A Christmas Carol

At the Alabama Shakespeare Festival (perhaps the only reason left to ever enter Montgomery).

 

At intermission, a woman stopped and remarked that she was so pleased to see such a lovely group of children.  It turns out that she and her husband had watched us at the restaurant we'd been to just before the show.  We had been their dinner entertainment.  The children looked her in the eye and said hello.  Ben even got up unprompted and shook her hand, said "I'm pleased to meet you."  What a lovely family she said, and we were so proud.

 

And then during the ride home, the children wouldn't stop cackling at themselves while they made jokes about body functions.

 

(Sigh)

 

The Cupcake Incident

Pre-school cupcake parties.

I have opinions layering on opinions about birthday parties for toddlers/pre-schoolers and invitation lists and organized parties and then the pre-school cupcakes and goodie bags that you are nearly obligated to turn up with on your child's birthday. All that alone, there is this:

as I do the rounds before finding the children last night, picking up homework, seeing if everyone has had a green day or a red day, checking boxes for information sheets, I run across a single cupcake in Nicholas' box.

Phooey.

Time for a quick life lesson.

Here we go.

The maniacs spot me and come running. All eyes, except Ben's, are on the cupcake in my hand. Then I hand it to Nicholas, and the girls have a fit, and I explain the situation to the girls matter of factly. Alida doesn't let it go and falls in a heap. She cries the entire way out of the center; she cries getting into the car; she cries as we drive off.

After a short conversation where Nicholas lets me know the girls are upset because they didn't get to sit in the front seat and Ben corrects him to let him know that, in fact, Alida is crying because she wants a cupcake, this follows:

"I know. I'll split it in half and share it with you Alida!"

"Can I have some brother?" asks Elaine.

"Sure. I KNOW! We'll cut it in four halfs."

(I started the math lesson but decided to shut my mouth and let this play out.)

"But, Ben already had a cupcake so he doesn't get any," Nicholas declares.

"That's right," agrees Ben.

"Okay sisters but after dinner and mommy will cut it with the knife."

And do you know, that's exactly how it played out.

It Wouldn't Be An Outing Without a Hitch

Friday: Load kids in minivan. Drive to Nashville. Wrestle them to bed in hotel.

Saturday: Get on hotel shuttle. Go to airport. Fly to Kansas City. Drive with grandparents to Nebraska.

Sunday: Take Annual Awful Easter Picture

Tuesday: Drive back to KC. Get on plane and fly to Nashville. Get in car. Wait we can't get in the car, the battery is dead...

Believe it or not, I was starting to think we wouldn't have any interesting stories to tell because they did such an incredible job as travelers. The loudest they got on the airplane was when they started into hysterical fits of laughter when we landed.

We got the battery in the car fixed; I'm fixing the battery in the camera now...

This Makes It Worthwhile

I give Benjamin a kiss.

He says: "Oh, sweetie!"

I give him another kiss.

He says: "Oh, beautiful!"

I give him another kiss.

"Oh, gorgeous!!"

I could have kept that up all evening long. The balm to my long days.

Where do they learn this stuff?

Presenting

Wonder

Joy

and Happiness

And In The Last Hour Of The Last Day Of The Weekend

Nicholas didn't whine.

Benjamin asked to go to bed before Batman was over.

Elaine ate a second dinner.

Alida only washed her hands once.

And they nearly let me get a good picture of all of them together.

It May Appear As If

We are all disinterested in each other except to fight sometimes.

But we have our moments.

The Saturday Outing: Spring Fever

I love it when training gets canceled and daddy gets to hang out with us.

I think the kids do too.

THAT Went Better Than Expected

Here we are waiting for flu shots.

Here's how it went:

Nurse walked in.

Ben volunteered and got his shot.

Nicholas got his shot.

Alida got her shot.

Elaine got her shot.

We all cried a couple of tears and moved on. We were smiling and entertaining by the time we walked out the door.

Chewing on the sticker from the nurse makes it feel better.

Inspecting the Band-Aide for proper application.

And, is that smiling for the camera on the way out of the parking lot?

I Don't Like Ike

And he better not come around here before Patric gets back because Ike will have a fight on his hands.

In other news of the cutest-boys-in-the-world, we had a camera free moment last night, although I thought about grabbing it. Up there they are feeding their babies and getting them ready for bed. But last night when I went up to tell little boys to calm down and be quiet in bed, I found the little guys having a chorus of The Itsy Bitsy Spider all on their own with hand gestures and all by the light of their glow turtles. It was too cute not to join in and then we sang The Wheels On The Bus to a generous round of applause. Benjamin didn't even tell me to stop singing. Sometimes you just have to risk waking up the girls.

Elaine

If there is pink available, you wear it in order to keep you distinct from your sister at a glance.

But, I have to tell you there are other ways I know you are Elaine. One of those is that sweet smile. It peeks out and oozes little girl to me, which is why you were designated pink baby. When you are a teenager, I guess you will wear all black, but for now, you are my pink baby.

And then there is the way that you are content. You are content to explore on your own. You are content to contend with your sister. You are content to give me a hug. It is rare to see you fuss.

But even though you aren't fussing, I've watched you. I've watched you snatch things you want and collect things all to your own like your brother Nicholas. I've watched you assert yourself already. And I find it charming that you can be so sneaky. One day, I don't guess I'll find that so charming, but right now it makes me smile and cheer you on a little.

You love peek-a-boo, which is always a good way to make sure who you are when I have both you girls in the bathtub. You'll bury your head way down to the water, and when I ask where Elaine went, you come up with that smile. That smile that will melt hearts one day.

Oh what adventures we will have Elaine.

These People

Who are ALWAYS a wrong breeze away from this:

Went and surprised us yesterday.

"Should we go out to eat?"
"Really? Um, maybe."
"We could try. We can always leave."
"Yeah, okay."
"Where should we go?"
"We only have two restaurants we go to."
"Yeah, let's get a steak."

We walk in pushing the double stroller, discussing what a poor choice that was, ask for a table for six--two highchairs, two booster chairs please. And then we shuffle off to the side to wait because we imagine it may take a minute to get that together, and we need to coordinate getting this stroller out of here. Boys are seated. One girl is given to me, and Patric begins to take the other girl in the stroller back to the car to put it away while we wait. But then they call us.

Huh?

We get the same table every single time we come here. It is in the back; it is by the wait station; and the couple of booths that they don't fill so that their staff can sit down are right there. This is fine with us. We do really try to minimize the attention we get when we're out. So when we trooped off to the table they called us for through all of the people to get to the back of the restaurant, Patric abandoned the stroller in the middle of the room thinking he would plop down a girl and run back out. Except here we were with a table set up for six adult people, no booster seats and no highchairs. He begins getting a little steamy. So the six of us stood around the table staring at it. Our black-clad hostess asks did we need a high chair? Um, yeah, we said...oh never mind. So we stood in the middle of the restaurant waiting. One highchair is presented and two booster seats. They can't find the other highchair. Three children are seated, and I stand with a girl. Patric takes off with the stroller. A few musical chairs, an unending wait, a stroller shuffled back off to the car, and we're seated.

Here's the fun part. We had a great meal. The children ate. We ate. We even had half a conversation. No one screamed. The waitress wasn't dripping with hatred. No one threw anything on the floor or spilled any cups. No dishes were broken. Nicholas danced a little in his chair. The ladies smiled. It was nice. And at the end of the meal, a woman approached us and said she just wanted us to know that she had really enjoyed her meal and that she was very impressed with how organized we were. Another woman leaned over and told me that I have beautiful children.

Yes. Yes we do have beautiful children.

Just in theh Neighborhood

One more National Guard Weekend down. This one without much drama really. Sunday evening, we were lucky to get a too-quick visit from grandma and grandpa and great uncle and great aunt. They arrived during naptime after making a weekend trip to the Patton museum in Ft. Knox, KY. This was a special trip to the museum because my unlce George served under Patton during WWII and has so many stories to share. They were in the neighborhood, so decided to drop by (you know because 350 miles is "in the neighborhood"). The children went down like dominos on Sunday afternoon for naps, and that is exactly how they came up from naps as well. First Elaine who welcomed everyone with a bit of stranger anxiety. Then Alida who had an all out fit of stranger anxiety. Down comes Nicholas, who is quite at home with a house full of people to love and read to him, and aunt Dolorys was kind enough to read the same book over and over. Then Benjamin, who did not want to get up from his late nap in the first place. The little guy was beside himself tired and angry with mom for getting him up. After a quick assessment of the situation, he ran straight to uncle George and buried his head in his shoulder; not wanting to be left out, Nicholas climbed up and snuggled in. And there they sat for a good half an hour. I get 2 minutes to snuggle on a good day, sheesh.

Lights! Camera! Benjamin! Yohoo! Benjamin?

Benjamin and I went to get our hair cut together on Saturday. He walked right in like he owned the place, as usual. And he sat right down when Audra put him in the chair.
And did not move. A muscle. The entire time.
Audra said she has grown men who do not behave as well as he did and he can come back any time. After, he played quietly on the floor while my hair was washed, cut and dried. One tiny glimpse into what it might be like to have one child.

What I Did Over Christmas Vacation

I've got nothing today. We're exhausted. We're getting over colds. We're trying to re-figure out sleeping through the night. We're nearly all back on track after the routine shake ups of the holidays. And we are beginning to look toward the end of winter and beginning of Spring, which isn't too far off in our Southern home.
And just for today, I'd like to remember that we smiled a few times through the whole thing called the holidays.

THINGS TOO AGGRAVATING TO GRAB THE CAMERA DURING: The Great Escape 2007

So it should have looked something like this. As the holiday wound down and the final guests spent their last evening wondering at all the chaos in the Stuber house, we had a touching evening of "night, night" and "luv you" and hugs and smiles and fond farewells as family bid the boys a good night. The ladies had already been tucked quietly away, storing their energy up for the 2:30 wake-up.And Patric took the boys tromping upstairs and checked diapers and put them in bed, and all was quiet. We swelled with pride as we were complimented on our bedtime routine. "Do they really just go to bed that easy?" Of course, we said. We have great kids. And as part of the great kid routine, we leave the light on after putting them in their cribs so they can flip through their books and chatter for a few minutes. Then we go in and tuck them in like burritos with their blankets and turn off the light. Except sometimes, we forget to go back and turn off the light.So some time later, there is a thump and we shake our heads because they are throwing books again, and we remember that they've been left with the light on for a little longer than usual. Patric goes up for burrito duty. And instead of winding-down-boys-ready-for-slumber, he finds Mr. Nicholas OUT OF HIS CRIB taking all of the parts for the crib-to-toddler-bed-conversion, which we've nicely tucked away under Ben's crib, and he's handing them to Ben--slats, packages of bolts, instructions. When he sees daddy, he runs toward him handing him various pieces and yelling "tank you, tank you," which is toddler for "please don't murder me."And our pride deflated, and he was tucked back in his crib. And ever since we are skeptical that thumps are not books but that thumps are boys making the great escape. We must now seriously consider toddler beds, and we so very much don't want to go to toddler beds.

The Library, Four Kids, and Iraq

We don't really agree with it, but apparently it is customary to allow Jenny to have a day off here and there. We would tie her down and keep her all to ourselves if we didn't think the kids liked her so much that they would probably free her. Anyway, some days, Jenny gets to take the day off.
And it is Patric's turn at duty because mommy has meetings and no time off at work because she's been birthing babies for the last two years. And then you remember that daddy also has a speaking engagement at a middle school to talk about Iraq (no weapons or talk about war please...)
And the school fills the library up with kids to hear daddy talk about war without talking about war.
And all you can do is take the little ones along and say many prayers and pack many Oreos for the trip. And, you know what? We have pretty charming and well behaved kids when other people are around! No incidents to speak of, and Benjamin, of course, walked right in like he owned the place. The ladies were swept up by many teachers. And Nicholas? Well Nicholas, I dare say you contained your naturally overflowing energy very well son.

If It Weren't For This Overworked Camera

There would be no proof for Uncle Brian and Aunt Lori that these kids aren't perfect since they acted like angels all weekend.
That up there is the meal after Brian and Lori left where we got back to normal.

This is how National Guard weekends should be.
This time: Four children, one day, and at most all times at least three adults. And people telling mom to sleep in while breakfast is cooked and children diapered is not a bad thing either.
We went to the park to celebrate the first day of December and dad's birthday (in his honor really since he was working), and that fleece was probably a bit too warm.
Even the ladies got some fresh air.The boys were gifted new soccer and footballs.We fed babies in the wet yard near dark and Aunt Lori graciously just plopped down and pitched in.And despite Brian's organizational skills, we were still unable to get a group photo with anyone looking at the camera.