Sing. Sing a song. Sing out loud. Sing out strong.

Tonight with the little one's in bed I took a rather grown up and unpleasant phone call outside in the driveway. Well, the grown up part is a little debatable... but none the less... when I returned to the house my 7 and 9 year old were sitting in the living room with the TV off and do you know what they were doing? Singing. Just sitting there kind of harmonizing. I stood in the kitchen for a few minutes listening to them talking about the tea they were drinking and singing.

I guess it's moments like that that mean a lot. There's a peacefulness. A hope about their happiness. I would tell you now that although my life is a thousand times busier than it was a year ago, I couldn't be happier. I think as adults we're conditioned to roll through the trials awaiting the glimpses of happiness that appear regularly to let us know it's ok to take a breath... The rest is a mixture of heartbreak, disappointment, challenges and bullshit. That combined with regular doses of mis-interpretation and political maneuvering can make for a bleak existence. Witnessing the singing, or a random act of kindness from the children is renewing on even the toughest of days.

As parents it's easy to overlook such a thing. Or a picture they drew in school. A contest they won. An "A" they got. Even the simple gratitude shown to me by the 4 year old today... she thanked me for calming her down. It was genuine and sincere and I loved how beautiful it was. Getting too wrapped up in the noise of life drowns out the songs. Gotta keep listening for 'em.

chiggity check yoself...

No one ever said parenting was going to be easy. There are those who play up the gratifying elements as you thoughtfully pat your swollen belly with the first one... but after that, there are no punches to be pulled. It's hard hard work.

Parents of blended families have the added challenge of co-parenting with often times less than agreeable non-costodial parents. There are the basic conditions... when to pierce your daughter's ears, soccer season schedules, the importance of homework completion... yearly physicals... and then there are the more difficult issues... discipline, PG-13 movies, bedtimes, what constitutes an appropriate babysitter, an acceptable period of time before introducing the latest girlfriend. Either way, it gets tricker... especially when there is a vast moral difference between you and your ex. Even with the loving support of a dedicated partner the conflicts with the non-costodial parents can be draining. In our case, the moral compass of both the exes points almost 180 degrees opposite our own.

So you stand up for morality and goodness and honesty. All the while trying not to express to your growing children that one of their parents is a stark raving sociopath who directs their energy solely to the gain and benefit of themselves alone. (*counts slowly backwards from 10)...And you pray. Pray that they pick up the good that they can from their brief exchanges every other weekend. Pray that they have an ounce of the common sense you're sure they must have inherited from you... and that the stable home you work so tirelessly to provide wins out.

My money's on the good triumphing over immorality... I've gotta make that bet.

Peace and Quiet

Peace and Quiet. Two of my oldest and dearest friends have been long absent over the past year... At least in the middle of the afternoon. The older ones are at school, the toddler at pre-school, the baby napping, and the dogs tired out from a walk. So many choices to make... Do I nap? Do I blog? Do I clean? Do I poop alone? Or do I just sit and enjoy the brief and fleeting moment that is the sanity of this sunny, springy Monday. Well, for those of you who know me... you know I'm gonna do it all.

blue plate special

So today the recipe for the melting pot went a little something like this...

*breathes deep*

Coffee brews around 6:15am... send text to supervisor to insure appropriate payment for part time job. Find out later supervisor uses cell phone as alarm clock and was awoken by said text... mental cringe.

Anyway, coffee: check. Baby awoke screaming an hour prior to the coffee brewing, so there was an hour or so to fade in and out of the news and cuddle with the dogs before the elder children tumbled out of their rooms...

Kix, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Instant Breakfast, blueberries, strawberries and baby cereal mixed with yogurt... kitchen cleanup #1. Check. Phone calls to potential customers made from the sanctity of my 10 year old Honda, a.k.a. "office". Check.

Invite from friends to lunch at the best taco joint in town... ummm... YES PLEASE. But first... meatball making with the girls... Pork, Beef, roasted garlic, chives, parmesan, and little hands to do the mushing and rolling... perfect. I'm not advocating child labor, but they do make perfect meatballs. That, and cooking with the children is literally one of my favorite things on earth to do.... Lunch for children, and kitchen cleanup #2... check.

Shower prior to lunch with friends, sadly no... meatballs took longer than expected... teeth, blush, and new lipgloss almost make it look like I did though... Check.

Put baby down, and beg children to get dressed and go outside PUH-lease! It's 75 degrees! Check.

Then organizing weekend last minute charity fundraiser, about a dozen Capri Suns, deli sandwiches, work, and soccer practices later, there's baths, showers, a movie with the older ones... check.

And finally, a bottle of Turn Me Red, snuggle time with the man...whom, by the way, this day would not have been possible without... and at long last, a shower...

And it's only 12:15am the next day...

A long recipe? Yup. A happy family? Yup. Doin it all again in 6 more hours? You can bet on it.

the pendulum always swings back...

Yesterday was a day for taking stock... and while I typically try to employ some humor in these posts, I'm not sure if it fits. In the morning after getting the school-aged children up and out the door I drove to visit my very new baby cousin... who is beautiful in every way. Not only was he graced with an indescribably lovely baby cry in the key of C, he is all kinds of beautiful born to beautiful parents who couldn't be prouder. He will don carefully chosen clothing to leave the hospital in his expertly installed car seat where a warm stable home awaits filled with love and acceptance. I cried on the way home. I cried for his blessings... and for my own. I hope his future is filled with all the grace and love his brand new life deserves.

I went to work this same afternoon in a very different environment. I was awaiting dismissal and listening to a sweet little boy talking to his teacher and thinking on that sweetness when he casually mentions this sentence as if he's discussing weekend plans:

9 year old: "We're moving."

teacher: "You are?"

9 year old: "My Dad and I live with my Grandma and the house is going into foreclosure so we can't stay."

teacher: "Oh."

That was the exchange. So matter of fact. I had to step into the classroom because I felt like I got punched in the stomach. The vagary of it all. The fact that a nine year old was aware of "foreclosure"... the fact that the teacher's reaction was the same as it might have been when he heard the lunch specials earlier that day... it just floored me.

I guess it was just a wake up call. That everyone has their problems... and that I can't save them all. I wondered if I would ever develop that type of callous the teacher seemed to show... or if that was even what I witnessed... maybe it was just the well crafted response of a bleeding heart like mine. Maybe I'll have a response like that someday, too.

Bah... I'm not a judge of anything... except for who actually started the fight in the bathroom last night while brushing their teeth. Or who was actually playing with the DSi first. I should be so privileged.

So I'll just send a silent message that stability finds that family and all the other ones like that and worse... and try to roll through my own with a little more grace and candor... at least until the next fight breaks out...

are we there yet???

By it's very definition a long day suggests a period of time longer even more tedious than the descriptor initially expected. I used to use this term loosely referencing a trying eight hour day at the office including a few Neanderthals and egos the size of mountains... or maybe a family gathering involving forced smiles and wishful suggestions of places for one's head under my breath...

This was before the blending... before the drop-offs and errands, and pick-ups and cookie baking. Before the snacks in the car, and gearing 3 kids up for soccer simultaneously while dragging a toddler along. My eldest literally went up 3 shoe sizes since fall soccer. This means men's 9 at 9 years old. This quickly translated to $75 cleats in lieu of the $20 kid's cleats... but don't worry...we still bought two of those... in pink. Then there's shin guards and socks and shorts and slides and Underarmor...

Oh, then another store for the twin's birthday presents, Easter outfits and more shoes... the metallic and gem covered dress up kind I am certain will initiate a barrage of "my feet hurt" comments upon first wear. Dammit if they aren't adorable though. I'd wear em. Speaking of which, what the hell am I going to wear for Easter? My wardrobe leans heavily from business casual to grocery store and gym worthy... I'm sure there's something black though... maybe it will pass as chic... probably not.

Then dash to soccer practice, back home to let the old dog and puppy out... and yes, there was Mc Donald's in the car... Now I've got a pile of laundry, a dirty kitchen floor, and a man due home in 30 minutes. How can I type this blog? Multitasking in my favorite spot. The reason I was recently gifted a new laptop... so I could close the door to the bathroom and be alone for 20 minutes... which by the way are almost up.

Some day off, huh? Tomorrow will most certainly hold a brighter itinerary... soccer practice for the littler one, birthday party for the twins, birthday dinner for my grandma, laundry, puppy poop, baby poop, temper tantrums, more eating in the car... I've got big hopes for a shower... maybe, if I could find a waterproof case for my Macbook, I could even get another blog written... hummm....

and then there were two..

This morning my two natural born children went to spend the night with their dad, my man on his second 16 hour shift day left just me and the babies... this guarantees a few things...

First, a shower. For me, and me alone... hot... with shaving and exfoliating, and conditioning resulting in full make-up and killer hair... you know, the kind that looks like you just finished a sexy little romp and a ride in a convertible... (not that I can't rock the rolled out of bed and blew out my bangs for effect...).


Cleaned and primped I then get to catch up on blogs and Facebook, spend an hour with my love, a leisurely shopping excursion for random items... new bath toys, bread, and take-out... all the while toting 2 children, one of whom has a 10 word vocabulary.

When they're parceled like that they're individual personalities sparkle... they're agreeable and inquisitive... cuddly and complimentary. It's why I stagger bedtimes during the week. It gives me a half hour or so with each one to just be them... a very dear cousin reminded me of what I believe to be the ultimate goal in small people development... "I exist as I am. That is enough." Mr. Whitman had it right... and I'm still trying... but I hope all my kiddos feel it.


Top it all off with SNL and Diet Coke and I'm a happy girl. Just need it to be 5am so I can get a little snuggle time in before the baby wakes up...