Easter and a good sport

Jake went to a show Saturday afternoon. To get there we dropped him at a friend's house (about 30 minutes away) and from there they went to the subway and took the train downtown to the show. He was the come back home the same way, with us picking him back up from the friend's house.

During one of his check-in calls he asked if we would be able to give a ride home to another friend, B (in Jake's band), who also lives about 30 minutes away, but going back in the other direction. B.'s ride home had overbooked his car and would be cramming kids in without enough seatbelts. Yipe. What was to have been a hour of driving Saturday night was now going to be two. Luckily, B. was able to spend the night and so we had an extra kid for Easter morning.

We found another basket to set out and in the morning I had two sleepy teenage boys to wake up when it was time to search for the filled baskets. One thing we've always done on Easter and Christmas mornings is to have the kids line up in the hallway, smallest to tallest, while I snap a photo. I rarely share these photos as they show a gaggle of sleepy, bed-headed kids, and often more than one is blinking. I'm not mean enough to make them wait while I snap a bunch to avoid the half-closed eyes that will surely be in most of the shots when taking a photo of that many kids.

B. was a good sport and lined up right along with them. In all fairness, I think he was still partially asleep and not completely sure what he was doing. The two big boys went back to sleep after finding their baskets and munching on some chocolate so I'm sorry to say that, having slept through breakfast, we took B. home with nothing more than sweets in his stomach. He'll live.

We had an early dinner at my mother's and got to soak in all the newborn love from Baby Vita Marie (Vita Marita, according to Ben). I'm told that she does fuss at home but we only saw her eat, sleep, peek a little bit, then back to sleep.


Back home and more sweets, home made salsa and off to sleep. A good day, indeed.

distraction

a few photos from New Year's that I never posted.
Lydia enjoying her sparkling cider (with a lot of water added) toast

Abie, at midnight

Clara, shortly after that. Don't tell her I posted this.

bah, no pictures.

There has been too much occupying my brain lately to post much. I finally got my tax papers from my test proctoring job so that I could finish our taxes and complete the FAFSA information.

I didn't realize that the FAFSA site would spit out a number immediately to tell us what our expected contribution will be for Jake's first year of college. It's a lot of money but we will somehow manage it. The information is now forwarded to the schools he has applied to and they will let us know what can be put together to make up the difference between our expected contribution and student loans/grants/work study. Hopefully the numbers will work.

His first choice is by no means an inexpensive school so I will be holding my breath until we hear from them. He has applied to two other schools. One is a bit less and the other is much less. I just really, really hope everything works out for his first choice.

I do our taxes and use either TurboTax or TaxCut, depending on which way the wind blows. I love the way it figures everything out for me. I can't believe I did our taxes on paper for so many years, especially when I was a licensed daycare provider and had a gazillion more forms to fill out.

This year, however, there was some weird glitch with e-filing through TurboTax. To do an electronic signature, you have to input your last year's adjusted gross income. TurboTax was nice enough to grab that from our stored info and I sent it off, along with our state. Then I got an email saying the big guys had rejected our return because last year's agi number )for the electronic signature) didn't match up with what they have. Um. Well. It matches up with what I sent them last year.

I ended up calling the big guys and spoke to the nicest lady (thank you, Ms. Parrish, for being so friendly), who checked their records of my life history looked at our 2005 return and pronounced that TurboTax had been smoking crack a glitch in their software and to call them to find out why they are so annoying when they're high how to correct the problem.

In the meantime, our state return was kicked back to, because if the big guys don't want to know us, they don't either. Let me tell you, this game is so much fun for someone with an abnormal fear of authority.

In the end I decided that the faster course of action would be to submit the return electronically and send in the signature on paper. Glory hallelujah, the return was accepted. I should have my refund in my hot little hands bank account by February ninth.

In knitting news, I've now made six hats in Fig and Plum's pattern and have started a hat for Clara based on the Fake Isle pattern on Magknits. It's Kureyon and black, like the pattern, but has a skull motif around the main part (from Hello Yarn's We Call Them Pirates) instead of the diamond pattern in the original. Speaking of pirate hats, I finished Jake's pirate hat (love the lining--I used a milk chocolate brown cotton) in that pattern but, as I feared, it is too small. He can put it on but prefers to have blood circulating to his brain, so he won't be wearing it. It's adorable on Ben and Clara has worn it a few times. I'll have to knit it again using larger needles.

I've also started Sweater Babe's Beautiful Cabled Baby Jacket for Lydia for next year in (what else?) pink. The pattern cracks me up. It's written line-by-line with little boxes to check off beside each one. Idiot-proof. I'm just about down to the divide for the sleeves (it's knit from the top down) and it's going really quickly. I worked on it for a little while last night and a few times here and there today. Gotta love Cashmerino Aran on 9's.

I need to decide on what to knit for my sister's baby girl, due on April Fool's Day. I told her that she should aim for delivering at least a day late as she could have so much fun all day long on the first, telling people she is in labor.

Oh! And if you are in need of yarn stash organization, Costco has a cool shoe organizer right that is very cute for yarn. I'm not seeing it on their website, but it's very cute and about $23. I'll take a picture of mine when it's prettier. I'm in the process of addding yarn to it.

There is something else exciting going on but I have to check with someone to be sure I'm allowed to talk about it. Laura? Can I?

insert witty title here

Tonight is Hope's eye appointment to see if she needs glasses. Frankly, as bad as my eyes are, I'm surprised none of the kids have needed glasses, so far. Hope is desperately hoping that she's not the one to break that streak.

Jake is navigating his second and third college applications (remind me to tell you something about the second one that's funny) and I am about to delve deeper into FAFSA. I'm hoping that FAFSA won't turn into FAFSA HELL. Here is a situation where our large family size could work wonders for us.



I have photos from Chanukah, Christmas and New Year's to post but haven't gotten them off the camera, yet. Here's one to tide you over. Bedhead Lydia on Christmas morning.
Now we're off to pick up prescriptions, kitten food, hay for the bunny, a "kind" mousetrap (Squelge the gerbil has escaped and does not feel inclined to nicely jump into our hands and back into his home) and deodorant. Don't you wish your day was this action-packed?

A big welcome to the world to my cousin, Debbie's brand new baby boy, Caden Charles, born yesterday. I can't wait to see photos!

I heart Santa

Pop Pop (my dad) took us out for breakfast this morning and (lucky us!) the big guy was there. He had the kids giggling with stories of what he saw last year when he visited (Hope's blankets were on the floor and she was hanging off her bed, Abie was wrapped up in his blanket like a mummy, and so on). Ever the wiseguy, Clara walked away saying that he shouldn't be looking at them while they're sleeping--he should put the presents under the tree and scoot. She also threatened to ask for a donkey just before going up to talk to him. I was relieved to hear her ask for a surprise in the end. He was so sweet and nice that even Emma (who is shy beyond description) ended up hugging him at the end.

After photos of each of them talking to Santa and getting a hug, I got a one of all of them together. Well, except Jake. He was at home, nestled, all snug in his bed, while visions of The Clash danced in his head.

happy birthday, Meemo.

We miss you.

look at me, all up early-like on a Sunday

Billiam and 6/7's of the kids left a little while ago. He has some things to take care of at work and I am going out for brunch a little later with my girlfriends of forever. One of us is jumping ship and heading south in January. As much as I know it's the good and right decision for her family (lower cost of living means that she will get to be home with her three cutie boys), I am selfishly going to miss her. We don't get to see each other nearly enough with her living 20 minutes away. And those three cutie boys? Really nice boys that my kids adore. And the littlest is a chunky little piece of deliciousness. I want to keep them all here! Whine, whine, whine.

But brunch will be lovely. A bit fancy-schmancy and I get to go all by myself. That's right. Billiam even has Fireball. Snacks were packed but I am going to be busting at the seams to nurse her by the time we're all back home together. Fingers crossed that Benny, deep in his age of mommymommymommy, will forget to miss me.

I will drop Jake off at a nearby mall so that he can hang out with his Georgia Peach (scroll down to just below Heat Miser), who has, after many delays, finally moved up here. Jake's just a little bit happy about that.

Happy Chanukah

Billiam is Jewish so tonight we will be lighting the menorah and making potato latkes. I cannot believe I grated the potatoes by hand until last year when we finally got a food processor. What used to take forever is now zippety-quick. Plus, now the latkes don't have grated bits of my knuckles in them. I bet that added protein, though.

on the menu for tonight:

brisket
potato latkes
applesauce with cinnamon
baby peas

the tree, she is done.

After being so excited to have a blue spruce this year I am thinking this will be the last. That tree is dangerous! I don't remember needles ever being this sharp. The lights are (gasp!) barely inside the branches because I decided that I like the skin on my hands as free of bleeding holes as possible.

I'm not sure what kind we usually get. Each year it's like I've never bought a tree before...Frasier Fir? Canaan Fir? Douglas Fir? I'm just certain that we never get a blue spruce (too expensive) and absolutely never a white pine because it looks like it belongs growing between the divided lanes in Montgomery Village where the police like to set up a speed trap. "Please Drive 35 in our Hometown!" So, yeah, I don't care for white pines.

Jake serenaded us on various guitars as we each picked through the ornaments hoping to put our own favorites on first. There was nearly a fight to the death over something--I can't even remember what. As I was playing referee, Jake's music was picking up in tempo until I turned to Billiam and said, "I didn't realize our family fights had a soundtrack!" But I love decorating the tree--squabbles, and all.

It was one of my favorite things about Christmas when I was growing up. Until the year (junior high) my mother decided it would be fun to have a tree-trimming party and invite everyone and their cousin to decorate our tree. So we had strangers (ok--people she worked with--lots of them--and people from the neighborhood that we barely knew) pawing through our ornaments and hanging them on our tree then gobbing tinsel on willy-nilly. Man, that pissed me off. I say "pissed me off," but it would be more accurate to say it cut a little chunk of my heart out (could I be more dramatic?). Those of you who know me in real life know that my mother was...unpredictable. Decorating the tree was one of those few things I knew I could count on to be the same (and happy!) each year. Those damn tree-trimming parties ruined that part of Christmas for me until I moved out and had a tree of my own.

Careful, Gretchen. Your issues are showing.

Back to the present...we need to trim the top a few inches because the poor angel is hitting her head on the ceiling, but despite that and the surface lights, I think it looks beautiful. Next year's tree will be more user-friendly, though.

One of my favorite ornaments--a painted wax rocking horse, a gift from my friend, Meredith, when we were kids. It was sheer perfection in my eyes--I was horse-crazy and in love with purple. Somewhere along the way one of the kids decided to bite it. There a little teeth marks across his eye and mane. They add to the charm.

"we've found a good one. Jake, bring me the rifle."

~Billiam, when we finally decided which tree to bring home.

Tree Hunter Man. I told you I would post it.

(Now you can all watch as I get my ass kicked for posting this)

This tree was actually our second choice. The best, most perfect tree that we found first became The Poop Tree after Billiam and Hope skidded through some...well, poop that was next to it. Don't tell Hope I told you that. She would shriek at me in that voice that thirteen year old girls use when you've ruined their life. Again.

I don't even think she actually got any on her shoes. But the thought of it sent her whole world askew and when she thought we might actually still be considering getting The Poop Tree she ran up the hill, horrified. Mind you, there was no poop on the tree. It was next to the tree. That was enough to ruin the whole tree. Just ask Hope.

There was much discussion about how likely The Poop Tree was to fall into the poop once it was felled. Favorable angles were considered. In the end, this family's fear of the poop won out and we set off to find the second best tree.

Hope, lugging the sack of potatoes that is Lydia

The sack of potatoes smiles

My Abie

Ben, in the lemon hat that wouldn't die. Cheap cotton, circa 1990 something

Clara, ever happy with her camera-toting mama

Emma

Bluey, among the blue spruces

Ben had the most fun, hands-down.

A barbed wire fence! QUICK! Strike a punky pose.

Hope, hiding from us as we considered getting The Poop Tree

Cutting down Second Choice Tree

Billiam's view of his audience as he cuts down Second Choice Tree

For some reason this year the blue spruce prices came down while the other tree prices went up so that in the end there was just a few dollars difference. So instead of waving at the blue spruces as we drive on to the cheaper ones, our sunroom is now filled with blue sprucely goodness. The ornaments still haven't gone up, but maybe tonight.

I turned 40, right on schedule.

Yesterday was my birthday. Sometimes 40 seems momentous and other times like just another day. Mostly the latter and I think I'm happy with that.

Saturday I was a room supervisor for the SAT's. I had to get up at 5:30 (really, should anyone be awake at that hour?) and arrive at the college at 7:00. I was happy to be assigned the 7th and 8th graders room. They're still so sweet and happy to follow directions at that age. One little boy ended up skipping ahead on his answer sheet (he recorded section six in section five), but we caught it at the beginning of the next section and once I told him it would be fine he didn't stress over it.

My biggest stress was thinking about how Lydia would be doing without me. This was just the second time I've left her for longer than it takes to run up to the store for a few things. She is still nursing more than eating food. So I worry about whether she is crying for me and I'm uncomfortable from not nursing for that long. The last test I did she was fine (in October), and it seems she was this time, too. Ingrate.

I got home at about 1:20 or so and noticed a bunch of cars next door. Wow. The guy who never has anyone over must be having a party. Do you see where this is heading? Because I didn't. I was tired, what little makeup I had put on that morning at dark o'clock had disappeared and my only wish was to nurse the baby and take a nap with her.

As I opened the front door Billiam was there and my very first thought was that I really liked the new shirt he had on, but when did he get it? A second later all these people yelled, "SURPRISE!" So I turned around and walked back out the door into the yard. I might have said a four letter word.

Yes, my darling husband had been planning and plotting. I cannot believe I did not have even an ounce of suspicion.

The guest list included my three best friends (from junior high) and their families, our neighbors from the house I lived in the longest when I was growing up (we moved a lot), including their son who I always referred to as my little brother (he's like 6 foot fifteen now) and his wife and daughter, and family members. Notably absent, my brother, but he didn't come to my wedding, either. Not. Bitter. At. All. I should add that the there is no malice in his absences. Just circumstances. The kids were all excited beyond words to have surprised me, most of them having just found out about the party that morning, themselves. A wise decision on Billiam's part, I am sure.

We had barbecue from my favorite place and extremely tasty chocolate mousse cakes at the end. Mmm I loves me some chocolate mousse cake. I will let you know over the next few years if my candle wishes come true.

There was live entertainment provided by my darling Jake's band. I just gotta love teenage boys who play punk music performing for my fortieth birthday party. Tough guys, one and all. They played some of their own music and, as per my wish, they played Elvis Costello's "Welcome to the Working Week," and even threw in one of my best most faves, "Alison." Had I known I was having a party, I would have requested some Indigo Girls, but what can you do?

I wish I had some photos to share, but since I am the photographer in the family, I have none. I know there were some taken by others and, if you are someone who took them and I look hideous in them, please consider it my birthday wish that you not share them. I would not pass around unflattering photos of you and hope you'll return the favor. You know who you are.

And to my sweetheart...Honey, thank you. I still can't believe you did it. You rock.

Jake's band, fresh from their performance at a Red Cross benefit show, Sunday night

Baby Me with my brother, circa 1967 and 1968

aargh! (in a good way)

Just a peek. This will be relegated to drafts later today to keep someone from seeing it.

I was able to block it out enough that I think it will be fine. I'm fairly certain that his noggin isn't bigger than mine and I can get it on. Honestly, I would prefer that it be a bit bigger, but it works. Now I just need to do the lining and it's all set.

I'm right on track with that other hat, too.

Today I will start (and maybe finish) the fingerless mitts for a shorter person. Those are going to be quick and fun. You'll see why when I take a pic.

Meanwhile, Clara came home from school yesterday and burst into tears. She (and I) had completely forgotten about her school's audition for Stomp the day before. Her theater teacher spotted her in the hall in the morning and asked her why she hadn't shown up. Poor thing. I felt like the World's Worst Mom for not remembering but I made it clear to the kids this year that if they are responsible for writing their own commitments on the calendar. Even so...

Oh, and my worrying about the Jake's teacher recommendation letter(s) arriving on time was for naught. Jake told me yesterday that one of the teachers told him on Monday that she had mailed the letter. Thanks for sharing, Jake. So as long as the counselor got his stuff in, it's taken care of. Now, if the college would only use the weighted gpa for honors and ap courses. Bah.

that'll cost you an Elvis Costello, Jake.

Jake's band has been invited to play at a Red Cross benefit concert next weekend. On my birthday. My 40th birthday. In his pitch he said they'd dedicate a song to me. I told him I want it to be an Elvis Costello one. Punk it up all you want, sweetie. Just please don't use the scary voice.

overheard

(Ben had just taken a bath and his hair was towel-dried but otherwise untouched)

Clara: "BEN! I love your hairdo!"

Ben: (with gusto) "Thanks! I got it at the bathtub."

Life is sweet.

deal

Lydia in her handknit sweater that Billiam and Clara picked up from a street vendor in NYC. You can't really see it in the photos, but it has fair isle work on the hood and the lower half of the body. Fifteen bucks. Can't beat that with a stick.

my favorite tourists

At Rockefeller Center. I think Clara needs to adjust the date on her camera.

The trip was a roaring success. Much fun to be had by all. They got into the city and, after shuffling things around on the bus they decided to leave the backpack and get on their way. They had about two hours to kill before the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall so they walked around and shared a giant corned beef sandwich for lunch.

I got a call around 12:30--when it was time to go into the show. When they decided to leave the backpack on the bus, guess what was still in it?

"We left the tickets on the bus."

Oh. No. Way. The bus was in parts unknown and the trip organizer had already gone to an earlier show and couldn't be reached. Billiam bit the bullet and bought two more tickets, a much less costly investment than future therapy ("Remember that time we went to NY to see a show and left the tickets on the bus? Yeah, well it ruined my life..."). They ended up with better seats than the rest of their group and loved the show.

More shopping after the show (they found an adorable hand knit sweater for Lydia for a steal!), then pizza for dinner (during which my NY born, pizza snob husband decided once and for all that we truly do finally have pizza down here as good as in the city). They were going to go up to the top of the Empire State Building but the line for tickets was 90 minutes long and they decided they would rather just take a picture from the outside and walk around more.

Traffic was terrible getting out and they didn't end up getting home until close to 1 am, instead of the planned 11 pm. The car door I heard just after midnight must have been the neighbor.

Clara was six shades of pale from exhaustion and happy as a clam.

Hi, Debi!

a quick hello to my cousin, who recently told me she reads this.

moving on

Ok--the mittens were supposed to be one of the quickie Christmas knits. I've just frogged the first mitten in the second pattern. It was the Target Wave mittens from the Fall 2006 Interweave Knits. When I saw the pattern I loved it and hated it. Maybe hate is too strong a word. I love that it's a novel approach to an old standby. This definitely isn't your father's Oldsmobile. But I just couldn't decide whether I liked it. I'm not crazy about the stripes. Yeah, I know. They are a huge part of the pattern, but thought I might like them better in variegated. You know, like that would play down the part I didn't like while maintaining the newness of the pattern.

I plowed ahead, using the ever so lovely pink/purple variegated. Mitten completed. I hate it. Whatever charm the pattern had in its original form was lost in the yarn change. Crap.

Well, I can't go to sleep now, anyway, because Billiam and Clara aren't home, yet. They went with her Theater Arts class today up to NYC to see a show and eat yummy things. There was Much Drama. More on that another time.

The rest of us (minus the sleeping Jake) spent a good part of the day at the younger kids' fall festival. Two of the four (Hope and Abie) won at the cake walk. Two homemade cheesecakes were chosen and all four were much pleased. I say that as if I'm not pleased, too. Mmmm. Cheesecake. They were very sweet to decide to save them until tomorrow when everyone will be home.

Oh, I also won four hours of a carnival concession for a song. Whee! Cotton candy machine! The kids don't know about that just yet because they were supposed to call by 4:30 if we were the high bidders but didn't end up calling until close to seven. Too bad we didn't win the four hours of moon bounce to go with it. I wonder how much cotton candy you can make in four hours....

I think I just heard a car door. They must be home!

cheater.

One of Ben's current favorite passtimes is rock-paper-scissors. We were playing yesterday and he was winning every time.

Then, "Rock! Paper! Scissors! Shoot!"

He looked at my rock and then, rather forlornly, down at his own scissors. Slight pause and I could see the wheels spinning in his head. Ever so slowly, one more finger of his crept up to join the other two. Then he happily proclaimed, "I have a three-headed dinosaur! That beats rock!"

Oh, honey.

my sister called right on time yesterday and...

It's a girl!

Gee, do I have any pink yarn? Two names are being considered, but I am sworn to secrecy.