Family Ties

When you marry someone, unless that person is an orphan with no siblings, you don't marry just that person. You also marry his entire family. Your children share blood with their children. Some of the same quirks you see in your kids were inherited from them. It's a tie that can't be broken.

I started dating Mr. MOTH in January of 1999. By August, when his housing situation changed drastically (he sold both the house that he owned and his parents' old home where he was living while renovating - within a two week span!) I knew that the apartment I was helping him choose would be where we would be living together very soon. I was completely in love with him and the feeling was mutual.
*********
By December of '99 I had met nearly all of his family (not his brother, yet) but, with the exception of his mom and youngest sister, I didn't really know them very well.

My husband had an aunt who was born with Down's Syndrome (Jean) and by this time she was living in a care facility not too far from where he lived. During that holiday season, we made plans to visit her along with his mom and three of his sisters*. To put it mildly, I was nervous. I haven't had much exposure to mentally challenged individuals and I didn't know what to expect. We arrived shortly after lunchtime and the nurses went to get her from her room to bring her into the living area. She was probably around 50 years old at the time (which, if you know anything about Down's Syndrome is amazing. The life expectancy is around 35?). She looked and acted pretty much as I expected. The unexpected part came from the other women in my husband's life. I have never seen such pure love, devotion, and unadulterated attention from anyone in my life. They were all immediately surrounding her wheelchair, kneeling down, stroking her hair and her skin like you would a small child, speaking in soothing tones and asking her questions. I hung back with Mr. MOTH, not quite sure what to do, but completely impressed and moved by what I was seeing.
That was the day I fell in love with his family.
******
All 4 of my sisters-in-law are coming to our house on Saturday. When I start to stress or freak out or anticipate the drama that inevitably comes when you have that many women together, I pull that image from the back of my mind. They're family. OUR family. I'm looking forward to seeing them and having my children reconnect with their family.

*If you know his family, his oldest sister "D" was not there. Just sayin'.

It Was A Par-Tay!

The Birthday Girl: The loot:I survived! She had a great time! The food was decent and I think everyone had a good time. I was pleased with everything except the cake - which I hated. It tasted fine but it was UG-LEE! At least they spelled her name right...

Since I'm sure you're all just dying to know what we had to eat, I'll share my recipes:

Zesty Slow Cooker Chicken Barbecue:

6 frozen skinless, boneless chicken breast halves
¼ cup brown sugar
1 bottle barbeque sauce
2 TBSP Worcestershire sauce
½ cup Italian salad dressing
1 tsp liquid smoke

Place chicken in slow cooker. In a bowl, combine the remaining ingredients and pour over chicken. Cover and cook 3-4 hours on High, 6-8 hours on Low. Shred chicken, return to pot and cook until heated through, about half an hour. Serve on buns.

Cold Seafood Stuffed Shells:
1 pkg jumbo shells
2 cans (7oz ea) crabmeat, drained
2 cans (6 oz ea) tiny shrimp, drained
4 – 8 oz Swiss cheese, finely shredded
½ cup Mayonnaise
2 TBSP finely chopped pimento (optional)
2 TBSP finely chopped onion

Cook shells until al dente. Rinse with cold water; invert on paper towels to drain. Combine all other ingredients in medium bowl. If mixture seems too dry, add more mayo. Spoon into cooled shells. Cover and refrigerate until chilled.

We also had a deli tray, chips, salsa dip (1 cup salsa; 1 8oz pkg cream cheese) with tortilla chips, potato salad (Thanks, Mom!), cake, more cake, ice cream, and punch. Simple yet satisfying. And for those of you who suggested it, the fruit pizza is on my menu for the get together that we're having with my husband's family over Memorial Day weekend.

Before:

After:
And, as an added bonus, she woke up from her nap this morning COMPLETELY COVERED IN HIVES!! I just gave her a dose of Benadryl and scheduled an appointment with our allergist (how sad is it that we have an allergist?).

And then...

Never, ever even THINK that things can't get worse.

Tomorrow is the party. There will be significantly less people than I thought (which is good, I suppose). Decorations are pink and yellow (her favorite color and mine together). The food is bought/ordered/but not made.

All 4 kids have horrific head colds.

They are flushing the hydrants out here in the country. Our water is...not clear.

I have slept about 5 hours. In the last 3 days. Total.

See you on Sunday!

The House Looks Good, BUT...

Folks, I have a birthday bash scheduled for 2PM on Saturday. So far, I have cleaned the house from top to bottom (a result of having it appraised this evening) and ordered the cake. That's it. No gift. No decorations. No menu. OH! I also made her tutu and "1" t-shirt with bling. But I'm starting to FREAK. OUT. I don't know what to serve. I don't even have a stinkin' theme (you know, aside from the whole "1" thing).

And then there's my dad. Little One was born on his birthday. Poor thing. Because apparently, he thinks this is "their" party. I'm hoping he's just kidding, because if I hear him tell her that they're going to be singing, "Happy Birthday to US! Happy Birthday to US!" one. more. time. I'm going to take a spork to him! Saturday is all about HER. Yes, I'm planning to make him one of our world famous red cakes (provided no one else gets sick), but other than that, she's my focus. The invitations? They read "come to my party!" with HER picture on them. The invitees? HER family. Really, I don't think my husband's family is coming to celebrate my father (although most of them can't/won't come anyhow). Dad? Grow up a bit and let her have her day, please. You got to have the day all to yourself for 58 years already!

**Note: This is Baby Girl's tutu. Little One's is a pink lemonade theme (fuschia, pink, and yellow). And yes, she's walking. Everywhere. Also? Yes. They have the same waist size.

Mother's Day

Holy Cow! I've got 4 kids! This first year as a mother of four has been about one word for me: Survive. I just wanted to survive the sleepless nights (still going!) and the hours of car pool spent with a screaming baby and the potty training (easy peasy, thank you Baby Girl!) and the colds and the flu and the mess and the work and the constant, "Mommy! I need you, NOW!" And I did. Thank you, my babies, for making it so, so worth it. I love you all. Equally. But differently. Thanks.

And to my husband: Thanks for making it easy (er) than it could have been. I wouldn't have survived without you.

And to my mom: Thanks for making it easy (er) than it could have been. I wouldn't have survived without you. Happy Mother's Day!

Youngest Boy's Surgery Story

Youngest Boy’s surgery was way less traumatic for him than it was for me. He heard the words “play room” and that was his focus THE ENTIRE TIME. Up until we got there, his only concern was that, “I don’t like to go to sleep during the day.” No kidding.
I knew going in that this was a “minor” procedure, even though they had added the adenoidectomy but it was still in my head that they were going to be giving him anesthesia (“magic air”). The anesthesiologist was a very nice Russian man who spoke with an accent that Youngest Boy couldn’t quite understand (He understood the word “Transformers”, though). They walked us through every thing that was going to happen, although, looking back, they never really gave me any kind of “warning” about the whole thing (like they do when a grown-up goes through a procedure, mentioning the word “death” more than once). I’m sure I signed something saying they had, but I know they didn’t.

They put him in a hospital gown:
And he got to keep his own pants on. They didn’t put the IV in until he was asleep and I stayed with him until he closed his eyes (I had to wear an oversuit thingy and a shower cap). I went to the café and tried to choke down some food since I had only eaten a bowl of chicken noodle soup in over 24 hours. Within 20 minutes I had eaten, called home and worked myself into a small panic and back down again. I walked into the waiting room, pulled out my book and before I could even sit down Dr. Seuss was looking for me to discuss how it had gone! Naturally, everything was fine. Ears were a piece of cake. The adenoids were so large that they had even created scar tissue around one of the Eustachian tubes. That convinced both of us that the whole thing WAS absolutely necessary. I was relieved it was over but anxious to see my son. Typically, the longer they sleep the better so when the nurse came to get me less than 5 minutes later I knew I was in trouble. He thought I was gone because I wasn’t there when he woke up like we thought I would be. Poor guy! All in all, I’m glad we went through it. I’m hoping it will alleviate his symptoms (snoring, ear infections) and I think it is much better that he did this when he’s 5 than when he’s 15. I am so, so proud of how he handled the whole thing and frankly, I’m proud that I handled it all by myself even though I would much rather have had my husband with me. I was really frustrated that everyone was so sick. I really wanted to be able to focus just on him and instead I barely focused on him. I was so busy cleaning up and taking care of everyone that he was just another person on my list. I almost always feel like a triage nurse: Those in the most need get taken care of first. I’m constantly assessing what NEEDS to be done versus what SHOULD be done versus what would be NICE to do. In the end, I guess that’s what every mother of more than one child has to do when they all need something at once. When you find yourself saying things like, “Please! Try to throw up INTO the garbage can and I’ll be with you as soon as I can!!” you may start to question your ability to handle all of this. I certainly did/do.

Mama Said There'd Be Days (Weeks) Like This!

**Warning!! Bodily Fluids of ALL Types Ahead!! Warning!!**

This post will most likely be long and while not exactly what I would call “boring”, it might not be all that interesting. Mostly, it’s a reminder for me of how difficult life with this many small children can be. As my sister-in-law always tells me, the bigger the kids, the bigger the problems…

Last week, Youngest Boy came down with a stomach virus…in the middle of the night. This means that around 12AM, I was cleaning puke off of damn near everything in his room. In the dark. While trying not to wake anyone else up. Because I can’t stand the smell of vomit (and really, who can?) I washed what I thought was all of the bedding that had been sprayed immediately. This meant that I was awake until the washer turned off at 1AM because I just knew that it would wake one of the girls. It didn’t. Lesson learned. I consider it a personal victory that when my husband was shocked to learn of this the next morning that I didn’t deck him…

I cleaned every surface with cleaner and then Lysoled everything. EVERYTHING! I kept finding little spots that I had missed in his room, but by the end of the weekend, after we had cleaned the carpet, the smell had finally dissipated and I was patting myself on the back for my stellar cleaning abilities because no one else had gotten sick.

Tuesday morning I went shopping for some treats for Youngest Boy because he was scheduled to have surgery on Thursday morning. I left the bags in the space shuttle when I took the stuff inside. As I was preparing snacks for the road trip to pick Oldest Boy up from school, I started to feel “not quite right” (in Baby Girl’s words). I pushed through, knowing that I didn’t have a choice. As I’m driving down the Interstate I had to pull over, grab the shopping bag, and throw up (sorry for the visual). This happened several times on the trip down/back. And then I got home and barely made it out of the van before I threw up in the garbage can there. A lot. My poor kids thought I was dying, I think!

But, I’m a mom. And I don’t get sick time. I had to continue to do what I would normally do all while stopping every twenty minutes or so to puke. Nice. I made dinner. I helped with homework. And I cleaned. I was literally being sick in one toilet while I had cleaner in the other. I so did not want the others to catch it. But, alas, there’s not much you can do…

Wednesday morning, still feeling like shit, I had to get up earlier than normal so that I could take Oldest Boy to school so that my husband could leave early for work – he had a haircut scheduled for Wednesday evening. Then I had to hurry home, drop off the youngest 3 with my mom, and drive an hour to an appointment with my surgeon (did I mention I have a hernia? Well, I do.) Another hour drive home where I took a nap with Little One (Thank you, Mom!). Feeling a little better, I went back down to pick up Oldest Boy. If you’re keeping track, that’s four hours on the road.

After I came home, I needed to start preparing for the next day – Youngest Boy’s surgery. Mr. MOTH had that day off so that he could come with us, but I had to have everything ready for the other kids so that my mom and aunt would be able to care for them with minimal fuss. Knowing I would have to get up before 6AM, I tried to go to bed early but Little One didn’t really think this was necessary. At 10PM she was still awake when Mr. MOTH came upstairs. We had to check out what he was doing (her idea) and on the way past Baby Girl’s room I heard, uh, splashing. I threw the baby to daddy (figuratively, of course) and went in with her. Is there anything more pathetic than a 3-year-old throwing up for the first time that she can remember? She had no idea what was happening. I did. I cleaned her up, stripped the crib, and started the laundry. And then lather, rinse, repeat until around 11:30. She slept on the floor of her room on a comforter with her head next to a garbage can. I still feel awful for her when I think of it.

Finally, I went to bed only to wake up around 12:30 with the feeling that something “wasn’t quite right”. Not me. Mr. MOTH. He’s never thrown up in all of the years we’ve been together, not even during the Great Steak House Incident of 2004 (don’t ask). He was being sick. Which meant that he was out of commission for the next two days. {SIGH} I had to handle the surgery and the aftermath alone. Thank God for my mom and aunt because I would have been screwed without them.

Youngest Boy’s surgery went very well and he did fantastic! I’ll post about that separately (with photos because I’m neurotic).

Returned Youngest Boy to our house and turned around and went to pick Oldest Boy up from school and went grocery shopping. Did I mention it takes about 4 days before your stomach doesn’t hurt any more? This is Day 2 for me. While shopping he said, “Mommy, my belly hurts…” %$#@!!!

And lather, rinse, repeat. I’ll just say this: You think you’re prepared. You have all of your bases covered. I had cans to catch whatever came out and towels underneath everything…but only on one side of his bed. Can you guess which side he got sick on? Of course. I went in my bathroom and bawled. Pretty soon, he knocked on the door, threw up on my bathroom floor and then LAID DOWN IN IT. Never, ever say that it can’t get any worse. Because it can. %$#@&

Silver Linings:
Youngest Boy had the flu BEFORE his surgery and hopefully won’t get it again.
We’re saving a lot on groceries because no one wants to eat.
At least I had those shopping bags in the space shuttle.
Because of all of the other stuff going on, I barely had time to worry as much as I normally would have about the surgery.
I will NEVER cancel MY hair appointment again. Ever.

How was your week?