How Time Flies

Eighteen years ago today I was at church....

No, I wasn't doing the Mormon multiple spouse thing. From the left are Matt, my "man" of honor, me, Bo Hunkmeister and Lou, Bo's best man. I asked my college roommate to be maid of honor but she took off to Italy. So I asked my good friend Matt to step in. I love the fact that he so readily agreed.


Pre wedding...
...I was pinning a corsage on my dad, running the show like a stage manager on a power trip. I love the smile on my dad's face. You can tell he saying, "Oh that poor boy! I wonder if he knows what he's in for!"


On the other hand, Bo and his best man were watching Rocky and Bullwinkle. Bo said he shaved three times that day. Maybe that's why Bo's cheeks were shiny.


These are my brothers lovingly telling Bo, "Now that you're part of the family, we don't have to pretend to like you any more." Aren't they the sweetest?


Marrying this wonderful man has helped introduce to the world...

Gummi

Tater

Princess Buttercup

W. Bear

Princess Git Er Done

and of course...

Baby!

It's been a fabulous eighteen years, Bo. Here's to more adventures!

Public Service Announcement #234

Everyone needs to read this (it's an easy read, no really, it is):




To prevent this:





We'll address the whole public speaking skills thing later....

The Road Less Traveled

Dear New England,

This letter has been a long time coming.

You know I love you. We started our relationship on shaky ground with the schizophrenic weather patterns and the funny accents, but when I discovered your fall foliage, your quainter than quaint little villages, your plethora of Dunkin' Donuts, I said to myself, "I think this relationship could work."

But there's something I gotta ask you, something I need an answer to.
What the heck is up with your roads and road signage?

Between road signs that are placed on the opposite side of the turn, non-existent road signs and highway signs placed just at the exit or after (when the turn is too late), it makes me think you don't want me here.

Today was the final straw.

You see New England, a friend told me I didn't have to go all the way to Boston for good cannoli. I could go to the North End Deli in Plainville which is just off of Route 152 which is off of Robert Toner Blvd. A mere 20 minutes from my house!

Like any good New Englander, I started my trip with a stop at Dunkin' Donuts. And here was my omen: a sour coffee. I should have seen it for what it was but, because I didn't, I tried to remedy the situation. I bought another coffee to mix with the sour one rather than concede defeat; retreat to fight another day. (Am I being melodramatic here? I mean, we're talking about pastries after all.)

I forgot the Google directions at home but, in my mind, it seemed so simple. I confirmed the directions with a friend who lived in the area. She said, "Sure, just bang a left and then another left and it's right there."

Confident in my information and in our knowledge of each other, I took off. I turned onto Robert Toner Boulevard. You know I'm a cautious person, New England. I like confirmation that I'm on the correct road. So after a few miles, I started to look for street signs that would indicate the road I'm on. I find a sign at the cross street that only has the name of the cross street itself, not the one I'm on. As a matter of fact, it had two signs on one pole for "Kevin Koska Drive," as if there was a disagreement whether there should blue signs or green ones and it was decided to use both. As I passed each cross street I looked for confirmation but there was nothing. It was as if you, New England, were telling me, "You should know the street you're on." I've also noticed that sometimes, you put the street signs on the right side for a street that is on the left. Is it not a little dangerous to be looking to the right side when you need to be turning left?

Befuddled, I went into one of the three Dunkin' Donuts that I passed to ask directions. The girl inside told me she was good at directions. This, in hind sight, I should have seen as another portend of misfortune. She said, "Follow Landry to the end."

I followed Landry. I stayed straight. I did.

But at some point, I saw I was no longer on Landry. Finally, there was a street sign but only to tell me Landry had left me. Going straight, no turns, the road changed. Did I enter a time/space continuum? You can't just up and change a road name in mid stream. Or direction for that matter. I tried to follow this new road to the end but the last block was one way in the opposite direction I was traveling. Same name but different direction. How can I get to the end if the road is against me?

Now, traveling back and forth to find out where I am, to see where Landry has disappeared to, to somehow find Route 152 (which is supposed to be a major route), I return to my starting point with 1/4 tank less of gas, frustrated and more importantly, cannoli-less.

Really New England, I need to know. We don't seem to be communicating clearly. I need to know where I am with you.

Love always,
Domestic Goddess

Postition Available

I need someone.

After the standard question, "Are they all yours?" I'm usually asked, "How do you do it all?" Meaning, how do I keep on top of the cooking, cleaning, educating, child care, et. al, ad nauseum. Truthfully, I never thought of my life as particularly full of chores and work.

Until now.

I need help. To clean my baby. It's a full time job. No, really, it is.


This is Gummi.
Cute little bugger with a sweet disposition.
He's bathed on a regular basis. Not as much as the only child of a first time mom, but never the less, he's a fresh smelling kid. But I'm finding it harder and harder to keep him funk-free. Why?

Consider his ear.
Notice the tiny little canals. Perfect for trapping stuff.


This is his chin. When I pull back his chin to clean, I discover two other chins. I swear I could lose a dollar bill under there.


And his belly button. I'm scared of what's in there but I don't know how to get it out. (I'm sorry, did you just finish eating dinner?)


Ahhh, yes. The toes. Which stay clenched all the time. I want to clean between them but that would require prying them open somehow. I'm scared.


His hands

Do you know how long it takes to trim the nails of an appendage that's constantly in motion?

So I can either tend to the rest of my house or spend the day cleaning Gummi, but I can't do both.

I will be interviewing people tomorrow.

My Girl

This is my girl, Princess Git-Er-Done.

I think of all my kids, she's most like me.

For example...



she likes to cook,

she thinks rules or instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing,

and she can multi-task like a pro.

Sometimes, she's a force to be reckoned with...

But she's also very sweet, like here when she's trying to soothe her brother:

Most of the time, she's just dancing to her own music.

And that's why we love her.

Happy Birthday Sweetie!

What Happens When the Baby is Left with the Siblings

I like the look of resignation in the last photo.

Fashion in the Domestic Goddess House

I told Baby to go upstairs and get dressed for the day and this is what he came down in. Note the shoes.



This inspired me to post about Baby's fashion sense until I uploaded the other pictures on the card and saw these.

Doesn't his expression just say, "Why, Mother? Why?"

This is Grandma getting in on the action (or getting a snoot full too early in the morning).

"You will bring me more kibble. You will bring me more kibble. You will...oh, nevermind."

What happens when you leave the baby with his sister.

I couldn't tell if this was a clothing issue or interpretive dance.

As Princess Buttercup once said, "We're all about fashion in this family."

As the Juice Box Turns; A Raven La Diva Story

It was a dark and stormy....morning. Raven eyed her appliances warily as she kissed Bo Hunkmeister goodbye.
"Oh my darling!" she said, "Have fun on your trip. We'll miss you!"
"Be strong my kitten!" Bo replied.
The crumb crunchers darling children hugged their ruggedly handsome father while Raven thought to herself, 'Can I give these kids spaghetti every night while he's gone and still be a good mom?'
Bo stepped out the door and rode off into the horizon. Then it began. Princess Git Er Done snipped at Tater, Baby threw a toy, Tater called Git Er Done stupid, Baby pitched a fit, W. Bear bet Git Er Done $6.00, Git Er Done won the bet, W. Bear wouldn't pay.
Just when Raven could take no more, there was a knock at the door. It was Desiree, Raven's friend. What was that in her arms? A casserole for tomorrow's dinner and sushi grade tuna. Here Raven was, well on her way to a meltdown and her friend brings sushi! 'Oh, Desiree!' she thought, 'You're harshing my drama.'
Having recovered from her moment, Raven rolled and rolled tekkamaki like a 60's dope head (not that she knew anything about that personally). Then she, Desiree and the kids ate themselves silly. Lunch was taken care of, cheesecake was made, babies were cuddled and life was good. A little too good perhaps.
'How long can such happiness last?' thought Raven.
Will W.Bear's ill place bet grow into a gambling problem? Will the children be fed more than spaghetti? Will there be enough blog fodder for another post?
Tune in tomorrow....

Yowza

My friends rock. They also nag me about posting to my blog, but for the most part they rock. Case in point: they threw me a surprise party for my
~wait for it~

40th birthday

~large sigh~

Now I normally like to assume I'm the fount of all knowledge (at least that's what I tell the kiddos) but I was completely surprised by all this. Clueless, I'm tellin' ya. I went with the family to my friend's house for what I thought was just another Sunday afternoon cookout/potluck. However, going around to the back of their house, I see my Dad. I think to myself, "How sweet! They invite my parents up for my birthday!" Then I see the rest of the gang. Wow. Yowza. Holy Frijoles. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you guys rock. There were friends, there were testimonials (sardonic wit!), there was food, there was live music. And there was much merriment!

There were gifts too! Y'all must be reading the blog because I got something like $357.23 in Dunkin Donuts gift cards. (Knowing that you're reading the blog, why hasn't someone gotten me that outdoor bathroom yet?)

Bo Hunkmeister had friends of ours perform "Be Thou My Vision", a very beautiful hymn that was in our wedding. Remind me to scold Bo for making me cry in public. And let me say that I gave the Millers their first piano lessons before they became rich and famous. You guys have done me proud ~sniff, sniff~

As usual with our group potlucks, there was lots of food - burgers, chicken, ribs, sushi, stuffed mushrooms, ice cream cupcakes and a donut cake with lots of sprikels spincles sprinkels jimmies!

I'm not sure what else to say because I'm operating on small amounts of sleep in addition to copious amounts of iced coffee which leads to lots of potty breaks that interrupt my train of thought - not that the trains are very long these days. So I will leave it at this.

Thanks guys - you rock!

Today is a good day!

Not only did I have a Chinese lunch for free*, but this was my fortune:






*courtesy of mystery shopping!

Get the Kleenex ready...

My 11 year old wrote this for me for Mother's Day:

My Mother's Hands

My Mother's hands are the hands that,
Held my Father's hands on their wedding day,
Held me to her bosom the day I came out,
Taught me to walk, corrected me when I did wrong, and
comforted me when I was sad.

The hands that taught me to read,
taught me to have fun, taught me to speak my mind.
The hands that taught me to love, care, share, think and use my imagination.
The hands that taught me about the Armor of God and how to wear it.

Her hands are the hands that love me and
the hands that care for me when I am sick.
Those hands are the hands that teach me about the love and salvation of Jesus.
The hands that clasp together in prayer, praying that I would grow up to be a godly woman, full of faith, and doing the will of Jesus.

Her hands work the ground; providing food for the family.

Her hands are hands that are always open to Jesus.
Hands that are always protecting, loving, caring, correcting,
teaching, sharing, giving, and comforting.


Happy Mother's Day Mom!

~sigh~

Happy Mother's Day!

I love Mother's Day because it's that day when it's all about me! Am I letting the inner diva out a bit much? In what's become an annual tradition, I've compiled a list of gift ideas. Shall we get started?

1. An outdoor bathroom. That's right, a shower, sink and toilet outside of my house. Why? Because I'm tired of little boys who play in the mud and then tramp through my house because they need to go potty. An outdoor bathroom would allow them to piddle outside without the neighbors getting upset and at the end of the day, I can shower them off before they come indoors. Go ahead, tell me I'm a genius.

2. A vegetable cloaking device. Like the Klingons had on Star Trek. With a cloaking device, my carb-boy will actually eat something other than white starchy things.

3. $500.00 in Dunkin' Donuts gift cards. Lattes, iced coffee, coolattas– I love them all. I could have a DD product every day. However, the husband insists on using his paycheck for things like paying the mortgage or the electric bill rather than funding my Dunkin' habit.

4. A GPS device to implant in my children's shoes. It never fails that one shoe is downstairs and the other shoe is nowhere near the first shoe. Yet I don't see my kids walking around with one shoe only to take off said shoe ten minutes and twenty feet away from the first shoe so they wander around with the original shoe asking where the other shoe is. You following me?

5. Recipe organizer. Between the document box, the twenty or so recipe books and three year's worth of Cook's Illustrated, I am over whelmed. But I can't throw any of them away because I want to try them. No really, I will make that lobster soufflé some day. Really. Help me.

6. Titanium game boxes. I do not know who at Hasbro/Mattel/etc. thinks that putting children's games in thin cardboard boxes is a good idea. Within days of receiving a game, the corners are split and taped back together at least three times. In ones month's time, the box is basically a place-mat. I know titanium is a bit more expensive but I think I'll end up ahead with the money I'd save on tape.

Now my dear Bo Hunkmeister suggested for the gift list a device that locks a child in the bathroom until their hands have been tested for the presence of soap and water. I would have listed said device here until it occurred to me that children like Baby would probably like being locked in the bathroom for a few hours. We'll have to work out the bugs on that gift idea for next year.

Until then - all you Moms have a wonderful day!!

My Life in Cars

My recent post about our new ride got me to thinking about how my life can be traced by the cars I've owned. I've noticed that the vehicles just keep getting bigger.


This was the car in which Bo Hunkmeister took me on our second date. It was a fall foliage ride through Connecticut. Notice my sexy outfit. I would have worn my hajib but it was at the cleaners.


This was my first love car. I bought it for $600 from a fellow art student and it was worth every penny I paid. I had a mechanically inclined friend give the car a once over.

He said, "You need brake fluid."
I said, "All right, I'll get some tomorrow."
He said, "No, like now."
I said, "Like this afternoon?"
He said, "No, like, your brakes will be failing in the next ten minutes."
I said, " Ok, so like I should go get brake fluid now, huh?"
Am I a smart cookie, or what?

When I sold the car ~hangs head in shame~, the driver's side door was not working, it periodically stalled and it had about 140,000 miles on it. The girl I sold it to told me that three months later, both doors were not working and the brakes had failed when someone stole the car.



When I married the stylish Bo Hunkmeister, I also married his stylish car, the Honda Accord. In an effort to teach my husband not to be so precious with his possessions, I wrecked the car for him. He didn't seem to be as appreciative as I though he would be.



In a fit of consumerism, we bought a Volvo. To me this car screams Yuppy DINKs! (Dual Income, No Kids). This was a lesson in how not to buy a car: no research, impulse purchase, no financial planning, etc. We pushed the dealership to get the car ready so we could show it off to my parents on a weekend trip to Vermont. The dealer did so and off we went, proud of ourselves and our purchase. As we were driving with my parents, the car inexplicably stalled out. There we were, dead by the side of the road in our new car that we were just bragging about. My mother, bless her heart, said, "Well, it has a nice interior!" Pride goeth before the car troubles. One summer day I was driving the car and it stalled out— leaving me by the side of the road in 98 degree weather with a trunk full of groceries and a one month old baby in the back seat. This was when we got a cell phone and a new car.



This car began our relationship with Anchor Subaru. We haven't met their parents yet, but I'm sure a ring is in our future. This purchase we were smarter about. We researched, test drove and researched some more. This lovely piece of engineering served us well until we just plain out-grew it. The only down side was I woke up one morning, looked out my kitchen window, and noticed that the car was tilting to one side. I went out to discover that, during the night, someone had jacked up the car and stolen all four alloy wheels. You'd think it would have been easier to just steal the whole car. Maybe they didn't want to be mistaken for a soccer mom. There was a bright side though— we got two free jacks out of the deal.



As much as we liked our Subaru, with baby number 4 on the way, we went back to our friends at Anchor and bought our Honda Odyssey minivan. It should be a crime to sell such a lovely, clean car to people like us who are going to fill it with old french fries, crumpled juice boxes and other miscellaneous food bits. Being the art students that we are, we put our own touch on it. Bo removed the flames before we traded it in but I thought flames would add to its resale value. Again, loved the car but, just like Otto the goldfish, we needed something bigger.



So now we ride in a battleship size vehicle. And while it's a large vehicle to maneuver, we do periodically get the chance to down-size to this:

But where's the beverage holder?

Call Me Ishmael.

Introducing our new ride. As a family of eight, no mere minivan can contain us any more (insert maniacal laughter here). So we purchased a twelve passenger Ford 350. Let me tell you how roomy it is! It's like taking your living room out for a ride. I'm looking forward to a road trip in it - North Carolina, here we come!

We bought it from the good folks at Anchor Subaru. If you're ever in need of a car, go see these guys. So far, we've purchased three cars from there (a wagon, a mini van, a maxi van). Since they don't sell school buses, I think we've reached our limit with them, which is a shame because they're exceedingly helpful and they've always given us good deals.

Originally, I thought we should name the van Ebenezer (look it up - 1 Samuel 7:12), but that would take too long to explain every time someone said "Wha??" So being the great white beast that it is, the next logical thought was calling it Moby Dick.

Which of course, having gone to art school, led to this:









Oh, Ahab, what has your fury led you to?

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life...

My house burned down
Now I can better see
The rising moon

haiku attributed to Masahide



I love a positive attitude, don't you?

My Daughter the Lawyer

My nine year old has recently become exceedingly interested in a friend's Pokemon cards. So her friend offered to sell her some. Having apparently been stung in a previous financial transaction (maybe real estate? I dunno) she thought it necessary to write up a purchase contract for her friend to sign.

Dear D,
This is just a little something that says that you sold the pok'e mon
to me.so uh.... just read it and see what you think O.K.. o.k. so here we go

The Pok'e Mon Selling Pledge

I ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– pledge to sell ––––––– Pok'e Mon to –––––––––––––––––––––––––––– who has paid an amount of ––––––––––––––– and not ask for a refund, which is giving her her money back and asking for the Pok'e mon back in return. Also teaching her how to play and trade the Pok'e Mon that I have sold to her, and also help her to under stand the basics of Pok'e Mon,and every thing she needs to know to be a good Pok'e Mon player and trader. Now the rules of this document is that this statement must be witnessed by two of the sellers sisters and––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– who are residents of the –––––––––––––––––– family to make sure that there is no cheating in the process of the selling and buying of the Pok'e Mon, the next rule is I'm sad to say is that the Pok'e Mon card prices can not be higher than 75, because this document has been read by the sister of the buyer,who claims that the price of the Pok'e Mon cards can not be as high as 1.00 a piece, I'm very sorry to say this but it just can not be so.but as this document had to be read by one of the––––––––– family member, I am very sorry to report that it had to be her, because she usably does not agree with what I have in mind for my friends,but as the buyer I can influence her to change her mind, but still being the younger sister the highest I could get out of her was 75 but never mind hey at least it is better than nothing right, anyway back to the subject, the Pok'e Mon selling and buying will still go on though I'm sure with less excitement, but at least the buyer will still get money, like my Father says, getting something is better than getting nothing, and I'm sure that He's perfectly right.well any way thats that and I can't change it,any way back to where to was....................oh ya uh right , since the document has been––I'm very sorry to say again–– read by a member of my family { the _________ family} we can now say that this document is Pok'eMonly legal , so then I'll settle the matter the ones in the Pok'e Mon folder can be a dollar but the ones out of the folder have to 75 or less so on Sunday April 19th the buyer and the seller of this Pok'e Mon event will decide { in the buyers case} which ones she/he Would like to buy,{and in the sellers case} if not wanting to sell these specific ones try and compromise with the buyer until the two come to an agreement in which both the buyer and seller are happy. Then on Tuesday–––––––– pay for the chosen Pokemon's and then on Wednesday –––––––– pick up the {chosen by the buyer and unapproved by the seller} Pok'e Mon.


Singed _________________________


Witness #1___________________________

Witness #2 __________________________

I wonder what her retainer fee is....

Pictures!

This is me, Princess Buttercup and Bo Hunkmeister after the birth.
Notice the snarky "Nyah, nyah, I did it!" look on me.
By the way, Bo's shirt says, "Handsome is a huge understatement!" I got it for him for Father's Day.


Now, prepare to have your heart melt....

Cheeky baby!

Mr. Serious




I'll post more pictures as soon as I get more than four hours of sleep...

Announcing Andrew James

Finally!

Am I sleeping when the baby is sleeping? No, I'm blogging and surfing Facebook. When, oh when will my common sense ever kick in?

Our little boy, who's really not so little, arrived Sunday morning at 5:50 am weighing in at 10 pound, 2 ounces, delivered naturally! All I can say is Praise God and yay team!

So let's get down to the gory details, shall we?

As many of you know, I was having contractions as early as Thursday. The fact that they would not get any closer together was the source of much irritation. Saturday we went to bed at 11:30 pm and the contractions started again and I thought, "Great, there goes another night's sleep." Then, as if in response to my snarkiness, I felt something give way. You've never seen a pregnant lady jump up so quick in your life. Now "experts" say that a woman's waters break before labor in only 15% of pregnancies. Having had this happen with W Bear, I figured I was already at 20% and had beaten the odds of trashing my bed. Apparently, I am an exception to the rule. There I was by the side of my bed making a big old mess. Bo Hunkmeister woke up because he heard water running and thought, that can't be good. He said, "You ok, dear?" and I said, "It's showtime." Bo tossed me some towels that were nearby and I waddled to our tub while he called the midwife.

Now for another aside that you might not know. When I was first married, I thought large families that home schooled and had home births were all hippies who couldn't leave the 60's. Guess who's about to get a dashiki and some love beads?

Andrew James was born in our very own bed here at home with his sister looking on (another sister chose not to watch and his brothers slept through the whole thing).

The reason we decided on a home birth after five hospital births basically came down to wanting to have a natural childbirth. I've had two c-sections and three natural births and let me tell you, as painful as labor can be, the recovery from a natural birth is far better than a section. But after much research and discussion with at least four other OB/GYN practices, I found out that no one in the state of Rhode Island would allow me to even try to labor naturally because of the previous two sections. I offered to sign waivers, to labor in the operating room, I presented ACOG bulletins and research that supported my position, and still was told the same thing - medical professionals wouldn't risk the cost of a possible lawsuit were something to go wrong.

This was the cause of much stress for me because I really didn't want to be strapped to a table, awake while someone cut me open. What put me over the edge was when my OB scheduled my section a week earlier than I had expected simply because his schedule was booked for the first day he mentioned. For me, being a slow cooker (most of my babies have been late), an early operation date meant a baby taken out before he was completely ready.

So we found a midwife who would help us deliver a baby at home. In Rhode Island, whoever cuts the cord in a home birth is the person considered to have delivered the baby. Of course, in my warped thinking, this made me want to wake up the two year old so he could cut the cord! Sensibility won out though and Bo "delivered" his son.

So back to squatting in the tub...
While I cleaned up a bit in the tub, Bo Hunkmeister called the midwife, called Gail (our child care person), cleaned my mess and made the bed ready for the birth. Have I ever told you how wonderful he is?

Anyway, within a half an hour, the team was assembled and ready. The midwife set up all the supplies, started warming the receiving blankets and then sat down a pulled out some knitting. I'm not kidding, in between listening to the baby's heart beat, she was making a baby hat! We sat, we chatted, we ate, we drank, I contracted and we did the whole routine over again until the contractions got too intense. At that point, the midwife had me lay on the bed sideways. I had wanted to stay up right because that made the contractions a smidge less painful, but the midwife wanted me to lie down so Gummi wouldn't come out too quickly. Too quickly?!? When I can see the end of the race, I want to sprint for it, not slow things down a bit. But I acquiesced to her 27 years of experience, laid down and silently said lots of not so polite things in my head. Despite what felt like an eternity, I managed to push all 10 pounds, 2 ounces of baby out within 30 minutes. And no tearing! Even with the traditional LGH (Large Grattan Head). And then bliss set it - baby warm on your chest, no more pain and some Irish Soda bread!

At this point, I'm going fundamentalist so if this makes you feel uncomfortable, scroll past this next part.
I want to praise God for:
all of you who prayed so fervently for us and this delivery
letting me delivery Andrew naturally with no tearing!
for a short labor (relatively)
for a midwife and her assistant that had faith in me and Bo (and left my house as clean as it was before they got there)
for Gail who kept an eye on my other kiddies and then told me it was a privilege to watch me yell and make a mess on my bed
and especially for my husband who knelt in the same uncomfortable position for more than an hour, who volunteered his arms for my "contraction death grip", who rubbed my lower back until his fingers were numb all while saying "You're doing great, honey!"

The midwife and her assistant (another midwife herself) stayed with us for two hours after wards making sure that Andrew and I were all set and cleaned up and then they left. It was that simple.

So now I'm a bit sore, a bit tired, but in general, in a waaaay better mood than my previous delivery (one of the two aforementioned sections). As my friend Mary Ellen said, "You sounded happy on my voice mail!" My not-so-little boy is sleeping next to me in my bed, and there aren't any nurses coming in just as we fall asleep to ask for my blood pressure.

I'm not saying home birth is for everyone. Bo and I carefully researched this option and prayerfully considered our particular risks. But let me tell you, sometimes being a bit fringe can be a wonderful thing.

P.S. A little olive oil on a newborn's butt will help in cleaning off that sticky meconium. I wish I had know this with my first!

These Guys

There are different names for these types of groups. Some are called bible study groups, kinships, fellowship groups, or small groups. Basically, it's a group of people that meet outside of the regular church service to do a bible study. Bo Hunkmeister and I have became part of one particular group about five years ago when we were introduced to another couple that had a lot of kids - those counter culture types! Since that time this group has evolved into about six couples and I've lost count of the number of children but it's waaay past 20. We've done bible studies, pot lucks, happy hours, the men have gone target shooting, and the ladies have done lunch numerous times. But mostly we've "done life" together. Helped each other with child care, large house projects, car problems, etc. We've gone beyond discussing news, sports and weather (mostly because some of us know nothing of sports) and have asked each other those challenging questions and supported each other through tough times.

Now when I first found out I was expecting Gummi, I was a little nervous as I had given away all my baby stuff. I know, I know, giving away all your baby stuff is a sure fire way to guarantee pregnancy. Hear me when I tell you, I had nothing for this baby but a stroller and a few blankets. But yesterday, these guys stepped up and threw me a doozy of a baby shower. Gummi now has more clothes than Paris Hilton. And even more special when you're a hormonal pregnant woman, they made all my favorite foods for me. I have never felt more blessed and humbled by the generosity shown by these guys yesterday. I'd tell my small group this in person but then I'd start crying and the other ladies would get weepy and then the guys would feel uncomfortable with all these women weeping and laughing. So I will leave it here on the blog. You guys showed Bo and me a Christ like love and we feel so blessed to be part of this group. Thank you.

Julie

I'm not quite sure what first brought Julie (not her real name) to my door. I had met her niece Donna (not her real name either) who lives with her by happenstance about three years ago. At least that's what the height marker on the kitchen wall records. One summer, Donna and her friends were playing with the garden hose in a neighbor's driveway. After getting some weak excuse for why she was trespassing, I offered my own lawn sprinkler for her and her friends to run through.

After a few more visits to my sprinkler, Donna started to hang out at our house, playing with my kids. She also started asking to use the phone or for rides to places as there was no phone service where she lived and her mom was somewhat unreliable for transportation. I'm not sure how the knowledge of my helpfulness spread to Julie but it did. And soon Julie began appearing and asking to use my phone, or for a cup of milk or something else.

At this point, let me tell you that I thought I was living the Christian edict of 'love thy neighbor' pretty well. I've made dinners for the new moms in the neighborhood, had bbq's with some of them, lent tools and stuff out. But that was easy. Mostly because the 'loving' fit into my schedule. And because the neighbors I helped were like me. And you know what I mean by that. Julie, unintentionally, started to challenge that.

Let me tell you about Julie. She's the child of a single parent home. She's one of four but she has ten other step-siblings as her father has been with three other women since her mom (not married but "been with" as she says). She asked if that woman she saw at my house the other day was my mom or just a woman my dad was with. She can be loud when she's on the phone. She doesn't have a good relationship with her daughter. She sometimes shows up at my house in her pajamas. And without some healthy boundaries, she can ask a lot of a person.

At first, I would get irritated. I would be in the middle of something when the door bell rings and it's Julie needing the phone. Then she needed a ride somewhere. Once she asked for something to give her mom for dinner. It was the end of the month and I'm trying to stay within a budget and all we have tonight is this tuna noodle casserole which I wasn't sure was going to feed all seven of us and here she is asking for one more serving....but how can I say no? I literally asked God, "Is my five noodles and two cans of tuna going to feed the multitudes?"

Now here's the thing: the kids would pick up on my irritation. They would mimic my heavy sighs when to doorbell rang. Here I am trying to teach the children to be cheerful givers, to help those in need and what was I showing them?

So I resolved to be cheerful in helping Julie. In Matthew 25, the King (God) tells us "whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." So this is what I was to do: help the "least of these." Julie, unintentionally, started to challenge that too.

You see, that's how I viewed her, as the "least of these." I was becoming prideful that I was helping this poor woman. Until one day, while trying to make breakfast for my kids, I realized I had no eggs. Julie, after using the phone, offered me hers. For some reason, I felt awkward about accepting her eggs. After all, she's the one in need and I'm the one who's supposed to be helping her. But I needed to feed my children. "What’s mine is yours," she said. That's when it struck me. My pride made me think I was the only who could help and not the other way around. What I should have been doing was just trying to be her friend. Another time, she chased some teenagers out of my yard because she knew they weren't supposed to be there. She also rescued damage packages that UPS left on my porch in the rain when I wasn't home and then safely delivered them to me later.

Choking down one's preconceived notions, prejudices and stereo-types is hard business. I don't care how enlightened you may think you are, when push comes to shove, we act, consciously or unconsciously, out of these three things. Julie's helped me see that.

And so while we come from different backgrounds and circumstances, I don't want to be "the helpful lady across the street." I want to be her friend. I want to be her neighbor. I think I'll be a better person for that.

Proud.

I'm proud to be an American. I know that phrase gets throw around to the point it doesn't mean much any more. But I am. We live in a great land. My reasons for thinking this go from the small and mundane (I was able to get my car fixed in one day) to the significant and historic (I saw the first African-American elected president).

I am especially proud that we can have such strenuous discourse over who should lead our land, but in the end, someone is elected, there's a parade, a lunch, and the next day the new guy assumes office. No riots, no calling in the militia, no incumbent declaring the election void. Those who supported Obama are energized and ready to get to work. To them I say, "Bravo! Let's get at it!" To those who didn't support Obama, we should be equally energized that our nation has had 44 changes of office (we can discuss Lincoln later) without being torn apart. Not many other nations can make this claim. Let's also get back to the business of making this country better. To Jerry Springer, I say how dare you show all that is wrong with America (knuckle dragging men fighting over women who are an embarrassment to the sex) on such a historic day.

Reread the text of the Obama's inauguration speech here. There's stuff in there that we all, Democrat and Republican, liberal and conservative, need to not only hear, but act on in our own spheres of influence. I especially liked the quote at the end by George Washington, "Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive...that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet (it)."

Now I'm going to go bake some biscotti before this hormonal pregnant lady starts getting weepy.

A Call To Arms!

I don't like getting political here because my ideas are usually in the minority and I'm all ready considered counter cultural enough for homeschooling my 20 kids. I'm also not one to scream and yell about what executives are getting paid because that's up to the company bean counters and shareholders to deal with. If they want to pay Joe Average one million a year to fill a fancy office, that's their prerogative because this is America and we have that freedom. However, when I heard that after recognizing the US is in a recession, signing a bail out bill in the trillions and fussing at the auto executives for flying private planes, Congress gave themselves a raise, I had to say something. After all, we, the people, are the share holders in this corporation called the USA, and while not immoral or illegal, I think it's the height of poor judgment to give yourself a raise when you know your company is in the weeds. It would be like me fussing at Bo Hunkmeister for blowing our budget and then going out to Kohl's for a new wardrobe. And none of those guys and gals on the hill are in desperate need of that raise to make next month's mortgage payment.

Now thanks to the magic of the Internet, we can have ready access to our representatives.

Here in Lil' Rhody we have:

Representative Patrick Kennedy
patrick.kennedy@mail.house.gov
202-225-4911 (D.C.)
401-729-5600 (here in Pawtucket)
number for his Chief of staff, Adam Brand 202-225-4911
WTH?!? He has a chief of staff?? This implies more than one staff person!! When do I get staff?!?

Representative Jim Langevin
202-225-2735
401-732-9400
his Chief of Staff, Kristin Nicholson 202-225-2735
Bo Hunkmeister has been holding out on me about this staff thing!

Senator Jack Reed
202-224-4642
401-943-3100
Neil Campbell, Chief of Staff 202-224-4642
This guy has a media director, chief of staff AND a scheduler. Can I get a scheduler? I'm two month behind on the kid's history lessons here.

Senator Sheldon Whitehouse
202-224-2921
401-453-5294
Mindy Myers, Chief of Staff 202-224-2921

Go to Project Vote Smart to find your guys and give them a call or drop an e-mail. Be polite and respectful, but ask:
1. Is now a good time to give yourself a raise?
2. Where is the money coming from?
3. In light of the needs facing the average American, is this a good use of the voter's tax dollars?

I'm curious to know what they would say.

Merry Christmas!

This is our new electronic Christmas card! Also known as “I couldn’t get my act together to do the real thing!” Every Christmas, I normally make baked goods for the neighbors, decorate the house, and make Christmas cards with the kids to mail to our friends and relatives. This year, I’m counting it progress that I’ve vacuumed recently. I actually thought about just buying some Christmas cards and sending them out, but my Art-School-Itis kicked in.

We are also trying to save money for our new 25 passenger van (with flame decals) to accommodate our growing brood. Considering the cost of postage these days and the lack of a government bailout for my Christmas plans, something had to go. I mean, my card mailing list used to be about 60 people, but courtesy of Facebook, that list has grown to 150. Besides, by blogging I can tell you more of what’s going on in our lives because I love to hear what’s going on in your lives.

So here goes...

In April, we received a new play set with help from the grandparents.

With four boys, this one ought to last at least two years before it begs to be put out to pasture. If we have any more kids, we might ask the grandparents for help with the purchase of a cattle ranch somewhere out west.

In May, Bo Hunkmeister did his piratey thing.

I think he makes an excellent pirate. I had started making plans in my head to join him for next year's encampment but God had other ideas – like Baby Number 6 (who is still being referred to as Gummi – any suggestions for alternative names will be gladly considered).

The big event of the year was our RV trip to Oklahoma. We all had a terrific time and being true children of the new millennium, we blogged about it here. We hope one day to do a trip all the way across the U.S.

In September, we went to North Carolina to visit my brother. Luckily, no hamsters were harmed on this trip and a fun time was had by all (right, guys?… guys?). Again, I emphasize, get thee to a southern pot luck!

Justin still works for Newfangled Web Factory, a fabulous company (oh, hey Mark) and if any of you have a large corporation that wants its website re-done, these guys are top shelf. I’m still homeschooling the kids in between making desserts with too much sugar in them.

As for the children, they’re still growing despite my protestations.

Princess Buttercup is now 11, a lovely young lady who takes her nose out of a book only long enough to sleep, eat and periodically shower.
Princess Git-Er-Done is nine, a promising violinist and all ready showing herself to be quite the capable mother, albeit some 10-12 years earlier than necessary.
W. Bear just turned seven and is showing signs of becoming an engineer. If you’re lucky, he'll show you some of his cool dance moves.
Tater, who’s four, loves to sing, is learning to write and still knows how to charm the dickens out of Mom.
And that leaves two-year old Baby and, well I've already blogged enough about him.

But enough about me, how about you? Thank you to all who sent us cards (and delivered some yummy baked goods!)
Carolyn – congrats on the new baby! Any names yet?
Maura – congrats on the new baby! Any names yet?
(what is with all you ladies having babies, anyway?)
Maresy – your kids are too cute. Where’s Marilyn?
Bob – find the body yet?
John – you have fine young men there. By the way, Happy Birthday.
Judy – thank you for your kind words, we’d love for you to visit if you’re ever in New England.
Lisa – your girls are beautiful.
Kate – your girls are beautiful too and you need to have a book contract (I didn't take your car).

I wish you all a wonderful holiday and many blessings in the new year!

French Toast Panic!

The weathermen have predicted a huge snow storm for tomorrow. This of course sends millions of Rhode Islanders to the grocery store for milk and bread despite the fact that the weathermen are notoriously wrong. The Weathermen Underground was actually a group of people during the 60's who had to go underground because they were getting weather predictions accurate and this cheesed off the mainstream, right wing elitist weathermen ("We can't have accuracy! That's just too...too...helpful!"). Wait, no, I just made that up...

Anyway, wondering what to do with your abundant stash of milk and bread?

Baked French Toast
(courtesy of my sister-in-law)

1 lb of bread
8 eggs
3 cups milk
2 teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon cinnamon

Spray a 9 x 13 pan with non-stick spray. Rip bread into bite size pieces and put in pan. Mix eggs, milk, vanilla, and cinnamon in a bowl and pour evenly over bread. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

Topping
6 tablespoons butter
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon corn syrup

Melt butter in small sauce pan. Mix the sugar and corn syrup in and simmer until bubbling (stir occasionally). Pour over top of dish French Toast and bake uncovered at 350 for 40 minutes.

If you're nice to me, I'll share my Mexican Hot Chocolate recipe.

This is What I Want

Ok, forget what I said about the home/waterbirth thing. This hospital in Taiwan is where I really want to have my baby.

Hi, I'm on Crack

I'm six months pregnant. I've got five kids. I homeschool 'em. Why am I telling you this? To drive home the fact that time and energy is not something I'm basking in. So when my six year old son asks me, "Can I have that Candy Land Cake for my birthday?" Do I try to steer him to something a little bit more manageable? Heck no! I say, "Sure honey!" Why? It's Art-School-Itis.

Art-School-Itis is a non-treatable genetic trait which is exacerbated by attending an art school where you're taught stuff like how to make clothing from some glue sticks and gauche. I know what you're thinking, "But Domestic Goddess, lots of people are crafty like that." I know, but Art-School-Itis takes it that special, interpretive step further. Art-School-Itis is more than just the overwhelming desire to wear black, listen to the Smiths and drink far too much coffee. It's the inability to walk away from a creative challenge. It's the nagging voice in your head every time you see something that says, "I could make that." It's the overwhelming desire to craft mushrooms out of meringue for a yule log because cut up marshmallows just don't reflect the essence of a real woodland mushroom. It's the whacked out notion that with a glue gun and a few found objects, you could probably build a car with superior gas mileage.

So when my kids ask for a cake, I can't just order a pretty one from Wal-Mart. I can't even get a cake and doctor it a bit. No, I have to spend four hours and $25.00 on candy. Don't let my nutritionist mother in law see this post. She's liable to call social services on me.

If anyone knows of a support group, please let me know. But first I have to finish this medieval shirt for my brother.

Random Thoughts #2

1. If I'm the Domestic Goddess, then my parents are Grandparent Dieties. They took my three little boys to their house for a week. The peace and quiet here at Casa La Diva was, it the words of Cory Booker, pure "deliciousness." Of course, now that the puppies are back here, my mother is befuddled by the enormous silence at her house.

2. Bo Hunkmeister wrote a thought provoking post here. Give him some comment crack, y'all.

3. If anyone knows of an obstetrician or midwife willing to let me do a VBAC in the state of Rhode Island, please call me. If you know some one willing to let me birth in a jacuzzi, I'll throw in $100 finder's fee for you.

4. See this little bundle of cuteness?

Hard to believe that he once pushed my stomach up so high that I'd get heartburn in my eye balls. Or that he'd do a rendition of Lord of the Dance on my bladder every morning at 6:00 am. Or that he made me want to eat everything in a ten mile radius. Hard to believe he's going to be 7 in a few days.

5. Speaking of babies, I have to take a three hour glucose tolerance test on Saturday. That means not eating anything past 10:00 pm on Friday and then subsisting all Saturday morning on a hideously sweet drink all while getting four blood tests. I can't help but think if men got pregnant, there would be a better test than this. Like, eat this pizza, have a beer and we'll give you one blood test while you watch "Remember the Titans".

Finally, Someone Who Understands Me....

Mrs. Bear!

from the photographer:
"Black bears typically have 2 cubs, rarely 1 or 3. In 2007, in northern New Hampshire, a black bear sow gave birth to 5 healthy young... After spending nearly 4 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 6 weeks, I had that once in a lifetime opportunity and photographed them in the shadows and dull lighting of the evening... The print is properly focused and well exposed with all 6 bears posing as if they were in a studio for a family portrait. "

Of course, Bo Hunkmeister, graphic designer extraordinaire, couldn't help but put his touch on the photo.


I can only imagine the comments Mrs. Bear gets:
"Are they all yours? By the same bear?"
"You forest-school them? Is that legal?"
"How do you keep up with all your cubs? I can bearly handle my two!"
yes, bad pun

Seen Any Kisses?

It's been a whole week since I've started looking for the Hershey kisses that Bo Hunkmeister hid through the house. As of 6:28 this evening, I'm up to 71. Only four more to go!! I might need to hire some people to come help me look. Bo said I couldn't use our kids but he said nothing about hired guns.

Some of you ladies have told me, "Oh, I wish my husband would do something like that." You have to remember that your spouse probably has some other wonderful qualities that Bo doesn't have, and that you can celebrate that special quality in your man. What qualities Bo is lacking, I don't know, but I suppose there's got to be one. And no gagging out there over that last statement, you were warned in my earlier posts about my esteem for the Bo Hunkmeister.

Now some of you guys have told Bo, "Hey, you're making us look bad." All I can say is, "STEP OFF!" Don't diss my man! That's the hormones speaking, if you hadn't already guessed.

Anyway, I might have to put the kiss search on hold in light of Thanksgiving. Tomorrow marks the beginning of the Cooking-Fest-O-Rama: brining the bird, dicing, chopping and sneaking bits of bacon when no one is looking.

Hope you have a wonderful holiday and remember - pace yourself!

Random Thoughts

1. In case you haven't been reading faithfully (what?!? you haven't?!? I'm hurt!), Bo Hunkmeister has hidden 75 Hershey's Kisses around our house. If I find them all, I get a dinner out. The up side is that as of today, I'm at 65. The down side of all this is that I'm finding lots of nasty, dusty spots in my house.

2. Princess Buttercup found this website in a magazine: FreeRice. It's a site that has vocabulary tests, geography tests, and other tests. The gig is for each question you get correct, rice will be donated to a family in need. They explain it all a lot better than I do at their FAQ page. Anyways, the kids are having lots of fun filling the rice bowl, and (this is music to a homeschooler's ears) they're doing schoolwork without even knowing it.

3. Blue Cross/Blue Shield is dropping two major hospitals from its network over a payment dispute. The two hospitals that happen to have the highest delivery rates in the state. You'd think that BC/BS wouldn't want a bunch of angry pregnant ladies on their front step. Didn't their mommas teach them not to mess with pregnant ladies?

4. Cory Booker, mayor of Newark, NJ, said in an interview after election day that he wants to celebrate America's "racial deliciousness." Deliciousness? Of my many positive qualities, I never thought of myself as edible.

What the Over Achieving Mom Does for Her Son's Birthday

I found this on Cake Wrecks



Go here to see how it's done.

Can I eat the cake scraps?

Mr. Fabulosity Himself - Bo Hunkmeister!

I had a very good weekend. It started Saturday with Bo taking the kids to a movie while Baby took a nap. That meant two hours by myself in a quiet house. All those with small children out there know what I mean.

Then today we went to church, and some girlfriends and I went for a shopping/lunch trip straight after. Not only do I return four hours later to a house cleaner than I left it (including the infamous mess known as my dining room table), but I find a note on my kitchen cabinet:

My dear, hidden through out the house are 75 Hershey Kisses for you to find. Find 20 and get a Dunkin' Donuts latte, find 40 and get a foot rub, find 60 and Bo will cook dinner on the evening of your choice, find all 75 and Bo will take you out to dinner.

Suffice to say, within 5 minutes I had found 40 of them. Bo was impressed until I reminded him that asking a pregnant woman to sniff out chocolate was like asking a normal person to breath. Not only was he asking a pregnant lady to find chocolate, but there was the added incentive of being taken out to dinner. Chocolate? Dinner out? Say no more!

He did add the condition that I could not have the children help me find the kisses (darn! he knows me too well). So as of 7:30 pm, I only have 20 more chocolates to find. I'm putting out a prayer request for psychic abilities. Of course, part of this is entertainment for Bo as he watches his wife turn into a three year old, running through the house looking for chocolate.

Princess Buttercup, bless her heart, asked Bo, "Does she get to collect all the prizes or does she have to pick just one?"
To which Bo replied, "No, she can have all the prizes."

Remind me to slip Buttercup a five spot tomorrow. After my dinner out.

Public Service Announcement #324

I laughed so hard I wet myself. Some of you might have seen these before but I felt the need to share some laughs with the world
Weight Watchers recipe cards from the 70's

Parenting Advice?!?

Sandy left a comment on my last blog asking for parenting tips. After I stopped laughing and picked myself up off the floor, here's what I came up with so far:

1. Rejoice in the small things.
Anything from "Hey! He said a new word today" to "Well, at least he didn't puke on the carpet!" (usually the latter ones are the situations I most rejoice in)

2. Have a sense of humor
see above

3. Have lots of kids
If you have two kids and one becomes a miscreant, you have a 50% failure record as a parent. If you have six and one heads south, your failure record is only 17%.

4. Make those kiddies work!
A two year old can help throw stuff on the washing machine, pull stuff out of a grocery bag, etc. The sooner they get used to helping, the better.

5. Ask for help (did I say that?)
Forget about parenting books from people who only have one kid and a degree from Harvard. Ask your friends what worked/didn't work for them. Remember, there is nothing new under the sun; there have been other moms who's kids have run pant-less down the street in broad daylight (not that... mine...ever did...)

Well that's it for now. I'll post more after cocktail hour nap time, if I think of any.

Bo, any contributions?

Some Funny Things

At least I think so.

1. I wrote a book review of Trisha Ashworth and Amy Nobile's "I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids: Reinventing Modern Motherhood" on Amazon. The same rambunctious one I wrote here expect for being a bit more condensed. Anyway, I looked up the review the other day and some one left a comment "Do you even have children?" Yeah, just a few....

2. W. Bear, my son was reading the list of character traits we have hanging up on our wall (because I'm that kind of homechooling mom) and says, "Well, I tried self control but I didn't like it."

3. I asked Princess Buttercup why she was fretting so much over her Christmas list in early November. She replies, "It's my pensive nature, Mom!"

4. I turned down a piece of chocolate after dinner and W. Bear says, "Oh no! Mom's lost her mind!" Tater says, "Oh no!!" W. Bear says, "Oh no! We're being dramatic!"

5. I'm giving a spelling test to Buttercup and I say, "The word is forty-eight, in ten years I'll be forty-eight." W. Bear says, "Mom, that makes you thirty-eight now."
Buttercup says, "No W., she's twenty-nine!"

P.S. Check out the award winning love cook create knit's free giveaway.

Ooo!! I Need a Dress for the Award Ceremony!

My blog friend, Lori (whom I actually met in real life) gave me this award. She's a homeschool mom like me with seven (gasp!) kids. Go check out her blog "Reflections and Ramblings of a Not-So-Super Woman" and give her some comment crack love.

Thanks Lori! You made my day!



Now for receiving the award, here are the conditions:

1. The award can be displayed on the recipient's blog.
2. Add a link to the person from who you received the award.
3. Nominate up to seven other blogs.
4. Add their links to your blog.
5. Send a message to each of those you awarded to tell them about the award.

I'm going to follow Lori's lead and only nominate one. That way I won't have to rack my pregnant brain to think of six more. I nominate "love cook create knit". She always has something interesting to say and I like her blogs on exploring a more environmentally friendly/frugal way of life. Rock on ladies!