The Weekend of Cakes

We had a very busy weekend. There were birthday parties, a christening, and more birthdays to celebrate. All of these events involved cake. I'm pretty sure that there were still bowls of frosting in my sink when I left for work this morning. (We'll discuss the fact that my dishwasher stopped working mid-cycle at a later date. {sob})

Patrick and his friend, Sean, had a joint birthday party for their classmates this weekend. They agreed on a basketball-themed cake.

Cupcakes to match!

A friend had also hired me to make a Belle cake for her daughter's birthday. I was so pleased to be working on a new princess - I've made a LOT of Ariel cakes!

Finally, we topped off our weekend with Charlotte's christening. This happened to coincide with Patrick's 8th birthday (today) and Charlotte's 1st birthday (last week). I couldn't quite figure out how those three events could be represented on a cake that didn't look completely haphazard, so I made 3 small cakes. Of course, in all the chaos that is involved in making our house suitable for company and getting everyone ready (& finishing all of the other cakes), I didn't know if I could pull it off. They definitely weren't my best work, but I threw some designs on them as quickly as I could before we left the house for church!

Patrick wanted Angry Birds

Charlotte's birthday Owl

Charlotte's little christening cake

It worked out to be the kind of weekend that you need the whole work week to recover from.  But - it was filled with fun and family (& cake!). Now, it's time to scrape those frosting bowls and pray to the patron saint of dishwashers...

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Dress Code

My children - particularly the girls - have a serious issue with dressing inappropriately.  Sometimes, it's lack of fashion sense. Most times, it's a lack of common sense. What I've discovered over time, however, is that I've lost the will to fight it.

This all started when Lucy was about 18 months old. She had a little white dress that she insisted on wearing over every outfit. Jeans, sneakers, sweatpants, other dresses - it didn't matter. That little dress with silver-sequined straps went right over. I stitched it back together a dozen times before finally putting it into retirement.

Sophie, on the other hand, has always had a penchant for wearing bathing suits. In the middle of December, she will happily skip around the house in any number of suits. Trust me - we don't turn the heat up high enough for that kind of attire. So, she merrily runs through the house, bathing suit-clad and sporting a nice bluish tinge.

During the week, the children wear uniforms to school. Every day, they have their uniforms  laid out for them. Once school is over or the weekend arrives, all bets are off. Early on, I decided that I really don't care what the children wear while they're inside the house. It took me a little bit longer before I threw my hands up in surrender when it came to the clothes they wear in public. So much of my time is spent organizing the outfits that all five kids will wear during the week - making sure all parts of the uniform are present and accounted for, making sure the little ones have extra outfits in case they have an accident - that I just can't care anymore when school is over. 

Which is probably why people look at us funny when we're out in public. After they finish counting how many kids I have, they must actually take a look at them. There goes Lucy in some ensemble that she thinks is absolutely glorious - polka dot leggings, a plaid sundress and some tiny sweater to make up for the fact that a sundress doesn't really work in November. Oh, look! Here comes Sophie right behind her - black tights, white dress shoes, and a multi-colored, striped sweater dress. Seriously, folks... get the catwalk ready. Project Runway, here they come.

Needless to say, there are times when the girls look a little foolish. But, they're happy with how they look and I am just too tired to care. Hey, what do I know? Maybe they're just ahead of their time and the "I put together my outfits with my eyes closed" look will be all the rage someday.

HALLOWEEN!

Halloween is crazy. But, it is definitely one of my favorite holidays. Anything that involves ridiculous costumes and ends with enough chocolate to make you sick is a good time in my book. The Halloween hangover is tough on the kids, though. Especially when it falls on a school night. 


My husband and I rushed home from work to start getting the kids ready. Predictably, he then had to run out (to three different stores) because we forgot to buy candy. In the meantime, I ran around picking up the house and getting bits and pieces of costumes on before the grandparents and other family members arrived. By this time - due to extreme excitement - the kids could only speak at decibel levels that rivaled jet engines. I found Sophie in her room crying hysterically. Apparently, waiting until dark to start trick-or-treating was actually going to kill her. As I wrestled Charlotte's chunky thighs into some tights and made sure everyone else had all of their parts, my husband finally returned with candy for the neighborhood children. After working myself into a sweat, everyone was ready and we were off to score some loot. 


Halloween is serious business in our neighborhood. Houses were decorated as though it were Christmas. The streets were teeming with monsters, ghouls, fairies and even a walking Schlitz bottle. Throw in Charlie Brown and his bag of rocks and you've got a traditional trick-or-treat scene. 


Miles lots of walking later - and one stop to the Jell-o shot house for the grown-ups - the kids made it home. The is where they proceeded to dump out their bags (in the middle of a doorway, no less) and sort, trade and share their wares. They gorged themselves on candy while all of the grown-ups ate pizza and fought for their favorite treat.


Way past their bedtimes, the kids were hustled off to bed. They laid their heads on bare pillows since the cases were filled with candy. In the morning, waking them was like waking a college kid after an all-night rave. The only thing that got them up was the promise of choosing one piece of candy for their lunch boxes.


Halloween is a favorite event in our house. Our bleary eyes and chocolate-stuffed bellies are sure signs of a good time had. Now we brace ourselves... the holiday countdown is only moments away!

Patrick as a werewolf

Lucy as a cheetah

Sophie as a "sparkle witch"

Sean as Super Why

Charlotte as a garden gnome

Christmas Socks

Let's talk about my socks. Halloween is a few days away. Some people like to wear cute little novelty socks. I happen to have novelty socks on today. But not Halloween socks. Christmas socks. Sadly, they're a step up from what I normally wear... no socks.


I hate to do the whole "woe is mom" thing, but I often come last in my house. Some days, it's all I can do to get everyone else in the house into clean socks and underwear. I've been known to wake with a start at two in the morning with the heart-stopping realization that one of the kids has no clean uniform shirts. So, I run to the washer and sleepily start a load of whites that I will then dry sometime before the crack of dawn. 


Then, after the chaos that is my morning routine, I prepare to get myself ready (last). I open my top drawer and find the pile of mismatched socks from everyone in the family. I have no matching socks. Unless you count these nice, black knee-socks with little, red Santas on them. In my defense, they do match what I'm wearing today. As long as no one gets too close, I should be able to hide the fact that I am wearing Christmas socks 5 days before Halloween.


My question is this: Where did I go wrong? I am not the most organized person. Who decided to coronate me the Queen of Laundry? Somewhere in our marriage, my husband and I adopted these very Cleaver-like roles. He does the "man's work" - take out the trash, mow the lawn, change the light bulbs, remove the spiders. I do the "lady's work" - cook the meals, bathe the children (on a good day), clean the house (ha!), do the laundry (ha! ha!). Clearly, the laundry situation is out of my control. The dirty pile just keeps growing no matter how many loads I do. The clean pile is still waiting to be folded and put away. And I have no socks. 


I'm thinking there must be some way I can make this a family affair. My oldest is almost 8. Can I teach him to fold? Or maybe someone has developed some sort of "laundry app" for the iPad. That will get my husband interested for sure.


Regardless, here I sit in my ill-timed Christmas socks. Meh... maybe I'll just pretend I'm early for something for once. That would be the day!




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Oops, I Did It Again...

I got a flat tire. Again. Apparently, the laws of Murphy were written explicitly for me. Flat tires do not happen when I'm just hanging out in my house on a Saturday. They happen when I am on my way to work. Or when Sophie has her early-release day from school and needs to be picked up in an hour. I am blessed to have an incredible family support system. If my father-in-law didn't come to my rescue (again), I'm not really sure what would've happened to the kids. I guess they'd still be at school waiting for me to get sorted out.


I have Fridays off. In theory, this sounds lovely. Every Friday, I think I am going to accomplish all sorts of tasks that have been put off all week. I think about the playdates I'll have with friends I haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately, the universe has conspired to make my Fridays a hectic mess. (I've already learned not to go to work on my day off since that is how I got my car towed away. Curse you, street cleaning day!)


This Friday started well. I dropped the kids off at school and headed to my mom's with Sean and Charlotte. Lala was going to make us breakfast. We hung out there for Moonstruck eggs and when I left, there was still plenty of time to get to Sophie's school for pick-up. Or so I thought.


Shortly after leaving my mom's house (with working tires!), I had to pull over on the side of the road because my front left tire was not only flat, but completely devoid of air. Just what you want when there are two little kids in the backseat and three more waiting to be picked up at school. Roadside assistance informed me that it would be an hour before someone could come and change the tire (which turned into 2 1/2). My poor father-in-law came and stayed with my car so I could take his car and pick up the kids. I made it to Sophie with a tire minute to spare.


All of the hassle made me want a coffee. I drove to the nearest Dunkin Donuts only to find that it had been closed for renovations. Seriously?? Who cares what it looks like? Just give me my caffeine! I decided that I really didn't feel like getting the kids out of the car, so I headed to the McDonald's drive-thru for a coffee. When the woman at the window handed it to me, I forgot which car I was driving. My father-in-law's car is smaller and lower than mine. I grabbed the cup and slammed it into the window frame. I spilled a ton of hot coffee all over myself and the steering wheel. The poor woman at the window started apologizing and throwing napkins at me. This - along with all of the other ridiculous events of the day - prompted me to start laughing maniacally. My sister was on the phone with me at the time and is still disturbed by what she could only describe as cackling. To top it all off, the coffee was horrible. I decided to take my sideshow into the local Starbuck's and treat myself to a latte. Clearly, I've got an addiction.


Once my coffee issues were addressed, I headed into the pick-up line at the big kids' school. This is where I discovered that I was going to have to get creative. I was driving a sedan. There aren't enough seats for all of my kids. I eventually did maneuver them into seat belts with some sharing involved. (Thank you to Alice for offering to help me shuttle some of the kids, though.) In the meantime, my father-in-law ended up wasting about 4 hours waiting for my tire to get replaced. It was a ridiculous day for him, for sure. I'm pretty certain he's going to retire from his own private roadside assistance. Unless he wants to capitalize on it and turn it into a legitimate business.


So, we are currently operating with full tires. But, it's the weekend and we have no plans. I'm sure the fates can arrange for something ridiculous in time for Monday morning...

Sleep - The Great Equalizer

I love hanging out with my kids. They're fun, crazy, sweet, and loving. They can also be loud, crazy, obnoxious, and wild. (Yes, crazy made the list twice!) This negative set of traits is seen most often on Friday nights. 

Something happens to my children that makes every Friday - around 5pm - seem like a full moon. One minute they are happily running around playing some cute game that they made up. Then, without warning, someone is screaming, or crying, or otherwise being rude. By the time bedtime rolls around, all hell is breaking loose. These are the moments when I am about to pull my hair out and wonder if I should take up drinking something stronger than beer. 

The Friday night chaos culminates in a total crash at bedtime. The silence that ensues is almost deafening in its depth. It's that moment that makes me realize what it's all about. That moment of watching all of those tranquil faces makes the chaos simply melt away. There is nothing like looking at the sweet, silent face of a sleeping child to see the true meaning of peace. I stroll by each bed and simply revel in it. And then I  brace myself, knowing that, in just a few short hours, all of the craziness - good and bad - begins again.

Charlotte at rest

Sophie often falls asleep wherever she stops.

Patrick, Lucy, & Sean snuggling

The Restaurant Paradox

My children have been raised in restaurants. Patrick went out to dinner for Greek food at The Aegean when he was just four days old. This exposure to restaurants has made the kids understand that there is a certain level of behavior expected when dining out. That is not to say that they are always perfect, but, for the most part, they know what is expected of them.


However, we all know that children, by their very nature, can be unpredictable. Which is why we take steps to try to assure that our restaurant experiences will be positive. We try not to go out too late. We bring items that will entertain them so they will be able to sit quietly. We go to restaurants that are considered family-friendly. All of these steps are taken to attempt an enjoyable meal. Unfortunately, there is a strange phenomenon that has occurred during our last few trips out to eat.


Last week, we decided it would be easier to go out and grab a bite to eat instead of cooking dinner. We'd all had long days at work and school, but we figured a quick trip to the local UNO's would be a fun, easy treat that the kids could handle. We were wrong. The kids were antsy.  Multiple drinks were spilled. Charlotte shouted for the sheer fun of it. Sean bumped his head as he was crawling under the table. In all, it was chaos. The only saving grace was that we had the children trapped seated in a booth waaaaaay in the back of the restaurant, so the only annoyed patrons were PJ and myself.


Then, a few nights later, the whole family was invited out to a sunset cruise in Boston Harbor and dinner in the North End as part of a birthday celebration (all of this after a day of apple picking). I was a little leery of how the kids might be, but I thought it would be fun. Our dinner reservations were for 8:15.  A little late for my kids these days, but still manageable. When we arrived at Dolce Vita, the place was completely packed and they informed us that it might be another 15 minutes until they could seat us. We stayed on the sidewalk and watched people bustling about while we patiently waited. Unfortunately, fifteen minutes stretched into an hour (where I was no longer patiently waiting). PJ and I each had a sleeping little one and the three older children were sitting on the sidewalk entertaining themselves with games on our iPhones. By this point, I was convinced we had a disaster on our hands. After all, my kids could barely handle UNO's, where they actually have a children's menu.


Who in their right mind would take five kids under age eight into a crowded Italian restaurant on a Saturday night over an hour after their bedtime? Then again, whoever said I was in my right mind?


Dinner was fantastic! Our table had a long, padded bench where the little ones slept. The older kids were excellent while they split a steak for dinner and then the girls fell asleep, too. PJ and I got to enjoy a long, delicious dinner, adult conversation, and even stayed for drinks and dessert. (We did find it a little tricky trying to get 4 sleeping children out of the restaurant!)

Sean slept through all of dinner.

The girls lasted until the steak was gone.

Who knows what you'll get from kids? Mine have been raised in restaurants, but they still have their bad nights. They couldn't handle UNO's with crayons and a children's menu, but they had no problem waiting an hour to sit in Dolce Vita and enjoy the sirloin. I suppose they just like to keep me on my toes.




Addendum:


I've been told that I missed a big part of this story. In addition to having a lovely meal in the North End, our dining experience was enhanced by a visit from my drunken sister. Apparently, the old lady doesn't get out much these days. We were fortunate enough to have her big night out coincide with ours in both time and location. She came over from across the street to join us briefly.  She also sat on one of my sleeping children, drank my water, and ate my bread (in the hopes of soaking up some of her alcohol). We even took a picture to commemorate this lovely visit:

Scary how much we look alike!

Consider yourself added, NurseNoodle! ;)