I think that is why I wanted to share this with my children. If something makes me happy, it is only natural  that I would want to share it with the ones that I love most in the world.

We descended upon the unknowing quiet coffee shop for an afternoon snack after playing. I was exhausted and needed my afternoon caffeine hit which I would regret at 12am when I was still wide awake.

“Ok, guys,” I said, “we are going to go into this coffee shop to get some snacks and hot chocolate but there are people here reading and studying, doing quiet things so please try to be quiet.”

The children all nodded at me in agreement.

“QUIET GAME!” one of the children yelled as I opened the door announcing our presence.

“YAY!!!” the other children yelled in agreement, “QUIET GAME!”

I shook my head for when they play the quiet game, no one is ever really quiet. Well, they are quiet for a minute until someone makes the smallest noise and then someone tells them they are out but that noise maker disagrees and the quiet game turns into a screaming match that can be heard seven counties over.

“Shhhh….” I hissed, “No. No quiet game. Just be still.”

I herded them all over to the counter, scanning the menu to find out what choices I could offer.

“What drinks do you have that would be good for kids?” I asked the barista.

“Well, we have hot chocolate or we can make Italian sodas,” she answered.

“HOT CHOCOLATE!” the children screamed, jumping up and down.

“Shhh…” I hissed.

I could feel the glares and eye rolls on my back from other people in the shop. I needed to get food in their mouths if I wanted to keep them quiet.

“We have regular hot chocolate or a caramel mocha, white chocolate raspberry, dark chocolate…” the barista began.

I tried to stop her. That was too many choice…  And the children had heard them all.

“Mommy, I want caramel hot chocolate, no regular, no white raspberry, no… um… regular…” the chorus from the children began.

It was on now, the only thing I could do was get out a pencil and paper I write down each child’s specific choice.

Once each child had ordered, I ask the eldest to find a table so that I could pay. I sent them on their way with their choices of bagel, donut, cookie and bananas knowing that if they were eating, they wouldn’t disturb others too much.

“Your total is $34.59″ the barista told me.

I coughed and stared at her in shock,  ”I’m sorry… you said 34 as in dollars?”

“$34.59″ she corrected.

I could hear the children once again getting restless so I just swiped my card. “These hot chocolates better be laced with sedatives for them to be that expensive,’ I mumbled under my breath.

One by one the drinks appeared and I delivered each small steaming cup to each child with the warning, “Don’t drink it yet. It’s hot and it will need to cool.”

As I turned to grab the last cup, I heard the sound of liquid hitting the floor.

“Mommy, it was hot.” was the response the child gave me who was now sitting on a chair in the middle of a hot chocolate pool.

If my hands hadn’t been carrying coffee, I would have face palmed.

“Did any get on you?” I asked as my first concern was for the child’s safety?

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “B-b-b-but my hot chocolate is gone. I didn’t get to drink any.”

And with that he let out a wail that echoed through the shop. I could feel the level of people’s anxiety and annoyance rise. So I did the only thing I could do.

I mom’d the situation.

I scooped up the wailing child and shoved a donut hole into his mouth to muffle the wail. I picked up the empty cup from the floor, licked it clean and divided the three remaining hot chocolates equally four ways and gave the owners of those drinks my ‘if you want to see your next birthday you will be happy about sharing’ look. I took eighty million tiny square napkins and mopped up the pool of hot chocolate on the floor. Then I sat down as with my children to enjoy my coffee and the coffee shop I love so much.

My coffee…

That’s when I realized in the chaos I had not remembered my coffee, the soul reason I wanted to share my love of the coffee shop with my children.

From now on, I am just going to keep the coffee shop for me and share my love of naps with my children.

That seems a little less messy.

storms ahead, but sun is never far behind 

1…2…3…4… Let’s have a stick war

“wow… look at all the pretty me’s”

 a bubble as big as your body 

bike riding is fun until you can’t remember how to stop 

victim of a bike vs scooter crash

heated ice cream discussions

and a self made mime

“What is french kissing?’ Hayden asked one evening when he was supposed to be writing his spelling words.

I stopped doing the dishes and turned to face him, “Um… um…” I stumbled.

I wasn’t exactly sure how to answer that question and there was part of me that was screaming “NO! My baby can’t be asking questions like that, he is just a baby.” My brain was trying to come up with answer but all I could think about was “Why?” Why did he want to know this?”

We have entered that stage where the children are curious about other people’s bodies and things two people can do together with their bodies.

Don’t get me wrong, they have always been curious about their own bodies, especially the boys. That hasn’t changed. I think I even have an ultrasound picture of one of the boys touching his junk in utero.

No, I am talking about the kids being curious about the bodies of the opposite sex. Since Hayden is almost 9 and the triplets are almost 6, I thought it time to enforce privacy. Everyone must go to their rooms to change clothes, we try to close doors when we pee or bathe and I no longer run through the house naked.

We need to respect each other’s privacy, especially mine, meaning I should get to change my clothes in peace. But this lesson has been a hard one to learn since when I announce that I am going to get dressed, the kids appear all wide eyed and ready for the show. They crawl up on the bed waiting anxiously with popcorn.

Um… yeah, no. Out they go.

I know this is only a natural part of growing up and it’s alright to be curious and want to see naked bodies but that is what encyclopedias, the Internet and National Geographic are for.  Not your mother. Which reminds me, I need to show Claire some pictures of naked girls because one morning while she was sitting at the table, she reached out and grabbed my crotch and announced,

“I just touched mommy’s penis!”

“Claire, I am a girl just like you. I don’t have a penis. And you don’t have a penis.” I clarified but since I said penis one too many times she just ended up in a fit of giggles. I don’t think the lesson stuck.

But I guess when she is the only girl in a house full of brothers, what does one expect? I’m sure there will be plenty of time to set her straight.

Hayden, on the other hand, has taken to these new rules of privacy. While the triplets would like nothing more than to run naked through the woods, Hayden wants to be covered up at all times. He has even asked if he could wear a bathing suit in the bathtub.

I think that is why his question about french kissing surprised me so. I didn’t think that ‘Mr Modesty’ even thought about those kind of things.

Seeing my hesitation, Jeff stepped in to answer.

“French kissing is a type of kissing that two people do. It’s not just a kiss on the lips, it’s when the two people open their mouths and touch their tongues and rub them together.” Jeff explained.

“Ew!” Hayden cringed. To be honest, I kinda did too. The way Jeff explained it, he made it sound so mechanical.

“Why would someone what to do that?” Hayden asked. “Rubbing tongues, gross.”

“When two people love each other, it is a nice way to kiss,” I tried to explain so that someday in about ten years he would want to try it so that he wouldn’t be one of those guys is who is almost 30, still living in his parent’s basement and never kissed a girl.

“Mommy and I kiss like that all the time just before we go to sleep,” Jeff add and then winked at me. “Someday it might be something you will want to try with a girl.”

Hayden shuddered again, shook his head and returned to his homework.

Soon the chaos of bath time and getting ready for bed filled the house and the french kissing conversation seemed to be long forgotten. I tucked Jake, Quinn and Claire into bed and then walked down the stairs to do the same with Hayden.

“Good night, my love,” I said as I leaned in to kiss Hayden on the forehead.

Hayden looked up at me then grabbed my face in his hands. He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue out and went in for a kiss. I pulled away just in time not to have my mouth violated by an 8 year old’s tongue.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I love you and I was going to give you a french kiss.” he said.

I looked at him and said,

“Hayden, I love you too but… you do not french kiss your mother.”

I fumbled with the remote and keyed in the channel. The previous show was finishing the last commercial break. I would make myself a snack, popcorn, and then sink down against the back of the cupboard to the floor to sit and watch.

The theme song just made me smile… “Pop. Pop. Pop Up Video.” I sang along as I crunched on my popcorn. The music of the show filling the quiet of the house.

I wondered what songs would be featured today and watch interesting little tid-bits of random knowledge would fill my brain so there was less room for the important facts school was teaching me.

But deep down in my heart, I prayed they would show my most favorite video. The one that made me believe in love and that a person would do anything for it. The song that I thought was sung by a meatloaf. The song that confused me because it never really answered the what ‘that’ was.

to view the video on YouTube, click here

I took a map reading class in college for one of my PE credits and I had to take it three times because I just couldn’t pass it and ended up dropping the class to take knitting instead.  I just couldn’t get past the fact that when I was told to go north that didn’t mean I had to go literally up. North is ‘up’ on a map but apparently when you are not on a map, it means something else, I think. I don’t know, it’s all very confusing.

When someone tells me to go north or south, I am lost. That means nothing to me. I look at you like you have two heads. I need to be told left, right, up, down and if you could add a few landmarks that would be fabulous.

This has been a slight point of frustration to my husband.

Jeff had picked a new restaurant for us to try for a family night out.  Since I wasn’t sure where it was and I was already driving, it seems like the easiest thing to do to call him for directions rather than fumble around with my GPS.

“So where is this place?” I asked when he answered the phone.

“It’s up by the movie theater.” he said.

That was good, I got that.

“Ok, where by the movie theater, in the same little strip mall?” I ask for clarification.

And here is where things got a little messy because my mathematical man brained husband said to me, “No, the movie theater is north of the restaurant.”

I paused on the phone.

“So you mean that it is up from the movie theater?” I said.

“No, if you go to the movie theater you will have to do a Michigan left and then go south to get to the restaurant.” he said.

“I don’t know what that means. Is the restaurant before or after the theater?” I asked.

“It’s south of the theater.” he repeated himself.

“Does that mean it’s on the road closer to home or like more towards your dad’s house who lives up north?” I asked.

“It’s not near dad’s” he said and I could hear the frustration rising in his voice. “Do you know where the Wendy’s is by the movie theater?”

“Um…” I said thinking, trying to get a picture in my head of the area, “Kinda.”

“The restaurant is south of the movie theater and then west of the Wendy’s.” he said.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, he might as well have been speaking French to me.  ”I don’t understand what you are saying to me.”

I could hear his eye roll through the phone.

“The restaurant is south of the movie theater after you do your Michigan left turn,” he said

I wanted to beat my head of the stirring wheel but since the kids were in the van with me, I thought knocking myself out wasn’t my best plan. This was getting us no where fast.

“Ok, fine. I’ll just drive around and try and find it. I’ll pull into the movie theater and I’m sure I ‘ll see it.” I said in a huff.

“No.” He said, “Then you will be too far north.”

If he said “north, south, east or west” one more time, I was going to scream. My brain hurt and he wasn’t making any sense.

“Whatever. I’ll find it. I’ll stop on the side of the road and ask a hobo if I need to.” I said.

He took a breath. I knew he was calming himself, not one to give up easily, I knew he was going to try one more time.

“Do you remember that restaurant where we had dinner with Jack and Ann a few years ago for New Year’s Eve?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, that place had the best martini’s and Ann wore the cutest little gold and silver heels,” I answered.

“This restaurant is right by where that one was,” he said.

“Oh, I know exactly where that is.” I said, “That is just down from the movie theater. Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

I could hear the face palm over the phone.

“Ok, yeah…” he said through gritted teeth. “See you soon.”

As frustrating as that whole conversation was, it was kind of his own fault. For when you are married to a directionally challenged wife, you should just skip north and south and talk in landmarks and cute shoes.

My darling daughter,

I know that you are aware tomorrow is Mother’s Day. You have been making cards and pictures nonstop for about a week now and I love every single drawing you made. Especially the card where you wrote, “Mom and Dad, I hope you know to love me the most.” The cuteness is just too much to take sometimes.

There are some days I watch you and I feel so blessed to have you for my daughter and then in a about 5 minutes you will do something that will make me was to strangle you. It’s just the nature of the mother/daughter relationship. Don’t believe me, just ask Nonna. I am sure upon occasion Nonna wishes she could clock me up side the head.

Someday, I hope that you will choose to have children. Since you are 5 now, I hope this day is like in 20 years. I would love to watch you as a mother. Learning the joys and trials that come with it.

I can already tell that you will be a  fabulous mother and here are 5 reasons why.

Communication. As a mother, you need to communicate with your children, a healthy open dialog is good. All the books say to get down on the child’s level, look them in the eye and talk to them using words they understand. Yeah, as you know…. I ain’t got time for that. So yell. I know that you will excel in this because you learn from the best, me, and it is your choose form of communication for your brothers.

Sleep. Once the seed of a new baby is planted in your belly, you will never ever ever sleep the same again. Pregnancy sleep is crap and then once that baby is out, the gloves come off and there is no sleeping. I am glad you are getting yourself accustomed to this now since you regularly wake up in the middle of the night to tell me random things like there is a dragon in your room or the house might catch on fire.

Relationships. If you are going to want to have children, you are going to need a boy. I will explain exactly how and why you need a boy in a few years but just know that you will need one. This is an area that you don’t struggle in. Already, you have the men in your life wrapped around your little finger and don’t get me started on all the little boy phone numbers that you bring home from school. Yes my love, there is a chastity belt in your future. Again, I will explain more when you are older.

Housekeeping. This is an area that I have failed you in. I am not a good example on how to keep a house clean. I just don’t like to clean and by the look of your room, I know cleaning will not be your strong suit. Let’s just hope that whoever you choose as a life partner will like cleaning.  If not, I fear you may be featured on an episode of Hoarders.

Avoidance. Every good mother needs to master the skill of avoidance. Don’t want to do the dishes? Avoid them until there are no clean dishes and either the dad does them or just buy new ones. Don’t want to deal with the latest child drama? Grab you phone which will get you to the Internet and hide.  Since you regularly play on the DS to avoid doing what I ask, I have no doubt you will continue to master this skill.

There you have it, my sweet girl. I think motherhood will suit you, again in about 20 years and not sooner. I am sure as time passes, I will be able to add to this list but for now, know that I love you and Happy Mother’s Day to me and all the other mothers out there.

Babies hold an interesting power over adults.

Babies can stop a serious adult conversation mid sentence just by entering the room.

Babies have this way of making adults do what ever they want.

Babies also make adults do ridiculous things.

Like making a group of grown woman suddenly bust out in ‘baby talk’.

I gotta wonder… what do babies think about that. I asked my friend’s baby and she clued me in… kinda.

To view the video on YouTube, click here. 

My mom has been sick, so sick that she landed herself in the hospital but not the hospital that I work at, a different one.

For the past couple of days, my life has consisted of working at a hospital, going home, going to another hospital, going back home and so on and so forth. Add in school functions, a carnival, kids, vomiting cats and a husband and you will know why I am beyond exhausted.

The good news is, she is getting better and should be coming home soon. Praise, Jesus.

One of the days last week, I was not needed at my hospital so I took the opportunity to go and sit with my mom. When someone you love it sick, it’s just good to be there. And since I had planned to spend the day is a hospital, I didn’t mind because at least at the hospital my mom was at, no one expected me to clean up their poop or start an IV.

My mom would sleep on and off between doses of pain medication and I just sat at her bedside. As the morning hours turned into early afternoon, my mom found the remote and clicked on the TV.

I looked up from my book to see what she had chosen to watch.

“Really, you are going to watch the Spanish channel?” I asked, “Did you learn to speak Spanish and not tell me?”

“Sometimes, I just like to listen to them speak,” she said with a sigh.

I giggled and patted her hand as she turned her attention back to the TV and then soon her breathing stilled like someone sleeping. I poured myself into my book as a heated conversation from the TV filled the room in Spanish.

As is the custom in a hospital, as soon as my mom was a sleep, someone came into her room to check on her and ask her the same questions the person before asked. She woke with a start and dutifully answered.

“Oh,” she said once the doctor had left, “I can watch my Soaps.”

She clicked the numbers on the remote and the channel changed as I was transported back in time.

I suddenly remembered when I was sick. I was maybe 8 or 9  and I had the stomach flu. I couldn’t go to school and had to stay home. Being that my mom worked full time, she didn’t always get to stay home with me when I was sick. She would usually get a grandma or a babysitter or take us to the neighbors house but this time, mom stayed home.

Precisely at 12:30pm, my mom walked into the living room and cuddled up with me on the couch. She scooped me up in her lap and clicked on her soaps. Together, we watched. For the next hour, I was in my mom’s arms. My stomach didn’t seem to hurt as much and I felt my body healing.

I didn’t really understand what was going on in the show but I liked it because my mom like it. It made me feel grown up and special to share something she liked. It was a time when nothing else mattered, nothing else was more important than just us being together.

Watching soaps became something special my mom and I shared together. As I got older, we would sometimes play hookie from school or work just to spend the day watching soaps. My sister would often join and it was just the girls wrapped up in the ridiculous world of soap operas.

I couldn’t help but smile at my memory and then realized that something similar was happening now. The soaps were on again and it was me who was holding her while she was sick. I was helping her feel better just being with her.

“Hey, I remember her,” I said looking up from my book, “Wow, I can’t believe she is still on the show.”

“Yeah, I know.” my mom said, “She’s been on for about 30 years and boy, does it show. You’d think she could get some work done.”

I laughed at my mom’s uncharacteristic snark.

“You know what’s crazy,” my mom began, “They have a baby one week and then the next week send that baby off to boarding school and then the next week they come back as a full grown adult while all the other characters are still living the same day.”

I laughed out loud at her observation.

“I know. That is so ridiculous.” I said, “Are they still using the same story line?”

My mom nodded, “Yes, someone who has been dead for twenty years has come back to life, someone slept with her sister’s husband and someone is having a baby but doesn’t know who the father is but it might be an alien.”

I laughed out loud again as my mom drifted back into her drug induced sleep. I left the soap opera on in the back ground and turned back to reading my book.

We were together, one feeling sick and the other just being there and  in the background was the Soap Opera… and that’s all that mattered.

“What was that?” I asked mainly of myself since Jeff as wearing headphones playing a game.

I didn’t expect a response and he only glanced up as I walked up the stairs. I had heard a loud thump which I thought maybe was a child jumping around instead of being in bed sleeping.

When I reached the top of the stairs, all was quiet. I opened the door to Jake and Quinn’s room slowly, hoping to surprise the perpetrator but I found all was still and as it should be expect Quinn’s bed was empty.

Then I knew what the thump was. Quinn had fallen out of bed. This was not an uncommon thing for this child. He needs a seat belt when in bed, always has. Most nights, he will sleep on the floor by choice. Why the floor is more comfy than his bed, is beyond me

I scooped him up, which of course startled him and he began flailing and smacked me in the boob. I laid him back in bed. I tucked him in and turned to kiss Jake on the forehead. I slipped out of the room quietly as I had come in, rubbing my wound. Once in the hall, I decided I might as well check on Claire.

I opened her door a crack and that’s when I heard the first sniffle.

“Claire?!” I said as I opened the door wide enough to walk in. “What is it, honey?”

When she saw me that is when she lost it. Her sniffles because full blown body shaking sobs. Big crocodile tears rolled down her face and snot dripped from her nose. She was ugly crier just like her momma.

I stroked her back and let her get her cry out of her system . I had no idea what was wrong. I thought that maybe she had a bad dream about tornadoes and fires, the two things she fears the most. I also knew that sometimes, a girl just needs to cry.

“H-h-he w-w-w-won’t,” she started in between sobs, barely able to talk, “m-m-m-marry m.e” Then she broken down again.

I hugged her close to my body, confused. “What?” I asked.

“Landon won’t marry me,” she spit out at me and wiped her snotty nose on my shirt.

“Oh honey,” I said hugging her and stroking her hair while trying not to laugh. I could tell to her this was a really big deal and I didn’t want to down play but I also want to convey that 5, almost 6, was way too young to trying to find a husband.

“You and Landon are friends, right?” I asked and she nodded, “Well then why don’t you just play together on the play ground at recess?”

“Because I want to play on the monkey bars with Mason and Landon and he wants to play soccer,” she answered.

“Did you ask him to play on the monkey bars?” I questioned.

“No, I just ran away and he was supposed to know that is what I wanted.” she said and began sobbing again.

It was then that I had a premonition into our future. I saw her and I sitting together in about 10 years, 15 going on 16, her body so big it won’t fit on my lap but me wishing it could as I tried to comfort her because some boy hurt her.

“I don’t understand boys,” she sobbed, “I tell him what to do but he won’t listen.”

“Oh honey,” I said, again trying to hide my smile. I just rubbed her back and let her cry.

When her little body stilled, I kissed her head. She pulled away from my hug and laid her head once again on the pillow. “It will be ok,” comforted. “I promise, it will.”

She sighed.

“How about tomorrow, before recess and before you run away from him, why don’t you ask him to play with you. Ask him to play soccer or on the swings. He can’t read your mind, sweetie. You have to use your words.” I said trying to teach her one of the most important lessons a girl can learn about relationships.

“Ok, momma.” She said.

I leaned down and kissed her head. “Sleep now, my sweet girl. Sleep.”

With her eyelids getting heavy, I slipped out of the room and silently closed the door behind me. “Worrying about getting married at 5 years old. Now that’s funny but oh so sweet.”

Take triplets to school.

Take Hayden to the doctor.

Take Hayden back to school.

Take dad to pick up car in the shop.

Take self to get hair done.

Take self to grocery store.

Take kids home from school.

Take kids to choir practice.

Take kids home from choir practice.

Take meds because my ass is sore from sitting in the car all day.

Sometimes the only this that can make a day spent in the car a better is a full on multi-car ‘car dance’ at a red light.

Watch to find out what happened….

*click here to view on youtube*

Please note, all reenactment car dancing footage was shot in a parking lot, hence the lack of seat belts at time.