23May

The Cure

Last week during lunch, Mira began to cry. Andrew and I rushed to her side to discover her woes. All she could sob out was, “I scared… of monstuhs!”

I pulled her into my lap and laid her head on my chest. I felt immediately that she was just a bit too warm. Maybe not feverish, but definitely warmer than normal. Sure enough, the thermometer proved me right and off to bed she went with a small virus.

At some point, it occurred to me to marvel: I knew the way Mira’s skin should feel.

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When newborn babies are placed into their mother’s arms, a marathon year of touching, holding, feeling, eating, snuggling, and attaching begins. I’ve learned to intuitively know my children by the way they feel in my arms. I know that Adam runs warm, Ellen runs cool, and the others fall somewhere in between.

I missed that first year with Mira. We’ve spent hours making up for it, snuggling and cuddling as long as she wanted. I’ve had to learn her skin, her smell, her moods, the way she acts when she’s sick. And it takes time. Those first twelve months of snuggling are so crucial.

So when I tell you that she crawled in my lap and I knew immediately she was sick, it was a victory. Obviously, I’m not glad she was sick. But I was glad I KNEW it. I knew it deep down in my Mommy Bone, the one that knows my children better than anyone else.

Later that night, Andrew snuck upstairs to give a restless, feverish Mira some medicine. He came back down with an awestruck look on his face. “I just gave her medicine. At night. And she didn’t fight me.”

Shortly after we came home, Mira had to have her tonsils removed. I was very, very sick and Andrew had to care for her by himself. Every night, he would creep upstairs to give her medicine and every night she would fight with all her might NOT to take her medicine. She would take it fine for me but if Andrew tried it, somehow, in her pain and sleepiness, she couldn’t make herself trust the Tall Guy with the Tylenol.

So the other night, when he snuck into her room and picked her up, she stiffened at first but then she opened her eyes, stared at him intently, and opened her mouth. She trusted him.

I think a parent’s attachment with a child, adopted or biological, is something that we’re always working on. It ebbs and flows some days. But, OH WHAT A GIFT, to have confirmed that the daughter of my heart has also become the daughter of my skin. To see her trust her daddy in the daytime, in the nighttime, in all of the times.

Mira feels better today and her smile has returned. And that smile of hers? It’ll cure what ails you…

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Thirteen

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He says 13 years isn’t nearly long enough.

But I say it’s long enough to know…

I don’t ever want it to end.

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happy anniversary to us.

*thanks for the pictures, Abbi

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When You Kiss The Canvas

Tonight, as dinner was cooking and I sat down to chat with my boys, Andrew took the girls out in the backyard. Pretty soon, Ellen came trooping back in with a dahlia for me. Next came Willa.

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She’s in her pj’s (backward) at 5 pm because I was trying to get all the fall clothes swapped out this morning before I dressed the girls. However, I was missing a box or two from storage and couldn’t finish the job and, I’m not quite sure how, this meant the girls stayed in pajamas.

That’s pretty much how the whole day had gone: Backwards and half-dressed.

Mira slept in her “spinny dress” last night because she doesn’t like to have it removed from her body.

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I had to go and buy her a fall version of the Spinny Dress just to avoid an every-other-day fit when the Original Spinny Dress needed to be washed.

My last flower came from this guy:

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It was like my own little Rose Parade.

Although lately Andrew and I have been referring to this life we lead like a boxing match. We tag each other in and out as needed. He does the coffee and breakfast routine. Tag.

I do morning school, laundry, and three hours of basic need meeting. Tag. I go to my room to sit and stare like a boxer who is punch drunk.

Andrew starts lunch until I pull it together and jump back in so we can double team the gang for a few minutes. Tag.

And so it goes. This isn’t to imply that our children beat up on us or make unrealistic demands. It’s just what parenting seven kids feels like right now. And I recognize I’m lucky that most days, I can tag in and out a time or two because Andrew is home.

But I’ve been kissing the canvas a lot these days. (Boxing term for “knocked face down.” Seriously. Look it up. I did.)

We’re blessed. This fight is the Good One. But it’s hard. And I’m no prize fighter. I’m just a girl with bloody knuckles and no time to pee.

But we keep at it.

I may lay face down and beg for mercy, but the Mercy comes in the strength to get up and keep going. The Mercy comes when I can’t so He does. And sometimes, Mercy troops in wearing pajamas and carrying a flower the size of her head.

But it comes. Praise God, Mercy comes. He is glorified all the more when I need Him the most. His mercy makes me live and stand up to fight another round.

So I get up off the mat and, after some chocolate and a good night’s sleep, I’ll come out swinging again.

*What’s your life feel like now? I could have waxed poetic for paragraphs more with the boxing analogy, but I had pity on your eyeballs. Plus, I had to look up almost all the boxing terms I was using. So: Analogize your life for me. (It’s a word. I made it.) Paint me a picture…

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Every Day’s a Party Here

Andrew was a Busy Beaver last week and made something like a dozen quarts of ice cream for a little shindig we had at the house on Friday.

Yea. We partied.

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Andrew wore himself SLAP OUT making yummy flavors like salted caramel, cheesecake, and roasted strawberry with buttermilk. Then he made chocolate, blueberry, and strawberry sauces. It was delicious. But more than that, he made me feel special. It was a great birthday.

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I’m glad we have these pictures of the party because the guests were barely out the door before we started tearing the house apart. We’ve decided to try to sell Casa de Vitafam. This is my list for next week:

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So if we’re scarce for the next few days, you know why. Fortunately, my friends gave me LOTS OF CHOCOLATE for my birthday, so I’m stocked up for the coming storm.

And if you know of anyone who needs a lovely, only “slightly” used home, we know of one for sale…

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I Scream, You Scream

Andrew and the kids gave me a present this morning. We were all very excited.

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(Don’t you love Amazon boxes with the smile on them? There’s just something happy about a box at the door, isn’t there?)

Inside was a shiny fancy ice cream maker. The one I have coveted, lo, these many years.

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I set about studying the manual right away. Andrew also provided three new books about ice cream making. I take my milk fat seriously and he knows it.

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Already today we’ve made watermelon lemon sorbet, peanut butter chocolate chip ice cream, and there’s a dark chocolate humming away as I type.

This will do nothing for my dieting hopes. But, trust me, it’s very, very good for morale.

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What was your happy today?

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Arms Up

So Friday…

We saw it on the calendar and realized it would be a logistical nightmare.

Ellen did ballet camp all week and had a recital mid-morning. We had to have her at camp by 9 am sharp. But before that, we discovered that Adam would need another trip to the pediatrician to check out his nasty cough. So we threw out our carefully crafted plan from the night before and Andrew jumped in the car to speed Ellen to church on time and Adam to the doctor.

We scored a win when Andrew arrived at camp precisely 15 minutes before 9 am. I scored a fail because I forgot to send her with her ballet shoes.

Once Ellen was safely delivered, Andrew took Adam on to the doctor while I sent the baby-sitter pleading texts to stop by Starbucks on her way to the house. Horrors, we were out of coffee. Even worse, I’d checked my email only to discover I was responsible for bringing some sort of finger food to Ellen’s recital.

It’s a good thing my morning protein bar was loaded with chocolate.

Once the baby-sitter arrived (Willa was potty training so she needed to stay close to a bathroom) and Finn was topped off, the twins and I went running, literally, through the grocery store in search of donut holes (at one end of the store) and baby formula (at the other end, as you would expect).

We paid and ran back to the van through the parking lot dropping receipts, bags, and loose change behind us.

As we went careening down the road to find Ellen, I took a deep breath.

I had a sudden desire to just raise both arms overhead and let the roller coaster scream on. I kept my hands at ten and two, I swear. But I felt that heady exhilaration you feel when you know you’re just barely in control and there’s nothing but a single bar keeping you from hurling into outer space.

Andrew called me to report that Adam would need a chest x-ray but the doctor said it was probably just asthma, as we suspected. They went in search of coffee and breakfast before heading to the recital to meet us. Once Andrew and I had exchanged all of the practicalities and had revamped our plan B to make it a plan B.2, we took a breath and started to giggle.

“Are you okay?”

“Yup, I’m okay.”

“I wouldn’t do this with anybody but you.”

“Exactly.”

It was nice to know he was in the seat beside me for this crazy ride. (Keep in mind, while he was doing all his chauffering, he was taking work calls and holding down a job.)

We arrived at the ballet camp in time for me to deliver Ellen’s shoes and then slather my much-neglected toes with nail polish before the recital.

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And then, oh, my baby girl. She just glowed with joy and pride.

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She didn’t care in the slightest if she was dancing the right move or how well she did. Once she realized she was the center of attention, she determined to revel in it all she could. I sat in the front row, faithfully videoing for the grandparents, and tried not to look weepy.

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We all tossed back a few donut holes and lemonade and sprinted for our cars. Andrew went off in search of prescriptions for Adam and I went to hunt down my baby at home for a feeding.

Then everybody swapped places, the babysitter put a sandwich in Adam’s hand, a brownie in mine, and off Adam and I went to the children’s hospital for a chest x-ray.

When we walked out of the x-ray room, I saw the thunderclouds billowing and realized we had to make a run for it. We sprinted through the deluge to the car, where I sat in traffic and storms for half an hour.

As I parked my “roller coaster” in the driveway, the clock on the dashboard read 1 pm.

Seemed impossible we’d done all that racing around in such a short amount of time. But there it was. The two hour nap I took later said I was tired, but it felt… it felt good. It was good stuff. Life stuff. Ordinary. Out of the ordinary. And all the stuff in between.

With a slice of insanity for good measure.

This week looks to be like a repeat of last week: Crazy topped with nuts. I’ve got my Plan A all typed up, double spaced, and printed.

It’ll be out the window by 9 am tomorrow, I guarantee it.

But I’m strapped down. And  I can hear the click, click, click as the coaster climbs that first big hill. My heart races just a little with anticipation. And I feel my arms start to rise…

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Here, There, and Yonder

I have no idea where this week is going but I blinked and it’s Wednesday. Fortunately, I wrote something last week for Simple Homeschool that published today, so I get to pretend that I’m finding time to write.

Although, I guess since I just told you, nobody’s pretending anything any more.

Anyway, my post isn’t really about homeschooling at all (further proof that my editor is a patient woman.) We’ve survived three different weeks of camp for each boy (Ellen’s gymnastics camp is still to come) and I’ve learned a thing or two. Mostly what NOT to do. Go check out my cute little pirate and maybe give me some advice?

Last night, we put the kids in their pj’s and took them to meet Miss Mila Mae and eat celebratory frozen yogurt in her honor. One of the best reasons to keep the kids up ever. And since I’m sending you to other places today, I can’t resist sharing her mama’s  Gotcha Day celebration with you. If that doesn’t put a tear in your eye…

Well, you’re probably getting more sleep than I am.

Speaking of, Finn continues to deny us sleep. But then he throws me a little eye candy and all is forgiven.

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How’s your week going? Anybody getting any uninterrupted shut-eye?

What’s it like?

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Our Little Patriots

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Oh, it’s just been the BEST kind of day. One of those days where you’re together as a family and the stars align and nobody throws up or gets lost and you come home tired and happy.

Yea, that.

After a lazy morning, we dropped Adam off at his pirate camp and treated the rest of the brood to lunch and some fancy popsicles.

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Then we took our slightly diminished gang to the science museum downtown. We had several hours to kill until we picked Adam up, so we  let everybody linger over their favorite activities. Mira didn’t move from the water table for a good half hour.

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Ellen conquered a large fish. (She could teach Jonah a thing or two, I suspect.)

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Mira adored the aquarium at her eye level. She chased the fish back and forth, back and forth.

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Later, Sam and Ian did some engineering together. They were hilarious, talking over each move seriously, building and rearranging. Jenga!

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We rounded a corner on one floor and I heard my husband say in his “protective” tone, “My wife – turn around and go the other way.”

He had spotted the boa constrictor ahead and knew I would rather poke my eyes out than have a snake come into my line of vision.

He is a wise man.

Finn and I took a walk on the other end of the museum while the kids petted a Spawn of Satan. Hence, no pictures of snakes. Just a picture of me and my freaked out baby. Apparently he doesn’t appreciate snakes either.

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I did manage to capture the entire crew enjoying the wind tunnel later.

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Once we were reunited with our little pirate, we headed for home and enjoyed the traffic-free drive. Note to self: July 4th is a great day to head downtown to museums. Not crowded at all!

We let the kids picnic inside in front of a movie.  And then, because they were wiggly, Andrew sent them outside to jump on the trampoline for ten minutes.

Apparently, this tyranny awakened the rebellious patriots in the hearts of our children. They spent their ten minutes writing out their own manifesto of independence on the back porch.

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Happy 4th of July, Everybody! Hope your day was lovely!

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What Pirates Do

Adam is doing a science camp this week. It’s titled “Pirate Science.” I have no idea what this means or entails. So far, they’ve mostly done pirate related crafts.

Whatever, he’s thrilled to be doing a camp of his own.

Yesterday, as Andrew drove him downtown for his very first day of pirate camp Adam said, I can’t WAIT for pirate camp! I hope we get to swashbuckle!

Oh really?

Yep, we’ll need a sword and I hope they have a rope. You can’t swashbuckle without a rope.

Um, why?

Because you have to swing in on a rope and say ‘Arrrrrr’ with your sword for it to be a swashbuckle.

I guess he should know. He IS in pirate camp, after all.

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Good Food

This is not a food blog. I have never pretended to be a fantastic cook. Matter of fact, I’ve cooked next to nothing for the last year or so. But there have been some mighty fine vittles in recent days at the House of Vitafam. Just had to share…

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Andrew’s very favorite thing in the whole world besides ME is blueberry muffins. (He likes the kids pretty well, too.)

Last weekend, he asked if I would try to make some blueberry muffins out of the berries he’d grown right in our backyard. Since they were very special berries, I decided they deserved a very special recipe. I used this one and lemme tell you WHAT - they were some fine tasting muffins.

I don’t even like muffins that much and I ate three.

They were so good, in fact, that Andrew talked sweetly to his blueberry plants, very meticulously picked more blueberries every day, and hoarded each berry carefully so we would have enough to make more muffins this Saturday. Which we did. And we all died dead in a swoon on the floor again. Because they are THAT GOOD.

Anything with lemon sugar on top cannot be bad.

And then there are the meals we sit down to that look like this:

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We’re still working our way through Jamie Oliver’s Meals in Minutes cookbook and while I’m not ready to give you my full review yet, I can tell you that we are very, very happy with the results. This fine meal of stuffed chicken breasts, pan-fried green beans, flavorful flat bread, fruity beverage, and vanilla ice cream floats took us maybe 45 minutes to get on the table.

De-lish, y’all. DEE-LISH.

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It’s been a lovely weekend full of people we love and some yummy vittles. We hope yours was the same.

Happy Father’s Day to our daddies and to all of yours.


*p.s. Apologies for the grimaces on my people’s faces. They were staring into the sun. I did manage to capture Ian mid-sneeze but I figured that was a picture better left unshared.

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