Countdown

I can't wait to go to sleep. Because when I wake up it will be Monday. Monday! Monday!

Thanksgiving: Female Satisfaction

I'm lousy at public displays of appreciation. I cringe through Thanksgiving meals at which I'm forced to be sincere in front of more than.. one person. But I know I have parental responsibilities, so I asked the kids what they were thankful for, wondering what they'd come up with -- and because of my own predisposition to private displays, I asked them one at a time... sans audience.

The always profound Bennett: I'm thankful that Archie Manning was able to make babies. (For those of you who don't know - he sired the famed football player Peyton Manning, and his brother Eli. I can't believe I know this.)

Pensive Efram: I'm thankful for my friends, my family, my health and that I know stuff.

Sweet Frances: I'm thankful for you and Daddy.

Pissed off Fiona: What? I have no idea what you're asking me. Please send that stupid baby back.

Sidney: burp.

And me? I'm thankful for M, and for five kids who make me laugh. And I've saved the biggest laugh of the week for now. (Even funnier then Bennett, examining a pacifier and asking me if that's what real boobs feel like.) Here it is:

M took Bennett to run some errands.. including a trip to the drug store. They walked passed the section with birth control, etc., and Bennett saw a huge sign with, among other things, the words 'FEMALE SATISFACTION' written on it. Under the sign was a coupon dispenser for KY lubricant. Bennett ripped off a coupon and declared, "I think Mummy could use some female satisfaction, don't you?"

I wonder how old he needs to be before I can mortify him with the story.

anatomy of a snow day: Part two (Cookies?)

Still here. Despite the fact that it's not snowing, b/c the roads are icy, and b/c Seattle comes to a grinding icy halt when it snows even a few inches, we're all at home. And b/c tomorrow is Thanksgiving... we're home for the week. Whoopee.

The funny thing is that last week, M and I were brainstorming ways to survive the long TG weekend, and here we are... with a whole week on our hands.

Once again, I am pitted against all the mothers who are thrilled to have their kids home - no lunches, no carpool. But alas, no school either. (These, consequently, are the same mothers who celebrated the end of the school year and were sad to see their kids go back to school at the end of the summer. I'm clearly just made of different, meaner stuff.) At least this time I can assuage my guilt -- I do, after all, have a newborn at home. A newborn who's going through a colicky patch at the moment. A newborn who had us both up for much of the night last night. A newborn who puked all over both of us, and then herself before falling back to sleep. A cute, but messy and disruptive newborn.

We've played in the snow, done a boatload of arts and crafts projects, all the things you're supposed to do on a snow day. The kids have certainly got their money's worth -- so can't they go back to school now. Please?

Someone suggested I bake cookies with the kids. That sounded about fine when I remembered that I hate baking. OK, maybe hate is strong.. but I don't like doing it all that much alone. Why would I enjoy it with Fiona sticking her entire head into a bowl a batter when I'm not looking (banana bread), or Bennett stealing everyone's dough to make a giant cookie in the shape of an Indianapolis Colts horseshoe that will be too big to ever bake (chocolate chip cookies), or Efram crying because Bennett stole his dough and picking up the bowl and hurling it across the kitchen spraying the remaining dough everywhere (same batch)??

But I may have no choice. For someone who doesn't like to bake, doesn't eat wheat, and especially dislikes making cookies that require cutters, I have an insane cookie cutter collection. Somewhere. Looks like I'll be pulling it out today. Wish me luck.

anatomy of a snow day.

Woke up this morning to snow. Light snow, but too much for Bennett to take his daily 6am bike ride/jog with M. Which means one thing: He's going to be bouncing off the walls all morning. True enough, after Fi wakes me up by sitting on my bedside table and knocking off my lamp and the leaning tower of unread books and magazines, I come downstairs to find that he, Efram, and Francie had made snow-cones using a gallon of grape juice. And tracked snow everywhere. And left all the doors to the house open. Happy Monday to me.

Still, school had not been canceled, so they could have done just about anything and I'd still have managed... by staying focused on their imminent departure. At 7.45 I sent them on their merry way with M - who drives them to school.

I spoke to a friend who kept her kids home today b/c (unlike mine) her kids don't ride the bus home, and she had heard that the "snowstorm" we're expecting at midday will make it impossible for her to pick up her kids. (School is in the Capitol Hill neighborhood, which is notoriously icy.) Feel mildly guilty for forcing mine out of the house w/o even a though to their safety. But it quickly passes.

Then the email comes. School closing at noon. Kids headed home on bus and will be here around 12.30. Am not-s0-secretly wishing the bus doesn't make it and they are stranded at school for a while. Given that I almost killed them this morning, I think that they are safer there.

Ok, 3 hours of relative quiet to enjoy. And it really is quite a delight to stare out of the windows and watch snow fall on Lake Washington. When it's snowing this old house is even more charming. And when it's quiet, well.. all the more so.

UPDATE:
On the way home from school the bus broke down. Mind you, this was completely unrelated to the snow -- or so I think. The bus has broken down three times this past week.. so, something is slightly amiss at the bus company. Anyway, I found out and went to meet the bus, which was stuck in the middle of the road about a mile or so away. It's not snowing, but it's cold and this is a Jewish school which means.. Jewish mothers. So everyone is frantically trying to get their kids off the bus, squeeze other kids into their cars, and to contact other parents to let them know what is going on. It's quite a scene.

Still no word on whether there is school tomorrow.

UPDATE:
School tomorrow highly unlikely.

Panic

Light snow today. Seattle powers down entirely when it snows. Two years ago, weeks after Fi was born, we had 2 weeks of snow days.. back to back with winter break. It was hateful. I'm afraid to go to sleep for fear that it will snow during the night and the schools will be closed tomorrow.

I barely made it through the weekend. Can I survive a snow day?

http://www.king5.com/weather

Monday Mornings

Yes, it's raining. Yes, I slept in two hour increments last night. But it's Monday. And 4 of the 5 kids are in school. And the house is quiet. Messy, but quiet. And I have forced myself not to take on any new work until 2011... so for now, I can only think of Peter and the Wolf: "All is quiet, all is quiet."

In other words, weekends are kicking my ass.

Dain Bramage...

I know that women claim to block out the experience of childbirth but I don't. No, I block out the first months of life... or, more specifically, the first months of nights. With each child I am reminded, as if anew, of the staccato sleep patterns of a newborn. My own little ones are always on the small side, so my nights are truly dotted with feedings every 2 hours. While I'm quite good at making it through the night without actually getting out of bed, night after night of interrupted sleep and (here's the rub) having to get out of bed the next morning with the rest of my miniature housemates -- has left my brain addled, foggy, and frankly, malfunctioning.

I suppose calling your children by the wrong name is the right of any parents, especially those with 5 kids... but calling your kids by the names of other people's children (did that), or not being able to access any name at all, and just screaming, "Child!" (that too)... well, that's just embarrassing.

Last week I gave directions from the airport to our house to visiting relatives and sent them on a wild goose chase all over South Seattle before I realized I had confused ALL my lefts and right.

I am perpetually misplacing objects, and will soon be misplacing kids as I did when Fiona was a newborn and I left her in the car for 15 minutes at the park ... before I remembered she was there.

And I stupidly tried wrapping up some loose ends at work when the baby was about a week old. All I can say is thank goodness I'm not a surgeon. (When Fi was a small baby I accidentally mailed a convict a chipotle salmon recipe instead of a legal document.)

I'd be curious to hear any other stories about the often embarrassing results of sleep deprivation...

Yawn.