Negro

While we were eating M&M's for dinner (don't judge-sometimes it's ice cream for breakfast), I was reciting the colors in Spanish for Isaiah. Michael asks, "How do you say black in Spanish?" "Negro", I replied.  He turns to his dad and says, "Dad, you're negro." 

He made me laugh. Like fall onto the floor laugh.

BTW, his dad is not negro. Dark though...way dark...too many summer days in the sun :)

Maybe, Perhaps, A Little

It's been a quiet week here at the ol' house. Well, as quiet as 4 kids 4 and under can possibly be...which is not much.
Truth be told, I kind of, maybe, sort of miss all the commotion. The hustle and bustle. The can you's, make me's, take me's, pick up this person, drop off that person, etc. etc. that were getting a bit old. I was so excited to get rid of them start a new school year I forgot how lonely it gets around here without my homies. I like them. I miss them. I love them.

P.S. Remind me to re-read this post 6 weeks into next summer.

True Story, I Swear

Yesterday I registered Lyssy and Manuel for Catechism. While at the CCD office, 2 other families came in with their kids to register for the 2nd year of Catechism. The kids had to recite 4 out of 9 prayers to be able to register for that 2nd year. The office was quiet as the receptionist asked 1 of the boys to recite the Lord's Prayer. He started off great. Then it turned into laugh-a-palooza.

The Lord's Prayer according to the little boy at the CCD office:

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Lead us into temptation, deliver us to evil.
Amen.

It was already quiet but you could hear a pin drop now. Suddenly every. single. adult in that office made eye contact and burst out laughing. Poor kid. He didn't stand a chance.

The receptionist corrected the little boy. And registered him for his 2nd year of Catechism. After he stopped laughing. Hysterically.

P90X

So I've been dragging in writing this little post. 3 years ago, (yes, I said 3) I purchased the P90X (or is it PX90?) exercise program.  I got to know the mail woman very well while anxiously waiting for it to arrive. Almost 2 years ago I finally opened the box. Right before I became pregnant with Z. I did the program for 4 days straight.  After the 4th day I could not move. I swear on everything that I hold holy that I had a fever, my body was in massive pain, my organs were shaking (I could feel everything shake) and my legs felt like rubber.  I remember telling my husband that something was very wrong with me and that the only reason people actually lost weight was because they were too tired to eat anything coupled with the fact that they were too sore to heave themselves up off the floor to walk to the kitchen.  He laughed and in between gasps of air he told me that my body was in shock. Fast forward 2 years.  My neighbor friend kindly brought me her scale (because I'm too lazy to walk across the street) so that I could weigh myself. I was expecting some figure hitting the 200 lb mark.  I was pleasantly surprised at 168.  Thing is, I'm 5'2. Not really. I'm 5'0 when I stand up reeeeally straight so 168 lbs. looks like 200 lbs.  Who am I kidding? Really. Who?

I've decided to write about this for 2 reasons. A being that if I write about it I'll probably be shamed into actually doing it. And B. B is funny and is totally motivated by my friend Audra. You see, Audra also has 5! beautiful babies and is also motivated to lose weight after the birth of princess Audrina. However, Audra has will power. Something I do not posses. Obviously. But back to the motivation. We were talking about losing weight pre-5th baby a while back and she mentioned that by summertime (last year) she wanted to lose enough weight to dress like a ho. Well, guess what. I want to dress like a ho too. Not like woman of the night ho, but more of a conservative, sexy ho. Picture a cross between Salma and Halle. Minus the beauty and height or the Oscar and the money, more curvy-also-known-as-wide hips, long black coarse hair with a few gray hairs, crows feet, Latina, stacked (but in need of a serious push up bra after nursing 5! kids), splotchy skin, pale, dimples (and not in my face cheeks), in need of an eyebrow wax, did I mention I have a 5! kids stretch marked stomach, and a total make-over and wardrobe needed. Whew! I think I have my work cut out for me.

Now, if this is not daunting in itself I don't know what is. I want to lose weight for me. Not for my kids, or my husband (I do have to say that he has never complained or commented on my weight), or anything or anyone else. I want to feel and look good. Again. I used to have that swagger. You know what I'm talking about. That walk, confidence and attitude that made you feel so good. You know, the swagger. I lost it somewhere. Somewhere between too few hours of sleep, and nursing, and eating the mac and cheese the kids left on their plates because I was too tired to serve myself a meal, and the demands of a house, kids, work, life...

I intend to find it. Again.

P.S.: I'm starting P90X?/PX90? on Monday.

Yeah Baby, I Rock

Yesterday was the 1st day of school. Lyssy started 8th grade, Manuel is in 3rd, and Michael is now an official kindergartner. They had a fantabulous day with only complaint: Michael thinks Kinder is too long :)

Aiden, Z, and my daycare kid played all morning, had snack at 10 am, went back out to play, had lunch at 11:45 am and were out by 12. Really. The Gods were smiling on me all day. Now if I can recreate that everyday, I will be a very happy woman indeed. Not to mention happy mom and we all know that's what reeeeeealy counts.

So in the pursuit of happiness, I will try to recreate yesterday again and again and again. Oh, and did I mention, I also cleaned my room, vacummed the entire house, did 5 loads of laundry AND put it away, made breakfast, lunch, snacks, not dinner (Little Cesars in honor of the 1st day of school), did the dishes several times (ok, unloaded and loaded the dishwasher, but that counts right?), nursed Z multiple times as well, did art project with the kids, played with the kids, picked up kids from school, cleaned the bathroom, and other things in between all those other things, all throughout the day? Granted, most of this was done while the kiddos took their nap. Want to know something? I can honestly tell you I do not know how I even got to bed. Or if I brushed my teeth (gross, I know). Or how I ended up in my pj's. I do not remember. Scary. So, in the interest of retaining my memories, I will not be recreating some parts of yesterday. We'll see how long I can last without vacumming. Kidding. Sort of.

Back To School

4 out of 5! kids go back to school this year. 4 out of 5!. Let me say it again. 4 out of 5!. Granted, Aiden doesn't start until September, but I'm not complaining. I will have 3 hours, because Aiden is in preschool, of semi-quiet time. The only ones home will be Z and 1 daycare child. 3 hours people. I've been dreaming about this all summer ;)

And on a totally unrelated note: Football has commenced.

Where else can you drool over handsome watch grown men in tights prance around display their sports prowess on the field? I love it when they spank themselves continuously show super positive reinforcement and I get to loudly cheer them on all while your, ahem, I mean my husband is in the same room. Ladies, get with the program. Football is awesome. (I really do enjoy football. Not just because of the players. Ok, some because of the players. But I like football overall as a sport. And boxing. I love me some boxing. And don't forget basketball. All those players running around all sweaty...)  

I think I just overshared. You're welcome.

Non-Fixable Camera, TMI, and Me Time

Z has not slept today. That should let you know how my day has turned out. My camera, it turns out, is not slobber proof. So until I get a new one, no pictures. I went to the thrift store (it was 50% off today people) because it's the only day I allow myself to go, and my oldest son had to poop 10 minutes into my sacred thrift store time. Z was along for the ride too. So much for thrifting. Back home we go. So until the next 50% off day! I did score a brand new House of Dereon vest for my daughter. New with tags! $5.00! Love it! Wish I were a small...not gonna happen any time soon.

Sniff Sniff

Doesn't this just melt your heart?

I love my boys!

P.S. Since taking this picture a few days ago, these beautiful daisies? (I truly don't know what they are) have succumbed to my black thumb. They are dead. I don't know what happened. One minute they were alive and thriving and the next minute they were shriveled up brown nubs. (Insert snicker here.)

Have a nice day.

Life With Boys

Warning: This post is kind of gross. Just saying.

Michael went to the bathroom. The hallway bathroom which he shares with his siblings. He usually calls either adult to help him wipe so his dad was nearby waiting for him. This is how he saw Michael make a mad dash to our bathroom and so of course he followed him.  His dad asked, "Why did you change bathrooms?" To which Michael replied, "Because it got too stinky in there."

MIA, Summer, and Randomness

Well, where can I start.
I've been MIA.
I have 5! kids.
This summer wiped me out.
Did I mention I also have a daycare? I do. So that means there are between 5-9 kids running around every day at any given time. Did I also mention that I've loved it? Maybe not all the time, but I do. I love having my babies at home at the same time. They get bored. I get annoyed that they're bored. They bicker. And fight. And cry. And I get annoyed. They also love each other. And read books together. And play together. And help each other. And laugh together. It fills my heart with joy. Pure joy. I don't know how to explain how I feel.

I love them. They are healthy, beautiful, smart little people. How God thought I was worthy of them I will never understand. They have shown me how to love unconditionally, forget about the big picture at times and cherish the little things. Nothing is forever. Nothing is set in stone.

I do have to admit, it isn't always easy. Times are tough. Money has to be put away. 5! college educations to pay for - because they will go to college. Budgeting and lists are my best friends. But after all is said and done, they have everything they could possibly want. Or need. They have a mommy who thinks they hung the moon. And that they are simply amazing little people who will grow up to be amazing big people. Who will make good choices. Who will respect life and themselves and their family.

Ok. So I'm rambling. I've just been thinking. That's all. Thinking about what the future holds and how tenuous a hold we actually have. I had an epiphany. At Wal-Mart of all places. In the sippy cup aisle. I was getting some sippy cups for Isaiah because he doesn't like to drink juice from bottles. Or formula. He's cornfed. So I'm there and it dawns on me that I will never again have to purchase sippy cups. I'm talking never, never say never, again. And it made me so happy. Not bittersweet happy, but genuinely happy. I could actually see the next phase of our lives that did not include baby paraphernalia. Does that sound mean? I hope not. I'm happy that after 5! kids I feel complete. I'm happy that it didn't take 10 kids. I'm happy I really enjoyed their babyness and that I didn't want to let go. I'm happy they have stayed babies for a long time. With the exception of 1. He just grew up too, too, way too fast. It's like he couldn't wait to grow up! I'm happy that Isaiah is the last baby. I'm happy to move on to different phases of our lives. All of that at Wal-Mart. Go figure.

That being said, ask me if my soon to be 13 month old still nurses. Yup. Sure does. Do I have any plans to quit anytime soon? Nope. Hypocritical say you? Nope. Just different phases of different phases. I need him just as much as he needs me. His needs are those of comfort over nourishment. If he gets startled, or happy, or hungry, or angry, or simply senses that another sibling is getting too close to his mommy, he nurses. Do I need him to need me right now? I do. I need to feel his chubby little body against mine. I love how his other hand just wraps itself around my shirt as if he could never part with me. How his body sometimes has a mind of its own and he twists and turns trying to get comfortable while never breaking his latch. How he does this deranged ape act, banging on my chest when he wants to nurse and I take too long to produce the goods. How he knows when I try, and I loosely use this word, to put him down in his own crib. In his own room. Because I'd like to sleep 1 night without having him rest his entire body on my pillow. And he won't cooperate. And so I bring him back to my bed all the while asking myself why I didn't just leave him on my pillow and move to the foot of the bed. Again. I need him more than ever because he is the last baby. At least from my loins. Then I remember that it won't last forever. He will grow up and probably not want to be associated with me at all. And that will be ok. Heartbreaking, but ok. So for now, it's the last time i'll buy sippy cups, I'll still continue to nurse, and I'll enjoy all 5! of them. Until the next phase.