The Remote

So, Monday night the kids are all safely tucked in bed, snacks and bottles are made, garbage to the sidewalk... etc. etc. etc.

Finally time to sit and zone out in front of the TV- Grown up time has arrived.

Me- You have the remote?

K- No, I don't think so.

Me- Is it under the cushions, couch..., chair..., ottoman..., ??? (you get the idea)

We can't find it- ANYWHERE!

Now this is a catastrophe for us. Most programs we watch have been recorded on our DVR, and without the remote we are clueless about how to access those shows. Not to mention, our satellite box is located in an antique'ish blanket box under the TV. So in order to get to the box we have to lift off the TV- not an easy task and certainly not one I'm up to at 9:00 at night. I'm done, I want to sit and push buttons on my remote or turn pages in a small, lightweight, paperback book.

We both spend 10-15 minutes searching the house, mostly downstairs where the TV is- seems logical right? And a bit upstairs, just in case.

AhHa, we remember we actually have a new remote in a box in the closet from when we thought the other one was broken and our kindly satellite folks sent us a new one- Turns out the old one started working fine, so we never opened the new one. Problem solved, yes? No.

What follows is an hour of trying to program the new remote, a call to the all knowing satellite tech folks, lifting the TV off the box anyway, some groaning, complaining and a few moments of laughter and Voila! We have TV! Yahoo!

Let's just speed forward to Tuesday morning when I think to ask my kids- Anyone seen the remote??

Gracie immediately says- Yeah, it's upstairs, I saw it with some tape and stuff, blue tape.

No way... I looked upstairs, never saw it. You gotta be kidding.

Sure enough, there it is all safe and sound, in the K'Nex bin, taped (with blue tape) to the telescope.

Apparently, this was all part of Gus's diobolical plot to turn the channels while we weren't looking- while he was sleeping, and we weren't watching TV because we couldn't find the remote... Devious isn't he?

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Numerous Things I Say Everyday

Do you have to go potty?

Clean up your toys.

Are you hungry?

Just a second.

Not yet.

Stop making that noise.

Let's go.

Do you need a new diaper?

I'm right here.

What do you need?

Quiet voices in the house.

Do you have to go potty?

Use your words, please.

Yes..?? (Usually in reponse to, Mama???)

Put your shoes in the basket/ your cubby.

SHHHHHH....

I'm trying to cook.

Hold on, I'm on the phone.

Stop yelling.

Did you wipe? wash your hands? flush? turn off the light? (usually in that order)

I love you, too.

Please don't.

Do you need a bottle?

Am I speaking French????

Walk.

Stop running.

Close the gate.

Watch out for the babies.


And the ever popular...

BE CAREFUL


P.S. We ate the caramel and I washed the pot...

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Caramel

How long can you leave a pot of melted caramel on top of the stove?

I think we made caramel and chocolate covered apples on Sunday, maybe Saturday. Having many helpers unwrap the carmels and being a bit over zealous about making sure we had enough to cover all apples- plus I love caramel- we have a lot leftover.

A few nights ago I heated it back up and drizzled it over some ice cream- lovely!

This morning I added a bit to my coffee- Mmmmmm!

What next? Turns out I'm really the only fan of the caramel covered apples- What is wrong with my children?? And I can only eat so many of those. Drizzle it over some turkey? Add it to the sweet potato casserole, actually that might not be bad...Oh, wait, how about ontop of apple pie??? Now that sounds good.

Dilemma- transport it down to my brother's house for the festivities (still in the same pot, of course) or leave at home another day or two and hope that we bring leftover pie home???

Which brings me back to- Just how long can you leave a pot of carmel hanging out on top of the stove???

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The Day After

Yesterday, on the way to afternoon kindergarten and preschool drop off we happened upon a car accident. Fresh car accident.

There were sirens behind me as I approached the scene, where there were already sirens present. All accounted for- Police, Fire, and Ambulance. (Or as my kids would say- The firefighters, policemans and paranuggets- had to throw something cute into this tale) This was our normal route, and while I had to pull over a few times to let the sirens through, I assumed we were on our way. Not so, not so.

The people were still leaping out of cars and coming from the elementary school (not ours) that was located on the corner, the paramedics were moving very fast. I did not like the looks of it. There was a car blocking the intersection and another off to the side. The gentleman in the car to the side, appeared older and was staring out at the scene, head shaking back and forth and then dropping into his hands. We waited.

I had the window down in case there were instructions from the officers. And of course I was eyeing the cars and people milling about to see if it was some one I recognize- hoping of course that I wouldn't. I noticed my neighbor, the principal of this elementary school approaching the scene, and surmised that it probably really was a school family. This was the hour for kindergarten pick up and drop off- the morning kids were on their way home and the afternoon kids just coming in.

In my head there was a lot of Oh shit, Oh shit, Oh shit.

Out my mouth was the calm mother voice to my three four year olds and two six year olds... 'Well, it looks like it is a serious accident, we need to wait our turn, just like at the drinking fountain, to go through. The firefighters and police officers want to make sure everyone is safe, so they are checking and we are going to wait. Yeah, there is a lot of people... everyone just wants to make sure the people inside the cars are ok. Well, I don't think anyone is dead honey... the paramedics are taking people to make sure they are ok- you know like when we go to the Dr. and she gives us medicine and you are better in a few days...'

It was our turn to wind our way through some side streets and make our way to school. I did not recognize the cars, did not see the occupants of the more seriously damaged car. We were a few minutes late, but all was well.

On the way home I called preschool, remembering my very verbose four year old daughter would be giving her classmates and teachers an earful- she of 'they are probably dead' comments. Sure enough, information had already been given. I gave the teacher the grown up version and we were on our way.

The intersection was still closed. This was almost an hour later, as K drop off and Preschool dropoff, while on the same campus, are 50 minutes apart.

Not good. As I approached and was pointed towards a different route, I noticed the amount of personnel on the accident scene. I asked the officer- investigation? Yes. Any fatalities? Not yet. (ughhh)

On our return to school for pick up- 2.5 hours later- I again follow my same route. No go. We wind our way around and I make the necessary calls in case we are a few minutes late. As I get to school, I apologize. Bad accident, road is still closed, no I didn't recognize anyone or any car... So sorry.

Others have encountered the same road closure and we discover that one of our school families seems to be involved in some way- they picked up their kids early, mumbling something about an accident. Hmmm... Small town... hmmm...

Sure enough- two hours later I find out. It was a mom and kindergartner we know. Our kids went to preschool together last year. They were on their way home from kindergarten. Mom was not seriously injured. The daughter was airlifted to a major hospital for a look at back and neck injuries.

The daughter is in surgery now- to stabilize her neck.

It is risky.

She does not have movement from the neck down and does not look like she will regain it.

I am not a religious person, but I am sending it out there... Positive vibes, positive energy, Please, please, please...




P.S. Yes, she was in a booster seat. And does it matter whose fault it was??? Buckle up, be careful.

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Little Things

It's the little things that make me happy, make me feel like I am ok.

The jump from six to eight kids certainly made an impact. I was exhausted, everything took longer. The bottles, diapers, strapping them in their car seats, the increase in laundry, but that was nine months ago. This school year the details escape me. I can't seem to remember who needs what where, which preschool class is performing, who needs what for the Thanksgiving feast and when is it anyway??

Now, our youngest, Ruby was diagnosed with a rare congenital disorder that could cause irreparable harm- This occurred as a result of a trivial fall on 8/31. Glutaric Aciduria Type 1 is the name of this nasty disease. At nine months, she appears to be completely healthy, yet we know that another fall could cause a damaging brain bleed. And then there is the threat of dehydration which, in layman's terms, would allow toxins to build up and cause irreversible brain damage. So she isn't supposed to get sick.

A nine month old, not supposed to get sick. Are you hearing that? No fevers, no stomach distress, no ear infections, no bad colds- cuz if she does, she is to be hospitalized. Day or night, if there is a threat of dehydration she is to be admitted to the hospital for IV fluids etc, etc, etc. The advice we were given - Your job is to keep her alive until she is one- that's the most critical year, well, and then until she is two. How 'bout that for a bit of a reality check??

So you know, now that I write about it, I don't think it's the leap from six to eight. It's Ruby.

But, the point of this rambling, is that with eight young children there is a lot of juggling, a lot of grey hair, and apparently, quite a bit of forgetting- and here is the little thing that makes me happy about that.

A friend, mother of two, can't remember either. Today she asks me- now which class is collecting for the homeless shelter, preschool or kindergarten?

I love that.

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Eating Like A Baby

Here's what I love about my nine month old who won't eat baby food.

Yup- no baby food for Julia. Try to feed her with a spoon and she turns her head. These days if I even try to put food in her mouth- a little tidbit or so, she purses her lips and turns her head. She won't eat a teething biscuit even. However, I have discovered some french bread toast does the trick. She'll gnaw on it for a while, snorting and snuffling like a little piggy.

I say that endearingly. It really is darling. But here is the clincher... I love the way when she is done with whatever is in her mouth, or she sees something that just looks better, she just uses that tongue of hers to push the current occupant right on out of the way. Yeah, just done with that- next.




Don't you kinda wish we could do that too??

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Long Hot Shower

This morning I had the luxury of taking a long hot shower- one of my most favorite solo activities. While enjoying the steam cloud every glass and mirrored surface in the bathroom. I had these random thoughts- many of them in fact. Some were mildly important, some completely inconsequential. I had this idea that I would blog these thoughts. I envisioned the list, debated to myself if I should number the thoughts, perhaps a bulleted list, or maybe writing them in no particular order.

I was pretty happy with this idea. Fabulous, not only did I take a long hot shower, but I made a plan!

Things I didn't like about having the stomach flu for three days- why I want to medicate my child...on and on they went.

Now, they're gone. Perhaps down the drain... Maybe, because I stopped to scrub the shower since no one was screaming or crying, yet, the thoughts were all washed away. Well... another day. More memory cells gone.

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Bad Mama

Bad Mama, Bad Mama... It was mid way through the trauma that I thought I must take pictures of this and blog the story. I think that might make me a bad mother... or maybe an emerging blog hog.

So, I am trying to get dinner made, MIL is coming for dinner- a fairly regular event, and A. is here to pick up her boys who have spent a few hours destroying, I mean playing, at our house. Suddenly, screams erupt from the upper regions, screams with an edge- a something wrong kind of edge... Mia comes down the stairs, alternately screaming and sobbing as only an extremely loud four year old girl can do. GRACE.... PUT... SOMETHING... UP... MY... NOSE!

Holy Cow, please not a trip to the ER -up your nose?

Grace fills us in... We were playing a game.

Really? What game?

Grace- the put something up your nose game...

I see. Clearly a game that has hard and fast rules- harmless and fun like UNO??

Grace- blank, somewhat quizzical stare

Well, what did you put up your sister's nose?

Grace- A shoe.

A what?

Grace- A shoe.

What kind of shoe?
(Perhaps she has seen the nobloshoemo flickr site and was looking for a truly original way to photograph an entry...)

Grace- A Polly Pocket shoe. I thought I could do a magic trick, like when Leo pulled that rock out of your ear.

Ohhhhh...Mommy and I exchange a nod.

Ok, so now we know what to look for-A quick lift to the kitchen counter and sure enough there it is, way up there, only to be viewed with Mia's head tilted far, far back. Far enough, that Mia is gagging in between sobs. A quick sprint to the medicine cabinet produces the best tweezers ever- A present given to me years ago from my mother. They are very fine pointed, sharp tweezers- wonderful for removing splinters. They are the perfect for the task at hand, except of course, for the very sharp ends...

Back went the head, in went the tweezers, out came the shoe. No punctured sinuses.






A high heeled, slightly orange, open toed, Polly Pocket shoe.






ER avoided!











Poor A., mother of two, head spinning from the chaos that is our lives.

Lessons learned?
1. Nothing smaller than your elbow goes up your nose.

2. Magic tricks are for when you are ten.

3. High heeled shoes are bad.

4. Mom gives the most useful presents.

Dinner was about 30 minutes late.

Oh yeah, and yesterday when we were cleaning up the family room and Ruby avoided certain death from legos, knex and all things chokable... Apparently she did not avoid ALL things, as I discovered when I changed her diaper a few moments ago and discovered a tiny little 'O' bead... 'O' for -Oh my....

I'll spare you the pictures of that!

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Prop 85

Californians...In case there is any question...



Thanks to citymama

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The Big House

And no, I don't mean an insane asylum...

Happy One Year Anniversary, I think. Is that what you call it when you have live in "the new house" for a year, an anniversary? Hmmm... not sure about that.

I'm embarrassed to admit that we live in a very large home. What I love about this is that there is plenty of room for everyone to spread out. I swear there is less bickering because of all the extra space.

Leo, at ten, is privileged to have his own room complete with an extra bed for sleepovers. The others share a room. Grace and Mia in one. Gus, Jack and Abe in another large room. The girls, well, technically they share a room, but in actuality Ruby has her own room because she sleeps through the night and Julia is with us because she doesn't, yet! At nine months, today, she is the oldest to not be sleeping through the night. She is still up at least twice for a bottle and then right back to sleep unless of course it is after 4:30 or so and then she sleeps rather fitfully and often joins us in bed for the last couple of hours in the morning. This is exhausting when it is night after night.

Last night we thought it might be time to try letting her cry it out. We lasted and excruciating long hour. Now, it wasn't screaming and crying the entire time. There was intermittent dozing, for Julia. After an hour I couldn't take it anymore. It was a bottle, some cuddling and right to sleep. I guess she isn't ready. She is a little thing still and is crawling all over the place. Spending a lot of calories, but she refuses baby food and will only feed herself what she can get in her mouth. She hates to stop and eat during the day, so I am thinking she is making up the calories at night. Oh well, perhaps another few months of exhaustion... I digress. I started this post thinking about the pros and cons of having a large home...

Pro's:
4 bathrooms for 10 people
craft room for mommy with a door that closes!
a huge kitchen
room for a table that fits 10
dining room for special occasions (like the never ending laundry)
a laundry room with a place for the extra fridge!
grown up living room
family room (1000+ sqft) filled with toys, ping pong and foosball table
master bedroom downstairs (nice for the "older years")
room for guests

Cons:
4 bathrooms to clean
lots of floor to mop
many rooms to heat and cool (Summers are in the upper 90's low 100's)
no intercom system
I'm the maid

The last con counts for at least 10 or 15...

All this, while I sit and supervise the cleaning of the family room. The oldest six are madly cleaning while Ruby crawls about narrowly avoiding certain death by legos, knex, and all things small and chokable. This room turns into a disaster so fast- At times I threaten to walk in with a garbage bag. Today, some boys called to come over and play. Nothing like a few friends wanting to come over to provide the incentive to get this room clean. It's working! Yahoo!

Next time, and once I figure out how it is that you post a photo within a post, I will show a before and after shot.

You'll die.

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New Tooth

Abe, #6, discovered I had a new tooth-

Abe- Mama, mama, you have a new tooth, I see it!

Me- I do, how can you see it?

Abe- I can, I can see it, oh Mama you have a ring in your mouth, it isn't a new tooth, it's all shiny- why do you have a ring in your mouth?

Me- well, it's called a crown and it helps protect my tooth

Abe- a crown, in your mouth?

Me - Yeah... you know what that means...???

Abe- What?

Me- Well, I have a crown, so that means I am THE Queen!

I wish I had a picture of the surprise and smile that crossed his face...

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4+4=10

4+4=10
Originally uploaded by Trixamina.

Taken this summer at Seaside, Oregon in July.

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Mommy Blogs

I have just discovered the "mommy blogs" never knew such a thing existed- And decided I wanted to give it a try. What a great way to vent, to keep track of the happenings of our lives, of my own rollercoasters. Am trying to figure out how to create a new blog skin design. i guess I'll have to google this...

I am inspired and overwhelmed at the same time- what do I write, what's funny enough, silly enough, serious enough? Do I choose one event, the whole day? The possibilities laid out in front of me are daunting. I believe I will aspire to write what ever moves me- this is the purpose afterall, and try not to get caught up in the nuances, the details of it all.

Let's start with the title- Four boys and four girls plus two parents is ten, get it?

The reason for unorthodox? We are a two mom family, raising eight kids, three biological, three adopted, and two foster. Of the kids, four are Caucasian, three Mexican, and one Laotian. Parents, both caucasian. A large family by anyones standards- Eight kids, all under the age of ten. And just to add to the confusion that is our family, we have three four year olds, two six year olds and two almost nine month olds, but only one set of twins in the bunch! Ready... The ten year old is a single birth, biological. The six year olds, 5 days apart, biological- I gave birth to one, my partner the other- yes, we had the same due date!~ One four year old is 7 months older than the other two. The other two are our only twins! The nine month olds are nine hours apart- two different moms, two different nationalities. Whew... that was difficult to write down, hopefully not to difficult to comprehend.
HERE THEY ARE... well, above

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New Adventure

And so it begins, an adventure in the internet world. Auspicious, perhaps- a bit nutty, definitely! What is a SAHM of eight to do with her ample free time? Hide in the pantry eating Halloween candy until I get a headache from the rush of sugar? I've experienced the adventure in moving, adventure of childbirth, adventures abound...now to add this to the list!

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