seconds until briar started giggling and wheeled him back in.  that was the first time.  it's happened a few more times, and i fall for it - every. single. time.  i have this moment of where did i forget my baby, and then the knowing giggling begins.  little monkeys.

lofty ideals

before i was married i was a sanctimonious "i have better things to do with my time than watch television" kind of girl.  i filled my days in class, studying, reading, hiking, biking, working, chatting, dining out, etc.  i watched "films", generally those of the foreign slant, and prided myself on my upscale taste in literature and non-existent knowledge of current pop culture as portrayed on the tube.  then i got married and with our lovely little shoebox of an apartment came free satellite.  still, i was busy and rarely home...we went to yosemite, yellowstone, bryce & zion - any downtime was spent cruising looking for spots to explore and hike.  i had a bun in the oven faster than you can chide "but weren't you using birth control" and suddenly i was calling in to work, missing classes and spending a lot of time lazing on our awesome dingy apple green couch with black wooden finials - it looked a little like crushed velvet and was a lowrider.  it was seriuosly sweet vintage...
anyhoo, on went the tv: suddenly i was exposed to law & order several times a day. i discovered "charmed", pausing to take it in b/c their theme song was a cover of one of my all-time favorite smiths' songs.  i watched witches battling demons, chefs fine-chopping shallots, detectives examing remains in Central Park, and i loved every second of it. i watched and i gazed and i stared, until my eyes were bleary and my head felt fuzzy. 
then my daughter was born, and once again my time was spent elsewhere. again, i became self-righteous and waxed philosophical on the evils of television, especially as far as children are concerned (you can bet i was watching whatever i could get at night, though, even though we only had 3 channels at the time).  i was horrified at the prospect of sitting my child in front of a television to watch mindless drivel that was also exposing her to electromagnetic energy.  we resisted and didn't even miss it, even after my first son was born.  then, quicker than you can ask "how old  was your baby?" we were once again with child. kids' cbc became my salvation; i think i may have actually muttered prayers of gratitude for cartoons created for the pre-school set. "poko" was my blue-haired buddy, too.
what's my point?  tv can certainly be a time-drainer and it's tough to find something of intrinsic value.  but it also kept my children safe, literally, when i was pregnant and sick.  they were enthralled and would not leave my side as i slept lightly on our bed as long as the tv was on. there have been days in their lives when i could not drag myself out of bed, and they were babysat by the backyardigans.
sometimes i wonder how i've gone from a "kill your television" bumper-sticker brandishing kind of girl to one who gleefully plans sunday evening around "the amazing race" and "desperate housewives".  lately we've been feeling the need to break out the uno cards, or something.  but for parents of young children tv can be a lifesaver, a  fun diversion and a stress reliever.  and i, for one, wonder what in the world is good to watch on a wednesday night when my little one is sick and only wants to nurse.

a few

of my favorite things today:

1. the back of a baby head/neck, especially henry's.

2. the fact that i was dressed, groomed and feeling pretty when the fortis man (electric co.) arrived to change out our box.  and no, i didn't even know he was coming! i was even wearing jewellry :).  there is something to be said for early-morning meetings at the school, even i if i arose before i like to. 

3. a fesh bag of frozen berries that cured me of my headache...so fresh i could still pick out the raspberries.  after the fist use, we usually have none left, even with a costco-sized bag.  try as i might to convince my children that it does'nt matter what berry plops out into the bowl, we all know it does.

4.  a husband who knows how to properly wield an ice-scraper, and thus save us from being late to aforementioned morning rendezvous. 

5.  my electric fireplace ryan gifted me for christmas: it makes us feel cozy and close, especially when poring over the scholastic order together. 

6.  ebay - i have found some items recently that i've been searching for for a LONG, loooong time. i have a long-standing love-hate relationship with ebay.  currently: adoring it - yipeee!  now, how to raise the funds sufficient for these lovely baubles and convince ryan of their absolute necessity.

7. reitmans' clothing store - i fought shopping there for many years (okay, only 7, when i started getting christmas gifts from my mil after we got married) because it just seemed so, ummmm, old...i've made sporadic purchases here and there, but today i am thankful for the stretchy-waisted (not elastic, mind you, but something that works akin to that dreadful stuff without sacrificing style) dark-wash "jeans" i'm wearing because they make me feel like my bulges are once again curves...and my stems don't look like tree-trunks. 

guess how much

"Mom, I just don't know how much I love you, I love you so much..."this coming from the lips of my precocious, darling, four-year old son moments after he patiently, gently counselled me with: "Mom, next time you see me come into your room in the middle of the night,  tell yourself this -It means I need a drink of water and milk, water first, and cold - in your head so you don't forget." Snakey expresses such adult-like wisdom at times that I feel like the child at his feet. He knows me well enough to recognize both my forgetfulness and dislike of criticism, so he gets what he wants while remembering to be kind. Yet moments later he allows me to carry him like a much younger child, his legs encircling my waist, head tucked under my chin as I accompany him to his room.  "But remember...did you tell yourself in your head so you don't forget?" He just popped back into my room to dispense with some friendly advice.  We also have a special smile - it means: Love you forever and ever, Mommy and Daddy. This is the same child who relentlessly goads his younger brother into a fist-fighting frenzy almost hourly, expertly wielded a steak-knife upon my newly re-upholstered dining room chairs, (covered with very expensive oilcloth i ordered all the way from portland, or), leaving them with nearly 30 uniform slits between 2 chairs, ignores "no" repeatedly while looking ryan and me in the eyes with a knowing smile, and frequently manages to cut his own hair with childrens' scissors.  Ahhh, my heart overfloweth...

wii?...oui!

what is it about exercise that makes me feel so darn fabulous?  i know that after only a few weeks of working out every other day i can't possibly be looking any better - and i know i haven't lost a pound (or even 1/2 of one - the melodious, kindly voice of the wii lets me know every time i step onto the balance board how svelte i am not).  BUT, i feel like i look bettter because all of those lovely endorphins are running around my body, energizing me and helping me sleep better at night.  though i do agree with my jaded and ever-so hip elder brother that nintendo is definitely cashing in on the whole "fit" concept - like calling something "all natural" and expecting people not to read the ingredients and figure "i'm good", it's working for me.  i've heard some diss it, with comments like: just get off of your butt and go run.  but, really, i don't have time alone from my children to do those sorts of things unless i want to do it in the dark, and the freezing cold.  i don't own a treadmill or a membership to a gym.  i'm also not in shape like i used to be - so any movement (aside from hoisting my 25-lb 5 month old around) is a calorie-burning wonder.  and folks, take it from someone who has been doing yoga off and on for almost 15 years - if you do it right, it works.  just yoga.  admittedly, it's kind of pathetic that i have to have a computer connected to a miraculous little balance board (how DOES that thing do what it does, really?) to actually do the yoga instead of just on my own.  but the sight of my plump little mii and the snarky little comments does just the trick for me.  i feel accountable.