Laundry Fun

Rawrrrr!


"Mom--where me?" (Where am I?)


"I hidin"


All done.

A Wonder

We ran out of bread, and planned to buy some while we were out running errands. Unfortunately, we spent so long doing non-grocery shopping that by the time we got to the grocery store it was closed.

We stopped at a tiny convenience store near home instead.

To my horror, Patrick came out of the store carrying this:

Me: What could ever have possessed you to purchase that? (insert gagging noise)
Him: It was either that or the Wonder Classic White.
Me: But...this is Wonder Classic White.
Him: My point exactly.

Funny Guy.

Chocolate Sauce FAIL!

Isn't this a sad sight? Positively depressing.

This was an attempt to surprise and reward my children for being such good helpers during a very hectic week. I had five million things to do, and they had all pitched in and did the things I asked, without complaining.

I didn't tell them they'd be rewarded. My original plan was to drive through Wendy's and buy a round of Frosties. But then I thought about how long it takes to get everyone in the car. I contemplated the possibility that the teeny baby might not cooperate in the car (he's very unpredictable!), and decided homemade is the way to go. I was cooking for a party anyway--what was another dirty pan?

Why I reached for, and more importantly used, the saucier instead of the double-boiler, I do not know. I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the string of mostly non-sleeping nights that preceded this day--and all the way back to the day before Declan was born. But no matter. The fact is, I was using the wrong pan. The chocolate burned and there was no saving it.

It pains me to remember.

After doing away with the contents of that pan, I tried again. This time I used the double-boiler and got better results. Nothing spectacular, but it was edible. Clearly, I need more practice. Sorry I didn't take any photos. New baby in the house = Mom's not herself. I'm happy to report that the sundaes were devoured with great zeal. No pictures of that either. I'll get better. I'm sure I will. Pretty sure, anyway.

Squeaky Clean

Declan received his first sacrament on Sunday. Fr. Don, on his last day at our parish, baptised him during the 8 a.m. Mass. Many of our local friends joined us for the celebration, then came to the house afterward for breakfast.

Declan slept through the entire Mass! Liam on the other hand, behaved like a two-year-old. Gahhhh! He is normally pretty well-behaved during Mass, but on this special ocassion we were asked to sit in the front-most pew on the side opposite to where we normally sit. This pew is basically just a bench. It has no kneeler, and has direct access to the altar. It is a recipe for chaos.

Liam ran around and made lots and lots of noise. His Dad removed him from the service on at least three ocassions. He spent most of the time secure in his Daddy's arms, but any time he wasn't, he was causing a comotion. It was a bit exhausting.

After the candle-lighting, when the father accepts the candle from the godfather--that part? That was an exercise in agility for Patrick. He held (30-pound) Liam in one arm, and held the lighted candle in his other, free hand. Once Liam discovered the candle it was his mission to blow it out. He preceeded each attempt by loudly proclaiming, "Blow da candle, Daddy?" and then blowing with all his might. This caused Patrick to s-t-r-e-t-c-h the candle-holding arm out as far as he could to protect the flame, the very Light of Christ! I was laughing, the deacon was laughing, but what could we do? Liam made three or four attempts at dousing the light, when finally Patrick was given permission to "hand it off to the godfather". Whew.


Declan Joseph was baptised in the Name of the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit.


Sean assisted the priest by drying off Declan's little head. He also helped out with the jar of chrism. When Declan was baptised and anointed, the priest took my baby from me and walked him slowly back up the aisle of the church for all to see.

It was a beautiful event!


...and now his head smells like chrism. Heaven on earth!

He's Here!

Surprise! Baby #5 decided to show up early. This is a first for our family. Holly was 8 days late, Laurel 10 days late, and Sean a whopping 15 days late. Liam was induced (so that doesn't count) to prevent going past dates. Never did I expect to deliver early! It took many hours of labor before I was convinced I'd be actually having a baby that day. I'm sure the nurse thought I was nuts. Whenever she'd mention giving birth, I'd squeal, "Today? I'm having a baby today!"

Declan Joseph arrived ten days early weighing 9# 5oz. It was a grueling labor--15 hours--but well worth it, of course!

Anyway, here he is! Beautiful and healthy.





Liam makes a fine big brother and asks "Baby kiss?" 10,000 times a day--and then plants a big old smooch smack onto Declan's face. So far, baby brother is taking it all in stride.

Baby Turning

So baby Declan is not one for staying in a certain spot for more than, I'd say 10 seconds. I wonder if this is an indication of things to come...

Last week, during my 37th week of pregnancy the doctor wanted to try to "turn the baby". Sounds easy, doesn't it? Turn a doorknob...flip a pancake. How do you turn a baby? I'll tell you how.

First, you have to fast. Fast as in not eat for hours. Hours and hours (eight hours, to be exact). Not only that, but you have to refrain from liquids, too for the final four hours of fasting. This was not easy!

Then, off to the hospital. It has to be done in the hospital, they say, "in case of an emergency". This scares me. I am told that it is "very rare" that anything would happen that would constitute an emergency, but it makes me wonder...what if...it's too early to deliver. I was not at ease. Stripping down and putting on the gunnysack of a hospital gown did nothing to boost my confidence or allay my fears.

Kind nurses strapped me to computerized monitors, like so many times before--same procedure as I'd been going through for the bi-weekly non-stress tests. "We want to make sure we're starting off with a good baby", they said. Of course you are! This baby is The Goodest!

The doctor is delayed. Traffic. This, I believe. In the meantime, a nurse named Linda sits in the rocker near my bed and asks me if I've been briefed on what's about to happen. She explains that I'll be given a shot of...something...to relax the uterine muscles. She then tells me that the procedure will most probably hurt. I hold out hope that perhaps baby Declan has already turned on his own, and that Patrick and I can go out and have a steak dinner instead of going through with this procedure.

I am told by three different nurses that my doctor is "very good at this". He calls my nurse on the phone and she leaves the room. When she returns, she informs me that the doc said that no injection will be necessary. I'm feeling better!

In walks the doctor. A quick ultrasound is done to determine the baby's position. His little head is now on my right side--last we knew, it was on the left! "I expect you'll feel uncomfortable", says the doc, "but it shouldn't really hurt", and then he rolls up his sleeves and tucks his tie into his shirt. I feel like the engine of a vehicle that's about to get a tune up. It is not a pleasant feeling. Two nurses and my loving husband stand at the foot of the bed, watching the monitor, the doctor; my belly. A sheet covers me from the hips down. My view of pretty much everything is blocked by the doctor's arms.

My belly is covered with gel--lots and lots of it. Then the doc finds Baby's bottom with his right hand, and his head with his left. He pushes with his right hand a little, then a little more. Then it feels as though he's reaching up under my ribs (aaaack!) with his left hand but--blooop! Something (someONE) moved! That quick. He grabbed the ultrasound probe to double-check ("that was too easy"), but sure enough--vertex baby!

More monitoring, chit-chat, well-wishes, a blood draw, and a rhogam shot. I am given water, but no food. I have to stay in bed for another hour to make sure the baby tolerated everything well. He did!

Finally, 2-1/2 hours after we arrived I am released. The lack of food is making me sick, but I'm elated that the procedure went so well.

The next time I'm in that hospital bed it will be the real thing. God, help me. Please!

Good Help is Hard to Find

Lately my children seem to complain about every.single.thing I ask them to do around the house--even schoolwork, which they know is non-negotiable. It makes me cranky.

But today...today while the Dad and the three older ones were away, I began to empty the dishwasher. Who toddled up, unasked and eager to help?

Liam!

He grabbed the tableware basket full of clean (non-sharp) utensils and made his way to the cutlery drawer. Without complaining.

Perhaps there is hope for the rest of them.

His handiwork leaves a bit to be desired, but I so appreciate his helpful spirit!