Hosting Denial

Chris and I went from having no plans on New Years Eve to hosting a dinner/wii playing party for six. I am clearly in denial about tonight's festivities as my house is a disaster (toys! toys! and gigantic plastic roller coaster!); I (and the kids) are still in pjs; and I am surfing online rather than doing anything I need to do. (Except for my lovely chocolate mocha layer cake I made this morning. Because, of course, dessert is always my priority, right?)

Denial is a wonderful thing. Happy New Year!

The Overnight

One of my gifts to Chris was a trip overnight to ski. I have to admit that the gift is as much a gift to him as it is to me. A night away to regroup, to have some quiet time and to simply enjoy each other without distractions is precious when you have little ones out and about your home.

I love the overnight trip. It's perfect. It's not too long that I feel guilty about leaving the kids. It's not too long that I miss them horribly. And it's just long enough to feel as if you have truly had a chance to get away from it all.

The overnight allows me to fall a little more in love with my husband, all over again. We laugh a whole lot. We talk more than I think possible. And I am reminded how lucky I am to share my life with this man.

Yes, it truly is a gift to me just as much as it is to him.

Christmas

I had dreamed the boys would sleep in on Christmas, given their late party night on Christmas Eve. I should know better. Aidan was the first one up, at 6:45 a.m. and crawled into bed with us to impatiently wait for his brothers to awaken.

He didn't have long to wait. The whole crew was up and downstairs by 7:30. The boys oohed and ahhed over the pile of presents and overstuffed stockings, but rather than dashing to rip open wrapping paper immediately - they each ran under the tree to get the presents they had made and bought for Chris and me. This was the most perfect present they each could have given us. To see our children more interested and engaged in the giving, rather than the receiving, made me believe, just for a moment, that we may be on the right track. (I lost this optimism an hour later when all three of them were engaged in a knock down drag out fight over the Batmobile Big Wheel. But it was truly nice while it lasted.)

Brennan made us a snowman picture ornament, complete with a picture of himself in his favorite Batman t-shirt. Aidan used his very own money to buy me a stylin', oh so fancy, pair of cubic zirconia jeweled earrings from Avon at his Elves's Magic Workshop at school. They match the jeweled ring he bought me last year. (He is so incredibly proud of both the ring and the earrings he has bought me. He calls them "my jewels." And yes, they do make me cry. Of course, they do. ) On the other hand, Aidan bought Chris a tape measure. (Last year he bought him a ruler. There may be a theme here.)

The present unwrapping was over much too quickly for all of us except Griffin. Griffin opened up one gift, his Batmobile Big Wheel, and then refused to open up another one for hours. I think all of it may have overwhelmed him a bit and he decided to take the whole thing at his own pace. Aidan and Brennan opted to dive right into as many toys as they could handle. The favorite must have been the Nerf tag set - complete with Daddy getting into the fun. (Chris may have enjoyed this toy just as much as the boys. Maybe more. The next day, my brothers also loved it so much that I need to hunt down a few more and ship it to them in NYC.)

Brennan's Batman underoos were a hit for Brennan. He promptly put them on and kept them on for the next 36 hours. It was almost impossible to convince him he had to put on clothes to go over to my Aunt's for Christmas dinner. After finally agreeing to get dressed he turned to me and said, "But, can I take my clothes off when I get there?"

And finally, fantastic photographic evidence that my husband got into the Nerf fun with great enthusiasm. If only I had time to post the video of Chris chasing the kids around the house and blasting each other. It's a keeper.


We ended Christmas day with dinner at my Aunt's and more quality time with family. We managed to sneak in even more celebration with a nice dinner out with my brothers, mom and sister in law the day after Christmas. We spent most of dinner taking turns telling stories from our formative years - trying to out do each other with our comic tales. At one point, Chris begged us to stop because he was laughing so hard he was crying. Tennille and I were also wiping tears from our eyes from giggling so hard our sides hurt. The only one not laughing? My poor mother... who may have just realized what little hellions we all were back in the day.

But wait... there's more. Christmas continued into Saturday. We celebrated Saturday morning with Chris's family. I wasn't sure we could fit even one more toy into our house, but somehow we now have a toddler roller coaster now set up in our kitchen. Color me happy. I think it's time we considered finishing the basement once and for all.

And now it's over, sort of. Today, Chris and I are off to our own celebration. As part of his present, I convinced my mother and brother Travis to take the kids overnight so we could go away on a skiing adventure. (Well, skiing for him and a whole lot of reading by the fireplace for me. It's a win/win for us both.) The quiet and peace of an empty hotel room may be the best present I could have asked for this year. (As long as I know I can return to the noise, chaos and love of the boys after I am completely (or even somewhat) rejuvenated.)

Christmas Eve: Let Chaos Reign

Christmas Eve is my favorite day of the year. My extended family gathers at my grandparents' house and decks the halls with good cheer, much wine, amazing food and lots of complete chaos. My boys go crazy at the chance to be loved up by their cousins for hours and hours. There is much laughter, a lot of running and giggling, some games, a whole lot of Wii challenges and always, our traditional Italian feast made special by Nana.

The boys partied the night away and set the record for bedtime - 9:30 pm. It was hard to tear any of us away from the celebration with family. Aidan was huddled with his cousin Patrick, learning moves for his new skateboard. Brennan was engaged in tickling contests with his cousins Casey and Bridget. And Griffin was cruising around the house on his new Star Wars scooter, entertaining everyone with his favorite phrase "No Way Jose." Chris and I, on the other hand, had many a battle over Wii tennis. (The end result wasn't pretty. And not in our favor either.)

Above all, each and every time I am among my family, I feel blessed to know each of them, to love them and to see them love my children. (Even if my brothers and my cousins kicked my ass in Wii tennis and trash talked through the whole beatings. Even then.

A Little Bit of Snow

Yes, we may have gotten just a little bit of snow on Sunday. Just a bit.

Bottle It Up

I love the smell of my children. I wish I could inhale them whole, permanently burning their smell into my brain. I spend quite a lot of time around them kissing and hugging them just so I can breathe them in with deep sighs.

I want their sweet little boy smell to stay with me forever. But I grew up with two brothers and I know I am living on borrowed time. Boys get, well, a little stinky. With their stinky clothes and smelly feet and just, well, stinky, stinky, stinky.

I worry about this. I don't want to forget their little boy smell. I wish I could bottle up their scent to hold as a memory, to stay with me when I am old and grey. But without this assurance, I just keep kissing and hugging, breathing them in and hoping against hope, that I will always remember the aroma of my little boys.

Whew

I'm tired. Take two birthdays in one month, add in the craziness of the holidays, some cocktail parties and required holiday schmoozing, and a strangely busy work world for December - and I'm beat. I'm overwhelmed. I'm just plain exhausted.

I love Christmas. I love the season - every last bit of it. But every year, I swear, I PROMISE, I will get more done ahead of time so I can relax and enjoy it. And every year, about a week out from Christmas, I want to wave a white flag of surrender. I give up. Christmas wins. Now can I go take a nap?


But today, I have a blizzard to thank for a return of a slice of my sanity. We were struck with a major snowstorm, stranding us at home with no where to go, no errands to run and no visits to make. The boys played (somewhat) cooperatively and nicely. We made cut out cookies. We all took naps. I read a book while Aidan snuggled next to me and read a book at my side. We giggled over Griffin's antics with a football. Brennan chased everyone round and round the house with his new remote control Batmobile. It was relaxing. It was stress free. It was a perfect Sunday for December.

I have to admit I am sort of hoping the snow stays put. At least for another day.

The B is Four

Today, Brennan is four.

At four, Brennan loves hockey, marbles, super heroes and Star Wars. He is still our family comedian, eager to get us giggling with his jokes and funny faces. He loves to build space ships with legos and battle light sabers with his brothers. He is our resident expert at games of Memory and can beat anyone, anywhere (even Aidan). He stockpiles little lego men, squirreling them away in his room to hide from his brothers.

He is a cuddler and loves nothing more than to be "comfy." If he could be wrapped up in a mountain of fleece, he'd be a happy guy. His favorite thing to do when he wakes up in the morning is to cuddle up with a soft blanket or two on the couch and watch a Franklin. His brothers will be running for breakfast or to play, but our B. prefers to greet the day with a sleepy smile, some cuddles and quiet time snuggled up in peace.

But once he is up to greet the day, he is truly up - enthusiastic and energetic and ready to take on the world. He doesn't tire easily and is always the last to fall asleep at night. I will hear him at night telling himself stories out loud or singing songs again and again (and again) until at last, almost reluctantly, he succumbs to sleep.

Brennan can recite the book "You Can Give a Pig a Pancake" by heart, preferring to "read" it to his Daddy, rather than the other way around. He has started to write his own name and is unbelievably proud of his letter B.

He loves the snow and will play outside until his cheeks are bright red, his nose frozen solid and his gloves streaked with ice. He spends hours with Aidan in the backyard, digging and sledding down our hill. But his favorite part of all is to retreat inside (at last) to hot chocolate and heaps of mini-marshmallows. (And when I say "heaps", I truly mean "HEAPS.")

Brennan is our happy, go lucky soul. A little boy content with a marble in his pocket, the promise of spiderman mac n' cheese and lots of hugs from his family. He says "I love you" about a million and one times a day to me. I soak it up each and every time he says it, so happy to say it right back to my sweet, loving little boy.

Happy four to our B. You bring us joy, my sweet boy - so much joy.

Rock Star

Griffin is our resident rock star, complete with a construction worker hat and backyardigans guitar. We may send him on tour.

Let's Get Dressed in the Morning

On the three days I work, Chris and I are like a finely oiled machine in the mornings. We manage to get ourselves and three boys up and out of the house in an hour. There is no messing around here, no siree. You eat. You get dressed. And we are off to conquer the day.

Sometimes this fast paced morning juggle hits a bump or two in the road. It happened with Griffin a few weeks ago. Each morning I bring Griffin downstairs and change him for school. I leave his pajama top on for breakfast (he's a messy eater!) and Chris changes him into this school shirt while I am getting dressed for work upstairs. On many mornings, the boys are already in their coats ready to go by the time I come back downstairs. This is why I never noticed this one morning, that Chris forgot to change Griffin out of his pajama top and into his shirt laid out for school.

The teachers sure noticed though when I picked Griffin up after school and I immediately burst into loud guffaws of laughter at seeing my two year old finishing his day in his maple syrup encrusted pajama top. I haven't let Chris live it down since.

Today, I was getting Brennan in his classroom at pick up when I noticed his pants were a little long. I rolled them up for him as I commented, "Wow, B. I guess these hand me down pants were still a little big for you."

The teacher heard me, smiled and said, "Yes, and they were also on backwards."

I looked at her as I stood up and asked, "Backwards? His pants?"

The teacher laughed and as if she couldn't help herself, she said with some glee, "Not only were his pants on backwards, but his shirt was on backwards too."

Great. My kid is the child who gets sent to school with his clothes on completely backwards and his parents don't blink an eye. Just a finely oiled morning machine, right?!

Winter Wonderland

We took the boys to a kiddie holiday party yesterday.

Nutcrackers greeted us at the door with holiday coloring books. The boys met Santa and got some special elf magic dust. They had caricatures done and made ornaments. They even got to bounce their heads off in a holiday themed bounce house. And of course, Griffin busted many a move (with the assistance of his "buddy" Ryan) to the deejay spinning kiddie holiday tunes. It was kiddie holiday heaven, complete with pizza logs on the buffet and an all you can eat sundae bar for dessert.

Just Another Sunday Morning

While most people are still snug in their beds, content to roll over for a few more hours of indulgent Sunday morning sleep, my kiddies are up and about, engaged in a fierce battle of hockey in the playroom.

Welcome to a Sunday morning in our house:

I have to believe there will be a day when I will sleep in again. I MUST believe.

The Celebration of Two

The birthday elves decorated Griffin's room while he slept. He awoke to balloons scattered on his floor, taped to his door and stuck on his chair at the kitchen table. Moments after awaking, he opened his presents and was thrilled with his birthday cake play set and new Superman shirt. He, of course, demanded to wear his new shirt immediately, after which he jumped up high in the air and told us, "Now. I fly. I FLY!" He then proceeded to run circles around the house.

Everyone got into the fun. The boys all got a bit goofy. I'm not sure if it was even 7 am yet.

Later that day, we celebrated the year of two with our standard fare of pizza and cake. Griffin was loved up by his family, cousins, aunts, grandparents and brothers. There were presents galore.

It's good to be two.

Griffin at Two

My last, sweet little baby boy is two.

At two, you have a mind of your own to rival that of an adults. You know what you want, when you want it and you expect all of us in your vicinity to get it for you... quickly. Your personality is so strong that your father has nicknamed you the "tyrant".

But if you are a tyrant (and you are, just a bit), you are a lovable one. You are a cuddler and a hugger. You give kisses and exude love to everyone in your family. You refuse to go to bed at night without hugging both of your brothers at least twice.

You are the happiest of our brood in the morning. You wake up, eager to start each day with absolute glee. You are running, giggling and jumping well before breakfast. Your happiness is infectious for all of us. You give us a heaping dose of morning joy to welcome the day.

You love to sing. You really love to dance. Your latest obsession is your electric guitar that you dance and sing along with for your adoring audience. You also love to play kitchen and go grocery shopping, but your absolute favorite is to play hockey. You grab our mini hockey sticks, a puck and hit around the house for hours. You were destroyed to discover you weren't signed up to learn ice hockey with your brothers. I think the fellow parents at the ice rink are still laughing over the irate almost two year old screaming, "I HOCKEY. I HOCKEY. ME TOO, Momma! I CAN HOCKEY TOO."

You are independent and spirited. You amaze me with how quickly you learn new things. You speak in complete sentences with confidence. You like to pretend you are much older than you are. But, selfishly, I want you to remain our baby. Please do not grow up too fast. We want to hold onto you for much, much longer.

Happy Two, my sweet tyrant of a boy. (even if you keep telling everyone you are four.)

Tackle

The boys love when their uncles come to visit. They love the attention, the play, the fun. But what they love most, is to tackle and attack their uncles with abandon.

It's rough to have three nephews. It is not a job for the faint of heart.

The Hunt for the Tree

Our family tradition is to welcome Christmas the Saturday after Thanksgiving by traveling out to a local tree farm and selecting our trees. We pick a tall, chubby tree for our living room and a small Charlie Brown of a tree for upstairs near the boys' rooms. We have been going to the same tree farm since we moved back to Buffalo - over 8 years ago. The same man has helped us each year and watched our family grow for each holiday.

I look forward to this day quite a bit. I also tend to get a little overemotional each year. This year, I spent the drive to the farm singing along with Christmas carols, but also trying to hide the growing tears in my eyes. We are so blessed. We are healthy. We are happy. I feel just so very fortunate to have all of it.

We quickly found two perfect trees. The boys accepted their celebratory candy canes with glee. And we headed home to usher the holiday season into our home.

Sly

My brothers, Seth and Trav, sister in law Tennille and Trav's girlfriend Lynda stopped over this morning with my mom to play with the boys. Casually, I asked them what their plans were for the rest of the day.

Tennille responded, "Nothing much. Just hanging out."

We couldn't have that now, could we? With that, I declared that it would be wonderful for all them to have some extra time with the boys. They should take them somewhere! A movie! A store! To lunch! To Chuck E Cheese!

And Chuck E Cheese it was.

Sadly, I told them that I had to stay home with Griffin while he took a much needed nap.

Before they left, Seth asked me what time they needed to have them back.

As I pushed them all out the door, I told him, "Whenever. We have no plans. Feel free to keep them until bedtime!"

I only wish I had video of all of them skeeballing in kiddie hell. I'd pay money for even just a picture.

Until then, Griffin naps. I shop online in a peaceful quiet home, watching the snow fall outside. I could get used to this, I think. I may just have to redouble my efforts to get the NYC contingent of my family to move back to our parts. Just imagine the possibilities. I'm thinking... sleepovers!

Thankful

The boys and I greeted Thanksgiving morning with homemade cinnamon buns. What exactly made me believe it was a good idea to have my children play with flour, mere hours before we would host dinner for 12? I have no idea. I plead insanity.

But those sugary, buttery cinnamon goodness may have made my flour caked floors all worth it in the end. As we ate our creations, the boys and I discussed Thanksgiving and the meaning of the term "thankful."

Aidan announced, "I am thankful for you and daddy loving me. And clothes and food. My toys and our family."

Brennan smiled and said, "I am thankful for hugs." (I know it is impossible to believe this statement can get any cuter, but picture Brennan saying it with a face stained with cinnamon and cream cheese frosting on his nose.)

I turned to Griffin and asked, "Griffin, what are you thankful for?"

Griffin, with a mouth full, managed to mutter, "Cimmamom bums."

After breakfast, we spent the morning rounding up the toys and legos and warrior men littering our home in order to make it look (somewhat) presentable. We set the table. We dressed the kiddies. We cloroxed wiped the house. And then we awaited the food.

My mother and father in law arrived shortly thereafter bearing cooked turkey, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and well, a whole host of turkey day dinner materials. (It's a snap to host when you aren't really cooking all that much.)

We ate and ate some more. Griffin devoured his entire plateful of Thanksgiving dinner and Aidan had TWO helpings of turkey. We had to admit to shock to see Aidan request, eat, and then enjoy his first ever helping of pumpkin pie. Griffin preferred the berry pie, while Brennan just stuck to the freshly whipped cream. (heaps and heaps of it. I ate a nice big slab of apple. Color me happy with some apple crumb pie. Yum.)

I have to admit that one of our more favorite parts of hosting a major dinner like this is the promise of leftovers. A glance in my fridge confirms we may be eating turkey, potatoes and pie for a week at least. I think I may be just a little bit thankful for that as well.

Of Joy

"Mommy, I love you." Brennan said to me as we drove home from school.

"I love you too B. You bring me joy." I said back to him.

"Momma, what is joy?" Brennan asked.

I thought for a minute. Finally I said, "Joy is lots and lots of love bubbling in my heart."

I saw Brennan smile in the rear view mirror. He nodded and said, "You are my joy too."

Shaking the Cream

I was a classroom volunteer for Aidan's class on Monday. My job was to assist the kiddies with the creation of their Thanksgiving Day feast. The teacher divided up the class by gender. I was assigned the boy table, with the assistance of a volunteer dad.

Our first assignment was to make butter. The teacher gave the girls an electric beater and told them to take turns beating cream until it became butter. She then gave our table a plastic shaker filled with cream and told the boys to take turns shaking it until it became butter. It was a contest to see which group finished first.

This teacher knows her boys. Truly. She has three of her own. I watched, giggling, as my table of ten boys guffawed, burped and went crazy shaking the hell out of that plastic shaker. It was pure mayhem. They were loud, enthusiastic and almost insane as they tried to one up the person next to them with their shaking antics.

After a few minutes, I looked up laughing and noticed the girl table. The girls were lined up, in a single formation, patiently waiting their turn for a chance to hold on to the electric beater. There was no yelling or posturing. A few quietly sang songs or giggled behind hands as they waited. The comparison between the two tables was incredible.

I caught the eye of one of the other mothers, grinned and said to her with a shrug, "I guess this is why I have three boys."

She laughed, shook her head at the chaos in front of me and replied, "I guess this is why I have three girls."

Three is Enough

"Did you know my friend Grace in my class has a new baby?" Aidan asked me over lunch today at Wegmans.

"I heard. A little boy, right?" I responded.

"Yep. And now her mommy has seven kids! SEVEN!" Aidan said with disbelief.

"Wow. Do you think we should have seven kids in our family?" I asked, half joking.

Aidan gives me a serious smile and says, "Mom, I think we have our hands full of enough work as it is."

Yes, three definitely is enough for our family.

Conversations in a Marriage

It was naptime. The house was blissfully quiet. Brennan and Griffin were asleep and Aidan was snuggled under a blanket with me. He watched Scooby Doo while I read a book.

Chris walked into the room and asked what I was doing.

"I'm reading this book. It's so unbelievably good. The writing, the story, the characters - it is just well done. And it's so beautifully written. So well written that it makes me ache. I wish I could write like this author. I love this book. And I just picked it on a whim when the kids and I were at the library the other day. I love it! Really love it. I feel like it is an unexpected gift that I got to open. I can't wait to finish it, but yet, I don't really want it to end. I am simply in love with it."

Chris looks at me in silence and nods. Then he says, "I just ate a whole bag of beef jerky. It was good. I loved it."

Men.

On Birthdays

Tonight at dinner, Brennan announced to all of us, "I am turning five on my birthday!"

Aidan shook his head and responded, "No. You're turning four."

Brennan scowled back at him and said, "I don't want to turn four. I am turning five. That's what I've decided. Five!" He pointed his fork at the air for emphasis.

"Brennan, four is great. Why wouldn't you want to be four?" I asked.

"Yes, B. You don't want to rush through four. " Chris added.

"No, you don't," Aidan said, shaking his head slowly "Before you know it Brenn, you're going to be in first grade. And first grade is hard. All the math! And the reading. Stay four while you can." Aidan let out a huge sigh, leaned back in his chair and pronounced, "Let me tell you. Four is easy. It's six that's hard."

My Boy

Aidan had his sixth year well check up today. (Yes, I know. He turned six approximately two or so months ago, but I tend to procrastinate these things, okay?)

It was the first doctor's visit that was directed completely at him. The nurses spoke to him, not me. The doctor asked him all the questions she used to ask me. It was like this new, completely self composed little person had sprung up next to me and replaced my little boy.

Aidan answered each question with ease. He politely asked for a gown instead of opting to hang in his undies as he did in years past. He was honest and thoughtful as he spoke to the doctor.

I was so proud. So incredibly, unbelievably proud. And of course, I had to blink back tears because honestly, I felt like my heart was going to burst with my love for this little boy.

I have moments with my children where I see flashes of the men they will become. This afternoon, I saw it in Aidan. I love the person he is, and is growing up to be, but it still broke my heart a little.

P.S. He is so tall! He ranks in the 95% for height, 90% for weight. The doctor told us he is about the size of a 7 1/2 year old. (He takes after his father or his uncles. Definitely not me and my astounding 5 feet 4 1/2 inches.)

Planes, Trains and Cleavage

Saturday was a whirlwind.

Brennan and I started the day at a special planes and trains seminar for the preschool set put on by the Whoville Rec Department. (The Whoville Rec Department is amazing. They offer programs from the normal learn to swim and sports to tea with Miss Spider or playtime with Max and Ruby. I adore the Whoville Rec Department. LOVE them.)

It was nice to have some one on one time with the B. I think he enjoyed it too, right up until they had us make our own paper airplanes and I was a complete failure. I apologized to Brennan for my pathetic attempts at paper airplane making and told him sadly, that Daddy was the true paper airplane engineer in our family.

Brennan shook his head sadly and said in his loud preschooler voice, "Mom, I wish you had stayed home with Aidan and Griffin and Daddy came with me to make paper airplanes."

I got many a sympathetic gaze from all the other moms being loved up by their preschoolers with their fantastic displays of airplane craftsmanship.

Brennan perked up when we fit in a stop at Target. He was a happy camper riding in the basin of the cart, drinking an icee and munching on popcorn. Life doesn't get much better than that, right?

After Target, I had to drop B off at home to run to a hair cut appointment. He was not thrilled and assured me he could come with me and sit quietly while I was cut and colored. All the cuteness in the world wouldn't get me to fall for that promise.

Later that same evening, Chris and I gussied ourselves up into cocktail attire to attend Aidan's school's Gala. I opted to go with a dress I already owned, discounting how much of my cleavage would be on display at the CATHOLIC school fundraiser. Not sure it was the right choice, but it became easier to swallow after a couple glasses of wine.






(Yes, I took pictures like we were going to prom. But, seriously, how often do Chris and I get dolled up to look like actual grown ups? Yeah, not often. What's worse? The kiddies were all munching pizza with Grandma Jo Jo when we took the pic and they wanted to be in it. I wouldn't let them and their pizza sauce mouths anywhere near us. Bad mom. BAD mom!)

Our Sunday was much more relaxed. After a morning of tennis, we spent the day in pajamas, dancing and making cookies. It was a perfect lazy day at home, with plenty of quality time to love up the kids and watch the snowflakes roll in. Aidan informed me that his favorite time of the day was us cuddling on the couch, listening to music under blankets. I think it was one of the highlights of mine as well.