One of my kids (and I won't say who) declared to me not long ago: "Mommy- I think my teacher is in love with the janitor because she spends a lot of time talking to him everyday!" I laughed very hard at that one. This particular child of mine has an extraordinary sense of humor and we have a lot of inside jokes like this one. Even on my most weary evenings, the devilish grins from this kiddo of mine can really get me good. ;)

I found this cool website today and thought you all might be interested in seeing it too. Thinkin' I might sit down with my brood this weekend and do some valentine cards for the brave kids they feature. Here's the link:

Make A Child Smile

I drove Lily and Liam to school this morning because Lily had forgotten to get one of her tests signed and she would be penalized if she didn't turn it in today. Accompanied by Benjamin (of course- my little co-pilot), we sauntered into the building, trying not to be trampled by the mad rush of elementary kids when the bell rang. First we walked Liam to his locker where he pretended not to enjoy my sloppy kisses all over his head, then we took Lily upstairs to find her test for me to affix my John Hancock. It was sweet to see all the kids, especially the boys in Lily's grade (4th), stop to talk to Benjamin or ask him his name. He was beaming- his little dimples going berzerk.

After we left the school, Ben asked if we could go to our favorite snack spot up the street- Uptown Coffee. As we bothered to refill our parking meter, I noticed that the car next to ours, belonging to another mom whose children are just a grade up from Liam, was parked in front of an expired meter so I whipped out a quarter to ensure the sneaky meter-maid wouldn't plop a big ol' ticket on her windshield (who wants to start the day off like that?). Benjamin just stood there and stared, then inquired "why you do that mommy? that not our car?!!" So I explained "that is Julie's truck and we don't want her to get a ticket and I have an extra quarter." I felt great that Benjamin could witness such a small but significant act of kindness because I know that it colors the way he sees the world- instead of a scarey place where you have to lock doors and watch your belongings like a hawk, its a land where people care for one another in ways that sometimes only God can see, but they make a huge difference. Then we shared an orange cream soda at the Uptown and went home.

I got my happy slappy out of my warm bed this morning, at the crack of dawn, and instead of going to the gym I went to our local Giant Eagle
grocery store (okay- we were out of cat food and baby food and I couldn't very well starve them- the cats and the baby- right?!). All in all it was a very serene shopping experience, no one but me in the aisles, no small "Sombars" begging for the plethora of non-nutritive food items screaming their names from the shelves, no baby to nurse in the cafe amongst old men and cranky employees on their breaks....ah....but then came the bewildered feeling of seeing that my only check-out option was the self-administered kind. I deplore those things- with every ounce of sanity in my body- they are the devil and, because they are saving these supermarkets a ton of money on salaried cashiers, the bitterness within me rises to the occasion and I become rather gruff, throwing my eight thousand jars of organic baby mush on the conveyor belt, then the three thousand cans of soft Kitty mush, then the bag of hairball formula dry vittles- which, of course, gets rejected FOUR times by the annoying computer lady who loudly declares "ITEM INVALID- PLEASE REMOVE FROM BELT AND TRY AGAIN...ITEM INVALID- PLEASE REMOVE FROM BELT AND TRY AGAIN." Personally, for any mother who peels herself from a nice slumber, in the dark of the wee hours, to drive in gale force winds (this is not an exaggeration) to provide food for all the beings in her abode, there should be a welcoming committee with hot cider, fresh donuts (not that i would indulge), and certainly A LIVE CASHIER. So, as I'm breathing deeply while bagging my own stuff, grumbling to no one, I ponder to myself- how can I get the hourly wage that Giant Eagle has saved by forcing me to do their dirty work at the register? Sneak an extra organic mango into my bag- a few jars of Gerber squash and corn- a 5lb. bag of chicken and rice cat food....BUT I WOULD NEVER DO THAT, PEOPLE, BECAUSE I AM A REASONABLE WOMAN WITH VALUES....right?!

Bonnie, my good "mommy friend" in our community, dinner exchange partner, and blogging cohort (see her blog in my sidebar), dropped by, unannounced, this morning with a bouquet of the happiest daisies you've ever seen
- just because she knew I could use the pick-me-up.

I'm sitting here, looking at the monitor of my pc, so bewildered that I don't even know where to start this post- but I know I need to talk about it because it is causing me a lot of stress right now.

Currently I have two children in the local public school- an institution which has won the "blue ribbon" from the Dept. of Education and has a reputation that is first rate in the County where we live. We pay exorbitant taxes, by any standard, to live where we do, mostly to support this school district. Yet, the problems that exist with "public education" in general are no different in this affluent community, than they were in the lower-income neighborhood from which we came. Children are fed a cookie-cutter curriculum, though taught by teachers with advanced degrees who are paid much better than average, and if your child doesn't happen to fit the mold they are designed for, but are not considered "special education" students, you, my friend, are out of luck. I have children who don't fit molds- though normal in appearance (LOL), they walk, talk, and read later than the expectations for the "No Child Left Behind" standards. Though they are remarkably more mature than many of their peers of the same age- which, because it can't be quantified on a standardized test, does not matter in the least to the people running "the system." My seven-year old son, Liam
, could sit in a room full of adults and carry on a very meaningful conversation with anyone, regardless of age or background, and can handle difficult situations with stride- but his reading skills are, well, remedial, when evaluated in terms of where he "should be" in public school

Liam reading a book to Ben this morning over breakfast.

. My daughter, Lily, now ten, developed in the same exact manner, in regards to academics, and is now a student who receives mostly A's on her report card and has no trouble achieving as she is "programmed". So where we are, right now, is in a very tense state trying to advocate for Liam's rights to succeed at his own pace, with the faith that he will, as his sister has demonstrated, not only "catch up" but surpass the public school's expectations of him in the very near future. As there is no scientific basis for the conclusions we, as his parents, have drawn, our pleas have basically fallen on deaf ears and he, as well as Tom and I, are being treated, in my opinion, as if there is some misconduct as far as his study habits are concerned, and our support of him in this manner. At each conference, and with the latest report card, which was horrendous, we are being put in a position where we feel like we are on trial- where we must defend the amount of time Liam spends studying his words every night, etc. etc. I long to remove him, and maybe all of my children, from this oppressive scenario and plop them down in a school that educates children in a more holistic manner, but that is neither affordable or convenient based on where we live. I envy my friends who are homeschooling- the freedom is remarkable and their children are so well-rounded in their academic experience. But, as always, we, as parents, are only striving to do what is best for our children, with no regard to the opinions of anyone else, and sometimes that decision isn't as clear cut as we'd like it to be. There are only gray areas for us, as far as the learning side of life is concerned. And right now, I just feel an ache in my heart- because my son is so special

Liam at a table in his favorite class- ART

and he isn't receiving the care that he deserves and the space in which to grow on his own time frame. What to do....

I think I may have talked my way through history classes or made-out with boys or some other misbehavior because I am rather remedial when it comes to historical trivia. My husband, on the other hand, holds this as one of his great strengths so he enjoys seeing how much I don't know on a continual basis. Since Lily is a history buff, I am always looking up questions for her on the internet. One of the ideas I had for a crash course in significant events was to use Billy Joel's
song "We Didn't Start The Fire" as a study outline of sorts. Lily liked that idea and found this awesome video on the web.

Today is one of those that I love- all of us just hangin' out- no pressure to clean or accomplish any real significant tasks (not that we don't NEED to- we have just chosen not to care today). Liam and Benjamin started the morning out by building a fort


out of a cool box (from Ben's new basketball hoop that Gramma bought him for his birthday). They made all of these secret doors to climb through to get into our dining room. Lily, unfortunately, has a bad stomach ache
so she's dividing the hours between sleeping and watching TV. In truly "Lily fashion", I served her, using the silver set my mother-in-law, Rose, gave me for Christmas. This put a smile on my sick girl's face (when I am under the weather, Lily always goes way over the top by bringing meals in bed, etc.) After a yummy spaghetti lunch (Tom's favorite meal to fix), the boys and I played a new game
on Minutemen (Disney Channel. com) called Jeannette's Minutemen Makeover, which was surprisingly appealing to my testosterone filled sons. We took turns dressing the characters in a variety of fashions to see who could get the "super cool" rating or "super nerd." It was very amusing. Tom's typical bonding ritual with his babies is to take them on errands- so he and Seth are at Costco, replenishing our food supply which was lost earlier in the week when some helpful soul left the refrigerator door open over-night and spoiled all the perishables.

I am resisting the urge to start scrubbing the place- I want to enjoy my kids today
. If only they would stop doing gross things like picking their boogers- I would really be in heaven. :)

I have been baking these pumpkin muffins for about a decade now and it always gets rave reviews from adults and kids alike. Great for cold winter mornings or an evening snack.

Preheat oven to 350

1 LARGE can of pumpkin (not the puny average soup-can size!)
1 c of oil (I've also used part applesauce for a healthier alternative)
2/3 c of water
4 large eggs (if you use extra-large, drop it to 3 or your bread will be mushy)
splash of vanilla

4 c of flour
3 c of sugar
2 tsp. of baking soda
1 tsp. of baking powder
2 tsp of cinnamon
1 tsp. of nutmeg
1 tsp. of salt
1/2 tsp of allspice
1/2 tsp of cloves
1/4 tsp of ginger

Mix wet ingredients and dry ingredients separately then combine. Do not over mix. Pour into greased loaf pans or muffin pans. For muffins, your baking time will be around 25-30 mins. Watch carefully- the muffins will burn easily if left in too long. For loaves, about 45 mins. to 1 hr.

ENJOY!!!

I like to get all my ingredients organized ahead of time- and put each away after adding them to the bowl. Today we are making TWO batches, so everything is doubled.

Ben ALWAYS has to be included in the baking experience. Sometimes, like today, I'm not really in the mood for this but I cave because I know it makes him feel great. He tasted the pumpkin out of the can and decided its better with sugar!

I have to put my OCD tendencies at ease when my kids crack the eggs- I'm always paranoid about having shells in the batter. Today we only had a big chunk fall in, so it was easy to retrieve. The little shards are a real pain.


Doubling the recipe made the job of stirring quite a task. We barely had room in our big yellow tupperware bowl, a treasure found at a thrift shop some years back. It really worked my biceps to get it all mixed together, which can't be a bad thing, right?

I love the internet. I love having all of my curiosities indulged right at my fingertips. This evening my mom was telling me that she'd heard that Halloween originated in Ireland. So, thinking that she maybe didn't hear that correctly (Halloween? Irish? No........), I grabbed the laptop and looked it up. Here is a good site for Halloween history- even though it is January.... Trick or Treating and jack o' lanterns DID come from Ireland, though Halloween, as a holiday, dates farther back to the Druids and Romans.

This
is my favorite bumper-sticker. I saw it on the back of an SUV on my way into the city some months ago and have thought of it many times since. I sing this song (Micah 6:8)to Seth every night, as I rock him to sleep. To me, it is a pretty good summation of true Christianity and one I must aspire to more often. You can buy this and many other "liberal/left-wing Christian gear" from the Turn Left site.

I love Thai food- especially from The Bangkok Balcony
in Squirrel Hill. Tonight Tom and I treated ourselves to carry out from there- we had summer rolls (like raw spring rolls), fried tofu salad, Pineapple Curry (THE BEST OF ALL), Mussaman Curry (old stand-by), and Praram Tofu (peanut butter tofu with spinach).

I love feet- not a weird fettish but a "cute-baby-feet-i-can't-stop-gazing-at" thing. I try to take pictures of Seth's feet but 1)i'm no pro at photography, 2)i have a marginal camera (which i am thankful for, don't get me wrong), and 3)he keeps moving the darn things! Here is an example of my latest attempt, while he was taking his nightly bath in our kitchen sink
Here are some from the other day


When I was a child I wanted to be black because I envied the way my friends' braids would stay in their hair, even without a barrett or rubber band, while mine ALWAYS fell out (I had that super shiny, super fine, impossible to hold-in-a-style white girl hair). I told this story to Ben's class two weeks ago, when I came in to read one of my favorite children's books - Nappy Hair by Carolivia Herron
(I am a children's book fanatic and have thousands here just waiting for some nice book shelves to get organized. It is currently my big "home improvement" goal).

In the midst of all the stress we are currently facing, with very little sleep this week and a screaming baby, there were moments, yesterday, that I wanted to note because they made me laugh out loud.

The elementary school that two of my children attend is currently having a "penny war" in an effort to raise the funds to purchase new playground equipment (if you knew the extraordinary amount of money that I pay in school tax each year, you would be as perplexed as I am that there needs to be this charade to begin with, but who am I?!!!). The classroom that collects the most pennies over the two week period wins a pizza party (okay- another problem with this scam is that there is supposedly a district-wide rule where children are no longer allowed to be "rewarded" with food-except, of course, when the school decides that its own best interests are at stake, like with wheedling additional monies from parents for the playground or to "boost" scores by pumping our children with sugar just before standardized tests are administered). So, needless to say, my house has been emptied of every last penny the mint ever made that crossed our threshold, no one's piggy bank or lifesavings was excluded. As an extra bonus for Liam, I brought in rolls of pennies for each kid in his class, in honor of his birthday (since- you know- cupcakes are now illegal- we wouldn't want to reward a seven-year-old for being seven) (am I bitter?). The twinkles in Liam's eyes when I explained, in the school office, that he was holding a box of two thousand five hundred pennies, were worth the entire effort on my part, and even greater, was the laugh I got watching him attempt to carry this load back down the hall to his classroom. I am such a succer for my kids' happiness.

Benjamin had his girlfriend, Ella,
over for a playdate yesterday. Just to give them a chuckle, I asked if they wanted beer or wine with their granola bars. Well, they howled with delight at that joke, then proceeded to whisper to one another about having tasted their parents' beer in the past. Then Benjamin inquired, very secretively, in Ella's ear, whether she would be spending the night with him that night- to which he got silence. Ella, as her mother describes, is the female version of Ben- so it was several hours of bouncing off walls and jumping for joy at every turn. At one point they knocked heads, which required a double serving of magic kisses and cuddling. If they should marry and eventually procreate, I will be leaving the country- alone.

Lily likes to be asked to run into the small grocery store, up the street from our house, alone, to make a quick purchase for me, from time to time. Now that she is ten-years-old, this seems like a reasonable activity (and she's very mature), so yesterday she left me in the van next to the store entrance, with the boys, while she took my cash and got an item that we were missing for dinner. About 10 minutes later she returns, gleeful, bounding into the van with the most urgent of stories to relay- "MOMMY- Eddie Murphy is getting divorced after just two weeks of marriage and Miley Sirus got a makeover- I KNOW because this news was on the cover of People Magazine!!!!" Good grief.

And the funniest, by far, may have been Liam exclaiming to me that he wished we still lived in Ireland. Huh?!! "You, know, Mommy, how our family is Irish- well, if we still lived there, I could be a King or a knight or something like that!!" Ben very adamantly opposed this glorious plan, because, as he explained to his bewildered brother, Irish people are poor and starving, so we wouldn't want to live there. When I asked what he was talking about he said that he had heard at school one day that a lot of Irish people died because they were hungry (apparently he learned about the potato famine- and he is FIVE!!!).

Today, Lily straightened her hair so she looks about 17, which is driving her father and grandmother crazy (I think she is stunning, myself). Liam and Ben, along with Daddy, got their hair cut. Ben came rushing in the door, afterward, screaming "Mommy- Daddy almost got bald- look at his head!!!!"

Tonight, as we were putting the kids down, and I layed along side of Benjamin, he says, in a very exasperated tone- I NEED A STINKIN' A-WUM (arm). He has developed, in the last few months, a need to nestle on my arm before catching some zzz's. If he won't stop talking or if the ritual begins to take too long, I grow frustrated and will often turn my back to him, which he hates. Tonight was one of those nights-he was calling his sister a butt and then Liam chimed in that he theorized that the stink from skunks came out of their penises (I guess that would mean that there were no female skunks....) and then Lily got up and began beating each of her two brothers with a stuffed dog. Eventually he got my stinkin' arm back and the sounds of his miniature snores soon followed.

HUH?!!!

well, you all will be relieved to know that I've developed an interest in going to the gym at the crack of dawn, again, so perhaps there is some hope in the "someday being less curvy department" (except for the huge "porn" boobs which I currently am sporting and would like to keep).

interestingly enough, due to the malfunction of my tired iPod shuffle (version #1 from its genesis several years ago), i have been forced to haul my happy slappy on the treadmill while watching ESPN on the monitor above me (the only other members in the gym at 5:30 are middle-aged men- so they get the pick of channels). At first, I felt a bit of rage begin to boil under my skin, that I would have to sweat and be tortured by these drab sports anchormen, all about 50ish, in suits and monotone voices, go over and over their predictions for the Superbowl, the Stanley cup, the NBA finals, the steroid controversy, the Australian Open, the Redskins hiring a new coach, the list goes on and on. However, you may be shocked, as I am, to discover that watching the clips of very fit guys in tight pants running down a field is rather titillating. And these are some very attractive human beings, let me tell you. There's also the extra-large basketball players, and Tiger Woods,
who would be candy to any one's eyes. So while you all may be catching some extra beauty sleep as the sun comes up, I, myself, am having visions of Junior Seau of The Patriots
whisking me off of the elliptical trainer and into his very beautiful biceps. Hea- whatever works!

I wanted to chat, for a minute, about something which isn't my normal "mother diatribe"....it's been on my mind and I thought I'd throw it out there into the blogosphere for deep contemplation, this cold and snowy evening. I went to the hair salon last week and I went all by myself, which we all know is surely a miracle of Jesus, for obvious reasons. Normally when given the privilege of leaving my home to have my head groomed, to the max, I can barely hold myself still in the chair- I'm so giddy. This appointment, however, I found myself in such deep distress, as I sat in front of a full-length mirror, gazing at my body with disgust. It didn't help that I was tired, but mainly I was just sad. I have a lot going for me in life and if the ol' cliche' "its what's on the inside that counts" worked, I'd be on top of the world- believe me, my insides rate a 10! But I'm carrying around a lot of extra weight, mostly from the last five years (the last two kids), and it is a burden of such magnificent proportions that it is hard to put into words what it is like to wake up everyday in this skin. I have a big job- four souls to raise, a house to manage, a marriage to think of (once and a while)...and its there waiting for me no matter what. And some days its harder than others, especially when you feel like what's on the outside is so deplorable- such a misrepresentation of who you are. That's where I'm at right now and I have no answers, no morsels of hope to proclaim, no perfect endings to bring my post to a close.

I wonder where you are, right now, in your journey and what things you find your heart aching over some days- maybe a relationship gone wrong, a job tried and failed, dreams which lay dormant and unrealized; maybe you have memories that you stow away in the darkest corners of your mind so you don't face that pain anymore- but they keep coming back; maybe you need to quit something - a bad relationship, drinking, smoking, bingeing, and the strength just isn't there- and you keep going back. maybe you just need to know, deep down in your soul, that you are good-

a friend made a copy of this song for me a couple of years ago. close your eyes and breathe it in....every word

I would love to report that the spirit of love and generosity spread through my home in honor of Dr. King today, but, alas- No- we spent the holiday in our usual chaos of quarrels- over the computer, over the remote, over who sits next to mommy for lunch, Then there was the trip into the city to the pediatrician due to Seth's ear infection (the cause of his all-night scream fest and my lack of sleep last night). There were some special moments- we had blueberry pancakes for breakfast, which I made and didn't burn (LOL). Lily baked a double layer chocolate cake, Liam made cupcakes with sprinkles, and Benjamin made brownies for our Martin Luther King birthday party.

At 7:15, Georgina, the 7 yr. old next door, came over to serenade Mr. King and hear Tom read "I Have A Dream". All in all, we had fun, and I'm going to sleep. Good night.

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.

Pastor Martin Niemöller


On this the day that our Nation stops to ponder and recognize the contributions of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I believe that it is important to acknowledge that there are citizens around us who are not yet free- who cannot pursue happiness in the same way as others. We need to commit ourselves to upholding the civil rights of ALL people in this great land. May His dream live on and may we never cease to work to ensure the freedom of all human beings.

I've been thinking, today, about Martin Luther King, Jr., the man whose birthday our nation will recognize tomorrow. I thought I would go ahead and post my favorite lines from his infamous speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Enjoy.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."²

5. Liam finding a whoopie cushion
and proceeding to spend what seemed like hours "exploding" around our home on Saturday afternoon- mounds of laughter following, from all of us, every time. You just gotta celebrate flatulance- both real and improvised. God obviously has a sense of humor.

4. Lily discovering and playing "Presidential Paintball" on the computer. All of a sudden, out of the blue, I hear- "Mommy- Hillary just attacked Obama- This is so great!!" She knows where her Mommy's allegiance lies and is smart enough to use this information to gain further time on my computer to play games.

3. Benjamin announcing, this morning, that Tom and I were not going to be allowed to lay with him tonight, as he goes to sleep, because he was going to practice being a spy. Lily and Liam concurred and have decided to have a "spy party" this evening, in their bedroom
, where we have stacked mattresses to make an extra-high perch for them to station themselves. Liam has also begun making "cheerio streamers" to hang around the room, in case they get hungry.

2. SETH
SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT LAST NIGHT, FROM 6:30 UNTIL 5:30 THIS MORNING!!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Too bad Tom's snoring woke me up at 2am and kept me awake for a while. Hmph.


AND, FINALLY, FOR THE #1 THING OF THE WEEKEND.................................
1. LIAM LOST HIS FIRST TOOTH!!!! HURRAY!!!
So Liam hurredly put his tiny tooth in a cup of water ("so the tooth doesn't get lost under my pillow, mommy.")in his bedroom. The tooth fairy, grateful for not having to search for that thing underneath the pile of pillows and his large noggin, and who has very deep pockets in this neighborhood, left him a five dollar bill. Liam has been so tortured for soooooooooo long by his baby teeth's lack of motivation to make an exit. We were all so happy for him. After showing me his loot this morning, he exclaimed- "Mommy, the tooth fairy must have drank the water I left my tooth in...ew-disgusting!!!!" Yeah- gross tooth fairy.

One of the hardest things about being a mom, I've found, is trying to navigate my way through the inevitable childhood struggles, without worrying too much about my kids. I am generally a liberal parent, allowing my children the freedom to soar through much of life without a lot of restrictions- they climb trees and to the tops of jungle gyms at will, they learn to chop food, boil water on the stove, and bake treats along side of me, they, with permission and supervision, light candles and build fires in our fireplace- fear is something I have wanted them to feel as an authentic reaction within themselves, not as an emotion I have taught them due to my own misgivings. Of course, there are certainly scenarios that come up from time to time where I, as a person whose been on the earth a lot longer, deem it necessary to protect them from elements of danger that do exist in our world. Current statistics show that at least one in four girls and one in five boys is sexually assaulted before age 18 in our country. Having experienced this first hand as a child, and knowing that a vast number of people whom I love were victimized in that manner as well, I have made a very conscious effort to reinforce, in my kids, without provoking unnecessary anxiety, that their bodies are sacred and belong only to them. In order to avoid any awkwardness that might stem from a more formal discussion of this topic, I tend to repeat this mantra, along with instructions on how they can better protect themselves, while we're involved in a generic daily activity, like riding in the van or preparing meals in the kitchen. We practice saying "NO!" in a very agressive tone, and remind each other that even adults who we know and trust will not/should not ask to see or touch our private parts (unless its a doctor or if mommy/daddy feels there is a problem in those areas and ask for permission to check it out). Ideally, it would be wonderful if these lessons would provide my children with enough armor to shield them from ever experiencing the tragedy of child sexual abuse. Realistically, I know that we live in a world where it is generally accepted that children and their rights come second to those of adults, and, as a result, they remain vulnerable to coercion in matters of both body and mind.

A couple of weeks ago, a very dear friend of mine, Mary Anne, was relaying to me a conversation she had had with her 9 year-old daughter. While it did not pertain to the aforementioned topic, I believe that the resulting revelation applies just the same. As her daughter, shaking and sobbing, confided to her the pain she had felt during the previous days, Mary Anne, weeping along side of her, said very humbly but with passion, "Julia, I am so sorry that I didn't listen to you and hear you above the adults who were telling me You should [participate in that activity]. I will never ever do that to you again. You knew it wasn't right for you, and I didn't believe you, and I'm sorry." And all I could think, the entire time she was telling me that story, was what an amazing mother Mary Anne is and what a profound lesson she allowed herself to learn that day. May the rest of us heed that advice with our own kids and have the courage to really hear them, above all the other voices which try to persuade us otherwise,in our lives. I believe very strongly that childhood sexual abuse, as well as many other threats to the welfare of our little ones, could be prevented or certainly decreased, if we changed the way we view the rights of these younger members in our society.

Children should be heard and believed...enough said.



Mary Anne, a soulsister-sage woman whom I admire so much as a parent. I am humbled by her spirit and I learn volumes from her values.




Our awesome kiddos, whom we fret over and love very deeply.

“For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one.” ~ Fr. Alfred D’Souza


It was one of those nights in parenting comedy, here in the ol' Sombar abode. From the start it was chaos, everyone wanting to sleep with mommy this evening. I climbed into bed with Liam, while angrily, Benjamin followed and climbed in too. Then Liam called his brother a "boogerhead" and forced him off of his mattress, onto the floor, while Benjamin screamed as loud as possible that he needed to "sleep wit mommy" and he wasn't going to be laying with "mean daddy" and he hated everyone. Of course, Lily, ever the drama-queen, was proclaiming herself the winner of the "poor-me" prize, since she had no one to sleep with her except Gramma, who was living the high life solitarily confined to her own big bed in the basement. Finally, Liam caved, and Tom and I switched, and all was quiet on the home front. At one point, as I lay next to Benjamin, I started giggling quietly to myself, as I listened to the melodies of the various human beings surrounding me: Tom snoring like a worn-out chain-saw; Benjamin doing his finest imitation of Tom snoring like a worn-out chain-saw and then laughing like a hyena at his own hilarity; Liam humming a version of Do-Re-Me in different octaves; Lily switching from her left side to her right side in a very passive-aggressive "you all are driving me nuts" kind of way.

Tom and I have always laid with the kids as part of the nighttime routine here. Sometimes there are moments of pure joy, where the warmth of your child next to you lulls your mind into a most peaceful and serene state; then there are the times where you wonder if you'll be doing this until they go to college and you wish they didn't need you so much- you feel so exhausted and touched-out from the bulk of your day....

I talked for a short while with Natasha this week, a friend who also lays with her children as they go to sleep, and we lamented for a time, how hard it is to practice this sort of parenting when you feel so maxed by 8pm. How LOOOOOOOOOOOONG it can take to complete the bedtime routine; How much of your life gets ignored as a result. But, in truth, there are times, like tonight, where I know in my heart that I am choosing this routine, not as a result of some dysfunction in my children, but because these are fleeting years- and one day these little people will be big people who won't want me by their side at night anymore. And I will miss them. And for now, once the laughter dies down, and my kids surrender to the pleading of their eyelids for closure, it is a sanctuary of sorts to have them in my midst, with no bickering or whining or zapping of my last bit of self. To have my boys, normally so full of vim and vigor, snuggling beside me, or my daughter who barely acknowledged me with her friends uptown today, vying for her own piece of cuddle time with Mommy, is worth every minute.

My friend Kim and I took our kids to the See Saw Center this morning, in an attempt to escape from the doldrums of a typical January day in Pittsburgh (grey, unbearably cold, sometimes rain or snow- completely unfit for outdoor human existence). While Benjamin, Anna, and Kate scaled the jungle gyms, I glanced ahead of me to see a young woman wearing a newish baby on the front of her body. As I admired her sling, I noticed that, as she circled the room, chasing after her toddler, she was nursing, very openly and with complete confidence in her right to do so. Kim and I conferred about how wonderful it was to see a mother meeting the needs of her baby so honestly and without shame. So, as she brushed by us, we could not help but to praise her, out loud, two nursing moms to another. We so wanted her to know that, what she may have thought was a simple solution to parenting multiple children at the same time, was actually a revolutionary act of courage in a society where women are often made to feel shame and humiliation for bearing their breasts as a means of nourishing an infant rather than for sexual pleasure. As strangers to her, we will never know how our words of encouragement may have resonated within her- maybe she took them for what they were and went about her life in the usual manner; or maybe those words were just what she needed to hear, on a miserable morning, where the simple act of feeding her baby may have seemed insurmountable when coupled with the task of parenting a toddler as well. Maybe in the past she had faced criticism from others who would have wanted her to hide or sit in a dirty bathroom stall (for those of us who have chosen to breastfeed our children, this is certainly more common than it should be), and our kindness felt like an unexpected but treasured gift and would allow her to shine in other ways in her life.

Mother Theresa has a quote whose semantics are so simple but whose intentions, if put to use, are life-changing: "Do no great things, only small things with great love." Genuine words of praise, complements, though seemingly small, allow each and every one of us, no matter our social status or background, to have a positive impact on the whole world, every day.

The four kids and I just spent the day hanging out with one another. My older three were out of school for a teacher "in-service" day, whatever that means. I sometimes get anxious over these holidays, fretting about how I will change my normal routine to accommodate at least 2 more children than I normally have, during the day, and what I can do to make the day special for them (and survivable for me). Everyone seemed low-key this morning, lounging in pajamas, playing in the freshly fallen snow,
working some computer games or catching a favorite TV show. I thought it might be a good idea to make a run to Michaels for some art supplies so we could do some creating this afternoon. The kids really enjoyed being there and found it hard to choose from the amazing array of interesting projects you could dive into. Liam settled on a kit which helped you make rubber bouncing balls, while Lily and Benjamin both chose big boxes of Crayolas and pads of drawing paper. We left there and came home to get to work on our "art". The balls were much better than I had even hoped, and the crayons were good to have (who doesn't love brand-new crayolas). Of course, my current life, as the mother of an infant, doesn't really allow for me to delve into much of my creative juices so I just held Seth and doodled a little. Does anyone know if the color "burnt sienna" still exists in a box of 64? Because I couldn't find it for the life of me, and it was my ALL TIME FAVORITE when I was a kid.

Benjamin and I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, which turned out superbly (all but for the 10 that got scorched on the bottom- should've moved the rack in that oven). Tom was very happy to come home to a plate stacked with those.

I attempted to play house with the kids, in Lily's room, but the moment I saw her comfy bed, I could not resist the temptation to lay down. That was a mistake because I wasn't much fun, after that. I am so tired. I did get the opportunity, playing "Lily" in the house drama (she was me) to really get her with all the things she says to me during the course of a day: (Mama- can I have your computer, pleeeeeeeeeease, Mama can I go uptown with Rachel tomorrow and can you give me $5, Mommy, when are we going to download my itunes for my shuffle?, Mommy can I lay with you....MOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMY, the boys won't leave me alone!!!) We had a great laugh over that.

The boys drove me a little nuts with their constant wrestling and poop/butt talk. I guess that is normal.

All in all, it was a good escape from the daily grind and I was happy to have them with me today, all day. I miss them so much when they are gone.

For all of you children of the seventies and before, remember how sickeningly sweet all the Walton family members would utter "good night..." at the end of each episode- "good night john boy," "good night maryellen," "good night jimbob," and so on. Well, tonight, as we, the sombar family. laid in bed, it was "good night lily," "good night, liam," "good night benjamin," "good night mommy" "good night daddy,"......"MOMMMMMMMMMY....I KNOW HOW TO SPELL BUTT..B-U-T-T!!!" "B-U-T-T!!! THAT SPELLS BUTT, MOMMY!!!" "MOMMY....MOMMMMMY...YOU HAVE A BIG BUTT-HIND MOMMY!!"

That's us. One big happy family- and now, THANK GOD, we all know how to spell BUTT.

My friend Valerie showed up this morning at 9:30 to pick-up Ben for a playdate with her son Jack and she handed me a tall cup off vanilla coffee. She said she knew I wasn't a java drinker but that she thought it might be what I needed after this week of rather tumultuous sleep. And as I sit here sipping my cup o' joe I am warmed through to my soul, not because of the caffeine, its now luke-warm at best, but because of the sweetness it represents, spiritually, for me. Eh? you say...spirit-filled coffee? Well, its more like a sweet-nothin whispered to me from the heavens-echoing that his presence is all around me, even when I can barely lift my head to notice.

Christianity for me has been a long, bumpy road filled with alot of disdain and often, doubt. Events in our world, such as 9/11 and the constant suffering of people around the globe, have left me with serious questions regarding the nature of the God we worship and, at a more basic level, his existence at all. I think that most of us look for evidence of more Biblical proportions when faith is being lost- where's the burning bush, the healing of the sick, the resurrection? But I have come to believe that Jesus speaks to us in smaller ways, creating unexpected miracles that occur during our day, most of which we overlook or brush off as coincidence or kindnesses. I believe that when we've had about enough, he whispers to us sweet nothin's- like a front row parking spot when you can't imagine lugging your four children a hundred yards to get into the grocery store for a loaf of bread, or a complement when you feel fatter than ever and your hair is standing on end, or a letter from a friend amongst a pile of medical bills you don't know how you'll pay, or the smile on a stranger's face when you are miserable....He lives there.

Did you hear the whispers today?

As I was leaving the house to go for my root canal yesterday, I found a mysterious package in my mailbox. Contained within the large envelope were two CDs and a long letter from a friend of mine, here in Pittsburgh, who I rarely see, but whom I have a rather remarkable connection to. I met her at a gym, shortly after we moved here and she and I talked for hours about mothering, personal goals, and such. That winter we would meet up to walk, late in the evenings, sometimes in the ice and snow. Then, as so often happens in friendships, the chaos of daily life with children got in the way and we lost touch. Every once in a while, usually when I've been thinking about her for some reason, we'll run into each other at the grocery store or library, and we'll swear we're gonna get it together....

Tonight as I was driving through town to pick up a prescription, I popped in the CD she'd made and a song came on that I really needed to hear- this the third day of struggling to cope after a night of very little sleep. It is hard, when you are in the midst of challenging times, such as these, where the "what ifs" keep streaming through your mind- "what if my baby never sleeps through the night again?" "what if I can't parent my kids tomorrow because I'm so tired..again?" "what if things never get better and what if I never get a break and what if my kids end up hating me and what if...."

If you need somewhere to lay your burdens, listen to this, courtesy of Kristy and the mystery package.
Click here to play music

Someone please tell me why it is that Seth woke up a hundred times last night, when the house was dead silent, and today, while we are in the midst of a hale-storm of tile work, both downstairs and upstairs- he took the longest nap of his life (and of course, his father is home reaping the benefits of this slumber). Really, people, there was a generator and a host of other big-time power tools, all going at the same time, within 10 feet of his crib. I continue to find motherhood baffling, despite being somewhat of a veteran at this.

And oh, by the way, for those of you following my dental nightmares, after an hour of work in my mouth and enough novacane to put out a dinasaur, the dentist informs me that the damage to my roots is too great for him to fix so I'll have to see a specialist to complete the job.

Anyone wanting to come buy with a blender of margaritas is more than welcome. I'll just sip it on the left side of my mouth, through a straw!

Ben is always cracking me up with his funny inquiries- most of which leave me speechless. The other day, while we were snuggling in the living room, he says "Mommy, when you get old are you going to turn into the tooth fairy?" :)

1. Seth's latest habit of squeezing my breast (depending on the side from which he is garnering his nourishment) as if he were a barbaric mammography device.
2. Ben asking me repeatedly who is on the ten dollar bill and I don't have a clue (due to either a)my current state of mind, b) lack of ten dollar bills floating through my hands, c) all of the above).
3. Proudly heading to the post office with my two youngest boys, two large packages, two small packages, and a bundle of belated Christmas cards this morning, only to be told by the less than compassionate postal worker that the stamps my darling husband gave me to mail my stack of season's greetings were not current. So, as Benjamin made circles as fast as possible around the influx of bewildered customers, I stood at the counter, eyes bulging out of my head, four-letter words just dying to stream forth, affixing added postage to each of the 55 envelopes, hoping not to drop my 6 month old on the cold concrete floor. If you are reading this, and I know your address, your card was most likely in that batch, so- please, when it arrives at your doorstep, read EVERY WORD and appreciate it for ALL that it took to reach you.
4. Lily writing her own early-dismissal excuse this morning, under the (wink wink) watchful eye of her father- which was supposed to allow her to come to Benjamin's school, during her recess, to read a book for his birthday. Instead, the note she devised gave her permission to leave school for the entire afternoon, which I discovered once I attempted to bring her back into the building. Nice going Lily. And yes, my husband, in his only-half-paying-attention mode, is a dingbat.
5. I am having a root canal tomorrow. Enough said

It has taken me a good part of a decade to really understand how detrimental the lack of rest is to the human condition. Much of what our society terms as post-partum depression and PMS, in my opinion, is nothing more than the toll of sleep deprivation on one's mind. Last night, after finally laying my head on the pillow, Seth woke up screaming and remained inconsolable for most of the night thereafter. During those gut-wrenching hours of rocking and pacing and singing and rocking I felt myself starting to go insane- feeling completely overwhelmed by my life's choices, all at once, and wanting to just hop in the van and drive away- a solo road trip into bliss, if you will. For years, when these times of utter chaos would take over, I would sit there, in my dispair, feeling like there was something so wrong with me, that the mere fact that I'd given birth at all was a complete miscalculation of my ability to take care of even one other human being. I would sob, sometimes for hours, to Tom, that we'd made a mistake, that I wasn't capable of being a mother at all and that I was just going to walk out of my life, never to return. Miraculously, or so it seemed, once I'd slept for a few hours, I would suddenly return to my "normal" self again, ready to take on the world, ready to be the mother I'd sought to become. Though it didn't really change the way I was feeling at the time, it did help to know, and to tell myself repeatedly, in the wee hours of this morning, that I was okay and that things would improve once I had some shut-eye. And they did, though its been a tough day. I've heard it said, from time to time, and it totally makes sense, that sleep deprivation is used to turn prisoners of war against their own country, forcing them to say things that they otherwise would be unwilling to devulge. So,it is no mistake, my friends, that motherhood makes even the best of us feel crazy from time to time. Let's give ourselves a pat on the back and know that it will be okay- we just need some sleep!

Liam came up late in the evening and asked to sleep with Tom and I. This is an unusual request from him- for several years now he's gone to sleep in his own bed and slept through the night (this after co-sleeping for the first 18mos or so). Liam is my serious and brooding child- whose needs are not ever-apparent, like some of my other offspring. I consider it a treat when I get to snuggle up to him, though it is usually me who is asking. He is still a very affectionate child, but, now that he's seven, a BIG BOY, he doesn't linger in my arms- its a quick kiss on the forehead and he's off and running. So, last night, for a long time, as he lay in between us, I held his hand and told him, more than once, how much I loved him. I savored his breath, as it moved out of his body and close to me. And I thanked God for the gift that was and is my first son. It is in these rare but cherished moments that I know, deep down in my core, that there is a heaven on earth, and it is in the arms of my children.

I've got the cranks this evening so I figured it might be a good time to devote myself to some thoughts of gratitude. Every so often I get burned-out by my life, and it is easy, during these hours, to forget the blessings which have been showered upon me and my family. To Kim for the comfort food this afternoon (pears, ramen, grilled cheese and a heath bar cookie- yum!)- you are sunshine to my spirit and your sense of humor (and profanity) is a huge sigh of relief; to Christina- a pillar of strength on Parkway- how you do it, I will never know...but your angel wings have already been earned; to Stacey for your messenger services the past few afternoons (do you hear the buzz from the Taboo game- honk honk honk); to Casey and Lila- you could have stayed forever- when are we building that commune?; to jenifly- its as if we never skipped a beat- why aren't you heeeeeeeeeeeeere, when are you coming baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack, what will i do withoooooooooooooooouut you? happy birthday; to Mrs. Nave who takes such good care of Benjamin every day and who likes my reading; to Bonnie- the only woman I know who takes the act of giving and generosity to such a level that I'd have an ornament, engraved, on my front porch, before 10am, the morning after our conversation, just so Seth would celebrate his first Christmas on the tree as well; to Beth for bailing me out yesterday; to Dr. Hildebrandt for talking to me about vaccines like I'm not stupid and for listening like you aren't a Dr.- I'd drive a lot farther to come see you on any day; for Nancy Sanders who has never given up on me and sends me love via the net on a very regular basis (and for not mailing your cards until spring so that I am not the ONLY slowpoke in the world); for Dr. Mark Palmer- who let me 4 kids occupy every inch of your waiting room while you, at the last minute- found the "root" - pardon the pun- of my pain; for my husband who loves me unconditionally and who bursts forth with words of affection all day long- I hope you get the big job next week but I know you'll settle for a big kiss from me if you don't; for sistah Wendy- you will always be our family- ALWAYS; for my cul-de-sac so filled with fun-loving people- we must have won the lottery to be given such wonderful neighbors with which to live; for f.t. who gives us lots of good info and who bothers to read my blog and claims to love it- you all were our first friends here and we so enjoy your company-always; for my parents who put so much thought and effort into caring for my children; for my paid interview last night- how nice it was to be given credence for my opinions and ONE HUNDRED BUCKS; to Mary Anne- such bliss I feel that my world has a you- when are you moving to Pittsburgh?; for Barbara Pryor who reminds me, with cards and letters, how much she misses me; for Kritty on Parkside- the best Christmas card to date.

What are you thankful for this cold Friday evening?

I stole this image from Jen Lemen's blog- I could not have said it more perfectly myself. May we all follow suit. Here's to a new day and a new year and another chance to find another reason...to smile.

We started the new year off with a bang- literally.....Lily, Liam and I danced around our front porch beating on pots and pans and fervently ringing our wind chimes, in harmony with our most spirited neighbors, the Dinardos and the McCabes. My children looked at me as if I'd lost my mind when I demanded that they accompany me outside at 12:55 to get ready to celebrate 2008 with lots of noise. Lily kept worrying aloud "Mommy...what if we are the only ones out here? What if we wake everybody up? We didn't do this last year, Mommy...Mommy, I don't know about this..." Then there was Liam- "Bang pots and pans, Mommy? Are we really allowed to do this? Can we practice first?"


This was the most fun I've had on new years eve, perhaps in my life, and I am so grateful to my awesome kids for trusting me, in the moment, enough to let loose. And I'm so thrilled to live in this neighborhood- where my kids can be kids and so can I.

May 2008 be full of crazy times and happy memories like these.

Goodnight everybody!!!