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.

Home

I got home last night just in time to give the two older boys kisses before bed.

(I would have been home to play, read books and enjoy lots and lots of cuddles with all three of my boys if I hadn't endured five flight delays, an airplane bathroom overflowing with sewage and stinkin up the whole cabin, and me, forgetting to write down where exactly I parked my car in long term parking. Not surprisingly, it takes quite a lot of time to find your car in the dark. Apparently, lots of people drive black Ford Explorers in Buffalo. And well, long term parking is big. Really big. Especially when you are toting luggage and wearing heels.)

I digress.

When I finally arrived home, I got inside the house, threw down my luggage and ran upstairs to greet the boys.

I went into Brennan's room, hugged him tight and smothered him with kisses. Brennan pulled away, looked at me with his big brown serious eyes and said, "I don't like you going out of town."

"Me neither B. I missed you tons." I replied as I kissed the top of his head.

"You can never go out of town again."

"Okay," I said with a slight laugh.

"Ever!" He replied sternly.

"I got it."

"NEVER. EVER." He whispered as he hugged me.

I teared up as I relayed the story to Chris when I went downstairs. He laughed and said to me, "You know you were only gone for like a day, right?"

Whatever. Regardless, I am so grateful to not be the road warrior for our family. I am a home body through and through. And that is a good thing.

Whiner, Whiner

I have to go out of town for work today. This is a role shift in our little family. Chris is our designated road warrior. He spends quite a bit of time traveling to get the job done, leaving me at home to keep the troops fed and happy, and do everything else us single working mothers do to survive.

But today it is me. I don't want it to be me. I don't like to travel for work. (I like to travel for fun, but that's neither here nor there, right?)

I have been a tiny bit of a whiner about my trip. My trip that is all of one night away from home and a mere hour long plane ride away from the kiddies. You'd think I was going to Alaska for the way I have been acting. I may have even cried just a teensy little bit last night over the thought of it.

Then we get to this morning. This morning my children were terrors. They are all coming down with colds (the cold I have endured for THREE WEEKS STRAIGHT AND I AM STILL HACKING UP A LUNG, thank you very much.) They fought. They cried. Griffin threw himself on the floor kicking and screaming in despair more times than I could count.

We weren't a pretty family this morning.

After Chris put Griffin in time out and we listened to his howls and tears, he turned to me and said, "Bet your trip is looking much better to you now, isn't it?"

Maybe there is something to this road warrior thing after all.

First Snow

I woke up this morning to the sounds of the boys and Chris yelling at the sight outside.

"Mom, did you look outside? Did you see it? Did you?" Aidan yelled.

The boys ran downstairs to plant their noses against our windows in awe. I slowly got out of bed and joined them at the windows.

It had snowed last night while we slept. We had at least two inches of snow gracing our yard. We shared exclamations and shouts of glee until Brennan turned to me, grabbed my legs to hug me and said with joy, "It's Christmas, Momma! Christmas!"

Aidan set off for school and I managed to hold off the two younger ones from outside play until the ripe ol' hour of 8:30 a.m. Then we dug for boots, gloves, snow pants and hats to race outside and roll in some fluffy white stuff.

Brennan was euphoric. He set to work, making snow angels and snow piles. He covered every inch of himself in snow. Griffin was cold. He reminded me repeatedly that he was cold. But he still managed to dig and shovel up lots of snow. His mood immediately perked up when Brennan explained that once we went inside they would get hot chocolate and marshmallows.

I finally had to force them inside when Griffin's face looked frozen. Brennan was reluctant to go in, certain that it would all melt away the moment he left. I promised we would have more than enough snow this season. Isn't that why we live in Buffalo?

Boy Play

Sometimes it's strange to be the mother of three boys. When I imagined motherhood before I had children, I always saw myself with a mix - boys and girls. I never thought I would be raising all boys. And I never imagined my day would consist of all boy play, all the time.

Today, my day started out with a lego building workshop. We spent an hour building lego battleships for an intergalactic war. From there we moved on to pretend play at Star Wars, then we battled with swords because we were being attacked by pirates. This afternoon, we played baseball. And golf. I watched as the boys played "who can fall the fastest, the hardest and the funniest. (and get the muddiest.)"

No dolls. No barbies. No sweet play. It's all boy, all day long.

I also never knew I'd enjoy it so much. I guess I really was meant to be the mother of boys. Life has a way of working out exactly as it should.

Election Day Pride

We like to start them young in our family:




(Pay no attention to the annoyingly high pitch voice in the background. I have no idea who that is. Nope.)

The teachers at Griffin's school got quite a kick over his political views and walked him from class to class today to give him time to get out the vote for Obama. Everyone loved it, except the Director of the School, who gave me a very sad smile and slightly admonished me for my brainwashing techniques. Two seconds later, she admitted she was a McCain supporter. I told her I wouldn't hold it against her. (maybe. I might. Griffin surely will.)

You Do What You Have To Do

In order to go to the bathroom this morning, I agreed with Brennan that I was, indeed, Princess Leia and I needed to be rescued from the clutches of evil Jabba (Griffin) by Luke Skywalker (Brennan.)

The whole imaginary rescue scene played out in the master bathroom while I sat on the toilet. Good times, eh?

In order to clean the showers, bathtubs and toilets later that morning, I agreed to affix Aidan's glow in the dark, neon rosary to my head as my princess crown. I was a poor Princess captured by Pirates who would be rescued by a team of commanders (Brennan in a firefighter hat and Griffin in a construction hat - both with capes and wielding plastic swords.) (Thankfully, the evil pirates still allowed me to clean during the tense stand off and rescue.)

Yeah, you do what you have to do in parenthood to get things done.

The Halloween Chronicles

We begin last weekend with our family carving celebration. We cut up some pumpkins, ate pumpkin seeds and made lots of "spooky" noises. A good time was had by all:

I made witch cupcakes for the boys to mark the celebration (how cute. So cute, right?):

On Halloween, we always host our friends and their kiddies for pizza, chaos and beer (for the adults that is.) The kids in all their costumed glory:

Snarfing down pizza before the race to the sugar high:

Then we were off to trick or treat! The kids raced from house to house, intent on filling their bags to the brim with sugary goodness. This meant that I lagged behind with Griffin -and only managed to capture him on film.

Griffin meets our neighbor's Buffalo:

In addition to trick or treating for candy, Aidan was trick or treating for cash to fund Unicef. He had a small container he held up at each house as he announced loudly, "I am also trick or treating for the poor kids!" He was insistent on filling his Unicef box with cold hard cash and accepted no excuses. When one household told Aidan, "Oh, well, I don't have any money on me, so I would have to go find my wallet." Aidan smiled sweetly and said, "That's okay. I'll wait."

At the end of the night the bags were full, and the kids were crazed with sugar. Another successful Halloween for our brood.

If only we could avoid the inevitable sugar crash, sleep deprived Halloween hangover that is today. Chris was a wise, wise man when he scheduled his all guy, all sports, all Buffalo weekend today - leaving me with three sugar addicts and counting down the minutes 'til nap. (A very wise man, indeed.) Can anyone say, "payback?" I can. And I am.