Baseball!

Ka-boom! Another hit!


All work.

And a little play...


Slow and steady...but he gets the ball!

Ah. Success.




Check out that focus.
And that serious face as she runs. Don't mess with baseball-Laina.

Mother's Day 2011

Mother's day always makes me happy. I love the funny school-art that the kids bring home. Painted hand-prints, copied poems. I love their faces when they help Rob bring in breakfast in bed and the hugs that follow it. I also love taking the time to appreciate the mothers in my life. I have two exceptional Mothers who inspire, comfort and amaze me. Their devotion to their children and their constant love ensure me that I will always have a place to turn. I am full of gratitude for everything they have sacrificed and taught me through the years.

Today, however, I can't stop thinking about the joy of actually being a mother myself. I really do love it. Every day I look at these three, gorgeous faces and wonder how I got to be such a lucky person. Before any of them came into my life, I struggled with an emptiness that I knew I wanted to fill. I wasn't scared that I would never have children, because I knew I would. I didn't know if I'd ever actually carry one of those children, but I knew we'd get them somehow. Adoption, foster-parenting, invitro. These were all equally acceptable ways of building our family. And even though we did care how we got our babies, we knew that they weren't going to come easy.

We started both the invitro and adoption process at the same time, and sure enough, each one of them came with a good helping of trials and hardship. Ethan's adoption was the waiting game. Waiting for the paperwork and home-studies. Waiting to qualify. Waiting to be chosen. Waiting for the baby to be born and waiting to meet Ethan for the first time. Throughout all that waiting, it was the hour we spent in an empty office, waiting for Ethan's birth mother to sign the papers, after we had already held him in our arms, that was the longest passage of time in my life. But then he was ours. Everyday when I check to see if he is breathing at night (yes, I still check on my big, tough eight year old every single night.) I marvel at how perfect and beautiful he is. I can never get enough of his red hair and matching copper eyes. That child melts my entire heart just looking at him. That was a wait I'd do for the rest of my life if it meant that Ethan would be a part of my world.

Invitro was also a long and difficult road to take. It's true that, in the end, we got all of our babies within a year. The actual process for invitro, however had started so much longer before. Appointment full of shots, medical procedures, drugs, needles. Month after month of hope rising high only to come crashing down to disappointment. I felt so physically ill for a year and a half. Getting pregnant with the first set of twins was a dream come true. Losing them through the ectopic pregnancy, was a painful and emotional time in my life. The physical pain of having my tube burst didn't seem as painful as the loss of having my two little dreams disappear on me.

That sadness faded back when Ethan joined our lives. Then. After having the twins fed-exed from Hawaii to Denver, our two little maybe-babies, frozen in time from our initial invitro run, decided to join our lives. Both of these little angels are so completely different. Alaina, sassy and confident makes me laugh daily. She is as compassionate as she is beautiful and I feel incomplete when I experience something and she's not next to me. And sweet Austin. He has had my heart since he opened his big blue eyes the day he was born.

Their own little road started out so bumpy (and quickly) but I look at them now and I wonder how I got to be such a lucky mother. All my choices, I would do over and over again just so I could have the joy and happiness of checking on my little ones as they sleep at night (of course, I check on the twins too. Nearly seven years old or not.)

Motherhood has been such a wonder for me. Not to say, I'm always wonderful at it. We've had many burnt meals, lots of chaos and way too many tornado-messy rooms. There have been times where I've been so frustrated that I've crawled under my blankets and screamed into my pillow. (I like to call that one a mommy-tantrum) But frustrated or not, I adore my kids.

I've had the unique opportunity to have all of them go through each stage of life at practically the same time. The chubby baby-hands pushing away food. The naked days (diapers-only please) where I wasted all that money on clothes they didn't want to wear. The parks days. And more park days. And even more park days. (I really LOVED going to parks. Seriously.) Starting school. Learning to read. Watching them start to look around them and notice the world outside our home. All at the same time.

When I was growing up and going to school, I had no idea that motherhood was to be my most defining and rewarding characteristic. I have a lot of friends who can't wait to get back to their own lives and accomplish their other goals. I don't begrudge them this...in fact I think it is healthy and a natural to thing to do. It says so in all the magazines. (don't loose yourself...etc. etc.) Both my mothers has urged me to focus a little more on 'me' too. And I know that one day they will be out of the house and I'll be left with plain ol' me again, but I can't help it. I don't want to miss a moment of being a mom. Already those three little monsters need me less and less. So, I'm grabbing on to every scrap of time I can get with them. I'll have time to do other things soon enough. For now, I want to wake up and cuddle the bad dream out of Alaina. I want to wrestle Ethan during his good-night routine. And I want to (although I cringe a little each time) kiss Austin on those big, very, very wet, puckered lips he offers up every time he leaves my sight.

To all those mothers out there, young or old, thank you for your wonderful examples. I'm constantly learning for all you have to offer. Happy Mothers Day!

At breakfast this morning Ethan complained that he didn't have anyone to play with. "The twins always play together and they never let me play with them." We countered with, "They ride bikes with you." "That doesn't count. It isn't a game." So. He's going to be technical. "Yesterday they played legos with you." Ethan was not impressed. "That's, like, only one time ever. That's it. They never play with me."

So, later Ethan started building a kitchen-long track for his pinewood derby car with tinker toys. Austin came in and loved what he saw. "I want to play. Can I help you?" Ethan's temper flared. "NO! Go away! You are going to ruin it. You always ruin everything." Austin responded with an equally quick temper. "Fine! I didn't want to play anyways. I never want to play." Off he stomps. As soon as Ethan was finished I asked him to describe what the different parts of the track were for. "I don't know. I don't want to talk about it." Alaina, seeing a chance to join in came over. "I know what this does..." Ethan, "No you don't!" Alaina, "well, it could..." Ethan, "You can't play here. You don't know what is does. Whatever you say, it isn't working that way." Alaina, nonplussed, shrugs and walks away.

It's time for parental intervention. A time to impart my vast wisdom and reasoning powers. I demand Ethan follow me into my room and he throws himself down on the bed. He speaks before I can. "I don't care. I'm just going to take it apart so no one can ruin it." In a calm, very reasonable voice I start... "You know son. You want the twins to play with you but you push them away with your words and make them feel like you really don't want to play with them." Ethan's frustrated. "No I don't." Me, "When you told Austin to go away, do you think that made him want to play with you or play with someone else who was going to be nice to him?" Ethan, "Well, he breaks everything." Me, "And when Alaina wanted to play you told her she couldn't." Ethan, "She wasn't doing it right."

And around and around we went. It was clear after about five minutes that I wasn't going to be making a dent in the conversation. Getting a little frustrated, I decided to pull out the big guns. "You know son. Like Micheal Jackson say, 'If you want to make a change...you gotta look at the man in the mirror.' You've got to change yourself if you want things to change." That's right. I quoted Micheal. And then I left.

Three minutes later all three of them were racing cars up and down the track he made. Who knew? The peaceful playing lasted a whole ten minutes before Ethan stomped off due to a errant story-line that the twins imaginary characters were involved with. "They never say yes to my ideas. They just said NO to all of them." "All of them?" "Well...one."

I couldn't think of another Micheal Jackson song quick enough to solve that problem. Give me a minute. I'm sure he has some lyrics that would fit...

(By the way...just as I finished writing this blog up, I heard the classical piano CD that I had playing stop, and Micheal Jackson, Greatest Hits start up. Wonder who just did that.)



On a different day, a day when my house was clean, I realized that I hadn't heard a peep from the kids for awhile. Starting to worry, I quickly step into the living room and see this.
Three little kids just quietly reading on the floor. Aw. Heaven.

We went to a really terrible restaurant tonight. It was recommended by someone who obviously has never tasted good food in her life. We're talking burnt fried rice (even I don't do that...all that much) , gooey gross orange chicken and of all random things, corn-dogs which sadly enough was the only decent thing on the menu...and I'm sure the only thing they didn't cook. As I was driving home, I expressed my displeasure with the food.

me - I am never going back there again, what terrible food.
ethan - well, you shouldn't say that. They did their best and when someone does their best than you shouldn't say they did a bad job.
me - well, I don't think they did their best, I think they didn't try hard enough. And if that was their best, maybe they shouldn't be selling food.
Austin - I bet they don't got a cookbook.
Ethan - Yeah, you always need a cookbook if you are going to be cooking people food.
alaina - Maybe they cook that way for their kids which is okay because they're your kids but maybe that isn't okay to be selling at a store but just okay for your kids.
austin - maybe they should be changing that store to a different kind of store.


For anyone who know me, I love books. I own what I would now consider a respectable children's library. To curb my impulse buying, I have banned myself from the scholastic orders that used to be my downfall. Now I only really struggle in the crazy used book store in town. I won't go for months but the kids beg and beg to go. Every now and then I give in and we return with an armful of needed literature.

Austin shares my love of books, only he has mostly limited his tastes down to lego-books. If you have ever read a lego book you'll know that they are the most boring, poorly written books ever written. Austin loves them. Yesterday he came in begging me to buy one. I stood firm and told him there was no way we were going to order anything. (He's caught on to Amazon.com) He begged. He cried. He is very dramatic. Finally Alaina got exasperated and said, "Listen Mom. Why don't you have Austin do his chore and then you order the book. It's a win-win." Tell me, how is a child doing a chore he's suppose to do anyway, and me still buying a book a win for me? She's trouble.

When I picked up Alaina from school she told me that her friend was going to be moving. "She doesn't know when or where but she's movin' alright. She's also getting three new people in her family. David, Aidan and someone else I can't remember."
I'm curious. "Is her mom getting married?"
"Yes."
"Well. That's a nice way to add more people to your family."
Alaina thinks about this. "You know. You could do that. All you would have to do is find a guy who already has a bunch of kids and then get married to him." Alaina really wants a sister.
"Hmm. I guess. But in order to do that, we'd have to get rid of Daddy."
Alaina's eyes go wide. She hadn't thought that one all the way through. "No! Don't get rid of Daddy! He's the BEST!!! I don't need any other kids in our family anyway. We're perfection."

I agree. Daddy is the best. And we are pretty much perfection.


Ethan is loving baseball. He plays in the mud and in the rain. He doesn't care. He never complains. When we are at the twins games, he spends the entire game playing catch (if I'm lucky it is with his best friend who has a sister on the same team. If I'm not so lucky...it's with me.) He has rarely been struck out. Most of his hits are grounders, but some go right over every one's heads. During his last game he caught a guy out. He was so shocked. This is the way he told it to me. "I was standing there and I saw the ball coming straight for my head! So I closed my eyes! Then, WHOOMP! I looked down and it was in my glove. Awesome!" Hopefully he'll watch the magic happen next time.

Austin hates baseball. Absolutely detests it. He prays for rain (little pill...it looks like Someone is listening) The only way I got him to stick it through to the end of the season was to promise him Piano lessons right when the season ends. He's been begging me for lessons for a couple of months. That and lego-sculpture classes. I think I'll have better luck finding a piano teacher.

Alaina really likes baseball. Not obsessively. But when she is out on the field she is pretty intense. I think more than anything, she loves the competition. She stands out there, legs crouched and mitt ready, in the field staring straight at the hitter at all times. Total focus. However, don't worry about her getting too serious. Every time she makes it to first base after she hits the ball, she does a victory dance. Hips swaying, fingers poking the sky and huge grin on her face. First base is her stage. (She also looks incredibly cute when they put her in full catcher's outfit. You can hardly even tell there is a child under all that equipment.)