Living the Sweet Life

Let's face it.....some days just really stink. Then there are weeks like I had last week and the entire WEEK stinks. It would be so easy for me to concentrate on the negative aspects. It's especially a draw for me to do that as that had been my m.o. for most of my early 20's. I was a young, single mom and life was tough. Feeling sorry for myself, although got me nowhere, became a place of,sadly, comfort. I was most comfortable while playing the martyr.

The fact that no one does anything without some sort of reward for themselves came up at our church's small group yesterday. I know what you're thinking. What about all of the things that we have to do as adults, and do, but are really comfortable and we don't want to? Where's the reward in that?Trust me, if there wasn't a reward, we wouldn't do it. We do the "right thing" even when it's uncomfortable, or downright excruciating knowing that somewhere, either in our conscience or down the road there will be a reward for ourselves. Even doing the right thing for reasons of salvation and karma, we have our own best interest in mind. Yes, even doing the right thing for the praise of a Higher Power, we do it because it's the right thing to do and it feels good deep down to do the right thing. Or, maybe we do the wrong thing sometimes because that feels good too. Sure, that is easier to point out. Of course, doing the wrong thing for pleasure is part of human nature. Well, doing ANYTHING for pleasure is part of human nature.

So why did martyrdom make me feel so good at that time in my life? I've never really pondered it too much. I kind of acknowledged that it was true, that I needed to stop because it wasn't healthy, and then moved on. But why, would engaging in a behavior where concentrating on the negative, become a place where I was most comfortable? I'm no masochist, in spite of some of my wilder decisions that I've made where it must seem that I've thrown away reason with wild abandon (puppy, anyone?). I suppose feeling "Woe is me," allows me to forgive myself in my imperfection a little easier. Oh wait, didn't you know that I am somewhat of a perfectionist? I forgot to mention that? Well, I am. There it is. I have very high standards for myself, and often times for others (just ask my loved ones). So I guess that if I allowed myself to feel sorry for myself, then I had an excuse when I wasn't performing up to my unrealistic standards. Do you see the pattern of sickness here? It really can be a vicious cycle.

What was the turning point? Has there really been a turnaround for me? I mean, here I am a mother of 5 with a schedule big enough to bring Donald Trump to his knees and I'm BLOGGING. Don't be fooled though. This blogging is (and here's that self-serving behavior) like therapy for me. There's something so comforting in journaling. Putting all of the insanity that is my life down in neat little words allows me to compartmentalize (OK sometimes BIG words) that insanity and make sense of it all. I know that a big part of my growth came from my vanity. Yep, not the kind of motivator that I am proud of, but if I'm being honest, I cared about what people thought of me. I hated to think that anyone would take me for a negative person.

I had to start off small. Awareness of course is always the first step. I had loved ones who would (sometimes not so gently) let me know when I was sitting on the pity pot too long, or seeing the glass as half empty all of the time. My husband gets to see the un-polished version of Sara on a daily basis and it's not pretty. Living with a person who is negative all the time can be draining. I know that he felt that a lot in the first few years of our marriage. You see, getting married didn't change the martyrdom I felt as a single mom, it simply morphed into, "I do so much more than you," (which I did btw haha). I would sit on that pot on a daily basis and there was little happiness, little harmony, but if I didn't get to that load of laundry that day it was OK because I-______________ fill in the blanks, so much more than you today. Not a healthy place to be in. So the small step I took after being aware and then being willing (amazing what a motivator pain can be!), was faking it till I made it. That's right, I pretended to be a positive person. I'm a pretty decent actress. Was Emily in "Our Town" in H.S. lit class you know......So I acted as if I was looking at life with rose colored glasses, when in the meantime I was thinking, you know what this happy nonsense is really just that, nonsense! Of course I prayed on it. Asking God for His will for my life and the power to carry it out, I knew that God didn't want me to be negative.

Slowly, but surely things began to change. My fake actions, started to come more naturally. I actually began to find myself looking at that glass as half full. It almost became a challenge that I gave myself. Seeing nothing but ugly? Where can I find the beauty. It was like a breath of fresh air that I craved. The more I got, the more I wanted it. Now, don't for a moment think that I am a PollyAnna in any way, shape or form. I'd like to think that I'm pretty grounded. I see the horror and tragedy in Haiti and I don't think, "Well, gee that's OK, this is a great opportunity for others to serve." That may be, but the horrors are real, and nothing can take that away. I guess the shift is, that I can acknowledge life's difficulties, tragedies and sadness, but I don't have to dwell on them. I acknowledge them, sometimes even hold onto them a little while just for old time's sake, and then I move on. Letting go and letting God.

Today was one of those days. Coming off of the week from hell (there I said it!), I woke up this morning to what seemed to be a mini-hurricane. It's January and it's 55 degrees and pouring. Lovely. What's even better is that my roof leaks in my kitchen when it pours. So I had about 5 pots lying around the kitchen catching the mini-waterfalls coming down my ceiling. My back was still killing me this morning and I had to go food shopping. My grocery bags, myself and Charlotte were soaked as we came home. Cold and wet, I drove up to my house only to find that the 200 year old stone wall in front of my property had washed out as if its very own landslide onto the street. I unpacked my soaking wet groceries and headed to pick up Luke and then went to the chiropractor. I got a little more relief for my back and came home to finish unpacking the groceries. At this low point in the day Charlotte came into the kitchen with a library book that we had taken out a few days ago and asked me if we could make the recipe that was in the back. It was a neat story about a little boy who's grandfather is a bee-keeper. After going through all of the work of taking care of the bees and harvesting the honey, the little boy and his grandparents reap the fruits of their labors by eating grandma's apple-honey muffins. The author includes the recipe for these muffins in the back of the book. Now, most of the pots that were filling with rain water were on the floor of the kitchen in front of my oven at this point, but I knew that this is just what I needed to do. Shift my perspective. Concentrate on something sweet. What could be sweeter than baking with my sweet Charlotte.....and 2/3's a cup of honey! As Charlotte helped to sift the flour and baking powder, smelling the cinnamon (mmm Momma!) and nutmeg (eww Momma!), I immediately could see that silver lining. The wind was still howling outside, but inside my oven was warming, the apples I was grating were sweetening the air, and my heart was full.

It made me think a bit. How amazing is it that something as frightening and potentially painful as bees, when handled correctly, can provide us with something as sweet and golden as honey? How many things in life are just like that? As long as I'm open to God's will, and accept that what happens in my life can be used to fulfill His will (notice how I don't say that all that happens in my life is God's will, but how I choose to handle what may come can be used to fulfill that will) I can only come out with something sweet and golden for my life. I just need to handle these episodes carefully. I also need to put them to sleep, just as the bee keeper lulls the bees so that he can collect the honey, I need to put my anxieties to rest in order to reap the benefits of the growth that has come by living through the hard times.

The muffins turned out wonderfully and as if that wasn't sweet enough, the rain began to subside and I noticed a pink glow out my kitchen window. My kids came running to me as they noticed it too. "Mommy, look outside! Look at that sunset!" It was, in fact, a most beautiful, glorious sunset. The horizon just over the nature preserve was tinged salmon, coral and soft pink, silhouetting the barren tree-tops. I watched for a while, as my tea pot began to whistle and as I settled down with a cup of hot tea and a warm homemade muffin, I forgot about the week before and the mess of today and could only taste and see the sweet goodness of where I was.

Nothing about our 4th child Luke has ever been average. Luke Thomas was born on Friday the 13th of August, 2004. I was scheduled to have a c-section on the 23rd of August, but Luke decided he was ready a little early. I went into labor in the early morning and finally realized that my contractions were a bit more than Braxton-Hicks in the early afternoon. I headed over to Valley Hospital, only to be met with chaos in the maternity ward. Hurricane Charlie had made landfall in Florida and Valley Hospital in NJ had its own hurricane with 85 babies born that day. Women were giving birth behind doors of offices, in hallways, basically anywhere they could fit them. I was shown to an uncomfortable chair near the nurse's station and was told to wait there. About 40 minutes and lots of contractions later, a bed opened up in the admitting room and they hooked me up to a bunch of monitors. I still remember the skepticism on the faces of the nurses and my OB when I "claimed" to be in labor. "But Mrs. Van Goor, you're only 37 weeks along. It's been hot out, you're probably dehydrated." I knew what I was feeling, but I just nodded as I panted. Reading the various monitors, it was soon decided that I was in fact in labor. The only problem was that there were no operating rooms available, nor were there any anesthesiologists. They told my husband that I still had lots of time and since they couldn't perform the cesarean any time soon, he should run home and get our affairs in order. Big mistake.

My labor progressed rather quickly, and as my husband was given the green light to "take his time", that is what he did. It became apparent that I was going to give birth very soon and since there was risk involved, they found an anesthesiologist and cleared out an operating room. Almost scolding me, the nurse told me that I had better find my husband. Well, you did tell him to leave! Of course, he wasn't answering his cell phone, nor the home phone. (I later found out that he was taking a shower.) Bill made it in the nick of time. I'd like to say that they wheeled me to the operating room, but since there wasn't a single wheel chair left, I had to walk myself there between hard-labor contractions. I will never forget that first hard contraction, and looking at my husband I said, "That had to be a fluke, they can't really hurt that bad?". Well, they did. Very soon, I was on the table, thanking the anesthesiologist for taking away my pain (I think I promised lots of things to him, thankfully he never took me up on them) and Luke was born weighing 8 lbs. 7 oz.

I wish I could tell you lots of things about Luke's infancy, but I really don't remember too much. For one thing, I had 3 year-old twins at the time and a 7 year-old who was playing soccer. The other thing was that Luke was an amazing baby. He really was. Barely ever cried, learned to sleep through the night right away on his own, never fussed. God truly gave me what I could handle in Luke.

There are a few things I remember from his first year. I can clearly remember the time that Luke was sound asleep in his car seat carrier on the kitchen floor. Gwen was busy talking to me as I was cooking and she kept walking backwards. Yep, you guessed it, she walked back into the car seat and plopped right on top of a very newborn Luke. I held my breath and all Luke did was jump as if he had a little dream and fell back to sleep.

Another incident from his infancy that stands out was the time I was taking the kids out of the car in front of our house. I normally unloaded the car in my driveway and I don't know why that day I parked on the street, but I put Luke's car seat on the sidewalk as I unbuckled the twins. I then heard a loud crackling noise and a "POP!". Afraid that something happened with the electrical wires overheard, I looked up. I saw, absolutely nothing. I looked around, and once again, aside from the newspaper delivery car, there was nothing and no one on the street. Shrugging my shoulders I went to pick Luke's car seat up to bring him inside. That is when I saw it. There was Saturday's newspaper sitting in Luke's little lap. The newspaper delivery man saw what happened and shouted, "sorry!" as he floored it down the road. Thankfully, Luke never even flinched.

Luke came into his own, right around the time that Charlotte was going to be born. His usually easy demeanor gone, he turned into one of the whiniest kids around. As his vocabulary progressed, the whining and crying subsided a bit, but the negotiating began. Luke earned the nickname of "Yeah-butt" around his 3rd birthday. "Luke, it's time for dinner."...."Yeah-but, I'm watching my favorite show." "Luke, please help Mommy clean up this mess," "Yeah-but, Charlotte made it." You get the picture.

So why does Luke get an entire blog entry about himself today? It's something that we've coined as "Lukeisms". Little things that Luke has said or done that make us crack up. Here's just a few:

When Luke was potty-trained, it became apparent that, well, let's just say that he cut a hard left. Before his corrective surgery, we had a number of rather humorous moments. I remember a trip to the pediatrician where they handed Luke a plastic cup and told him that he was supposed to fill it. He just looked at me and I could just imagine what was going through his head. This was a kid who had to stand to the far right of the commode to try to hit bulls eye in something the diameter of a beach ball. Now they were asking him to aim into something the diameter of a tangerine. Wondering how it went? Let's just say, one day why don't you take a water hose. Kink the hose and turn the water on. Grab a Dixie cup and put it right by the nozzle of the hose. Un-kink the hose and.... see how that goes. As you can imagine, both Luke and I needed a change of clothes that day. Luke's best quote from that experience kind of summed it all up, "Welp, I never tasted pee before. Kinda tastes like stale pretzels." Yes Luke, it sure does.

While driving in the car one day, Luke commented on Bob Dylan saying this, "Mom, I like the "Lay, Lady Lay"- Bob Dylan better than the "Rainy Day Woman" - Bob Dylan." Me too Luke. This was the same car trip where upon leaving Tom's River where we saw our cousins Leann and Tommy Luke said, "They should've named it Leann's River." Leann has always adored Luke!

At Jason's Christmas show this year, my mother-in-law brought a bag of mints to keep the little ones quiet. Luke, who has a real affinity for all things sugar, was eating a few too many. My father in law whispered to him, that if he ate too many, his teeth would surely have problems. Luke popped another mint in his mouth and said, "That's OK, I have a really good dentist."

Luke is always coming out with things that I should write down as soon as he says them. Some of the more memorable ones stick out. Guacamole -" Rock-n-Roley"......"I'm too pretty to be a zombie mom." "When I grow up, can I be Chinese?" " I looove Yew Nork city!" One day, Luke heard the song "It's Raining Men" on the radio. He had a strange look on his face for a moment, then picked up a fork that was nearby and using it as a microphone he said, "Stay away from NJ, reporting live, men are falling from the sky....I repeat, men are falling from the sky....Ugh, one got me!" I can assure you, I never thought of that when I heard that song before, but now that's all I see when I hear that song!

Then there was the time when I heard a loud thud in the boys' room. I dashed upstairs only to find Jason laughing like crazy and Luke, looking quite dazed. When I asked what had happened, Luke said that he had a dream that he was a Power Ranger. Jason, between hysterical laughter said that Luke had perched himself on the edge of his bed and belly flopped onto the floor. Luke didn't find it as funny.

Luke's outlook on things in life are always quite interesting. The other day Luke asked what happened to our bodies when we died. I explained that they turn into dust or dirt and went back into the ground. He sat pondering this for a while and then said, "So I guess the ground gets a little higher each time someone dies..." Um, I guess so Luke...

Did I mention that Luke's favorite movie in the whole world is Star Wars? Any Star Wars. He has been known to use Star Wars to describe many things in life. I've been told that I resemble Yoda when I wake up in the morning.....Thanks Luke......He also wanted to know if God was a Jedi.......When asked how Jesus was able to perform miracles, Luke said, "I think He used the force."

Luke has an amazing grasp of the Bible and its many stories. His teacher has often told me that his understanding of Scripture is amazing for a boy his age. Aside from injecting a few elements of Star Wars into them, I have to agree. Bill and I often say how Luke is going to make an interesting preacher one day. More importantly, Luke's understanding of God's love is very mature, yet has that awesome innocence of a child. One day while we were riding the elevator at the Dr.'s office a couple of years ago, Luke was singing his ABC's. An older gentleman asked him how he got so smart.....a barely 3 year-old Luke answered, "Well, God made me this way." He sure did Luke.

I'm glad that God made Luke the way he is. Whether it's while driving in the car and Luke is asking for his favorite song, "Mr. Mo-Jo-Risin please!" (LA Woman by the Doors). Or we're at the library and Luke decides that the books he's checking out today will be, "Life as a Navy Seal," and "The Pledge of Allegience." Or he's outfishing his father and grandfather on Greenwood Lake. Most of all, I'm glad that God made Luke my little boy.

Momma Said There'd Be Days Like This

*Sigh* I could just stop there, really. It has been "one of those days." My poor Madeleine woke this morning crying and sounding like she had a bunch of golf balls stuck in her throat. I knew immediately that she had caught strep and made an early morning Dr.'s appointment. After loading the other kids into the van, I carried a pajama-clad Maddie to the car. That is when I wrenched my back. My back has been a chronic nuisance and the timing for this couldn't be worse.

After dropping off the kids at school, Maddie quickly began to feel worse, and the poor kid was seriously turning gray. I hobbled her into the Dr.'s office, to the elevator and we settled in for what was supposed to be the first appointment of the day. Almost 40 minutes later, our Dr. finally got into the office. Thankfully the nurse had already given us the strep test and it was confirmed.....a third bottle of pink bubblegum medicine would be on our refrigerator shelf. Getting out of the chair in the exam room proved to be extremely difficult for me and I knew that I was in trouble. My back was starting to Charlie-horse and I'd need attention ASAP. One problem, I had a very sick little girl who needed attention more than I did. Maddie just wanted to lie down so I dropped her off in the care of my brother-in-law and ran to the pharmacy.

A trip to the pharmacy is always an interesting adventure, don't you think? I was third in line to drop off the prescription. The first customer spoke broken English. Apparently his broken English was a different dialect of broken English than the pharmacy tech and it took a loooong time to determine that his birthday was indeed October, 3rd 1958. I understood the poor man immediately and wanted to scream, "10/3/58!!!!!!",but I decided to breath and pray. After him, there was a woman who had lot of prescriptions to fill. I don't think she had insurance, so the poor thing had to ask how much each would cost, and then if there was an option of only filling half. That took equally as long as Mr. October. Now it was my turn....except that I saw behind me an elderly lady waiting about as long as I had. She was leaning against a display of flu-prevention products for support and I felt a tug on my conscience to let her go in front of me. She was absolutely floored, but I think, quite grateful. Finally, it was my turn, and when I went to walk forward, my back said, "uh-uh." I almost fell over the pharmacy counter. Maybe it was an act of God, because the pharmacist took one look at my pained face and filled my prescription immediately. I ran into a dear friend who's daughter goes to school with mine, and her smiling face was a reassurance that I am never alone.

At this point, I couldn't wait to get the medication to Maddie and I also knew that I needed to go to the chiropractor if I expected to walk upright, because at the moment I was walking at a 90 degree angle. I quickly dispensed the medication and scooped Maddie up to run to the chiropractor. I grabbed a plastic bag on the way out as Maddie was looking a bit green. One quick trip to the chiropractor (with some relief) later and we were back on the road heading home. Turns out it was a good thing that I grabbed that plastic bag. There are few things that are as awful as having a child get sick in your vehicle. The smell is one thing. The utter helplessness you feel as a parent watching it happen in your rear view mirror because you are not in a position to pull over is another entirely. All I could think of was the fact that the antibiotics couldn't work if they didn't stay in her. Bag of vomit in one hand, Maddie held on my aching-hip by the other, we were finally home. Maddie's condition got worse and it became apparent that she needed further intervention. The poor thing was brought back to the Dr.'s and received an extremely painful antibiotic shot. I think they filled that syringe with a little bit 'o miracle. What a difference almost immediately!

So here are the silver linings (yes, there were more than one today!). My kids actually loved dinner today (boneless spare ribs, assorted veggies and egg noodles)! Luke, who eats most every meal with chop sticks asked me if he could be Chinese when he grows up, to which I replied, "Of course, honey, you can be whatever you want when you grow up." Most importantly, my Madeleine is sitting up eating pudding, and enjoying watching "Night at the Museum 2" with all of her siblings. Can anyone say, "Fire Powa!"

Would You Like Fries With That?

A moment of inspiration presented itself to me tonight as I was cleaning up the dinner mess. Mealtime with the family......Certainly blog-worthy. I should give credit where credit is due. As far as American children go, my kids are really, very good eaters. Sure, they'd gladly accept chicken nuggets and french fries every day and I am sure that you can find a petrified french fry on the floor of the car, but as that's not an option in our house, they really go with the flow most of the time. I recognize that the fact that my kids fight over the last pieces of asparagus or broccoli is downright enviable.

There are, however, obstacles that I have to overcome feeding 7 people. For starters, it's difficult to find one exact food that all 7 of us can agree upon. Once again, a fast food such as pizza is a safe bet, but I'm talking about a good home-cooked meal. I gave up most fast food, myself, a few years ago. I think it may have been the two BK breakfast sandwiches with sausage, egg and cheese that I would eat daily while pregnant with Luke. They were, ironically, the only thing that didn't make me ill during the first 3 months. I will treat the kids about once a month (much to my husband's chagrin which is ironic as he exists on coffee and ice cream.) but we barely ever eat fast food.

Fortunately I love to cook. Unfortunately, I love to eat more than I love to cook. Which means that to me grilled cheese and canned tomato soup, although my husband's favorite, does not constitute a dinner for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a food snob, I just see meals as an adventure for the pallet, not as a mere necessity. I use lots of resources to explore new and exciting recipes. Whether it's the internet, cook books or food magazines, I am constantly searching for something new to try, or the best recipe for a favorite dish. I've been known to be seen jotting down recipes in Dr.'s waiting rooms on the back of business cards.

Now, my kids would be divided as to whether or not having a gastronomically adventurous mom is a good thing. We've had some wonderful successes. I can remember Luke at 2 years old asking for more, "Rock-n-Roley please!" Guacamole, needless to say, has become a family staple. Some of our other adventurous successes have been grilled fish, calamari, pesto linguine, fish tacos and vegetarian chili. Then, there are evenings like tonight.......

Let me back -track a second and mention that my husband is a vegetarian. This not-so-simple fact has forced me to research and try many meatless meals. It has actually been a really positive influence on our diets as in the case of the vegetarian chili or the vegetarian tacos that my family loves. The real challenge with cooking vegetarian is trying to include enough protein in your diet. We do eat meat a few times a week, but on the other nights I really try to find healthy and tasty alternatives.

On the menu tonight was a new recipe that I got from Whole Foods, Soy-Ginger stir fry with winter greens. I love stir fries as they cook up quickly, and they're a great way to get lots of veggies into a meal. I took the recipe and added a few family- friendly veggies. In addition to the kale, I added sugar snap peas, carrots, sweet red peppers and broccoli. I made some chicken for us carnivores, but I really wanted to add a big kick of protein to the dish so I made my favorite soba noodle bowl. Soba noodles are made from buckwheat and are chock full of protein. This is where the adventure begins......My son Jason walks into the kitchen and observes the dry soba noodles as they're about to be immersed in the boiling water, "Cardboard for dinner, mom?" Yes son, cardboard has lots of fiber, you now get to have an extra serving of it. Charlotte and Luke come in the kitchen making sure that they add their special ingredients to the meal, which is running under my feet so that I practically kill them and myself while navigating my kitchen. They then catch sight of the Kale and announce that there is no way they can eat that because - a. "My tummy hurts from my medicine, b. "My tongue is still salty from the Scarlet Fever", c. "It smells like fart Mommy." Gee thanks for the vote of confidence guys. Taking into consideration the antibiotics in their systems and the fact that after having a sick husband home today I was in no mood for crying at the dinner table, I caved and dished out mandarin oranges and jello for Luke and Charlotte. Don't judge.......

Since I don't have a large metal triangle to ring, I shout, "Dinner!" and the rafters begin to shake as they all run downstairs to eat. Visions of The Sound of Music run through my head, if only I had that whistle.....I digress.....the exuberance that the kids had while running to the feast diminishes almost immediately as the 3 older kids see the mound of veggies and foreign-looking pasta. After a moving prayer of grace by Luke that started out with, "Now I lay me....whoops, I mean..", Gwen pushes her bowl away and asks if she can also partake in the mandarin oranges/jello feast. When you're 3 and 5 and just coming off of strep and an ear infection, it's OK. When you're 8, (and yes I know she had a thorn in her eye, but that was Monday!) it's not OK. The general rule of thumb in my house is that I am not a short-order cook. What I make for dinner is what you eat for dinner. If you don't, it will be sitting there waiting for you to get so hungry that your stomach is eating your back and you absolutely cannot stand it anymore so you begrudgingly choke it down. I might microwave it for you after it's been sitting there for an hour or so. I might not. Anyway, Gwen is informed that she must eat it, or can go right to bed. Upon hearing this, Maddie begins to compliment my meal as if it were the best thing in the world. Whether she really feels this way or not, we all doubt, but Maddie will never miss an opportunity to brown- nose while her twin sister is down. Jason silently, but slowly eats his cardboard and vegetable dish, then thanks me for dinner and honestly, I haven't seen him since. I'm not sure if we're on speaking terms or not. Gwen takes her sweet time moaning and groaning with every bite so that a deal is made that if she eats all of her chicken, all of the carrots and broccoli and some of the noodles, she can be done. Maddie once again, tells me how it's the best meal she's ever had. Not so ironically, Gwen actually eats more than Maddie does. Charlotte and Luke quickly devour their Dutch-side dishes that are now dinner. Hubby is sick so he's munching on toast in the other room. I am left with my culinary masterpiece. I would like to say that I can understand where the kids were coming from. But I can't. It was delicious! Bon appetit!

Who You Callin' Bozo?

Have you ever been driving and have a moment where you're like, "ummmm, where the heck am I?" Now, you're not lost, you're on the road you're supposed to be on, but you're not sure what part of the road you're on or even if you're going in the right direction. The reason for this is usually a daydream or thought that took you away for just a moment. That just happened to me as I was picking Jason up from youth group. It may have been the music he was playing. Perhaps I went into a self-preserving safe place deep in my mind, to protect myself from "Nevershoutnever." Or, maybe I'm just shot because it's Tuesday.

Yes, Tuesdays can induce episodes similar to medically-induced comas for me by the end of the day. On the heels of a letter reminding me that my kids have been tardy a bit too often this year (why did they make school 10 minutes earlier?), I set the alarm clock for 6:00....pm. Yep, pm. Thankfully a recurring dream/nightmare where I can't find a bathroom with a door on it woke me up about 20 minutes before we had to leave. On any other day, this would be difficult to say the least. On a Tuesday? This is an absolute worst-case-scenario. On Tuesdays, we leave the house at 7:30am and don't get back home until about 9:30pm. In order to make this day happen, I have to first make sure that we have everything we need packed in the van. This includes, 5 backpacks, 3 lunchbags, 3 dancing school bags, 1 gym bag, 1 violin, 3 GEMS bags, 5 kids, 1 dog and his crate and multiple costume changes. After I load up my circus car, then it's trying to get everyone in said vehicle. This generally consists of, "Get in the car and get buckled in".....2 minutes later..."Get in the car and get buckled.",...........another minute...."What did I say? Get in the car and get buckled in."..........another minute and lots of kids fighting later, "GET IN THE CAR NOOOOW!" The circus car is cramped. The circus car often smells, especially in the winter when I can't open any windows. I am the head clown, so I get to drive. I also get to play DJ and librarian. Librarian, because Charlotte likes to read on her way to her destinations and requests various books that are always out of her reach. If they are in her reach, she is not interested. DJ, because my children share my love of music, but they don't necessarily agree on what types of music are worth loving. I spend most of the time reminding the demanding clowns of their manners. "How do you ask for the book Charlotte?" "How do you ask for the song that you want that Mommy really is sick of playing because I have to yell at myself to stop singing kiddie-tunes while out to dinner with her friends Luke?"

After this mind-numbing drive, I drop the kids off at school and both I and my car's struts sigh in relief. I then head to work so that I can spend time with other people's children. Yes, I get paid to teach other people's children how to stretch, breath and be zen. For free, I'll yell at kids to "GET IN THE CAR NOW!" I then run back to school, which did I mention is 20 minutes+ from my house, pick up Charlotte and pick up Luke. If it's not sub-zero or precipitating too hard, we'll play on the playground for a while to get the ants in our pants out. Then we head to my mother in law's as she lives in the same town as the kids' school.

After a snappy lunch, I coax Charlotte into her dancing school outfit which consists of pink tights made from a special material developed by NASA that causes you to break out in a sweat and think awful thoughts while putting it on your sweet ballerina, and a black leotard WITHOUT the spaghetti straps that Charlotte can't stop pulling down to her belly-button in class, showing all of her naked-cuteness to the world. Hair must be in a bun as per the rules of Miss Patti's School of Dance. After all, "Dance is more fun with your hair in a bun." Ahh, poetry.....not mine btw.

45 minutes later we're off to pick the other kids up from school, two in one town, one in another. Then we're back at Miss Patti's School of Dance so that the twins can continue with their Rockette training. Back to mother in law's to do homework with the other kids and an hour later, picking up the Chorus Line so they can start their homework.

Some Tuesday's we head 20 minutes back home and then I have to head down again at 9pm to pick Jason up from youth group. Every other Tuesday I am a GEMS counselor and co-coordinator so we change into our hip tie-dyed GEMS shirts and immerse ourselves in fellowship with lots of little girls and wonderful women. Then, I go and pick Jason up, etc. etc.

So, as I have a moment of panic while driving home in my clown car, wondering if perhaps, Alzheimer's is setting in early.. I must remember to give myself a break......and honk my big red nose under the big top.

Well, here goes nothing

I had to ask myself if I had thick enough skin to start a blog. Could I handle letting people in? Could I handle criticism and judgement? I decided that the only way to know for sure was to just go for it! I decided to call my blog, "Never a Dull Moment" and for those of you who know me, there is no need for me to explain the name. For those of you who don't know me, I am a married mother of 5 children- Jason- 13, Madeleine-8, Gweneth-8, Luke-5 and Charlotte-3. Those five miracles alone keep my life busy, fulfilling and never ever dull. I've often had moments with my children, whether humorous or not, where I felt that I should be writing it down. Well, here's my chance. Let's start with today......



After an interesting weekend that was filled with a burst eardrum (Charlotte) and strep-induced Scarlet Fever (Luke), we were all looking forward to a day off of school for MLK day that was illness free. We were lucky enough to get it, and headed out to Waywayanda State Park for a family hike. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself a little here. With 5 kids there is never a moment where I can just "head out" anywhere. The morning started out with nudging my husband out of bed (I could write a whole blog just about that), then onto breakfast. Silly me thought that we could have an easy breakfast of cold cereal, however, the kiddies informed me that scrambled eggs and bacon sounded much better. I really had no excuse as to why I couldn't cook for them (mommy staying up too late watching, "Julie and Julia" was not a valid excuse) so that's what they got. You ever clean up after 5 kids? Let me re-phrase that, did you ever clean up scrambled eggs after 5 kids devoured them? Sticky, and messy doesn't quite do justice describing it, but you get the idea. Then my OCD needs to be indulged and I make the beds and empty the dishwasher (really hate to leave the house without that done).
****************************You've Got to Be Kidding Me Update************************

So as I was attempting to discuss the hoops that I have to jump through in order to get out for a hike, and then comment on the highlights of the hike which not only included beautiful, picturesque views of waterfalls and warm sunshine, but also falling children, slush-soaked bottoms and not to be forgotten, the pool of dead-deer blood that Luke nearly fell in....the serenity of nature...Gwen came in the living room and informed me that as she was exploring the woods in our yard, she got a thorn in her eye. I, being less than moved by every claim of injury, glanced at the eye, noticed it was red and told her to lie down and rest a minute. A minute later she complained that the eye was bothering her, so I took a better look. Low and behold....there was a thorn stuck in her eye. That's normal, right? You'd think that I was sympathetic? Unfortunately, I was miffed, knowing that I now had to drag all of the kids out the door again. Mind you, she was in great spirits and wasn't crying so I wasn't too concerned at first. I dropped the other 4 and the dog off by my mother in law (who is amazing!) and ran to the dr.....This is at 4pm right before they close. I ended up sitting there for over an hour while the dr. decided how best to go about treating Gwen. Thoughts going through my mind were anywhere from prayers, to God that it wasn't that serious, to, "Darn, I defrosted dinner for nothing!" Deep, I know.....The long and short of it, we bypassed the ER and went straight to an eye-specialist. My calm over the situation dissolved when the dr. mentioned that if the thorn was in deep enough, pulling it out would decompress the eye (are you kidding?). The prayers really were offered up at this point and thank goodness, it was a superficial wound, and said thorn was plucked from her beautiful baby blues......So, if there were any doubts in my mind as to whether or not "Never a Dull Moment" was an appropriate name for this blog, they are gone. All in a day's work!