Well things around here are markedly improved in the past week or so. Erin has started to get through the mornings with much greater ease, and that makes life easier for the rest of us. The walking to and from school has been helpful, for both her separation and my weight-loss efforts. Then on Monday, on our way home, I thought her belt was buckled, and I inadvertently hit a bump in the sidewalk and launched her about four feet out of the stroller. Her knee bust open and she wailed for 15 minutes, until I magically found a Band-Aid in my Mary-Poppins'-carpet-bag-sized diaper bag, and put it on her knee. And just like that, the crying stopped.

Meghan is totally done with her binky. I still can't believe how painless it was. I fully expected her to be a mess for ages...but she doesn't even ask for it anymore. She's doing well in school, and was so excited for today when she would bring snack for the whole class and bring a "show and share" object that starts with the letter "C." Well, naturally, of all days, Erin doesn't have school today and is thoroughly tickled that she gets to watch Meghan go while she stays with me. So now Meghan is in total meltdown because Erin tortured her at bedtime last night by telling her that she and I are going to do "special things" together without her. I honestly want to rail her sometimes. Like it's not enough to have the afternoon together, but we also must rub it into younger sister's face and make her feel left-out. Meghan is having a fit, ranting that she can't go to school because there's absolutely nothing in the house that begins with the letter "C" and is fit for "show and share."

I think Lizzy is getting better. Benadryl is a God-send. She's cutting her two top teeth, so that's a boatload of good times. But she needs them, so we have to weather through. She is crawling all over the place now, pulling up and starting to cruise, and even starting to have a little bit of stranger anxiety. Right on time. I guess the notion of her being recovered and a "normal baby" finally sunk in on me in the past week. It is a beautiful thing.

I'm not afraid anymore. I mean, I'll always be ridiculously anxious and will watch out for her well-being at all times, like I try to do with all of my daughters. But as far as being on constant watch for the next "bad thing" to happen to her as a result of her bowel condition, it has stopped. I'm feeling a lot more relaxed and finding myself enjoying the small moments of motherhood and their childhood. It's a happy place to stand in for awhile.

Sadly, we lost Pete's uncle last week and attended his funeral yesterday. It was very sad, but there was also a lot of celebration for a life well-lived. He had a tremendous influence on his whole family and lived a very interesting life. I'm so glad that I was able to get to know him over the past 14 years...he will be missed sorely. The worst part to me is seeing my father-in-law sad. He is one of the greatest people to walk this earth, and to see him in pain over the loss of his brother saddens me so much.

So we are off to conquer the last half of the week. And Erin just emerged from her bedroom after enduring a firm talking-to by me about her words to her sister last night. She came down the stairs carrying a gigantic stuffed Candy Corn and helped Meghan pack it in her backpack for her show and share.

See? Marked improvement.

Goings on and musings

Today Erin got a lesson about private parts from a classmate who will undoubtedly be in adult films someday.

Lizzy's nose is like a faucet. I think the FDA sucks with this whole ban on decongestants for children under 2. But I can give her Benadryl. Double whammy...let's pray it knocks her out and doesn't make her wired out of her tree.

Sarah Palin continues to make me chuckle each time she opens her mouth. Can't wait for the Biden/Palin debate. DVR worthy.

My Italian grandmother would be proud of me if she was eating with us tonight...I've made a mean tomato "gravy" (which I still feel uncomfortable calling it, it should be sauce...but I digress) and homemade meatballs. Even managed NOT to burn the garlic. Sweet.

That's all for today.

Baby weight sucks

Why does the female metabolism change so violently as we age, and why must it happen at the exact same time that we have a baby or many babies? Honest to God, the weight seemed to fall off of me after Erin. And after Meghan we went to St. Lucia, so I had the most excellent motivation to get back in shape: BIKINI IN JANUARY!! And as my friends, mother and poor husband know, I get so crazy about this issue, it has taken over my life (and the lives of those mentioned) at times. I am so over it. Liz is nine months old and it looks like I'm not having anymore babies. That should be all the motivation I need, right? My body is now my own again and I don't have to share it like a vessel anymore. I have bins of skinny clothes waiting for a slimmer me. I love to run, absolutely love it. I love to exercise. I even found a studio that offers hip-hop classes. What more do I need? Why can't I get it together and get back into my old jeans...without a bulge hanging over the top of them? Lots of possible reasons, or excuses, depending on your vantage point: Slow metabolism, lack of motivation, too many tempting "kid" snacks in the house...being in my kitchen ALL THE TIME with total access to aforementioned snacks. Oh, yeah, and don't forget the total lack of activity, despite all of the options available to me which I listed above. And that "total lack of activity" concept is ironic because I seriously never sit down, not even now while typing, but apparently bending over four thousand times a day to pick up toys and kids doesn't actually raise your heart rate or shrink your waist line.

Well, I think I may have gotten smart the other day. It suddenly occurred to me that Erin's school is walking distance to my house. So, why not throw the kids in the stroller, strap the baby to me in the Bjorn and power walk to and from school? It's a start. I figure that's a combined weight resistance of about 87 pounds, and part of the walk there is uphill. We've picked Erin up from school the past two days after a great walk and even managed to take her to school today by walking. It also really helped her separate from me. We had extra time this morning to chat and sing and enjoy the fresh air before she started her day. She walked over to line with her principal, turned around and waved, and started her school day with a smile.

What if walking is the solution to not only getting Erin to and from school happily, but it gets this baby weight off, too? I'm a little nervous, though, to get on the scale and have my theory debunked. I guess we'll see...

Serenity now

Ah the joys of an hour alone. Liz, asleep in her car seat, Meg, at school, Erin, also at school, and me, with a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch standing in the kitchen about to post to my blog for the second time this week. It's nothing short of a miracle. I could take a shower (novel idea), I could finally do the exercise DVD I ordered that has been sitting in my kitchen hutch for a week because I haven't had 20 minutes to do it, I could clean...but no, I think I'll write instead.




Lately I've been thinking about the passage of time and how quickly the weeks are flying by now that the kids are in school and our weeks have a routine and structure. While observing this, and attempting to make the most of each moment, I took a good long look at Elizabeth this morning. She got four shots yesterday and was diagnosed with an ear infection. She had a fever last night, and has a perpetually drippy nose. Overall, she should be miserable. But she's not. She's a happy, content baby...who is getting so big it hurts to hold her for longer than 5 minutes. And I will not attribute this to my muscle atrophy and pathetic lack of upper body strength. It occurred to me as she snuggled against me this morning that I fought long and hard to have another baby, as Pete will attest. My God, the begging and pleading I did on behalf of my biological clock. And then she wound up arriving completely unplanned and had such a fight on her hands from the moment she took her first breath. Yesterday, the doctor told us to please stop thinking of her as "a special baby" and instead look at her as "a normal baby." So with all of these thoughts and events, I felt the need to stop and be thankful that I HAVE a baby. A little girl who thinks that the sun rises and sets around the people within the walls of this house, and doesn't care about the world that turns outside. She plays and giggles and loves and explores...and so I am spending the day savoring her baby-ness. Because as we all know, it is so fleeting. Before I know it she'll be off and running from me, instead of turning and crawling toward me.

From these thoughts about Elizabeth, I am propelled to think and ponder the ways of my other daughters. There is Meghan...who has been known from the start as a lover. She is physical and fearless and one of the most loving children I've ever known. Without bias, I can say this. She creates and plays and imagines and embraces each of her days with a zest for life that only a child possesses. And she is four and a half, and runs through the doors of her preschool classroom yelling "BYE!!" behind her, without even so much as a pause to smooch me. And this too will be her fleeting phase before she moves into the next realm of her development.


And my Erin. Erin who hates to be told what to do and where to go. She is so very smart and so very bright, and while her heart is big, she never lets it get in the way of what she wants at a given moment. She will no doubt be successful in whatever goals she sets for herself. And that is why she is resisting school and separating from me...it's simply not in her plan. It wasn't her idea. I respect her feelings and love her deeply...and accept that home is where we come to act badly when the rest of the world is intolerant of our tantrums. So I will hug her and love her, and be firm in letting her know that while she may feel like a square peg being shoved into the round hole of public school education, she fits perfectly into our family. And this phase of not wanting to let go will soon be replaced by something else...and I'll probably miss the days when she never wanted to be away from me.



I have only been a mother for 6 years. And that's only to one of them. As a family we have yet to deal with cliques, boyfriends (or girlfriends), first loves and broken hearts, body image issues, extracurricular hobbies, sports, talents, sleepaway camp and sleepovers, college applications, acceptances and rejections. The list of that with which we've dealt is brief in comparison to that about which we have yet to even consider. I guess that is why it is so important to take only one day at a time, and possibly consider having the Serenity Prayer tattooed onto some part of my body...

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Perhaps God granted me some wisdom in the past few days to realize that I cannot change how Erin behaves when she goes to school. But I can change how I react and how I allow it to effect me for the rest of the day. Perhaps I'm just in a better hormonal frame of mind this week. Or perhaps motherhood is turning out to simply be the best education I've ever received in my life.

I am officially the worst "blogger" in history. I think about writing everyday, but have had to compete for computer time with my children who want desperately to play on the computer every time my backside hits the chair in front of my desk. But I'm hoping that that changes today. I have a new toy in my life, my new laptop and I love it so. I can stand in my kitchen and put it on the counter top and write while i do laundry, wash dishes, cook meals and clean them up and so far, no one wants to use it but me! The kids are totally disinterested, which is unfathomable to me. But alas, I will go with it and enjoy the fact that no one wants me to share it with them...yet.

Life at the moment is up and down, as it always is with my group. Meghan has gone without her binky for two full nights. This is just about the most amazing thing any of my kids has accomplished, for I fully expected her to be like a heroin junky in withdrawal when the day came to say goodbye to this faithful friend of hers. She is remarkably unfazed and only whines about it occasionally. I am so stinking proud of her. I seriously thought this day would never come.

Elizabeth has successfully switched over to Alimentum formula with no trouble at all. Yay Alimentum! I was so nervous to attempt it, but after keeping her on Elecare turned into an insurance-driven, prohibitively expensive nightmare, it became apparent that it was time to try. She sailed through the trial and switched over completely in a week's time. As a result, I have three cans of Elecare for sale! Anyone who wants it, contact me.

School officials evaluated Erin for her issues with separation and anxiety. She clearly has an anxiety and mood disorder, and possibly attention deficit disorder. I have to find a counselor for her, and possibly for us, to help all of us deal with these issues. I am struggling with her. I admit that much freely. But I'm not surprised at this conclusion given what life has been like with her for all these years. I watch her go from happy and content and at peace with her surroundings to having everything fall apart a moment later. She screams, she hits, she throws uncontrollable tantrums and there is no consequence available to my creative parenting mind to make her want to do better, or at very least avoid the threatened consequence.

I know that there is relief in suggesting a classification, but I never wanted to label my kids. I never wanted to think of them as having something "wrong with them." No one does. But there are always issues, and there always will be. Christ, I'm riddled with them. I don't really know anyone who doesn't have some sort of hang-up, some issue with anxiety or lack of coping skills. But to watch this bright, sweet girl sinking further and further inside of herself breaks my heart. To watch her scream and cry and tug at her hair and clothing when she's upset or worried hurts so much. I want to take her pain away and make everything feel comfortable for her. This is the most difficult struggle we face as parents.

But it is a beautiful Sunday, the last of summer, and the Eagles play at 4:15. I have the makings for homemade tomato sauce and dinner is defrosting. Erin has a birthday party to attend for a boy in her class and we can walk right up the street to the boy's house. Pete and I had an awesome night out in Philly, hung out with our friends, and had both of our mothers here to take care of the kids for several hours. For these things I am grateful, and need to focus on them and maintain my perspective about these issues with Erin. I must remind myself that each of my children is an individual with strengths and weaknesses, and Erin, as the oldest, must forge these roads with Pete and me for the first time. None of us has ever done this before. It is true that it gets easier with each child, there is no doubt about that. But the oldest needs to be given some slack...they are the guinea pig and the parents are the scientists, constantly tweaking and trying and experimenting with variables to figure out what works. Maybe just focusing on all of the good and keeping my view at 10,000 feet about this challenging time will help us sail through it with a little more ease.