... and they're off (again)

Today was the first day of school.



We were awoken at 5 AM by William, who had a really, really itchy mosquito bite that required hydrocortisone and his mother to obtain the hydrocortisone for him.  He was then unable to go back to sleep because he was afraid he was going to miss the bus.  Carolyn and Elizabeth were up next.  I think it was around 5:15, but I can't be sure because my eyes wouldn't completely open.  Not even on Christmas morning are our children up as early as they were today.  I tried to convince them that their bus driver wasn't even awake yet - but they wouldn't listen.  And so it came to be we were at the bus stop approximately 30 minutes before the bus even arrived.
 


I don't think I wrote about our awesome bus driver last year ... but he really is one in a million.  Mr. Yani, our amazing immigrant bus driver from Greece, would wait at the top of our hill - every single morning - for our often delinquent family to arrive.  Even though our bus pick up each morning is at 7:50 AM, Mr. Yani would put his huge yellow bus in park and wait for us until 8:00 every day - - snow or rain or shine.  We'd promise him that the next morning we'd be on time and we'd try, but very rarely could we actually do it. He always shrugged if off as no problem, because we're the last pickup on the way to school and even though he waits for us, he still manages to arrive at school with five minutes to spare. One day he told me, "My mother had a lot of children and it was crazy." Then he looked over the edge of his glasses and said, "Crazy but beautiful! Ya?!"



It was because of his graciousness that we only had 12 tardy days last year as opposed to 112.  I feel so irresponsible writing that, but I'm honestly not sure what happens around here in the morning? Even on those days when I wake up extra early and am ready to leave the house on time, my children are caught in some kind of time warp and the next thing you know, it's 7:54:58 and I'm in panic mode because SERIOUSLY? HOW CAN WE BE LATE AGAIN?!  Sometimes I really think they do it on purpose just to see me lose my mind.



When Elizabeth broke her arm, Mr. Yani brought her a stuffed monkey that was as big as she is. And when he would drop the kids off in the afternoon, if Charlie and I were not standing at the bus stop waiting to receive the kids - he wouldn't let them off the bus.  By all accounts, we live in a very safe neighborhood, but on at least two occasions, Mr. Yani put his huge yellow bus in park and waited for the two minutes it took us to arrive because, "You never know what kind of crazies are around and I don't want to let these little ones out of my sight if you're not here. Ya?!"  

Imagine my delight when I saw this morning that we have Mr. Yani as our bus driver again this year.  

And imagine his delight when he saw that we were all there, on time, waiting for him.



I'm hopeful that this is the beginning of a new tradition.

changing gears

This past week, on one of the days that I was remarkably not traveling and in the office, my co-worker dropped in to say hello. As he stood in my doorway, talking to me about the happenings in his life, he mentioned that earlier in the month, he had moved his middle child (and only son) off to college.



Although this is his second child to leave the nest, and he still has an eighth grader at home, he said that this child leaving home has really hit him hard.  It especially hit him when he was cutting the lawn over the weekend because it dawned on him that this was the first time in at least seven years that he, himself, had cut the grass because that had been a chore for his son.  His voice cracked and abruptly trailed off as he said, "I can't believe he's already gone... where does the time go?"



Tonight is the eve of my nine-year-old triplets beginning fourth grade and my seven-year-old beginning first grade.  Whomever said the days are long but the years are short, was right on the money.  As I sat down last night, filling out the stacks of paperwork for the new school year ... the forms were so familiar, it felt like I had just done this exercise ... what, a month or 12 ago?

As I was tucking the kids in tonight, it struck me that in another nine short years, our oldest children, God willing, will be healthy and strong freshman enrolled for their first semester of college. When you factor Henry in to the equation, the empty nest that we will experience over the next 12 years is absolutely mind-numbing.

Stay in the moment, Jen.

Stay in the moment!



Although people have long told me that kids grow up so fast, sometimes I forget how fast that happens until I slow down and take an inventory of where we are on this path. That's when the wet towels that were left on the bathroom floor - and the apple cores that were discarded in the cup holders of the van - aren't the end of the world.



As parents, we really don't have our children for very long at home, and each day that I do have with them, is becoming more and more precious to me.

The dichotomy with me ~ and several of my working mother friends ~ is that at this juncture in life, we can see and sense the incredible growth potential in our careers. But if we continue to pursue the current career track, we will inevitably miss so much of our children growing up.   I've been to training seminars and have read books galore about how women can achieve the optimum work-life balance. But as I've put those tricks and tips in to practice, I find that they don't work very well for someone like me: Someone who, despite the training and coaching, is simply unable to shut one thing off to focus on another. Someone who cannot change their "altitude" from work to life, and life to work, very seamlessly.  There's a lot of turbulence.

As I was pondering all of this recently, I had an epiphany that as a working mother, I can have it all.  Maybe I just can't have it all at the same time.  

In life, you have to be willing to shift your priorities from time to time.



It's been a long process and all consuming decision, but I'm preparing to shift. And fervently hope that when I do, my transmission doesn't fall out on the roadway of life.

the cousins

Every day, for the seven days that we were on Nantucket Island, we made our way to the beach. Even on days when the sky looked like this...

Whenever I go to the beach, I longingly observe those people that are surrounded with an abundance of friends and family.  While I'm always thrilled to be with OUR immediate family, I've always loved the sight of the really big crowds - with 20 or more people - gathered around and playing catch, or paddleball, or digging holes in the sand, or constructing castles, or just sitting around in a semi-circle talking and laughing while the kids run back and forth to the waves.   For the first time that I can ever remember, that exact scene was our reality.



Here I am with two of my four sisters, Beth and Eileen.



We were laughing because I had two sets of sunglasses on my head, and moments earlier, had been asking if anyone had seen my glasses?



Cousins Michael and Tommy, walking and talking ... probably about fish.



A photograph of all the cousins who had gathered on one of the days...



And a silly photograph of all the cousins who had gathered on one of the days. Emily wins the record for the most joyful jump!



A huge fox hole that cousin Tommy dug for his little cousins ... I was moderately to slightly worried that if it collapsed on them, they'd suffocate and questioned the need for shoring.



Cousin Tommy attempting to ease my mind by demonstrating how quickly he could swoop a child out of the pit if the walls were to suddenly collapse.



The most awesome Uncle Clark, taking my nephews in to the water. They were so nervous after the big waves the day prior, he promised them that he would hold their hands and never let go.



When Wyatt heard that Clark was a doctor, and his job is to take care of people, he jumped in to Clark's arms and together they waded out past the wave break.



The umpteenth game of paddle ball.  This game never gets old.



Elizabeth, demonstrating the difference between skate egg cases and seaweed.  None of her cousins believed her that what she'd found on the beach were actually egg cases, until we Googled it. We would be absolutely lost without iPhones and internet access.

This is the face of victory.



A photograph of 12 of the 20 cousins who had gathered on one of the days...

Here they are in birth order...

Here they are in birth order as the tide came in...

Shown: Angela (#2); Emily (#7); Tommy (#11); Diana (#12); Michael (#13); William (#14); Elizabeth (#15); Carolyn (#16); Wally (#17); William (#18); Wyatt (#19) and Henry (#20).

Not shown: John (#1); Sean (#3); Janine (#4); Philip (#5); Mary (#6); Frank (#8); Katherine (#9); and Maggie (#10).  Also not shown are the four and a half great grandchildren.

Here's a silly photograph of the 12 of 20 cousins in chronological birth order... On this day, Diana most definitely takes the cake for the most joyful jump!



Big families are awesome. And family members that break away from life to help you celebrate a wedding anniversary are even more awesome. 

an anniversary to remember

So, our 20-year wedding anniversary was two weeks ago, and that event was what precipitated Charlie and I taking our family on a trip to Nantucket.  

(By the way: Charlie's not in a shadow, he really does get that dark when exposed to sunlight or other forms of ultra violet radiation.  After a few days at the beach, he makes me look like the Ghost of Christmas past.  It's especially fun for my super white-skinned honky self when he holds my pale hand in his brown hand and sings, "Jungle Fever!") 



As I mentioned, our anniversary is also what precipitated a lot of our friends and family joining with us on our Nantucket vacation.  (If you guessed the kids were aptly watching TV {National Geographic} you'd be correct. It would appear children, under the age of 10, are physically unable to divert their eyes  from Nat Geo Wild to look at the camera and say "CHEESE!")



The day of our anniversary, Charlie, who loves to do things up in grand style, put on his whale shorts and went to the store to purchase approximately one-dozen 1.5-pound lobsters.  He also bought a 5-pound lobster that was probably hatched the year we were married (or perhaps much further back) and looked as though he had enough wisdom to tell us a thing or two about life.



We named the BIG LOBSTER Atticus and it was my wish that when the guys went on one of their deep sea fishing expeditions, they bring Atticus and release him to the ocean.



Charlie did not agree with my logic and instead released Atticus along with his 12 little friends to rapidly boiling pots of water.



Sure as I'm alive, I have memories of my parents cooking lobster when I was a child and after I would play with them on the floor while the water heated up - and I would form as deep of an emotional attachment as is possible with a crustacean - my parents would put the lobsters in the pot and they would SCREAM and try to FLICK the lid off with their tails.  

Is there a worse way to go?



Charlie was trying to console me (and the children, who were basket cases of sorrow, especially Carolyn) by telling us that the lobsters are so excited because they are going to the spa and they would be so pretty when they were finished!



For what it's worth, I prayed over every single lobster that went in to the pot, and I did my very best to clean every ounce of lobster meat from their shells.



Tommy, who is not much of a lobster fan, cooked steak and I didn't think twice about what remained of a bovine on the plate. So it seems I really form an attachment to animals that I see alive before they are eaten ... lobsters, fish and gummy bears.



Twenty years of marriage ... its hard to believe how fast time keeps marching on. Like any couple, we've certainly had our share of highs and lows during that span of time, but with divorce statistics as high as 67% ... I think our secret (thus far) is that we try to stay focused on the positive and we strive to have fun together.  



It also helps that he's not only a wonderful father to our children, he's my dark skinned, whale short wearing, lobster boiling best friend.

divine donna

On Wednesday of our vacation, my brother's wife, Donna, and their three boys, nine-year-old twins Wally and William, and seven-year old Wyatt, joined us on Nantucket.



Soon, I'll write about our trip to Massachusetts in July when my brother, Wally, Charlie and I, attended my nephew, Philip's wedding, and Donna stayed home with all seven children, by herself. That reminds me: we need to send her away to a spa for the weekend.



Donna is amazing. She is such a gift to our family and we are so fortunate to have had her in our ranks the past nearly 30 years. She and Wally have never had a formal wedding ceremony - and I recently told my brother that Charlie and I want to throw them a wedding.  We totally mean it ... all they need to do is show up. 

This past week, Donna and the boys showed up on Nantucket and their presence was a highlight of our trip. Because our children are the same age; the twins are nine months to the day younger than the triplets; and Wyatt is five weeks to the day older than Henry - they all get along fantastically. (For the most part.)



On the day that they arrived, the waves were especially huge and very intimidating for little people who are not accustomed to the surf.   I'm not sure if there's someone in this particular wave, while I can't see it now, I wouldn't be surprised if you are able to spot a foot or some other random body part.



Donna, ever the vigilant mother, stood over the flock keeping watch and holding seashells and ocean treasures the children collected.



I also stood over them keeping watch, but while Donna had both hands available to grab children who were pulled in to the waves, I had one hand clutching my camera.



It is because I had one hand on my camera that I was able to capture this moment when a huge wave came in and took out all of the children who had been standing with their feet in the water.



Donna rushed in to grab her son, William, before he was pulled out in to the Atlantic, and in the process, was flipped over by the surf backwash, herself.  This whole thing happened so fast - it wasn't my intent to be snapping off pictures of Donna toppling over head first in to the waves.



In this photo, the only thing you can see of Donna are her arms that are wrapped tightly around William. The rest of her is submerged beneath the rushing sandy water.  This picture perfectly captures the woman who I've known since I was a young teenager. She's always standing by ready to do absolutely anything for those that she loves ... even if it means sacrificing her own comfort.

Right after the big wave, I swapped out with Charlie for "Kid Watch" and retreated to the top of the beach where I continued to take pictures with my soaked camera.



Donna persevered and stayed in the surf with the kids. Which further illustrates why she is not only one of the strongest and biggest hearted women I know ... she's also one of the most waterlogged.