It Began with a BBFT

As I sit to write this the morning is calm. The kids have been fed, the breakfast is cleaned up, the washer is running and I have utilized the miraculous sedative of PBS to sedate the natives for just 20 minutes so I can sit and write this while savoring my coffee. Future heather will find it very entertaining so for her sake I have to capture it.

An hour ago things were not quite this way--I had already achieved the individual 4/4 crying level (4/4-I) before 8:00am (that means all 4 had cried at some point) and was advancing towards the ever rare level of 4/4 simultaneous crying (4/4-S) by 8:15.  Jack was in dire need of a bath and Ben and Grace had reached the 'yellow' level of discipline by 8:30am.

It all started with summer evening laziness. Dinner had ended last night and it was time for Bed. The girls have been earning money doing all sorts of things lately and I have been outsourcing like crazy--you name it--cleaning up dog poop (lydia is the best), picking up walnuts (50 cents per trader joes bag), finding lost objects, extensive cleaning projects--even teaching Ben how to pump on the swing (my patience was gone--might be the best dollar I've spent if they actually succeed). Before judgements are passed that our kids only work for $, they all have their base jobs every day (not Jack--he is still baby godzilla caliber when it comes to projects)--the payment is for stuff over and above their regular 'duties'.


Anyhow, last night Lydia had earned 75 cents with her walnut harvesting and wanted to round it out to a full dollar. She was seeking out other jobs and said 'hey, can i get jack ready for bed?'. Ryan and I looked at each other and shrugged, why not? So while we relaxed another few minutes she did it all including the diaper (which I guess had poop in it that they dealt with) and we did not do a double check (or I should say Ryan didn't as he was on final Jack duty). They (Grace helped a little too) did a really good job and even brushed his teeth, read him a story, got him into bed and tucked him in complete with noisemaker  and fan on.

However when Grace went in to get him this morning (I swear they love to do these things and ask to--the morning Jack service is pro bono) she high tailed it out of his room holding her nose and shrieking.  Of course the night his diaper was put on by unsupervised 6 year olds he has an epic messy poop that would have likely breeched even the most experienced diaperist's handiwork but on this morning when it was all askew and BACKWARDS the poop was really just everywhere. On his sheets, on his books, on his pjs, up his back, down his legs--you name it-except the hair--that was spared.

Sooooo, my 10 minutes of summer relaxation on the back patio cost me way more than 25 cents--cost me some laundry, a full on bath and a lot of crying(mainly on Jack's part) and a very stinky upstairs for the better part of the morning.

During the great poop clean up Lydia was grumping, crying and rolling around because she had been woken up earlier than desired (which is the scenario every morning) and Ben was in permanent whine/cry mode about who knows what which is how I nearly achieved the 4/4-S. I tried to get Grace to cry about something just to bump me up to the next level but she only faked a little cry and I don't think that actually counts as a valid 4/4-S situation.

Just to round out the morning Ben squirted himself in the eye with orange juice as he was peeling his clementine for breakfast so I had to lay him on the counter squirting contact saline in his eye as he's screamed "My eye will nevvah stop hoowting! It will hoowt forever !" and he thrashed around nearly knocking dishes off the counter that were drying (did I mention our dishwasher is broken?).

So, now we're all good for the moment. No one is crying, screaming or whining. There are no body substances anywhere they aren't supposed to be (as far as I know) and all is right in the world of parenting for the moment.

Dear Malone College Roommate assigner of 1997

Thanks.

Love, Heather, Sarah, Ryan and Ben and 8 crazy kids


This past spring my college roommate Sarah, her husband and her adorable kids came to visit the Battles clan (I'm just now getting around to posting about it). It isn't the first time they have come--they are stellar travelers despite having young kids--but the first time I have taken the time to blog about it--which is kind of shocking because it's ripe for the blogging--and of course in 10 years we will forget the hilarities and I am here to make sure that they are typed up in black and white for decades to come.

Between the two of us we have:
 One 9 year old

Three 6 year olds

Two 4 year olds

One 3 year old

One 2 year old

to top it all off, 5 of the 8 are boys!

Where do I start? with fighting in the "save the gorillas" wishing well? nail polish on the white carpet? kiddie sword fights? shirtless kids at the zoo rolling around in puddles? Did I mention it pretty much rained all day every day?


So they arrived Tuesday evening just in time for a raucous dinner. We shoved the 8 kids in the dining room while the adults attempted to eat at our little kitchen table (which really meant popping up every 30 seconds to help kids with this or that) but eventually Jack stole the show with his original knock knock joke bit which surprisingly brought down the house and gave us at least a 3-5 minute respite. It was Jack's first attempt at stand up (actually sit down strapped in high chair ) comedy and I think he was overall pleased with his performance. Once the stand up gig was over the kids were off and running.

Literally.

We were sitting around the kitchen table finishing our dinner and trying to catch up in the true style of parents socializing with their kids around which means highly, highly fragmented and interrupted conversation. Yeah, you all know what I mean. Kind of like this

Parent 1: Oh, yes, that is so great to hear about . . . BEN GET OFF THE BANISTER, IT IS NOT A TOY!!!

Parent 2: Yes, so last week it was so funny when . . .   {Insert deafening noise of a Tonka dump truck being rocketed through the kitchen by wild boy which subsequently drowned out the parent--lips moving--no sound } . . . isn't that hilarious?

Parent 3: So, tell me about . . . YOU NEED TO QUIT JUMPING ON THE FURNITURE--WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THE URGENT CARE!

Parent 4: Yes, we had a really good time at . . . IF YOU HIT HIM WITH THAT SWORD ONE MORE TIME--SERIOUSLY--GIVE ME THAT SWORD!

Definitely some "get off the shed moments" which if you don't know what that means google Will Ferrell, and 'get off the shed' (ignore the swear words, focus on the hilarity of what we all experience on a daily basis with our kids--'get off the shed' will soon become an adjective in your house).

The four oldest had a sleepover with Ben yelling his displeasure at having to be in his own room through the wall (Ben CANNOT be trusted for sleepovers--we've tried).

They all slept well miraculously even when the four year old wandered up from the basement to the sleepover room at 5:30am looking for his parents who were actually in the guest bedroom 5 feet away from his sleeping bag. His sweet sister quietly sent him back down to safety and all was well.

Around 7 I started to hear some giggles and activity down the hall at sleepover central (which Ben had joined once he woke up) I laid in bed enjoying the sounds of joviality and then was brought out of my reverie when I heard "underwear party!". Now,  we are pretty relaxed parents so I thought--oh well, I think that's probably ok--and then I heard "Naked party! Ben take your clothes off!" I bolted out of bed and stumbled down the hall to find stark naked Ben shakin' what his momma gave him and a roomful of kids in their undies. So, underwear AND naked parties were banned (it's just too fine of a line really)and the jammies were donned once again.

We invaded Northstar--literally --and enjoyed a morning herding the crew around Easton.

Rain was predicted all week but we checked Thursdays weather and the morning looked clear with rain coming in the afternoon. So we packed our snacks, got some bagels, stoked up on starbucks and were off.

The weather man was wrong.

We made it to the aquarium before the rain hit then zipped over to the manatee nearby and then the skies opened up and we were literally trapped with a manatee. Manatees are cool and all but entertaining they are not. After a few minutes of watching matilda the manatee float around we tried to entertain them in the gift shop and I think the gift shop lady was wishing she brought her anxiety meds with her to work that day. In our defense, who stocks a gift shop at a zoo with a million things a kid could break??  Then the gift shop was flooding, lunch was approaching and we were still trapped with a manatee who, by the way was happily munching her lettuce with a satisfied look on her chubby face while we looked forlornly at the 'NO EATING' signs all around us while clutching our bag o'bagels.  Well, we showed that manatee a thing or two and circumvented the rules by scrunching them all in the vestibule between the double sets of doors as you enter (no signs here!), put their skinny butts on the 6 inch metal frame of the window, and chucked bagels, bananas and squeezie applesauces at them like the fish guy at the market. Problem solved.

The deluge eventually subsided and we were able to make our way to a few other things, and were finishing up our time at the gorilla exhibit when the thunder started to rumble again. We did NOT want to be trapped in the stinky gorilla house! We already had created enough mayhem there---Lydia tried to reach her arm into the cylindrical wishing well (you know--the kind that the coin goes round and round and round until it drops into a funnel at the bottom ) to TAKE money from the gorilla foundation--nearly getting her hand stuck in the process, and two others got into a brawl in the same wishing well and had to be dragged out kicking and screaming.  I swear the gorillas were doing some judgy head shaking at us and we had to get out of there. I checked my radar and we made a run for it.

Then the thunder really got loud and we had to sprint--slogging the kids and a giant stroller through puddles--some laughing--most crying--dodging lightning bolts as our children held tightly to umbrellas pointed towards the sky. At one point, K, who is 6, yelled "NOBODY PANIC!!"

We finally made it to a food court and took shelter for a few. We handed out the last of our rations of bagels and bananas and then they started to mutiny. Crying, whining, chairs falling. You'd think we hadn't fed them in year! Lydia whined  "I told you we shouldn't have gone to the zoo today!" We were 3 against 8 (Ryan missed this adventurous outing) and I feared they were going to best us.

We decided to cal lit quits and started making our way towards the entrance--and the rain started to pitter patter around our brood once again. We booked it to the zoo tunnel thinking we'd be trapped yet again in this concrete tunnel

and then we just decided quit trying--to keep dry that is.

the thunder and lighting were gone and it was just rain, pouring rain. So we let the kids just go crazy.

They splashed, ran, hooted and hollered, and just flat out rolled around in big puddles that were quite likely tainted with kangaroo poop--but we no longer cared and you know what? they had the time of their life!

It quickly changed our day from a failure to--and I quote-- "the best day ever"

We walked our shirtless, drenched, shoeless, dirty gaggle to the car just as the sun came out and my kids rode home in their undies (ben actually decided to wriggle out of his undies halfway home and rode home completely in the buff--needless to say I drove impeccably all the way home)

Later that night we left them all with a sitter (yes, we have an amazing sitter!) and went out for some interruption free adult time. It was like old times complete with the four of us singing along with Journey at the top of our lungs like we were in college again.

The weekend was rounded out by a trip to the conservatory with the moms and girls while the boys stayed home and had impromptu manicures compliments of Benson (I mean what is guy time without mani-pedis?) so he raided my nail polish stash and proceeded to smear polish all over his beige carpet.

The dads were not amused when this little activity was discovered but thankfully it came out with nail polish remover and a good steam cleaning (with our oh so useful steam cleaner that Ryan bought in another emergency involving dog poop, toddlers and carpet).

All in all it was an amazingly fun weekend and I couldn't help but try to capture just a little glimpse of what it's like when we get or clans together. We are thankful for such great friends and it is a gift to raise our little ones together.



So, roommate matcher--you definitely made a good call.

Thanks again.

The Good

We finished a whole year of our homeschool co-op last week. The girls and I survived and even thrived. We actually really enjoyed it and have already signed up for next year. I feel like it's a big hurdle for this mom who would never ever have even considered homeschooling a year ago to say I completed a year of a homeschool co-op. So definitely the good for this week.

In preparation for Easter we dyed eggs and made cut out cookies. Again Battles children, let it be known your dear mother does these things for YOU not for me--it's definitely getting better though. I have honed my skill and technique with the egg dying process and the toddlers are rapidly turning into real and functional kids so it is less stressful on my OCD side and more enjoyable. The pics always depict a perfectly wonderful time but there aren't any sound bites of me shrieking "Ben, you're going to dump the red!" "Ben don't wipe your fingers on the white chair" "Don't touch mommy with that stuff on your hands!" and so on. Just being real here.

We recently re-experienced the conservatory and also saw the butterfly exhibit and loved it. We bought a membership when they were little and I never had the energy or motivation to drag babies and toddlers into a steamy greenhouse but we tried it again recently and really loved it. Lydia especially loved holding the butterflies and wanted to go back the very next day. Jack says 'butter-fly!' in just the cutest way ever and said it about 1,000 times with the same exuberance each and every time. Ben even tried his hand at holding a couple.

The Bad

So this story actually gets cataloged mostly under the bad and a little under the hilarious. We actually had a code adam called on Jack and had Costco--yes, giant Costco--on a Sunday no less--the Sunday before Easter--on lock down! I mean it was only for 5 minutes but how many people can say they were the cause of a Costco lock down even for a few minutes? Pretty impressive I'd say. When I share this fact--about Jack's recent code Adam--most people flutter their hands to their faces and ask in shock and horror  "What did you do? Did you just lose it? How awful!" and I don't know whether to feel guilty or like a bad mom or what when I honestly say "Well it was a little bit scary, a little bit funny and a lot embarrassing".

So what happened? It started with 3 mistakes:

1. We went to Costco on a Sunday

2. We let Jack out of the cart. It was only for the last 20 foot stretch (Costco peeps--from the packaged snacks and nuts to the end of the check out-you know it well)

3. We made the classic mistake of thinking the other parent was watching him--and we let the goody girls (samplers) take us away from our A game honestly.

So Jack was out of the cart and between the sample of popcorn and the end  of the ridiculous line (did I mention it was a Sunday?) we lost him. I don't know if he followed the wrong pair of legs or was lured in by the fresh flowers (the kid loves flowers!) but regardless we looked around and said to each other "Where's Jack?" Now we say this a lot about all of our kids at one time or another but usually spot their little jacket or tutu in a matter of seconds but this time we kept spinning and scanning and looking and there was nary a sign of that little dude. I typically don't panic if they are lost a little longer than usual unless a road or pond is nearby so I was calm and just kept my place in line and shooed Ryan off to look for Jack. A couple of minutes went by and I inched my giant cart and my three accounted for kids toward the front of the line and still no Jack. I saw a Costco man with a walkie talkie walking by and I calmly mentioned that we may have lost our 2 year old and that's when all heck broke loose.

Costco Guy into his walkie talkie: Code Adam, 2 year old boy. Shut down the doors. Ma'am, what was he wearing?

My thoughts: um, really, you need to go there right away? Code Adam?

Actual Heather: No coat, I mean  red coat . . . No, I think Ryan put him in a puffy vest today. Yes, that's it,  a green puffy vest

Costco man: what color pants?

My thoughts: Really? you think I can remember his pants? I was proud that I remembered he had the vest on!

Actual Heather: Um, jeans?

And so everyone who was waiting with their giant carts full of 10 lbs of basmati rice and a cake big enough for the country of Yemen had to wait to get their receipts checked (and a hand stamp if they're lucky) and leave and everyone who was hoping to get in for a sample of chicken pot pie from Lois and and buy their toilet paper for a year COULD NOT!  There was no leaving and no getting in this Costco. Jack Battles had singlehandedly shut it down!

Am I panicking? No, because Costco is filled with families and international restaurant owners and older people looking for free samples--Jack was not likely in danger (unless you count the risk of being mowed down by a sumo sized cart.)

I was actually not sure what was socially appropriate. I had now made it to the front of the line and it was my turn to put my groceries on the conveyor belt but I was self conscious that the people behind me who now knew I had lost my 2 year old, were waiting for a good old fashioned mom screaming panic attack. Should I load my groceries so as not to hold up the line or should I step to the side and start the show of panicking? I didn't know what to do. Of course this whole time the other 3 are asking me rapid fire questions that certainly aren't helping the situation "Where's Jack?" "Why did you lose Jack?" Where is Daddy?" "Can I have cheese pizza and a smoothie?"

Just when I was debating about going to the bad place for show and loading my 3 pounds of baby spinach onto the belt, a Costco worker came strolling up the aisle with little Jack, happy as a clam in his puffy green vest (and Jeans too--I got it right!) holding the hand of a Costco worker. We never did find out how far into the depths of costco he made it.

Code Adam all clear!

Phew!

So, the crimson that had crept up to my cheeks gradually receded, we calmly checked out, clutching or little runner tightly, and I vowed never again to let him out of that baby seat until he's about 15.


The Hilarious

So, the above story definitely counts for the hilarious right? I mean if you are reading this you probably find it funny, especially since it wasn't you or your kid that shut down costco. :)

Ben also had a pretty good quote as I was trying to install batteries into his bubble blower: "Mom, you have to put the batteries in nipple first"