heaven's kitchen

We tend to play a lot of games whenever we take a ride in the car.

There's the always popular, "I Spy." Followed by, "I'm thinking of an animal..."

For this game, we will describe without fully giving away, any animal that comes to mind. For example, "I'm thinking of an animal that is grey and white and lives in Eucalyptus trees in Australia." Whoever answers "koala" first, gets to go next.

One of the games that I recently started playing with the children has to do with distinguishing between what is naturally occurring and what is man-made. I've explained to the children that anything that is naturally occurring is something that is made by God. Anything that is man-made is something that is made by people.

Simple enough.

Today on the car ride home from swimming lessons, Carolyn initiated the game by asking, "Who made airplanes? People or God?" William and Elizabeth both shouted, "People!"

Convinced that he answered first, William went next. "OK girls. Who made clouds? People or God?" Elizabeth piped up, "People!" And William laughed, "Nooo. How would people get up there in the sky? They would fall down!"

While Elizabeth took a break to eat a handful of animal crackers, I jumped in next.

My question was, "Who made ... strawberries?!"

The children hesitated before I heard shouts of "People!"

Suspecting that this might confuse them a bit, I explained that strawberries are the fruit of a plant and a plant is something that occurs naturally. Although, when we go to the store and we buy a box of strawberries, the box is something that is made by people. People pick the strawberries to put in the box, but the actual strawberries, are made by God.

I could tell Elizabeth thought about that for a moment before she asked, "Who makes ... BANANA MUFFINS?!" Carolyn and William both hesitated before responding, "Uh. God?"

Elizabeth shot back, "No! Mommy makes banana muffins!!" Then she added very matter-of-factly, "God can't make banana muffins." She sounded so sure of herself that I asked, "Why can't God make banana muffins, sweetheart?" And she replied, "Because he doesn't have an OVEN!"

Edited to Add: This afternoon, while I was continuing my violent collapse from trying to maintain a healthy lifestyle baking my all time favorite treat, I thought about my four-year-olds logic. Although she may be spot on, it certainly begs the question, who then came up with O'Henry bars?

They really are heavenly.

And after some discussion with various family members, the majority consensus is that they need to be baked for 12 minutes as opposed to 10. If they stick to the pan > make sure you are using enough Karo Syrup. Did I mention that the Oxo Good Grips Pastry Scraper is ideal for getting them out of the pan and directly in to your mouth as expeditiously and cleanly as possible?

At least I think that's what my sister ... burp! ... told me.

what's in you wednesday

This is going to be a brutally honest post.

I. Am. A. Big. CHICKEN.

I went running two weeks ago this coming Saturday. Before the run, a sports nutritionist addressed our team of 100 members. She stressed the importance of adequate fueling and hydration on the longer runs. Everyone was directed to drink plenty of fluids - and we were told to consume some kind of fuel, like a Power Gel, every 45 minutes.

Following the nutrition instruction, we were led through some stretches and then, we all set off on a 12-mile run.

After I had completed two miles, my legs from the knees down were completely asleep. I stopped and peeled off the brand new compression socks that I had bought, took off my shoes, rubbed my feet for a few minutes, put my compression socks and shoes back on, and took off running again.

Fifty. Maybe one hundred yards later, I couldn't feel my feet again.

So I decided to walk. And walk. And whenever I would start to run, my feet would promptly fall back to sleep, so I would walk. And walk. Apparently, I sipped a lot of water while I walked. Not because I was particularly thirsty, but because I was holding a bottle of water in my hand and at some point, I noticed that I had unconsciously consumed the entire thing.

Although I had been off to a great start and had been keeping up with the more seasoned runners, soon I began to fall back. Eventually, I was passed by every single person on my team. Even the three women who announced to the group that it is their goal to lose over 400 pounds across the three of them.

Because I had been doing so well with my hydration, it was just a matter of time before I had to use a restroom. That immediate feeling of my bladder about to EXPLODE, hit me suddenly, when I was at the five-mile mark.

Our course had taken us along the boardwalk at the beach and a quick check of my surroundings made me realize that there was no where to stop. There were no bathrooms within the immediate vicinity and when I looked at the course map, I realized that my closest bet was at least a mile ahead. So, I did what any rational woman who has birthed four children would do. I started looking for a big sand dune to hide behind.

But when I couldn't find one, I jumped off the boardwalk and started desperately trotting up surface streets. Was there a port-a-potty somewhere?? Do I knock on someone's door?? Do I squat in someone's flower bed?? Do I drench myself and then go jump in the ocean??

All of these thoughts crossed my mind.

Ultimately, I decided to back track to one of the aid stations where I had seen a restroom.

Ultimately, I decided to keep back tracking to the starting point and the team barbecue that was scheduled to begin in ... 20 minutes.

Ultimately, I only completed eight miles. Of which approximately six were walked.

But ultimately, I decided that that was good enough.

Since that time, my workouts have been seriously sub par. Of course I could provide a host of good reasons why I haven't managed to go to the gym more than twice and hit the pavement only once. The situation with my dad has been tough. Work has been extremely busy. The kids have all been sick and I've wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. And my feet fall asleep when I run. And running more than three miles really hurts.

Unlike laying on the couch and eating a bag of potato chips.

The one time I went out running with Charlie, Elizabeth was yelling in to her megaphone, "Daddy! Wait up!! Don't leave us!! Mommy is sloooooow!!!"

My mother thinks that I am out of my mind to even attempt a marathon. Every time I talk with her on the phone she tells me that I'm crazy. "The heck with that! People aren't meant to run for 26 miles. People who are LACTATING aren't meant to run for 26 miles. You've given birth to four children in the past four years. You are CRAZY to be running 26 miles. CRAZY. I think that you should run one mile and then jump on a train to the finish line. Jen, no one will ever know."

I couldn't believe my ears.

My very own mother was suggesting that I pull a Rosie Ruiz.

Which, seeing as I haven't worked out for more than two hours since my twelve eight-mile jaunt where I dang near wet myself, I'm beginning to think her suggestion might not be a bad idea.

That's right.

I'm contemplating cheating at my first marathon. But I don't want to get to the end too fast. So perhaps I'll stop and have a beer or two. Or maybe a hot fudge brownie sundae.

And then I'll dump a gallon of water over my head and run across the finish with my arms over my head.

So, um. How are you doing with your goals?

henry the octopus

Soon after our triplets began talking, I realized that the theories I had heard about girls speaking sooner and with more clarity than boys, was erroneous.


At least in our case.

In our home, William was talking up a blue streak before his sisters were able to string a sentence together. Even now, he is the primary "talker" in the group. Whenever we sit down to dinner, or take a drive in the car - William will give a running commentary on anything and everything that comes to mind.

Unless he is sleeping ... he is talking.

And talking.

And talking.

And whenever I don't understand something that the girls are trying to tell me, I'll ask William to translate. Because although I may not understand what my girls are attempting to tell me, their triplet brother always does.

When the kids had their four-year checkup in October, our pediatrician commented that there was a notable difference in the linguistic ability between our children. I told him about my observations and I added that although I wasn't overly concerned, I did think that perhaps an evaluation by a speech therapist might be necessary. I then added that I love to hear the girls babble on because I think they sound adorable. But I want to be certain that any language delays, are diagnosed sooner than later.

Our pediatrician made a referral and this past month the girls had their first speech therapy evaluation. (It took that long to get them in.)

Carolyn had a few issues with pronunciation. But for the most part, the therapist believed that with time, her language skills will mature. Elizabeth on the other hand, had some significant issues with articulation and various letter combinations.

St.

Th.

Ch.

Co.

And any combination where the word "R" is involved.

Once a week for the next several weeks, we will bring Elizabeth in for a speech therapy session. And we've been instructed to work on various phrases and words at home.

The other morning while I was working with Elizabeth, I noticed that Henry was reciting back everything that I said to his sister. So I picked up my video camera and filmed this clip. (And even though I've watched it 20 times, it still cracks me up. Especially the "Heh?" mid way through.)



Something tells me it's just a matter of time before he is out talking his big brother.

profile of a sleeping baby

Henry doesn't like to sleep too much.

I suspect it's because he's afraid he'll miss something.

Even though he's only 20-months, he really thinks that he's a four-year-old. So if the other kids don't need to lay down and sleep, why should he?

I've crowed enough that when the triplets were his age, they were sleeping 12+ hours at night and taking solid two-hour naps during the day.

Boy oh boy did I think that I was a MASTER for getting a baby to sleep.

You got sleep problems?

You come see me. I'll straighten you out in no time flat.

And then...

I had a singleton.

Who I breastfed on demand and who I cannot stand to hear cry.

And well...

All of my sure-fire tricks for getting a baby to sleep tanked.

I think it borders on hilarious that I was such an expert at sleep training triplets and yet I can't get one little baby to sleep all night to save my life.

But this much I do know: when my little firecracker does finally fall to sleep, I am absolutely lost in the perfection of his features. I am positively swept away by how miraculous his existence is and how the feeling of tranquility that washes over me is similar to what I imagine Heaven to be. And then, I'll usually whisper to anyone within ear shot that if they so much as make a peep to disturb his slumber, I'll choke them with my own two hands.

OK. Seriously? I do put Henry in to his crib at night when he is awake and he is learning to go to sleep on his own. And his nap times are getting better - but not by much. And for the most part, he will sleep from 8 at night until 5 in the morning before waking up to be nursed. And then, he'll usually go back to sleep for another two hours or so, with me - in our bed. And I do know what it takes to get him to sleep all night. I'm just not willing to subject him - or the rest of our household - to it.

Every so often, I will nurse him to sleep. And when I do, I will hold him and gaze at his adorable features. Like his nose. A perfect little button.


There's his forehead freckle that he's had since he was a tiny infant.


There are his gorgeous eyelashes, that are not adequately captured in this photo but truly seem to go on forever.

There's his little mouth and baby soft lips. And when he falls in to a peaceful sleep, one of the highlights of my life is holding him and listening to his gentle breathing.


His perfect ears. And his adorable little side burns.

And then there's his neck. Oh, that little neck with chub rolls. I kiss that neck a hundred times a day if I kiss it once. I blow raspberries in to it at every single opportunity. Or at least every time I change his diaper and whenever I pick him up. Or put him down.

Or he toddles past me.

Or he is standing on the other side of the room, totally unaware of my presence until I scoop him up and kiss him until he squeals with laughter.


And then there are his chubby little hands which open up, whenever he is completely relaxed.

I'm sorry.

Henry, did you have a question?

Yes, as a matter of fact, it does seem that the best opportunity I have for knitting is when all the children are asleep.

Infact, last night when you feel asleep on my lap, I just about finished the baby blanket that I had started back in January.

I plan to post how to "cast-off" later this week. Which might come as a relief to anyone who has been knitting since my last lesson in early February and is wondering how to end their 20-foot scarf.

soul food: good cents

So, we've been going to church. Right?


At the risk of people thinking that I'm turning in to a religious fanatic, over the next few days - or weeks - or months (or whatever I can get around to), I'm going to be writing about some of the absolutely awesome services that we've been attending.

Now, because of my rather non-religious past, I'll admit that at first, I felt a little awkward whenever the minister would start quoting passages from the Bible. But after hearing various verses put in to context for life today, it makes so much sense to me.

I feel positively enlightened!!

This past month, the services that we've been hearing are focused on "Unchanging Wisdom for Changing Times." Each week, the message pertains to topics that are covered within Proverbs. Which, for those who don't know (including me, who didn't know this until recently), Proverbs are a section within the Bible that are essentially a collection of wise sayings.

Last week, the service was about money.

It surprised me to hear that approximately 64% of all couples argue about money and approximately 54% of marriages end in divorce because of money. It turns out instead of couples sticking together until death do them part ... they opt to go their separate ways when debt do them part.

With the economic hemorrhaging that has been occurring in our society over the past year, our minister outlined five principles for financial stability. As I was writing this out tonight, I realized that this is all common sense. But sometimes, it's good to be reminded.

1. Keep Good Records.

Riches can disappear fast ... so watch your business interests closely. Know the state of your flocks and herds. Proverbs 27:23-24

Get the facts at any price. Proverbs 23:23

Two thousand plus years ago - people needed to know the state of their flocks and their herds.

Today, it isn't any different.

For the past 10 years, Charlie and I have been tracking all of our finances in an Excel spreadsheet. Each month, I will add a new worksheet tab and reconcile all of our current expenses. I know exactly how much we owe - when it is owed - to whom it is owed - account numbers - how much was paid - the date it was paid - and any balances that are remaining.

Every so often, I will scan over the past 10 years worth of financial data and evaluate how we spent money in years past, relative to how we are spending it, now. One thing that I recently noticed is that even though our annual income has more than doubled from 10 years ago, we still owe approximately the same percentage out, each and every month.

Granted, we've added four new people to the mix, but it surprises me that our spending has easily kept up with our income. Although seeing as Henry recently slid my Visa credit card beneath our 5,000-pound wall unit, I suspect our monthly expenditures are going to take a rapid nose dive. Which is a good thing because financial freedom does not come from making more, but from spending less.

2. Plan Your Spending.

Plan carefully and you will have plenty; if you act too quickly you will never have enough. Proverbs 21:5

Stupid people spend their money as fast as they get it. Proverbs 21:20.

Over time, Charlie and I have really developed a much better handle on our spending tendencies. Although a few years ago if you had looked up a picture of an "Impulse Buyer" in the Dictionary, you would have seen our mugs.

When we were in graduate school, we used our first financial aid check to buy a brand new Sea Doo watercraft. Of course we bought the top of the line three-seater model that could tow a water skier. But then we had to buy a water ski.

And an inner tube.

And three matching life jackets.

And a tow rope.

And a trailer.

And with the second financial aid check, we bought brand new computers. One for Charlie and one for me. And with the third financial aid check, we used a chunk to put a down payment on a brand new car. And with the fourth financial aid check, we bought a new living room set.

Then we graduated.

And suddenly, all of our financial aid loans came due.

And we cried.

But did we learn from that experience?

HECK NO.

When we were fresh out of school and working full time jobs, we were making more money than we'd ever made in our entire lives. So, we did whatever we wanted - whenever we wanted. We never questioned how much something cost. We traveled and we spent money in excess. At one point, we were paying out over $2,500.00 a month on car payments. But we wanted that convertible BMW. And loaded SUV. And limited edition truck.

Three vehicles that depreciated faster than a half gallon of ice cream in our freezer.

For two foolish people.

Impulse buying.

We were so good at it.

It seems a lot of people are. The minister gave the example of a couple who saved and saved for a vacation in Cabo San Lucas. When they returned, they owned a part of Cabo, via the beauty of a timeshare. And one afternoon of emotional buying.

Everyone should know what you owe; what you earn and where it goes.

And everyone should know that financial stability is not based on on how much you earn, it's based on how you spend it.

3. Save For My Future.

The wise man saves for the future. Proverbs 21:20

Money that comes easily disappears quickly, but money that is gathered little by little will grow and grow. Proverbs 13:11

We've been very careful to save for our retirement every month ever since we've been working. But only within the past few years, have we been diligent to save money in a separate savings account. Because we do all of our banking online, whenever I go online to pay bills, I will transfer money directly from our checking account in to our savings account.

Sure enough, little by little the money that I've been tucking away has started to grow. And it fills me with a sense of satisfaction - and security - to know it's there.

Although we haven't yet read this book, our minister suggested The Total Money Makeover: A Proven Plan for Financial Fitness by David Ramsey.

4. Return 10% to God.

Honor the Lord by giving Him the first part of all your income, and he will fill your barns ... to overflow! Proverbs 3:9-10.

OK. So we don't tithe 10% to the church. Although, if we were to add up the money that we donate to nonprofit organizations (including charities and church) it would probably come close to 10%.

I think that the principle here is that people should be willing to give. It challenges us - because money is so important in our society. But money isn't everything. How much do people really need? Is it necessary to have two cars? A rented storage space stuffed with items you never see or use? Cable television that offers more than 800 channels?

Heat?

5. Enjoy What You Have.

I love this one because it's the Principle of Contentment.

It is better to satisfied with what you have than to always be wanting something else. Ecclesiastes 6:9

Why spend money on what does not satisfy? Isaiah 55:2

Be content with what you have. Hebrews 13:5

Just today, we were talking with one of our neighbors that live in a five bedroom house, down the street. They have three small children and they recently bought a new five bedroom house in a different neighborhood.

Their new house is more than twice the square footage of their current home.

They wanted to know if we would be interested in renting out their current five bedroom house. You know, seeing as we have one more child than they do and yet two less bedrooms in our home. Surely we could use the extra space.

It really surprises most people that Charlie and I have made the conscious decision to remain in our three bedroom house. Even though it's a buyers market and we could probably find a great deal on a much larger house somewhere else, we have developed a deep appreciation for our small, cozy shoebox space.

Yes, it would be nice if we could put the baby in his own room.

Or if we had a separate home office.

Or if we had more than one closet for children's clothes.

And if we had a playroom. And a guest room. And an excess of storage space.

But we don't.

So we are making do with what we have.

We are getting rid of a lot of things - that we don't need - solely so that we can remain in this house. This house that is small enough that we can clean if from top to bottom in a few hours. This house that allows us a lot of flexibility in our careers. This house that allows us to be home with our children. This house that we can comfortably afford on one income.

Of course there will always be things that we want, but we are trying to focus on that which we have and it is liberating in a simple way. Our four-year-olds, however, aren't yet at an age where they grasp the concept of simple appreciation.

Tonight as I was tucking the kids in to bed, I was informed that they really, really want a pool. A pony. Two new princess dresses. A Spiderman costume. A zookeeper outfit. A giraffe. An elephant. A ride on tractor. And a rocket ship. Then in case I had any question, my son added, "A real one, mom. NOT A TOY."

I'll need to look it up, but I'm fairly certain that'll cost more than a convertible.

a dozen universal truths

1. Training for a marathon is very difficult.

2. All any of us have is today.


3. No one lives forever.

4. No one knows when their time is up.

5. Spring brings flowers.


6. Watching children grow makes you aware of just how fast time passes.

7. You are in control of your happiness.

8. Nothing is more important than the people you love.


9. A little kindness can go a long way.

10. Laughter heals your soul.

11. Training for a marathon is very difficult.

12. Having a toddler in the house is the best possible medicine.

this week

Where to begin?

There was the call that I placed to my father on Sunday, that was answered by his 80-year old girlfriend, Mary. The woman that Dad met last year and has been living with him since he returned from visiting us in California, last April.

I wasn't able to talk to Dad.

I haven't been able to talk to Dad for at least a month.

It seems he is always sleeping or on his way to the bathroom. Mary told me that Dad was having an off day. He has been unable to sit down or stand up on his own. He had to have a catheter installed because he was up every 30 minutes at night to use the restroom and he - nor she - were getting any sleep.

But he's doing better now.

Everything will soon be fine.

There was the call I placed to my mother on Tuesday where she made me realize that I was in denial about my father's failing health. It doesn't appear at all likely that he is going to bounce back. It's just a matter of time before he is gone. There was that instant while I stood looking at a partially packed suitcase - and it felt like someone dumped a cold bucket of water over me.

There was the suitcase that I finished packing for the business trip that would take me to Los Angeles for several days. There was the 400-mile round trip drive, that I drove by myself while my husband and four children stayed at home. There was the same song that I listened to over and over again and I cried and cried.

I mourned for my Dad, that hasn't yet left this earth.

I mourned for myself that I was so far away and helpless to do anything.

There was the phone call that I had with my sister, Janet, this afternoon. The call where she told me that she had talked to my brother, Frank, late last night. Frank had told her that something funny is going on up at my father's house. Although my sister Beth has been saying it for months, for the first time, my brother smells a rat.

Unauthorized checks are being written. Strangers are getting a hold of house keys and hiding them in the garage. When Frank tried to call my father's missing cell phone, it was answered by a contractor that had placed a bid to do work on the windows. Health care aides that are supposed to be helping take care of Dad are sleeping on the couch. When Frank dropped in to check on Dad, two of Mary's sons were hanging out in the house.

Why were they there?

Why is it that every time someone calls the house, we are happily told Dad is doing better? When in reality, Dad lies in bed for 22 hours a day completely oblivious to everything. Unable to get up. Roll over. Use the restroom. Unable to feed himself. Unable to drink without a straw. And now, he has an infection - due to the catheter.

Dad wants to be with Mary. That's what he said. That's what he told me that last summer when I was there. He told me again in January when he was put in the hospital. So what if Mary takes every last cent that Dad has? So long as Dad is happy, what does it matter? That's the primary reason Beth was driven out of the picture. That's the reason Beth's Power of Attorney and Health Care Proxy were reassigned.

Because Beth wasn't willing to let Mary take complete control over my father's health care and financial decisions. Even though Beth knew what she was doing. Even though Beth has stood by my father's side through everything that he has been through. Even though she singlehandedly got him through his divorce that was finalized a year ago, yesterday. Beth didn't trust the situation. She suspected something else was up. She was resistant to give any of his financial documents back and almost everyone turned on her.

Everyone cried, "Respect Dad's wishes!"

But did Dad really wish for this?

If Dad was in a clear-state of mind, would he want to lay on a bed in his boxer shorts with his parts hanging out for all the world to see? Would he want strangers taking his house keys and stealing his cell phone? Would he want unauthorized checks written from his bank account? Would he want all of his appointments with world-renowned neurologists that he was seeing in Boston canceled? Would he want to have his medication mixed up, countless times? Or would he want to have his loyal daughter that holds a pharmacy AND law degree to be managing his medication and business affairs?

There are the plane tickets that I have on hold to fly back to Massachusetts, in April. Unfortunately, I can't go sooner because of a two-week court trial where I'll be testifying as an expert-witness and representative for my company. So I'll be in Massachusetts for my birthday. And Dad's birthday, provided he lasts that long.

God-willing, I'll make it there and back again because on my birthday, I'll be turning 38. And if my 10th grade Geometry buddy Will Brown was right, this is the year I'm due to perish in a plane crash.

There was the call I placed to Beth today that I said it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of says or does. As she was planning to do in January, she needs to go to court and have all of the documents overturned and assume immediate control of my father. She needs to be his guardian, regardless of what anyone might say. She needs to move him out of his house and in to her house. She needs to get his medication straightened out. She needs to bring in nurses, if need be. Or, she needs to move up his house - as she had been planning to do last year - before my father met Mary.

He can't be in his house alone - and that house is where he has always wanted to be.

There's this post that I'm writing that I'm sure will generate a ton of controversy from my family. But whatever the case.

Whatever it takes.

Even if toes are stomped upon and battles are waged.

This is my Dad.

And I'm not ready to lose him, yet.

naps are for the birds

For the past few months, the triplets have been resisting their afternoon nap. If we're out running errands or returning from an outing, they will easily fall asleep in the car. But if I put them down to bed with the purpose of sleeping, they generally won't.

Not only are the triplets refusing their nap, so is their little brother. If I'm really lucky, I can squeeze a 60-minute nap out of Henry at some point during the day. There is no doubt in my mind that this child is chronically overtired, but ... I'm not going to write about that, today.

Instead, I'm going to write about my chronic over tiredness. Which I know is aggravated by training for a marathon. And working. And only getting three hours of sleep on Sunday night because I was pulled in to updating my Amazon Store (that has been a lot of fun ... I've especially enjoyed adding descriptions for all the items.)

But mostly, I think my over tiredness is because I have NO BREAK during the day and thus far, the endorphin rush from all this exercise I've been doing hasn't kicked in. I'm constantly going, going, going. And I'm chased after by a baby who always wants to be held and nursed. And I'm picking up after children who thrive on making a disaster wherever they go. And that whole Day Light Savings time "springing forward" thing has wreaked havoc on my schedule.

Last night I fell asleep at around 9:00 while watching a documentary. When Charlie came to bed at 11:00 PM, I woke up when he gave me some pajamas and pried a cup out of my hand.

Even though I got a solid eight hours of sleep, this morning I was dragging. So after breakfast, I took the children for a walk around the block. I thought the fresh air would help rejuvenate me and maybe, tire the kids out. Because we've been talking about different kinds of homes that animals live in, I thought this would be a good opportunity to make a bird's nest.

We gathered sticks and pine needles.


We made a little mound.


We tried to tuck everything in together.


We searched out some bugs for the nest...


And we picked berries for any lucky aviary residents.


We spruced it up with some flowers.


Then, we stuck it in to a tree.

We called for birds to come and live in the nest and after a solid 10 minutes, retreated home slightly discouraged that not a one winged species had answered our call.

We had lunch and I was feeling so tired I thought for sure I could lay down and sleep for the next 10 years. But the kids? They weren't tired at all. And after today, I've decided that there are few feelings worse in the entire world than when you're exhausted and several small children who are under your direct supervision aren't.

So, I read everyone a few stories and put a groggy Henry in to his crib. I brought the triplets outside to the garage to play so Henry could have a quiet house. But mostly so I wouldn't have to listen to him SCREAM for the five minutes it would take before he crashed out. We sat on the floor playing with stuffed animals for about 30 minutes and at some point I must have dozed off.

I fell asleep while sitting upright in Indian style.

When I snapped to - MOMENTS LATER - the kids had quietly emptied several of the storage boxes that had been holding clothes for the summer. They had loaded all of their stuffed animals in to a wagon and were trying to pull it out the side door. Someone had activated the sprinkler system and they had unraveled an entire roll of teflon tape around the cables on the garage door.

Just then, I could hear Henry inside waking up from his nap. When I looked at my watch, I noticed that 45 minutes had lapsed since he had been put down and he was now up.

I collected the baby from his crib and returned to the garage which had been turned upside down. I pulled the partially jammed wagon back in to the garage. I put all the stuffed animals away. I put all of the summer clothes away. I put all of Charlie's tools away. I turned off the sprinklers. Then, I looked at my four children and said, "YOU ARE SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF MY BODY!!"

Then, I felt guilty for telling them that. So I brought everyone in to the house and put on the movie Pinocchio, which I had picked up during an outing yesterday and had planned to put in someone's Easter Basket, next month.

You know, if *I* was a bird, I would be sleeping soundly in that floral nest at the end of our street.

But only after I booted all my hatchlings out.

i'm snoring with my eyes open

Here it is 2:30 AM and guess what I'm doing?

If you guessed sleeping, you'd be wrong.

Although, maybe this is all just a dream.

It started out with me going online to order the paint easel for Lynn and the iPod for Denise at around 9 PM tonight. And then one thing led to another and I was setting up an Amazon Store, which someone had suggested I do a few weeks ago to help with our fundraising efforts.

Then I inadvertently deleted my store at least twice, but only after I had populated it with several of what I considered to be our "Top Picks." And then, I had to stop myself because I could easily spend the next 100 days populating my store with items that have vastly contributed to an improved existence and that I would wholeheartedly recommend to other parents and/or carbon-based life forms.

To the left of my blog in the sidebar is my new Amazon Store. I've called it "The Amazing Trips' Top Picks" because within that store are items that we own and have used and would suggest to others. If you click anywhere on that box - it will take you directly to My Amazon Store.

From there, you will see that I have set up a few different categories that I can absolutely guarantee will change. Tonight I waffled for at least 30 minutes over whether I wanted the category to be classified, "Gadgets we Love", "Things we Use" or "Electronics".

Thirty minutes I spent on that one simple task.

It's no wonder I'm up at 2 AM.

There is some redundancy because a few items show up under different categories and although my OCD is having a tough time with that, my desire to fix the redundancies is trumped by the knowledge that small children (and the sun) will be up soon.

It's never been my goal to make money from this blog. However, seeing as I would really like to continue hosting raffles with various prizes, it would certainly behoove our savings account if we had a source other than our paychecks to fund the "cancer crusader contests."

Honestly? I'm not expecting too much.

But whenever I write about a Favorite Thing Friday, if the item can be found on Amazon (which it usually can), I will link it to my store. And in the off chance someone makes a purchase through that link, a small percentage (~4%) of the sale will go in to the cancer crusader prize coffer.

(At least I think that's what it said.)

The other thing I like about having my own store, is that I get a lot of e-mails from people asking questions about equipment we use. What kind of camera do I have? What kind of stroller do I have? What kind of baby carrier do I have? What kind of sun hats are the children wearing?

Even if people don't chose to buy the items through Amazon, I have all of those things that we use linked in my store.

And there will be more.

A lot more.

Most of the items that are in the store will be recognized as things I've written about before. And since I haven't yet finished boring the world with items that I think work well and make my life easier (and more fun), the shelves of my virtual store will soon be sufficiently stocked.

Toys. Books. Games. Movies. Apparel. Gear.

So there you have it. Another new widget on the side of my blog.

Thrilling, isn't it?

better than my dreams

We're coming up on the five year anniversary of our third in-vitro attempt.

That third in-vitro attempt that yielded our rapid immersion in to parenthood via triplets.

I can't help but wonder if I'll always become so nostalgic around this time of year? I certainly hope that I do. I hope that the sheer awesomeness of our blessings never fades away.

Last night, I found myself standing in the children's bedroom, several hours after they had gone to sleep. I was gazing at their peaceful little bodies in a deep and restful slumber. I listened to their breathing and was swept away in just how strikingly beautiful they are.

I glanced over at the one closet that holds clothes for all four of the kids and the sight of tiny shirts, pants and dresses caught my eye.

There are so many times I look at these clothes in haste.

Taking things out - putting things away - moving things in to storage - moving things in to the donation pile. Often, pulling my hair out because the children will change their clothes twelve times a day and it seems I'm forever hanging things up or pulling clean items out of the hamper that the children wore for five minutes, and then flipped in to the dirty pile.

For several minutes, I caressed their small clothes. I marveled at the little sleeves on button-down shirts. The tiny little pant legs. The cardigan sweaters. I looked at Henry's outfits that are still small enough that they could fit on a doll. Too soon, he will outgrow these baby clothes. The adorable overalls and onesies will be replaced with t-shirts that have dinosaurs gracing the front and pants that will rapidly develop holes in the knees.

These children are growing so fast.

But to think... five years ago, none of them were here.

That was a very dark place in my life. That time when I wanted nothing more than to have children, and yet didn't. That time in my life when it seemed everyone around me was pregnant and having baby after baby after baby.

That time in my life when I didn't know if I ever could or ever would become a mom. I can remember that time so clearly. In an instant, I can transport my mind back to our existence before children and I can feel the aching void.

To see my life now...

To see these children...

To know that they are happy and healthy.

And oh, so loved.

This, all of it, is so much better than I ever dreamed possible.

Almost five years have passed.

But every day, I don't know how it is that I got so lucky.

they're dam smart

(This post has been edited, below.)

A lot of people have recently asked me how our home school experience has been going. And honestly? It's been going great.

Except for when I try to get the kids to do something ... like practicing their letters or writing their name. Then, I might get a little frustrated because they'll slump off their chairs and slide under the table like a bunch of rag dolls. And inevitably, I'll go a little crazy and say things like, "Hold your pencil!! Write your name!! YOU COULD DO THIS WHEN YOU WERE IN MONTESSORI!! Why aren't you doing it now?! Oh Mercy! I'm failing you!! THAT'S IT!! You're all going BACK to school!! GET YOUR BAGS!!"

And then everyone will cry. Me because I feel like I have no clue what I am doing. And the children because their mother is crazy. And ... they'd rather run around the house all day in their underwear than go back to school. This same scenario typically repeats itself at least once every day. And whenever that happens, I usually decide that it's time to move our classroom instruction to the outdoors.

Recently, during one of our neighborhood walks, we spotted a small stream of run-off from someone's sprinkler system.

We followed the run-off down the street and found where it spilled in to the storm drain. We talked about how water flows from higher elevations to lower elevations and will drain to the ocean. We talked about how important it is to not throw trash in to storm drains because they drain straight to the ocean and can hurt the diverse marine population. Whales. Fish. Sharks. And sea anemonenenesnesnees.

We discussed that if we see someone illegally discharging to the storm drain, the correct course of action is to contact the Regional Water Quality Control Board and if possible, provide an address of origin and license plate number for any vehicles observed. And if they don't master the art of holding a pencil ... it'll make filing an official complaint very difficult.

(Edited to add: I'm exaggerating our children's ability to not hold a pencil. They absolutely can. Infact, all three of them can write (almost) their entire alphabet and spell their names. But, they'd much prefer to run around the house like "Tarzan" then sit and practice "school" work. Every so often, I need to remind myself, that playing is exactly what they should be doing at their age. But sometimes, I do get a little uptight when I think of the structure that they had in Montessori versus the free-for-all that it seems we often have at home. That's when getting outside and telling the children about the world around us - helps me realize that maybe I'm not too bad of a preschool teacher, after all.)

We discussed that animals such as beavers build dams that block water flow, but people will build them, too. We discussed how various materials can be used to block the flow of surface water (mainly rivers) and that water can be used for hydroelectric power, recreation, irrigation, consumption and supply.

After rudimentary instruction on the basics of structural engineering, the children spent some time pretending that they were beavers as they set about gathering various materials to block the water flow. Dirts and rock. Pine needles. Small sticks. Pods. Flowers. And last but not least, a "sleeping" grasshopper.

Neighbors stopped by to talk with us while the children excitedly pointed out that water was slowly pooling up and the stream to the storm drain had almost stopped.

When one of the neighbors observed, "That's really damn good!" William looked at him for a moment before responding, "No. It's a really good dam."

what's in you wednesday

Charlie is part of a relay team that will be competing in a half-iron man triathlon at the end of this month. My husband will be doing the the one-mile ocean swim, one of our neighbors will be completing the 56-mile bike ride, and one of Charlie's co-workers is planning to run the half-marathon of 13.1-miles ... most of which are in sand.

To prepare for this big event, Charlie has been in the pool, three days a week, at 6:00 AM training with a Swim Masters group. He joined the group in early January, and after having swum with them for the past 10 weeks, has recently decided that he needed to expand his training to the ocean.

Considering swimming in a pool at night is a big deal for Charlie, swimming in the ocean is an even bigger deal because he gets a little nervous when he can't see what's in the water around him.

Still, over the past three weekends, my husband has made an effort to get out of bed before the break of dawn and join various open-water swim groups. This past Sunday, the whole family tagged along to support him as he made the two-mile ocean swim from the La Jolla Cove to the La Jolla Shores and back again. The two-mile round-trip swim, took him just over forty minutes, which I think is incredible considering it takes me about thirty minutes to run two miles.

When he came out of the water on Sunday he was feeling really good about himself. He told me that he could see and feel a dramatic improvement with his overall strength, endurance and speed. He wasn't nearly as nervous as he had been, even though he did let out an underwater scream when he spotted a diver emerging from the depths and again, when he swam through a kelp forest and thought he saw a fish or more likely, a ravenous Great White shark swimming in the ominous seaweedy abyss beneath him.

After finishing his ocean swim, my husband confided in me that his pool training has been going so well that he is now one of the fastest swimmers in his group. He added, "With Tom riding upwards of 200 miles a week and Carl running a 7-minute mile pace, I wouldn't be at all surprised if our team is the fastest relay."

As he smiled to himself, I could just imagine my fit husband stepping up on the podium to accept a bouquet of flowers and his hard-earned medal.

As he has done for the past 10 weeks, this past Monday morning, Charlie jumped out of bed early and hit the pool. When he returned from his training, I could immediately see that my husband's strong confidence from the day prior, had been diminished. Once he poured his morning cup of coffee, he turned to me with a dejected look in his eyes.

When I asked him what had happened, he told me that when he arrived at the pool, he noticed several new people had shown up to swim with his group. They were younger men, in their early 20's and they were lean. Everyone jumped in to the pool and started swimming and almost instantly, my husband was passed by a pod of young men.

Before he had finished his first lap - they had completed two.

He was looking underwater as they sped by trying to see if they were wearing fins. Or paddles. Or something that would allow them to swim so damn fast. But he couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary and soon, he felt like a cork bobbing along in their wake while he was lapped by men half his age.

When the swim session was over, Charlie asked one of the coaches who these dolphin-like men were? As it turns out, they were Olympic hopefuls for the US Triathlon Team that are currently stationed at the nearby Olympic Training Facility.

I was so intrigued by the physical strength that my husband was describing that I asked, "So, you say that they were fast. But how fast? I mean, if you swam with paddles on your hands - do you think you could keep up with them?" Charlie sipped his coffee and giving me a frown, shook his head no.

So I asked, "What if you had fins AND paddles? Do you think you could keep up with them, then?" He put down his cup of coffee and said, "Jen, listen. These guys were so fast, I wouldn't be able to keep with them if I had paddles on both hands, fins on both feet and a propeller strapped to my ass."

And so it goes...

In every facet of life, there will always be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

But it takes a lot of courage to get out there and go for it, anyway.

And it takes even more courage to flex for your wife who is holding a camera while yelling, "Come on!! Show me your BIG muscles!!"

This coming Saturday, I am supposed to get out and run for 11 (ELEVEN!!) miles with my Team-In-Training group. If I'm being perfectly honest, I really wish we had a propeller I could strap to my backside.

So how are you doing with your goals?

*****

Five weeks ago, we started a fundraising campaign for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Thirty five days later, we have raised almost $8,000.00 for cancer research.

Included within the totals are several checks that have been received and have not yet been deposited to our accounts. But the vast majority of the donations have come from readers of this blog and for that, I am tremendously thankful. But I'm not nearly as thankful as the scores of people who are battling cancer and relying upon research to find a cure.

Tonight, I took all the people who entered to win the Melissa & Doug easel and Melissa & Doug easel companion set and for every $5.00 donation entered them once in to the raffle. Then, I plugged the total number of entries in to an Excel spreadsheet and calculated a winner using a random number generator.

The winner of the easel set is LurkerGirl, Lynn!

Lynn, please send me an e-mail to: TheAmazingTrips(at)gmail.com with your address and I will get that easel off to you as soon as possible. Hopefully, you'll do it before Saturday because I fear that after I run for 11 (ELEVEN!!) miles, I might be incapacitated for the rest of the month.