Amazing. Simply amazing.

Today we went to a PE class put on for homeschoolers by a local rec center. It was a first for us, but I must have slept well last night, because when I got up and the reminder email was in my inbox, we got ready and went.

Another first that I’m still rather in shock about:

We’d planned to go to the zoo today. With the PE class plans, we decided to pack a lunch and head to the zoo after. Driving away from the class, I heard words I’d never heard before.

“I’m too tired.”

Writing it down lest I forget this moment, Eden Rayne was too tired to do something at 10:45 am. She actually asked if we could go home instead.

I’m thinking PE is good for Eden.

Pregnant brain.

Someone I know, ahem, who just happens to be seven months pregnant, told me this story the other day.

She’d made supper, mixing cheese in with meat, and announced to her family that supper was moments away. Just waiting for the cheese to melt.

And waiting.

And waiting.

Finally, the husband of my dear sister friend checked the cheese package. It read something quite similar to this:

‘Hash browns.’

Chalk it up to pregnant brain. To three - and almost four - kids three and under. Or something.

Goodnight.

As of 9:49 pm, my eleventh load of laundry was in the washing machine, only four bath towels remained on the laundry room floor, school work for the day is done, the house is picked up, all six children had received three meals today and are now in bed, Blaine is still gone at his meeting, and a good book beckons me from my due-to-be laundered couch.

Whew. I would rather not replay this day again any time soon.

I paid out $.25 in extra jobs for the day, (kids work cheap!) the fridge is washed out, the table legs are clean (er) and Brady had a hair cut and is looking cleaner and fluffier than the bath towels that I did get washed.

As for the age-old discussion on why we’ve purchased beds for our children, it still remains a topic.

 

The reasons we wonder why are so clearly displayed by Ruby tonight.

Goodnight.

It’s Monday.

You know those days when nothing is funny, no matter how you look at it?

I’m having one of those.

I have about 10 loads of laundry to do. (No exaggeration, I switched sizes on three kids and have all their “new” laundry from storage to wash, plus the weekend’s, plus a set of wet sheets, plus a wet nap mat… get my drift? At least 10.) Something better break the ice quick. If one more crayon box, marble jar, or coin cup (filled with 500 coins) hits the floor today, I may very well scream.

You know, because I haven’t already.

If you aren’t feeling badly for me, consider this: Blaine has a meeting tonight and won’t be home for supper.

Ok, screaming commences.

Funny or weird. You pick.

Charlotte woke me up in the night, blanket in one hand, cup in the other. Slightly sobbing, she handed me the empty cup and asked me to fill it. She dropped her blanket, and when I picked it up, I noticed it wasn’t her blanket at all, but a silky nightgown.

She took it, held it up with a look of confusion, and stared not her striped blanket but Dora in the face. Enough to have nightmares, for sure. '”Hello, sleepy girl, losing her cool due to lack of proper hydration. I’m Dora. Lovely olive complexion, perfect hair (Despite having been crumpled for the past six hours, thank you for that.) and the ability to have my backpack, my map, and my monkey all talk and obey me. Oh, and I consistently beat the fox with sticky fingers, every time.”

I’m raising daughters of self confidence, apparently. She doesn’t struggle with the comparisons we women so often put ourselves though, looking everywhere to see how we’re failing compared to the next woman/mom/wife. She looked confused for but a moment, took her refilled water, and went back to bed, snuggling her sister’s nightgown.

I, on the other hand, had a series of funny-to-me thoughts as I lay there, unable to go back to sleep. You get to witness secondhand what sleep-deprived does to me.

Oh, and I got up and cancelled an Amazon order at 4am when I realized I’d forgotten to add something to it. Yep, on my toes last night, for sure.

That’s one big bird.

Liberty’s penmanship asked her to answer the question, “How do you think the barn swallow got it’s name?”

She looked at me with utter confusion.

“Because they swallowed a barn?!”

We’re getting serious now.

Sterling needs to do math. He tells me, though, that he’s making me a spanking spoon. He’s made a pattern out of paper and is headed for his hand saw to make a wooden one now.

That thing is at least 12 inches long.

Who am I to mess with that?!

Wonder who he plans it for?

Ruby’s trying to catch the dust she can see floating in the sunlight. We’re going to be a while. She turns four on Labor Day and can. not. wait. She’s going to drive me crazy with the asking.

Eden talked of her ree-lay’-tives today. Phonetic, anyone? Then she threw arcatick in there and I began to wonder at my phonics teaching abilities completely. It reminds me of my inability, to this day, to pronounce ‘façade’ correctly.

Pierce learned to crawl on all fours instead of scooting on his belly. My stain removal attempts thank him.

Charlotte’s decided the best place to sleep is on the nap mat I made for her to take to co-op. And we buy them beds why?

Liberty got her own email address. She’s having the time of her life. And we discovered something: she can email Blaine and I. I have a glimpse into her soul, via email.

Sterling is getting better and better at reading. He’s on an endurance run to finish the set of forty books I have to teach him to read. He’s finished 13. He expects to be Einstein by #36.

I caught up on laundry yesterday. There’s less than a full load to do today. I can’t remember when that happened last. Years, maybe.

Blaine and I celebrate our 10th anniversary next month. We hope to go away for a night. Unless Pierce sleeps through the night consistently before then, though… anyone have ideas that do not require the baby crying for hours with five other children in the room?

Words from the mouth of Eden.

“Mom, I saved you some work. I kind of cost you money too, but I saved you some work!”

“Howwwww??????”

“I broke my bowl I used at lunch. Now you don’t have to wash it. I mean, you’ll have to buy a new one, but you won’t have to wash this one!”

Such a line of thinking. She scares me.

Try again, Momma.

Pierce discovered throwing things down the wooden stairs (we have just five of them) was great fun and incredibly loud.

After playing fetch with Ruby for many minutes, he made a grievous error in judgment and decided to throw himself down the stairs.

Liberty was faster than Momma. She saved the day boy.

Hooray for Liberty. Momma needs to practice that dive. That was pathetic.

Did you know?

When you order from my Amazon link, over on the right, a percentage of your purchases goes toward my blog and supports a big (little) family. If you have a purchase to make, starting there helps out and doesn’t cost you a thing.

Start here? http://www.amazon.com/?&linkCode=waa&tag=abiglittfami-20

Many, many thanks for your support!

For Pete’s sake.

Last night when Pierce woke up in the night to eat, I fed him, put him back to bed, and checked the clock, wide awake and wondering if it was even worth going back to bed since it had to be nearly morning.

It was 11:20 pm. Less than an hour after heading to bed, and I couldn’t sleep.

Guess what I want to do today? Not a darn thing. But that couch is looking mighty inviting.

Orange (somewhat healthy!) Popsicles

1 tub (32 oz.) vanilla yogurt

2 cans thawed oj concentrate

1 tsp. vanilla

Mix, pour into popsicle molds, freeze. Mmm, so good.

Pizza night.

8/10’s of the kids and cousins that were here this week. As you can see, not a one of them enjoyed the pizza. :)

Back to your regularly scheduled chaos.

Vacation’s over.

Guests left, dishwasher’s running, and life is back to normal. The house is too quiet. Actually, it’s not quiet at all. But it’s all our noise and none of the joyful cousins-playing noise. Boringly normal.

So normal, in fact, that Blaine’s sick, Charlotte is still recovering, and Pierce is back to his mostly chipper self after a bout with a cold through the week. It remains to be seen if we shared the bug with our guests. Or with more siblings. Or with Momma.

There’s just never a dull moment. Quiet moments, yes. Quiet moments like when Pierce dumps the jumbo sized bag of honey nut cheerios on the kitchen floor. Oh yes.

But no one washed hair with the unlabeled contents of any cups this week, so we’re all good. Or at the very least, I didn’t hear about it.

Many, many thanks to our guests family that visited this week. We had the time of our lives. I haven’t laughed like that in ages. We couldn’t have asked for a better visit. Cousins played, laughed, and made the best of memories. Dominoes into the wee hours made for such fun after-mommying hours, and no one complained about cramped quarters even once. We even left ten children to them one night and Blaine and I went out for supper. I married into an awesome family. :)

Hello… goodbye.

Interrupting this blogging silence to inform my throngs of readers that we have family visiting this week. Cousins, dominoes, and late night chats over root beer floats abound.

I’ll resurface soon. But for now… we’re having a blast.

Gross on a Farm Road in Missouri.

Tonight’s bath time was out of a horror movie, Momma-style.

I had most of the kids in the tub, lined up. I walked out for a minute to check on supper (backwards, I know, bath then supper, but it’s the way tonight was going) and when I came back in, I set to work. Grabbing a cup off the edge of the tub, I stuck my finger in it to be certain it wasn’t cold and, finding it quite warm, poured it over one dear child’s head.

Minutes later, smelling pee in a bathroom I’d just scrubbed, I asked if someone had peed in the tub. Since Pierce was already out, all remaining parties were old enough to know better. Silence. And then the truth came out. Two small children, too lazy to get out of the tub, peed in a cup. Then, so kind to keep it out of the water, they set it on the side of the tub.

Have you filled in the blanks yet? Oh yes. I just wet one dear child’s hair with that cup.

The jury’s still out on whether I can raise up these hooligans up to be productive citizens.

HELP!

I need a new blog name. It’s grown enough I’d like to get my own blog address, without the blogspot account… but I need a really good name before I venture into worlds unknown.

Suggestions? Discussions? Admonitions to leave well enough alone?

I want…

- a name that will work for a long time. A Big (Little) family has a limited shelf life… they won’t be little forever.

- something easy to remember. balesf5 has meaning to me, but who else knows what it stands for? And how entirely outdated it is?

- I’d considered something with falcon or birds or nests to write a blog about kids. No desire to write about birds, but our last name has leanings toward Falcons. I can’t find a straight answer if that’s really what it means, but there’s a good possibility.

- I’m so not creative like that. Anyone?

If anyone cares to chip in, I’d gladly make a child’s bracelet, a tube sling, or a pair of baby shoes for the naming winner who comes up with something that suits me. For the blog, you know. I really could keep my own name, thanks.

You’d be credited and have my undying appreciation. :)

Makes a good teether, I guess.

He was being awfully quiet.

He found the potato and onion bin. Good choice on the potato instead of the onion, little dude.

Mmm, breakfast.

Friendly fire, ridiculousness, and midnight hairdos.

Night times are interesting around here lately. Temps are dropping in the night, Charlotte wakes up cold, climbs in bed with us, tosses, turns, kicks, kisses and giggles until I finally wake up enough to realize what’s going on. Put Charlotte back in bed. Might as well wake Sterling up, tell him to use the bathroom while I’m up. Back to bed. Lay there, trying to get back to sleep.

Pierce wakes up to eat. While he’s eating, Charlotte comes back into bed with us. She’s back to pushing and pulling and stealing my pillow and laying on my face and “fixing” my hair and beeping my nose, and it occurs to me.

This, my friends, is ridiculous.

It’s like a war zone. Friendly fire. Really cute, energetic, demanding, friendly fire, outfitted in blonde hair and blue eyes.

Ridiculous. It’s just ridiculous. One of these days, I’m going to get up and go sleep in their beds.

Just as soon as they graduate from the crib mattresses.