We did it!
Bruce and Deb just got back from their trip and I'm happy to report that we at home all survived, and what's more, have full use of our faculties to tell about. I would venture to say that we are all happy, even. Who needs extreme sports? I'm into Extreme Babysitting.
Today there was more blood and gore than usual. It started when Noah came wailing into the house with blood smeared over his bare tummy and mouth and dripping from his fingers. Naturally I was a little alarmed, but instinctively felt that it wasn't as bad as it looked. All that blood came from two small cuts on his fingers where he had picked up a piece of glass outside. Definitely sad for him, but no severed arteries! I cleaned him up and gave him candy to try and quell the anguished cries. We didn't have any small bandaids, so I tried bandaging the little injured fingers with paper towels and tape. Poor little guy. It worked ok for a while, but he got upset eventually and ended up having an early nap. Which was not the end of the world.
Twice during the day I had a thorn in the flesh interrupting my housecleaning when my nose started streaming blood. Nosebleeds are very rare for me, so I felt a little freaked out laying flat on my back with toilet paper stuffed in my nose and blood draining down my throat. While making supper I stuck wadded kleenex up my nose to prevent further deluges, which was entertaining for the kids at least. "What is that thing in your nose, Cass?" I couldn't keep a straight face when they looked at me.
In the afternoon we had a casualty of war when Tucker got beaned in the nose/forehead with a grenade, er, metal spray can during a battle outside. It was a large one, and it left a nice bruise and some scratches on poor Tuck's head. I gave him a plastic baggy of ice to put on it, and I think he recovered pretty quickly, because next time I saw him he was contorting his mouth around the corner of the bag trying to slurp ice water out of the tiny hole he had made.
Those were the sum of our crises for the day. I am tired but marvelling at the energy God supplied this week. I really enjoyed the kids. We had our moments of course, but hopefully we made some memories to treasure before I leave in two weeks' time. I can't believe these little sprouts will all grow up into men and women (woman, I should say). That will be something to see.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
I Want Some Too
This morning around breakfast time:
Clark: *Babbling* "I didn't make any sense."
Me: "No, you didn't."
Clark: "Well, if some people make some sense, they can give it to me."
Now we're talkin'!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
The Crowes' Nest
Yesterday Bruce and Deb left for London/then Ireland and the kids and I are here for the week. "A whole week with no PARENTS!!!" Bronwyn chortled gleefully, to which I said, "Sounds like a Disney movie," and Deb replied, "Scary!"
Nothing Disney about this actually. Chores, chores, chores. Scrub the floors with toothbrushes! I want those tiles clean enough to eat from! (Not that they don't already...)
No nothing like that, either. They have just enough chores to keep them out of trouble, and just enough free time to have some fun. We will make ant farms with all the ants scurrying about the house (as Rodge said, "We already live in an ant farm.") And we'll make homeade ice cream (or try again anyway.) Tomorrow night will be pizza-movie-night.
The kids like to sleep in the basement, since there is no air con. in the house and it's much cooler there, so this morning, because it was completely dark, the five older ones didn't get up till 8:30 or so. Even Noah, who was upstairs like I was, slept till 8. Surprise! I wonder if luck will hold out for another 12 hour night...
I love these kids and I'm so glad to be with them. (Ask me about this again next Tuesday) Parties are fun, beaches are good, conferences are nice now and then, and camps and classrooms are great too, but what I love best (closely seconded by car and plane trips) is a happy home. The family unit is a most fascinating creation.
Here's what the little birdies have been up to:
Noah is still potty training, so basically he spends his waking hours in a rather messy cycle of drinking and peeing, sometimes on the toilet and sometimes not. He does a good job of alerting us when he needs to go, but unfortunately he has some tummy trouble at the moment, so there have been as many as five or six underwear changes in an hour...
The lifesaver for me is that Broderic and Bronwyn are getting paid (by their ingenius parents) for every time they take Noah potty, which cuts my job in half, and has them jumping at every chance and practically begging Noah to go.
Clark has reconciled himself to having me in the house. A few days ago he told me, in some little mood that took him, "I don't want you in this house, Cass!" He got in trouble with his dad, and since then he has been really angelic. Every few hours he reminds me of his repentance and his changed life. "I really like you in this house, Cass. I do." And more often, "I very love you, Cass, I very love you."
Tucker only has six more lessons left in "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons," which I've been going through with him. He's getting so fast and so good, and he claims he wants to finish before his parents get home. I reminded him that this will take extra work, and his eyes got big and he nodded his eagerly and assured me that he still wanted to do it.
Last night Brent came in with an interesting contraption, composed of wood pieces nailed together and a stick with about ten rubber bands wrapped around it. It's an airplane, and he's trying to get it to wind up and fly over the house. Someday that kid will invent something great.
Bronny has been a right-hand helper. She keeps the other kids in line :)
Rodge and I are reading "The Giver" by Lois Lowry in the afternoons. I read it for the first time a month or so ago after finding it in the Crowes' book shelf. I loved it and I think he is enjoying it too.
I wanted to write something more "inspired," but Noah is doing interesting things in his pants about every ten minutes, so things aren't exactly flowing. I mean, for him they are, but...
Nothing Disney about this actually. Chores, chores, chores. Scrub the floors with toothbrushes! I want those tiles clean enough to eat from! (Not that they don't already...)
No nothing like that, either. They have just enough chores to keep them out of trouble, and just enough free time to have some fun. We will make ant farms with all the ants scurrying about the house (as Rodge said, "We already live in an ant farm.") And we'll make homeade ice cream (or try again anyway.) Tomorrow night will be pizza-movie-night.
The kids like to sleep in the basement, since there is no air con. in the house and it's much cooler there, so this morning, because it was completely dark, the five older ones didn't get up till 8:30 or so. Even Noah, who was upstairs like I was, slept till 8. Surprise! I wonder if luck will hold out for another 12 hour night...
I love these kids and I'm so glad to be with them. (Ask me about this again next Tuesday) Parties are fun, beaches are good, conferences are nice now and then, and camps and classrooms are great too, but what I love best (closely seconded by car and plane trips) is a happy home. The family unit is a most fascinating creation.
Here's what the little birdies have been up to:
Noah is still potty training, so basically he spends his waking hours in a rather messy cycle of drinking and peeing, sometimes on the toilet and sometimes not. He does a good job of alerting us when he needs to go, but unfortunately he has some tummy trouble at the moment, so there have been as many as five or six underwear changes in an hour...
The lifesaver for me is that Broderic and Bronwyn are getting paid (by their ingenius parents) for every time they take Noah potty, which cuts my job in half, and has them jumping at every chance and practically begging Noah to go.
Clark has reconciled himself to having me in the house. A few days ago he told me, in some little mood that took him, "I don't want you in this house, Cass!" He got in trouble with his dad, and since then he has been really angelic. Every few hours he reminds me of his repentance and his changed life. "I really like you in this house, Cass. I do." And more often, "I very love you, Cass, I very love you."
Tucker only has six more lessons left in "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons," which I've been going through with him. He's getting so fast and so good, and he claims he wants to finish before his parents get home. I reminded him that this will take extra work, and his eyes got big and he nodded his eagerly and assured me that he still wanted to do it.
Last night Brent came in with an interesting contraption, composed of wood pieces nailed together and a stick with about ten rubber bands wrapped around it. It's an airplane, and he's trying to get it to wind up and fly over the house. Someday that kid will invent something great.
Bronny has been a right-hand helper. She keeps the other kids in line :)
Rodge and I are reading "The Giver" by Lois Lowry in the afternoons. I read it for the first time a month or so ago after finding it in the Crowes' book shelf. I loved it and I think he is enjoying it too.
I wanted to write something more "inspired," but Noah is doing interesting things in his pants about every ten minutes, so things aren't exactly flowing. I mean, for him they are, but...
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Get Off the Drug
I have concluded that chic flicks should be outlawed. They are detrimental to the mental and emotional health of females, (as well as physcial, as they provoke irrational consumption of chocolate.)
A chic flick is a narcotic that gives a high for approximately 1-2 hours and then drops the user with a sickening thud into reality where real guys don't kiss girls the first time they meet them and romance take months and years, not minutes and hours, to develop. Those most susceptible to this drug are females between the tender ages of 12-24. Its effects include abundant sighing, an apathetic attitude towards life, antagonism and resentment towards well-meaning males, bouts of moaning and weeping, and a curious attraction to chocolate.
I've decided to get off this drug. I will stick to fairytales. In fairytales, damsels cheerfully clean houses for incorrigble dwarves. They wait, shut up in high towers for undetermined amounts of time. They sometimes fall into a coma for years on end. There is a lot of encouragement in that. There must, after all, be some hope for the rest of us.
Also, fairytale princes are chivalrous, and they never expect vulnerable maidens to compromise their honor. Nay, good folk, they are sworn to protect a lady's honor at all costs. Not so in Hollywood.
I will go home and find my Jane Austen and The Princess and the Pea. Not to mention the Bible, that great True tale of chivalry, justice, and undying passion from which all beautiful fiction is derived.
A chic flick is a narcotic that gives a high for approximately 1-2 hours and then drops the user with a sickening thud into reality where real guys don't kiss girls the first time they meet them and romance take months and years, not minutes and hours, to develop. Those most susceptible to this drug are females between the tender ages of 12-24. Its effects include abundant sighing, an apathetic attitude towards life, antagonism and resentment towards well-meaning males, bouts of moaning and weeping, and a curious attraction to chocolate.
I've decided to get off this drug. I will stick to fairytales. In fairytales, damsels cheerfully clean houses for incorrigble dwarves. They wait, shut up in high towers for undetermined amounts of time. They sometimes fall into a coma for years on end. There is a lot of encouragement in that. There must, after all, be some hope for the rest of us.
Also, fairytale princes are chivalrous, and they never expect vulnerable maidens to compromise their honor. Nay, good folk, they are sworn to protect a lady's honor at all costs. Not so in Hollywood.
I will go home and find my Jane Austen and The Princess and the Pea. Not to mention the Bible, that great True tale of chivalry, justice, and undying passion from which all beautiful fiction is derived.
Friday, June 12, 2009
In Memoriam
This is a poem to honor Masha's and Gaven's chickens, lately slain on the Ulyaniki farm in a brutal and senseless manner by a wild animal. For the sake of the poem, a few facts have been exaggerated :)
The Great Ulyaniki Chicken Massacre
The ghostly moon shone wicked white
The grass flashed silver in the light
A foreboding calm hung in the night,
As the fox crept nigh to the henhouse.
Unsuspecting, the roosters did peacefully sleep
The hens, they uttered nary a peep
As the wily fox through the grasses did creep
Toward the slumbering fowl in the henhouse.
In the silent night, the silence broke!
The fowl in a frenzy of fear awoke
The eggs, they scrambled, white and yolk
With fright that night in Ulyaniki.
The fox attacked and severed their heads*
Feathers flew and blood ran red;
A score of chickens soon lay dead
By the light of the moon in Ulyaniki.
The fox seized his prize and away he shot,
Leaving the headless chickens to rot
And has not since been seen or caught,
The phantom fox of Ulyaniki
This gruesome tale I do relate
To remember the truly terrible fate
Of those innocent fowl, the good and the great—
The fallen on the fields of Ulyaniki.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To Masha and Gaven, my heartfelt condolences.
*Whatever the creature was really did bite their heads off, leaving most of the chickens in the henhouse. Weird or what?
The Great Ulyaniki Chicken Massacre
The ghostly moon shone wicked white
The grass flashed silver in the light
A foreboding calm hung in the night,
As the fox crept nigh to the henhouse.
Unsuspecting, the roosters did peacefully sleep
The hens, they uttered nary a peep
As the wily fox through the grasses did creep
Toward the slumbering fowl in the henhouse.
In the silent night, the silence broke!
The fowl in a frenzy of fear awoke
The eggs, they scrambled, white and yolk
With fright that night in Ulyaniki.
The fox attacked and severed their heads*
Feathers flew and blood ran red;
A score of chickens soon lay dead
By the light of the moon in Ulyaniki.
The fox seized his prize and away he shot,
Leaving the headless chickens to rot
And has not since been seen or caught,
The phantom fox of Ulyaniki
This gruesome tale I do relate
To remember the truly terrible fate
Of those innocent fowl, the good and the great—
The fallen on the fields of Ulyaniki.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To Masha and Gaven, my heartfelt condolences.
*Whatever the creature was really did bite their heads off, leaving most of the chickens in the henhouse. Weird or what?
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Flower Girl Ruined My Wedding
This morning was one of those mornings when I wrapped myself in my fuzzy blue blanket and huddled in bed fervently praying between snooze alarms for the will power to rise from my bed. Sinus trouble lately.
Anyway, I did get up, as I always inevitably do, and I put on some normal sort of clothes and decided to brighten up a little by wearing my favorite earrings-- the dangly silver ones my 6-year-old friend Eric gave me for my eighteenth birthday. I hastily put them on and left.
Deb's sis is visiting here this week, and they seem to be having a blast together. Today they went to Kiev to spend the night and have some girl time, so I came to watch the kids today, because Bruce was in Kiev for the day. So I greeted them, said bye to them, and had continued on my merry way for an hour or two before I looked in the mirror and saw, to my acute embarressment, that I had two different earrings in my ears!
I've only done this one other time that I remember (and it was worse, because I went out to breakfast with my friend Chelsea, who notices those things, and we were in public). Of course, I may have done it countless other times and not ever realized it. If you ever see me with two different earring in my ears, please graciously let me know.
This incident pretty much describes my life at the moment. Actually, lots of exciting things are happening right now, and I'm glad. But I tend to hover more or less in a state of dazedness. I think I'm tired.
Masha and I had several girls over at different times during the past week for supper, or tea, or to spend the night, or both or two at once or all three. I got a lot of Russian practice, and found that I was even wanting to try speaking Ukrainian one night when I felt particularly relaxed. Russian seems harsh to me, but I love Urkainian. It's much more musical, and although the alphabet is almost the same as in Russian, the few changes soften it and keep it from looking so intimidating. I feel like it's a little too late now to be learning Ukrainian.
What else has been keeping me so busy? How could I have forgotten! I almost got married on Wednesday night! Sorry, it was all so sudden I didn't have a chance to send out announcements or anything. In fact, I was planning to mail the bouquet to my mom, but I regret to report that the flower girl ate it. Unfortunately I don't have the photos, either, because they are still on Masha's camera.
It happened like this. Two friends (both named Anya) were spending the night at our place, and Masha was digging through boxes finding dress up stuff she has for skits for English Camp. She produced a wedding veil and a black top hat from a box. She got all excited.
"You have to try these on!" she told Anya and I (the "new" Anya, as I call her, because I met her only a few weeks ago.) We tried the things on and took pictures, and pretended to serenade each other with Masha's guitar, and she took picutures of that. And then my brilliant Masha had an epiphany and got a white summer dress out of her cupboard for me (since I was in the veil at the time) and a black dress coat and pants for Anya. We made a stunning bride and "broom," as Masha likes to say.
And then we recruited, or I should say Masha recruited Nasok to be the flower girl. We thought it would be droll to have him holding the flower in his mouth. But mostly the other Anya, who came in in the middle of our game when I was standing there in my wedding dress and navy blue house shoes, just got shots of Masha trying to shove the rose stem into Nasok's mouth while Anya and I struck wedding photo-ish poses. Finally Nasok chewed the rose off its stem, so we decided to call the wedding off after all. It wasn't really working out :)
Anyway, I did get up, as I always inevitably do, and I put on some normal sort of clothes and decided to brighten up a little by wearing my favorite earrings-- the dangly silver ones my 6-year-old friend Eric gave me for my eighteenth birthday. I hastily put them on and left.
Deb's sis is visiting here this week, and they seem to be having a blast together. Today they went to Kiev to spend the night and have some girl time, so I came to watch the kids today, because Bruce was in Kiev for the day. So I greeted them, said bye to them, and had continued on my merry way for an hour or two before I looked in the mirror and saw, to my acute embarressment, that I had two different earrings in my ears!
I've only done this one other time that I remember (and it was worse, because I went out to breakfast with my friend Chelsea, who notices those things, and we were in public). Of course, I may have done it countless other times and not ever realized it. If you ever see me with two different earring in my ears, please graciously let me know.
This incident pretty much describes my life at the moment. Actually, lots of exciting things are happening right now, and I'm glad. But I tend to hover more or less in a state of dazedness. I think I'm tired.
Masha and I had several girls over at different times during the past week for supper, or tea, or to spend the night, or both or two at once or all three. I got a lot of Russian practice, and found that I was even wanting to try speaking Ukrainian one night when I felt particularly relaxed. Russian seems harsh to me, but I love Urkainian. It's much more musical, and although the alphabet is almost the same as in Russian, the few changes soften it and keep it from looking so intimidating. I feel like it's a little too late now to be learning Ukrainian.
What else has been keeping me so busy? How could I have forgotten! I almost got married on Wednesday night! Sorry, it was all so sudden I didn't have a chance to send out announcements or anything. In fact, I was planning to mail the bouquet to my mom, but I regret to report that the flower girl ate it. Unfortunately I don't have the photos, either, because they are still on Masha's camera.
It happened like this. Two friends (both named Anya) were spending the night at our place, and Masha was digging through boxes finding dress up stuff she has for skits for English Camp. She produced a wedding veil and a black top hat from a box. She got all excited.
"You have to try these on!" she told Anya and I (the "new" Anya, as I call her, because I met her only a few weeks ago.) We tried the things on and took pictures, and pretended to serenade each other with Masha's guitar, and she took picutures of that. And then my brilliant Masha had an epiphany and got a white summer dress out of her cupboard for me (since I was in the veil at the time) and a black dress coat and pants for Anya. We made a stunning bride and "broom," as Masha likes to say.
And then we recruited, or I should say Masha recruited Nasok to be the flower girl. We thought it would be droll to have him holding the flower in his mouth. But mostly the other Anya, who came in in the middle of our game when I was standing there in my wedding dress and navy blue house shoes, just got shots of Masha trying to shove the rose stem into Nasok's mouth while Anya and I struck wedding photo-ish poses. Finally Nasok chewed the rose off its stem, so we decided to call the wedding off after all. It wasn't really working out :)
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