I have returned!

I miraculously survived to flights with three children, 11 days of doing all night and early morning wakings, and more snot than is fair to make a person deal with. But, we had a fabulous time with Oma, the boys adored the beach and I am sated by my most favorite of foods.

Not a whole lot to report, I mostly just took advantage of having to be NOWHERE on any given day at any given time. We spent most mornings in our pajamas playing with Oma's toy collection and watching cartoons. We spent afternoons at the local playgrounds or the beach, very low key. I did get to see my two girlfriends and their husbands to reminisce about easier days but mostly entertain the six children we've managed to produce in the last five years. Times have changes, yes they have.

Here are a few pictures from our trip:

2 4 6 8, getting sleep is really great!

Not that I would know. Poor Gert is up about every hour coughing and miserable. I feel so bad for her, but dammit I'm tired. BWB can't be of much help because all she wants is to nurse. If she's not nursing, she's crying--that pitiful hoarse cry that makes your stomach hurt. Or, she's coughing and hacking and puking. I'm not sure which is worse. Have I mentioned that RSV SUCKS? Just checking.

Despite the lack of sleep and plentiful mucus, we're still boarding a plane at 5pm and heading to Florida. By we, I mean, me and the kids. ALONE. Just me. and them. on a plane. Should be fun, no? I went out and bought a new portable DVD player (our old one was definitely not Scottish), and will be packing lots of small toys and snacks to entertain the boys. I'm hoping that Gert will sleep like she did on the way to Vegas and that the altitude will not be a problem for her with all the congestion. And don't worry, the trip was cleared by the pediatrician, he said the humid air in Florida will be good for her. So at least I got that goin' for me.

One thing I will not have going for me is internet access *gasp*. My mom is firmly entrenched in a much earlier century where things like computers don't exist. I still have to program her VCR--which I'm amazed doesn't have a remote with a super long cord connected to it like the very first one we owned.

I'll see you in a couple weeks, wish me luck!

Those Evil Acronyms.

To save you from pronouncing some long ass names for illnesses, the medical industry has graced us with a plethora of acronyms for the cold of the month. This week: RSV--that would be respiratory syncytial virus for those of you who enjoy tongue twisting. My poor baby girl was tested this morning after I had to suction her throat out with the snot sucker so that she could breathe, yeah, that was fun. Even more fun was the visit to the ped's office.

It started out all well and good, we arrived, GB 'helped' me carry the carseat and we signed in. Then as I was sitting GB down and ridding myself of the coats, diaper bag and purse, I accidentally bopped him in the head. It was so NOT hard, but this opened the doorway to the beast within.

At first, he just pouted in the chair, responding, "No!" to various suggestions, but when they called our name to go back he refused to move. OK, I have a carseat, two coats, a diaper bag, a purse and a stubborn 27lbs of stinkiness. The PA was kind enough to carry the carseat with LG inside, so I just had our belongings and a writhing, pissed off toddler to maneuver through sick children and small hallways. We got to the room, I got LG out of the carseat and onto the table while the PA checked her out. GB actually sat quietly in the chair for a few minutes until he decided he needed a snack. The diaper bag was sadly devoid of snacks which set off another crying jag and refusal of any toys or attempts to comfort/sympathize. I picked him up while the PA was finishing the initial exam, but had to put him down to get LG undressed, changed and weighed. This set off a full blown tantrum. There was kicking and screaming and crying and yelling and much drama. This tantrum did not cease for the entire time we were at the office. There were varying degrees of tantrum, my favorite being when he laid on the floor at my feet while I held LG and the nurse straddled him while trying to get LG's oxygen level. Good times I tell you.

When the ped came in I picked up Capt. FussyBritches so he could examine LG in relative quiet. He said a nurse would come back in to do an RSV swab, and then he would come back when the results were in, could take about ten minutes. Mmmkay, don't mind the cacophony coming from our room, no siree, I most certainly will not be in here choking the ever loving crap out of kid. ;P

Of course there was lots more screaming and flailing and floor sniffing as I had to remove my attention to the child that actually felt like garbage. So long story, well not much longer, GB was a major crank ass stinkpants and my poor baby girl, who actually smiled as they poked and prodded her has a miserable respiratory infection. GB made the trip complete by forcing me to carry him out to the car kicking and screaming, along with 30lbs of baby and carseat, and two bags. My husband called just as this was happening, I said I'll call you back when we're in the car. Then I dialed his number, held the phone into the backseat (in the midst of two very pissed off kids) and said, "just in case you were wondering how my day was." I think he understood.

You have to wonder...

how great your day is going to be when it starts out with one child projectile vomiting on you, and two children wetting their beds. :P

Yesterday was a hectic but fun day. There were 15 kids and 18 adults in our house for DB's party, with a few staying over to watch the Super Bowl. There was cake, there was drinking, there was a pinata, but amazingly no big fights, no big spills and no injuries to report. That's saying something when you squeeze 33 people into one place.

Here are some pics from the party.

DinoBoy turns 4!

It's hard to believe that it was four years ago that I was anxiously awaiting the arrival of my firstborn son. I can still remember that day so well, the nerves, the excitement, the blissful epidural. I remember the somewhat odd and detached feeling I had when they put him on my chest. I wanted so badly to be a teary-eyed joy-filled mom, and I just wasn't. I was sick, I was exhausted and I was weakened from bloodloss. Of course the bonding eventually came, but that didn't make the next ten weeks of nursing hell any easier. We had latch problems, supply problems, jaundice, thrush, rashes, bleeding, and crying, a whole lot of crying. He cried because he was hungry and frustrated, I cried because I was tired and frustrated. Eventually, it got easier and there was less crying, and more smiling. And we grew to dearly love that skinny child with perpetual plumber's crack and a pout that could break the most stoic of men.

A sweet, sensitive and very ACTIVE child emerged from that skinny baby. He loves deeply and wants to be loved by everyone. His feelings are easily hurt, and he's not afraid to show it--a quality I'm sure he will learn to repress all too soon. He never stops going from morning until night. He runs circles around us and can genuinely not be still.

In spite of myself, I often find him beyond frustrating. He suffers for my impatience and need for calm. He gets shafted in favor of his younger siblings and my own needs. He is in essence my guinea pig, subject to my parenting trials and errors. And yet, he is never stingy with a hug or a grin. He continually surprises me with his unselfish nature, and unfailing kindness. He is a truly great kid.

I love you DB, I hope I can eventually be the mother that you so deserve. Happy Birthday.