Everywhere... love and memories

This morning, as I was running errands, I heard the song Everywhere by Michelle Branch. When the song was released in July 2001, I liked it. I even bought the CD (back before the days of downloading-I actually drove to the store and purchased it-I know, I know, the good old days!) Anyway, I enjoyed it, but it didn't change my life or sear my heart. But it has since become extremely meaningful to me.
While I was pregnant with Hart, I turned to music as a way to deal with all the emotions I was attempting to juggle. I would drive around for hours listening to music-very loud music. After Hart was born, I turned down the volume, but music was usually playing in the background of our lives. Soon after Hart died, the song, Everywhere came on. I was absolutely blown away. I got chills and was totally overcome with emotion. As I listened to the words, I felt like this song was written about Hart; it completely articulated what I could not. To this day, when I hear this song, I am blown away by how perfectly it expresses the huge emotions I feel about my amazing son!

Everywhere
Turn it inside out so I can see
The part of you that's drifting over me
And when I wake you're never there
But when I sleep you're everywhere
You're everywhere

Just tell me how I got this far
Just tell me why you're here and who you are
'Cause every time I look
You're never there
And every time I sleep
You're always there

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone

I recognize the way you make me feel
It's hard to think that
You might not be real
I sense it now, the water's getting deep
I try to wash the pain away from me
Away from me

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone

I am not alone
Whoa, oh, oh, oh

And when I touch your hand
It's then I understand
The beauty that's within
It's now that we begin
You always light my way
I hope there never comes a day
No matter where I go
I always feel you so

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I catch my breath
It's you I breathe
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone

You're in everyone I see
So tell me
Do you see me?
-Michelle Branch

As we were planning Hart's funeral, I realized that I wanted to have music playing during the receiving line after the service. I asked my dad to burn a CD with songs that were so meaningful to our family during my pregnancy and during Hart's life. Our beloved minister, Dr. Joan, arranged for the sound system and we were able to set it to replay when it reached the end of the CD.
Something happened that makes me smile every time I think about it. A little while after the music started playing, Dr. Joan came over to me and whispered, "I think there's been a mix-up. Is this the right music?" It was the right CD, but I can understand Dr. Joan's confusion. I have included the play list below, it didn't even occur to me that it might not be appropriate for church! All that mattered was that it was appropriate for our family and our celebration of an amazing life!

Accidentally in Love- Counting Crows
All For You-Sister Hazel
Angel Mine-Cowboy Junkies
Angels in Waiting-Tammy Cochran
Camera One-Josh Joplin Group
Everything Falls Apart-Dog's Eye View
Everywhere-Michelle Branch
Follow You, Follow Me-Genesis
Fool in the Rain-Led Zeppelin
Forever Young-Rod Stewart
Hanging by a Moment-Lifehouse
Hemorrhage-Fuel
I Bid You Goodnight-Aaron Neville
Tears in Heaven-Eric Clapton
Put Your Hand in the Hand-Ocean
Save Tonight-Eagle Eye Cherry
Boys of Summer-The Ataris
The Wind-Cat Stevens
What a Wonderful World-Louis Armstrong
You're Still the One-Shania Twain

Gingerbread village....Ta-da!

Our gingerbread village is complete! Well, like most things in our lives, it was complete, but the deterioration has already started! The moppets have decided that writing in powdered sugar is way more fun and less freezing than making snow angels in real snow! (It's also way messier, by the way, and the sticky residue is enough to make a person lose her mind-not to mention the fact that their graffiti is marring our pristine snow scape- but whatever!)

Anyway, here are the photos of our fabulous village! Please note that in addition to the 2 homes, there is a Target, a bakery, a train and a train station. This is my kind of village-2 families sharing 1 Target, 1 bakery and they can get out of town fast via public transport!

                                      Youngest Son's Train in front of Baby Girl's Train Station

Yippee, Moppets! Well done! Way to spread some Holiday cheer... and lots of powdered sugar!

Gingerbread fun!

Today, we began working on our gingerbread village. I know, that sounds fabulously elaborate, but in reality, it is the result of the desire to avoid teamwork. In an effort to make it through winter break with all the moppets in one piece, I opted for individual gingerbread creations, rather than endure the tension that comes from "working together" on one project.

When we moved to Virginia, we started making gingerbread houses. Like most things in our lives, it happened not by design, but by happenstance. We moved at the beginning of December and as I was making the rounds to the elementary school winter celebrations, Middle Son's teacher said to us, "I bet it's really hard to decide who does what on your family's gingerbread house, huh?" So, I mumbled, "Yes, we try to take turns." And I hurried everyone out the classroom door before my children could say, "what gingerbread house, Mom?"  Mentally, I noted, "In Virginia, everyone makes gingerbread houses." So...when in Rome, er eh, Virginia. Baby girl was 6 weeks old, and I knew no one, so I was staying close to home and had few diversions! "Make Gingerbread Structures" was added to the Holiday To Do list.

The creations are looking fabulous! Lots of creativity-and interesting insight to what each of the moppets feels is an important component of a village. I can't wait to see the finished products! In the meantime, I was on Pinterest today, looking for inspiration (I mean losing 7 hours of my day) when I saw something so funny and true that I had to laugh at myself-out loud, for a long time.

In my mind's eye, our gingerbread creations will look like this:

                                                                     

                                              Or even this!

                              

http://www.marthastewart.com/285839/your-best-gingerbread-houses/@center/307034/christmas-workshop#/280745

But in reality-they will probably look more like this:

http://www.delish.com/food/recalls-reviews/gingerbread-house-disasters

But I will still think they are FABULOUS! Ahhh, the beauty of love goggles!

Missing Hart

Today is the day. The day I dread each year. I wake up and feel heavy, gray, melancholy. It's not like some days, when you wake-up feeling fine and enjoy a few blissful, unaware moments before sadness washes over you. Today, there is no space between waking and feeling. I am sad today, I miss my baby. I just do. The things that make me grateful, and joyful when I think about Hart every other day of the year, just make me sad today.

Seven years ago today, my heart was shattered. I cannot even begin to describe the pain. Honestly, I was totally caught off-guard by the depth of the agony. I was prepared for Hart to die. I was prepared to be sad. We knew that he was going to live an abbreviated life. I had done everything that everyone (from experts to well-meaning "folks") told me to do in order to prepare for his death. Steadfast husband and I made a deal that we would live each day of his life without regret. We didn't want to have "should haves" or "would haves" cloud Hart's memory or create needless guilt. We tried to eliminate everything that makes death so, well- devastating. I was convinced that if the only thing I had to mourn was the days I would not have with my son, I could deal with it. I thought if my grief was pure sadness, not mired with regret and anger, that I would have an easier time losing Hart. But, there is no such thing. Losing your child is just ... indescribable.

There are two important things I learned when Hart died. First, there is no way to make the loss of a loved one easier-grief is all consuming-and for the person experiencing it, it's the worst grief there is. You cannot know the grief you do not feel, there really is no, "it could be worse" (despite the myriad of platitudes you hear)-when it comes to grieving, because it is the worst. You don't stop in the middle of your anguish and think, what a relief, I am only experiencing 82% grief-phew!

I also learned that it's easier to be angry than sad. When you are sad, you feel like the victim, as though you have no control over your own emotion. You cannot "work it out" or "set it aside" or "agree to disagree". You are in a vortex of darkness, at its mercy, waiting for it to tire of you and thrust you back into the light. When you are angry, you feel some power over your situation-a sense of control. You can work it out, resolve the situation, or take action. When Hart died, I longed for a reason to be angry, a cause to embrace, a wrong to make right. But there wasn't anything to fight against, I was just sad and had to find the momentum to make it through the day.

People told me, to just keep moving forward, continue putting one foot in front of the other, it will get better. And it is true, it does get "better", but there were so many days that I felt like I was on a treadmill, and no matter how hard I tried, I would be at the same spot at the end of the day that I was at the beginning. And to be honest, often, that felt like an enormous accomplishment.

Since that day, seven years ago, when my heart shattered, it has mended-or at least come back together. But it's not like in a cartoon, it hasn't been suddenly rejuvenated and made whole again-throbbing with renewal. It feels more like it has been scotch-taped together. The parts war-torn and scarred, drifted back together over time. Most of it is held together like taped Saran wrap-it may not look good, but it is strong, secure, and protects-but there are parts that are like sandcastles-they look lovely, but are easily knocked down and the tape just doesn't stick very well.

So, on December 8 each year, I honor my sadness. I wallow in my grief. I miss my son and for one day each year, I allow myself to let the sadness of my loss outweigh everything else.


The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. ~John Vance Cheney

Disappointment

There are moments in the life of a parent, when everything is just smoothly swimming along. There is no drama, no heartache, no injury or illness. No highs or lows- everything is just fine. These moments are few and far between for our crew, and for the most part, totally under appreciated. That pesky need we have to interact with others stifles our ability to live in a happy bubble of kindness and perpetual affirmation. 

The thing is, for my moppets, over-reacting is just Tuesday night at The Cottage (evidently, being blessed with a flare for the dramatic is a dominate trait!)  But there are times when my children suffer from true disappointment, sadness, fear or despair. These moments, that penetrate their surface emotions and burrow into their souls, make my heart feel like it is in a vice. My ability to function is impaired. I am no longer rational, and cannot separate myself from the emotion in order to cull the facts. I am consumed by a need to fix it. Right the wrong. Explain how something was misconstrued, misunderstood, or just missed. I want to point out all the fabulous things about my child that somehow weren't recognize or appreciated. I am consumed by the need to explain the good intent that was behind the action that turned out badly. And sometimes, I am just overwhelmed by the desire to punch someone right in the face. (I know that's not nice, but I can't help it-don't make my babies sad!)

It is our job to protect our children, and when they get hurt, in any way, it feels as though we haven't fulfilled our obligation adequately. Their pain causes us anguish, not only because they are hurting, but because we didn't prevent the injury!

I know, disappointment is part of life, it's a learning experience-I get it! But knowing that, doesn't make it easier to take. It doesn't take the sting out. It doesn't make things just or right. And honestly, I have found that the more disappointments you face, does not, in any way, make it easier to deal with the next one. You can't develop a resistance to sadness. There's no way to build-up a tolerance to hurt. Having to deal with great sadness (the loss of a loved one, for example) most certainly puts things in perspective, but it doesn't make you immune from all the rest of life's set-backs.

During this time of year, when we honor the memory of baby Hart, experiencing "everyday" disappointments also puts a perspective on things. Even after unimaginable loss, we can still be hurt by "small" slights. It is extremely comforting to know that we are capable of feeling so blue over things that are completely trivial in comparison. I still cannot protect my children's hearts from being broken or bruised. There was a time when fretting over such things wasn't even a possibility. But now, it really stinks! Isn't that great!?!

Happy Birthday Hart!

Today, Hart would have turned 7 years old. That is so hard to fathom. I can't really picture what our family snapshot would look like if he had lived. I cannot imagine the dynamics, the relationships, the dirt. But, I also cannot envision our lives had he not been born. He is a part of our daily lives, as a baby, an angel, a hero and completely dirt-free! We each have a relationship with him, he adds to the interactions of our family, but these are different than if he had survived.

Today isn't a sad day for us, but a day of celebration. We didn't think we would get a chance to celebrate Hart's life. We honestly thought his birthday and death day would be the same; that we would have one date to "contend" with. But what a blessing to be able to celebrate his life! That being said, I've already cried 3 times today (and it's only 7:30 am). But these are not tears of sadness, they are tears of gratitude, tears of happy memories, tears of remembering the kindness of others, tears of feeling love.

I had been warned by countless well-meaning folks, (folks are those people who open their mouths without turning their filters on first!) that Hart's first birthday would be unbearable. That the numbness that enveloped me from the moment of his death would begin to wain, and I would finally feel the true weight of my grief. Really, the truly unbearable part, was everyone telling me that. For weeks, I braced myself, waiting for the breaking point; waiting for the drop of water that would cause the flood walls to break. It never happened. (In the back of my mind, I wondered if I somehow had too much anesthetic and that my numbness wasn't wearing off on time-what on earth was wrong with me? I wasn't losing my mind like I was supposed to!)

Of course there were tears and moments of sadness on his first birthday, but mostly we rejoiced in knowing Hart. It was against all odds that we even got the chance to meet him, let alone create memories. A miracle that my children got to hold and touch and love him! Change his diapers, feed him! It was amazing, and we felt an indescribable joy in that! I finally understand what Alfred Lord Tennyson meant-

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

This poem has nothing to do with the teenage angst I always associated it with!
Each year for Hart's birthday, we buy a children's book published in the current year. The thought is one day, our children will move out, take their books with them and we will still possess a lovely collection of children's books. 

This year we chose these two fabulous books!

 













Happy, happy birthday to my beautiful baby boy!

The Significance of Butterflies

Last night, steadfast husband and I went to a charity event, during which I became the proud new owner of a gorgeous butterfly necklace. Because I am celebrating Hart's memory this week, the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

We belonged to the most fabulous church when we lived in Indiana. We loved our church. A lot. The people in it, the programs they offered, the ministers, everything. Our favorite minister, Dr. Joan, was the most amazing woman. While I'm sure having a favorite minister isn't uncommon, it is probably totally Christian-ly incorrect for me to flagrantly admit it-please forgive me...but she was our favorite! Dr. Joan exuded peace, intelligence, love and all good things. She baptized most of our children (including Hart). We started meeting with her while I was pregnant with Hart in order to help us emotionally and spiritually prepare for the loss of our son. We also started planning his funeral.
Dr. Joan asked for our input and we added songs and bible verses that were important to us. We told her who would speak during the service and our overall vision for the service. (Okay, I can’t believe that we had an "overall vision" for the funeral, and even worse that I uttered the words “overall vision” out loud, but-my journal tells me it is so.) She said she had a special idea for our children and, if it was okay with us, she would work on that. We talked to Dr. Joan often during my pregnancy, when Hart was born, and during his life. When the time came for his funeral, it was a relief having had the chance to make the preparations in advance.
The funeral was absolutely beautiful. Several days after his funeral, I received a letter from the mother of my childhood best friend telling me that his service was the most beautiful, moving church service, of any kind, that she had ever been to. It made me smile.
A funeral for a baby is so sad, but it is also so beautiful and pure. It is love and light and brightness (and incredibly difficult to describe). One of the most amazing things about Hart's funeral was the butterflies. During the service, Dr. Joan called my children up to the front of the church to sit beside her on the steps. She had a closed box on her lap. She told them it was filled with Monarch Butterflies. She spoke about the brief, but beautiful life of the butterflies and compared their lives to Hart’s. She asked my children if they wanted to keep them in the box or if they wanted her to open the lid to let them fly. They said to open the lid (thank you, God) and when she did, butterflies flew throughout the sanctuary.
It was such an incredible moment. Dr. Joan had another box of butterflies and asked if we would like to take them home with us. We let the butterflies fly around our house. Having butterflies fly around the house brought moments of joy to our family during very grim days. Since his funeral, whenever we see Monarch butterflies we think of Hart. They have come to represent such a special, beautiful memory.

I couldn’t talk about Hart’s funeral without adding the beautiful words my sister spoke that day! She wrote the following on her flight from Beijing to Indianapolis following Hart’s death.

           I am finally alone, I have a sixteen hour trip ahead of me. Lord, I really need this time... solitude to think, time to talk with You.
       You know how hard it's been for me to be away from Erin and her family, halfway around the world. I can't get there fast enough...but I am also staring my complete inability to make it better right in the face.
      I want to fix it. I want to bring Your peace and comfort to them. Sometimes the pain seems more than we can bear. I thank you, Lord for those moments of joy, in spite of our broken hearts.
     The psalmist writes "I cried out-I'm slipping, and your unfailing love, o Lord, supported me. When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope."
    So we come to you, Lord, as Paul writes in Hebrews: "let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God, there we will receive his mercy and we find grace to help us when we need it."
    We thank you that we can come to you, Lord, unafraid, raw honest....and lay it all down before you. Thank you that we can say: this hurts, we don't understand, this stinks! We can scream, cry out and this doesn't change how much you love us. Nothing can ever separate us from your love. You will never leave us, You will never forsake us.
     Thank you, Father., for the miracle of Hart. Thank you for choosing Erin and John to be his parents and his brothers and sisters to be his siblings. You knew from the beginning that they would love him unconditionally and not hold anything back, even though they knew his time here would be short and how hard it would be to say good-bye.
     Against all odds, he survived the pregnancy, he made it through labor and delivery, and lived with his family for 24 days. We thank you for his 24 strong, healthy and joyous days.
     I love Psalm 139 where David says, "You saw me before I was born, every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed."
     So many of the truths we know, Lord. But sometimes we need to convince our broken hearts to embrace them. Our hands ache to hold, our arms feel empty.
     Give us your grace in full measure. Let us feel Your hand on the small of our backs and help us console each other. Take us through this as only You can, to embrace our pain and Hart's death and still embrace life, to go on trusting and loving, knowing that You are faithfully meeting our every need.                               Amen

Beautiful!

Remembering Hart

Each year, as the anniversary of our beloved baby, Hart's birthday approaches, awareness of my emotions and those of my family, becomes heightened. A type of fear hovers over my existence as I wonder how we will manage this year. But for the 6 years we have celebrated his birthday and his brief life, it has never been bad. Don't get me wrong, it has been incredibly sad, we miss Hart terribly, but it has also been filled with celebration, reflection, memories and love. As Dolly Parton said in the movie Steel Magnolias, "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion"-we have a lot of that! I just feel that it is my duty to be on the look-out for the day that we can no longer pull the joy from the tragedy; the day we give in and wallow in our heartache.

Hart would have been 7 years old on November 15. I can't believe it has been 7 years since I gave birth to this amazing little boy. It truly seems like a lifetime ago, I don't even remember the person I was before I knew Hart. I hope that there is some core part of me that remains, but when your life changes in such a profound way, you change along with it. There are times when I feel heavier than I'd like, that my grief weighs down my spirit, that my laughter has to work harder to take flight, that my joy has to shake off a layer of sludge before it surfaces, that my insouciant essence is like a balloon, low on helium, floating just above the carpet.

There are times when the burden of these ever-present feelings gets in my way, drains me, annoys me, makes me long for a time when I was weightless. But fortunately those times are rare. Would I trade knowing and losing Hart in order to purge the grief on my heart? Not for a second. The love that grew in this darkness knows no bounds-I have gained so much more than I could ever lose.

7 years ago, I was a small part of something that was so much greater than the sum of its parts. Our little boy, who wasn't supposed to live outside the womb, lived for almost a month. In that month's time (and beyond) we were enveloped in prayers from across the world, were eye-witnesses to unexpected grace, were recipients to anonymous acts of kindness, we experienced unimaginable amounts of love and support from our friends and family. Strangers reached out to us and became our friends. We felt peace-not an easy thing to feel when you are anticipating the loss of your child, but that is what we prayed for, and that is what God gave us. I have never seen anything like it, let alone lived it.

When I was pregnant, we were told Hart wouldn't survive the pregnancy-he did. When I was in labor-we were told he wouldn't survive labor-he did. When I delivered him, we were told he wouldn't survive delivery-he did. On and on it went-an hour, a day, a week. Hart lived for almost a month. Although he was terminally ill, he was able to live with our family, in our home as any other newborn would. It was such an unexpected blessing, an amazing gift. One that I must admit, I was a bit reluctant to accept. We had completely prepared for an alternate ending! I didn't feel equipped to take a baby home, a baby who I knew was going to die. I felt like I needed some books, courses, a support staff, even some well placed stickers with helpful tips-anything! But thanks to the wise words of a friend of mine, (who also happens to be a fabulous neonatologist), who incredulously said "What do you mean you've never done this before? You've done it 5 times! You guys are going home!" I was able to switch gears psychologically, letting go of the idea that "I have never done this before" and starting to celebrate and rejoice in our baby!

In celebration of Hart's 7th birthday, I will be honoring his memory by sharing stories from his amazing life. Over the next week, I will share several special stories that illustrate the impact his short life had on so many people.

Thank you for sharing this special time.

Baby Girl Turns 5

Today, my youngest moppet turns 5 years-old! I really can't believe it! It seems like only yesterday that she was born-yet, at the same time, that she has been in our family always! (Isn't it funny how that works?)

Five seems so much older than four, and I am really having a hard time accepting it! Not only for Baby Girl, but for our entire family. As much as I have resisted it, our family has turned a page. I feel a little like Grover in "The Monster at the End of This Book."  I, too, have tried rope, nails, and bricklaying as means of preventing the pages from being turned!  

By virtue of being the youngest of a large family, Baby Girl has been a "baby" for longer than any of her siblings. When First Born was 5, he was practically driving the car and doing our taxes, Oldest Daughter was putting laundry away when she was 4 and Middle Daughter was making pancakes at age 3. The next two changed their own diapers, mixed their own formula and read themselves bedtime stories. But not Baby Girl. I have learned that children don't go to college with diapers and pacifiers (well, usually) and that there is no need to rush things-it goes too fast as it is! I have also confirmed a long held belief that being the youngest rules!

Lately, when I look at the landscape of our family, I hardly recognize it! I grudgingly acknowledge that we are no longer a family with children that are "free with the price of admission". As we celebrate Baby Girl's 5th birthday, (and she no longer lets me buckle her in to the infant seat on the top of the carts at Target) I am starting to accept, even look forward to, the next page in our book!

                                     

The Secret of the Universe or How I Accidentally Made the Most Amazing Chocolate Chip Cookies!

Many of the fabulous things in my life happen by complete accident. I will paint a wall and when I realize it's a bad color, I'll paint over it and paint over it again until it turns out that the layers of colors have created an accidentally beautiful effect! Hurray, happy happenstance! I'd say my gift is knowing what doesn't work, and in undoing, or covering my mistakes, something fabulous sometimes occurs. So I can't really take credit for these things (although I often do).

This is exactly what happened the other evening when we decided to make chocolate chip cookies at 8:30. Steadfast Husband was out of town, and we were all in our pajamas, preparing to bid our day adieu. That's when it hit. I was totally jonesing for a sweet treat. I could hear the siren call of the recently purchased 5 pound (thank you, Costco) bag of chocolate chips in the pantry. I summoned my sweet 14-year-old (the chef/baker of the bunch) and oh, so sweetly asked if she thought chocolate chip cookies sounded good. She wholeheartedly assented, and generously offered to make them! Okay, I may be a little foggy on this point. It is very possible that I suggested that she make them, (please, because she is the best baker in the whole wide world) as I pulled mixing bowls, measuring cups, and the mixer out onto the counter. Either way, she started pouring, cracking, mixing, and sampling. The recipe doesn't even mention eggs until near the end, and with the impromptu nature of our cookie making, we didn't set the ingredients before we started. Oops! We were out of eggs-and frankly, no amount of cookie desire was getting me out of my pajamas and into the grocery store!

We were too far in to abort operation sweet treat, so for the 42nd time this week, I said thank you to Al Gore (he invented the Internet, right?!) and hopped online to search "egg substitute baking". Actually, I initially googled "egg substitute", but quickly saw the need to narrow the search parameters. We were out of applesauce, the most commonly suggested substitute. Then, I stumbled onto the suggestion of a mixture of baking powder, oil and water. I must admit, I doubted that the cookies would taste the same and I was right! They tasted even better! They were the best chocolate chip cookies we have ever had. They were a little crispy on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside. Scrumptious!!!!

I baked another batch when Steadfast Husband returned from his trip. He couldn't believe how delicious they were either! Really! So here is the recipe for these amazing treats! Enjoy!

Chocolate Chip Cookies without eggs

2 1/4 Cups flour
      1 teaspoon baking soda
      1 teaspoon salt
      1 Cup (2 sticks) butter
  3/4  Cup sugar
  3/4  Cup brown sugar (packed)
     1 teaspoon vanilla extract
eggs substitution-mix together 4 Tablespoons water, 2 Tablespoons vegetable oil, 4 teaspoons baking   
                          powder-mix well. This is amount is the equivalent of 2 eggs.
     2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
Mix flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside
Beat butter, sugars, and vanilla extract. Slowing add egg substitute mixture. Beat well.
Add flour mixture. Mix well.
Stir in chocolate chips.
drop tablespoon-size dollops onto baking sheet

Bake at 375 degrees for 9-11 minutes (until golden)
Enjoy!

The yummiest french onion soup!

Every once in a while, we have a something yummy for dinner that the majority of the family likes, even rarer is when we have something most everyone LOVES! My homemade french onion soup is one such dish! Not long ago, we were at a fabulous restaurant for dinner and I noticed French Onion soup on the menu. I suggested to my first born that he order a bowl. He said, "I don't want it, it won't be as good as yours!" He is absolutely horrible at sucking up, so I know he meant it. It is a chilly, rainy, fall day, so I decided to make it today and share my recipe. I hope you enjoy it too!

Ingredients
4-5 large sweet onions
4 T butter
2 T flour
1 cup white wine-not sweet (can use red in a pinch)
8 cups beef broth
1t salt
1t pepper
french baguette (sliced)
grated Parmesan cheese
sliced Swiss cheese

slice onions, cook in butter until soft, slightly brown (about 35-40 minutes) stir occasionally
add flour, cook 3-4 minutes, stir often
add wine. cook until most liquid is gone (about 8 minutes) stir often
add broth, salt and pepper, simmer for at least 30 minutes

lightly toast baguette (in toaster)
ladle soup into oven-safe bowls (individual servings)
place toast on top of soup
put 1 T Parmesan cheese over bread
place a slice (or 2) of Swiss cheese on top of bread

set bowls on cookie sheet,  place in oven, bake at 450 degrees until cheese is melted and golden about 8 minutes.
Bowls will be very hot, so please be careful!!!!
Enjoy!

smart aleck comment or true wisdom?

Last night at dinner everyone was talking at once (typical) and I was trying to get everyone's attention. Baby girl said "Shush guys, only mama can be talking right now." (Love her!) Of course, everyone continued chattering away, (baby girl doesn't hold a lot of clout when it comes to bossing the group). I exclaimed, "Ugh, why is no one listening to me?!" Without missing a beat, firstborn piped up, "That's what parenting is, talking when no one is listening!" I honestly about wet my pants! It's funny because it's true! I'm thinking about having t-shirts made!

Tales of a Fourth Grade Everything

There are times in my (motherhood) life, that things just, well, are. I don't mean "it is what it is" are, I mean the state of being that exists when there are no extreme highs, no devastating lows. With six children, a myriad of pets, and a steadfast husband (that, let's be honest, is only steadfast most of the time) that doesn't occur very often. But at this moment, this very second in time, I am experiencing that phenomenon! It is really a cause for celebration. It is also Sunday night and most of the moppets are working their way to sleepy town! (Thank you, school night). But I'll take it when I can get it!

In the absence of extinguishing fires, comforting sad hearts, shoring-up fragile constitutions, I have the opportunity to do a bit of homework that was assigned to me by my son's fourth grade teacher. I am supposed to write him a letter that will be read in front of the class. The letter is supposed to tell him how I feel about him and include funny stories about his childhood (so far). I would guess telling about him wearing his sisters "twirly dress" until he was three is not a story he would want me to share. Fourth graders can be so judgemental! So I decided the teacher's idea of funny stories and my idea of funny stories are probably quite different and in an effort to not embarrass my son, I have chosen to go with endearing as a theme for his letter. I must make it clear, I completely believe in embarrassing my children, but only when the time is right, and when I can be there to enjoy it. He is still a little young for the full force of intentional parental embarrassment, and hasn't behaved in a way that warrants it yet!

So here is my letter to my sweet little boy.

Dear sweet fourth grader,
       You are an amazing person. You are sunshine and joy and you spread your light wherever you go. You embrace your life so completely. It is awesome to watch the exuberance you have for everything you do. You grab the opportunities life presents you! I still laugh when I think about you getting to sit up front at your very first Broadway show when we were in New York last spring. When the gentleman ask  if any of us wanted to use his extra ticket for a seat closer to the stage, you didn't hesitate to accept his kind offer. In my recollection, you said "I do," vaulted over the seats in front of us and were half-way down the aisle before I even registered what the man had said!  Opportunity knocks, and you swing the door wide open and say "what have you got for me today?" I love that about you!
      The first time you got on a two wheel bike, you just took off. No training wheels, no crashes, not even a wobble. Your dad was so tickled by this feat, that the next morning, he began his business meeting by telling everyone about your super bike riding skills!
      It is a joy to watch you perform on stage. It is clearly a place you feel comfortable and confident. You have such an amazing natural talent for theatre.
      You are a thoughtful brother to your siblings and make everything we do as a family much more fun. You are hysterically funny, and make us laugh a lot!
       You have creative ideas and creative solutions to problems. It is through your eyes that I see things for the first time again. What a gift that is to me! You are very smart and  have a wonderful stick-to-it-iveness, you work at something until you get it right. That is an example to all of us. You find joy and follow your passions. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have you for my son! We are blessed to have you as a part of our family!

We love you like crazy,
your adoring family

Baby girl's first day of school!

Baby girl started school this week. We thought school started Tuesday (I swear they said "see you Tuesday" as we left "meet the teacher" day), but it turns out, it started Monday. We were still sitting on the sofa in our pajamas, watching the Today Show, recovering from the exhaustion of getting the rest of the moppets out the door, when the phone rang. It was the preschool director wondering if baby girl was sick! Oops! Grabbing clothes from the floor that "smelled clean" and promising she could wear her first day of school outfit on her first full day of school, I rushed her over to her school. We were only an hour and 20 minutes late! Missing almost half of the school day didn't seem to take away from the fabulous-ness of her day. When she got home, she said that it was her "BEST FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL EVER!" (She actually screamed, "BESTFIRSTDAYOFSCHOOL, EVER"  three times before I finally was able to discern what came before the "ever".)

Yikes, we almost missed the first day of school!

I must explain the reason I was searching for clothes that smelled clean. Baby girl changes her clothes about 14 times a day. She has it in her mind that every "event" calls for a different outfit, and when you're four, almost everything you do is an "event"! She works hard to find the perfect ensemble for each occurrence (meaning, lots of the rejected items get dropped on the floor along-side the previously worn outfits). As she has not yet perfected folding and cannot reach the rod to hang her clothes back in the closet (although pulling the sleeve of a shirt until the hanger breaks or otherwise releases its grasp, doesn't seem to be a problem for her), most days end with a pile of clothes on her floor.

I am completely thrilled that she loves school. She has a blast, plus it's some much needed time away from mama! My darling husband calls baby girl my "mini me". As endearing as it sounds, in real life it means that she is attached to my side. All. The. Time. If I sit down, she races for my lap. When I make my lunch, she abandons hers and decides "we can share" mine. If I dare to go to the bathroom, she follows me, "so you won't have to be alone, Mama." We often share an afternoon coffee (my other children had tea parties-baby girl has Starbucks parties). More nights than not, she wanders in to our bed (where she promptly falls asleep with one leg draped over my middle-just in case I get the notion to get out of bed without her). She also tells me "Mama, I love you so much," about a hundred times a day and reaches to hold my hand "just because" almost as often. I absolutely adore her! She is my last baby, and I know that her desire to spend every moment of the day and night with me is fleeting (at least I hope it is-I don't want to think of her 16-year-old self climbing into my bed every night). But honestly, I truly don't need visitors in the bathroom (formerly known as alone time).

This was the first full day of school! Don't you love the gloves? She refused to take them off for the pictures (I guess she thought it was formal) then immediately doffed them in the car on the way to school-where I'm sure they still are!

So, thank you, sweet little preschool! Thank you for a safe, joyful, enriching environment, thank you for a happy baby girl and most of all, thank you for making it possible for me to go to the bathroom all by myself!

The End of Summer Vacation!

Congratulations team Vinyl! Their team pulled off a victory in the upcycling challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted, and to everyone who checked out the fabulousness, but didn't vote! Sorry team 5finger, your monkey was darling! (You may want to check on him though, I think I saw a stuffed teardrop on his cheek! Stuffed monkeys are quite sensitive!)

The moppets went back to school this week. I have such mixed emotions about their return to school, or rather their mass exodus from the cottage. There is so much excitement attached to the new school year, new clothes, new supplies, new teachers, new friends, and (for two of my children) new schools. My own internal calendar is synced with the school calendar. None of that New Year's resolution business for me, my yearly fresh start is triggered by the diesel fumes of the old yellow school bus!

With their return to school, comes the thrill of almost having my house to myself (my loving husband is working from home right now and my darling youngest child doesn't start preschool until next week!), but my appetite has certainly been whetted! Glimpses of the Today Show, almost getting to hear the snarky comments Matt Lauer makes under his breath, sitting down-it doesn't get much better than that!

On the other hand, I kind of miss my moppets! I know, I know, it's CRAZY! But, I truly enjoy my children (most of the time), and they make me laugh. I also haven't quite prepared myself for the onslaught of meetings, back-to-school nights, homework, bed time and schedules! And the forms! Good golly, I have writer's cramp from filling out all of the stinkin' school forms! I'm fed up with the forms!

     Dear Scrupulous School Officials,
            Whilst filling out one of the 118 school forms I've had to complete over the past four
     days, it has come to my attention that you neither realize, nor care, that all of my children have
     the same address, phone number, emergency contact information, persons authorized to pick them
     up from school, etc. I realize it boggles the mind, kind sirs and madams, but our children even have
     the same exact siblings today that I painstakingly listed on yesterday's forms (with their
     corresponding schools indicated in parentheses behind their names as requested). As you may or
     may not realize, if there was a change in siblings between yesterday and today, I would likely be
     filling out annoying hospital forms rather ridiculous, unbelievably redundant school forms.
          While I appreciate your complete lack of awareness of the aforementioned information, I would
     like you to know that I do not enjoy writing our home address three times on the same form, nor do
     I understand it. Might I suggest looking into a way to streamline the collection of this information
     and even store it for future use?
           Finally, I humbly propose a completely off-the-wall idea for your consideration. If you really
     need twenty-two copies of the same information, I've heard of a machine that makes copies of
     papers. It's hard to believe, but from what I understand, you can hardly tell the difference between
     the original page and the copies. (I know, it sounded like hocus pocus to me too, but it might be
     worth looking into.)  The only problem I can foresee is that you would have to decide on a
     standardized format for your forms rather than the twenty-two different versions you currently use.
           There, there, loving school officials, I understand, change makes us all a little nervous, but
     really, enough's enough!
       

     PS: Could you kindly return to me the 118 forms I filled out last year? I would like to recycle them.
     Thank you

I apologize for the rant, I am suffering from an acute case of form rage! I am off to find a cure-I think it is in the kitchen, and rhymes with boffee! Coffee? Toffee? Either way, I'm feeling better already!

Vote now for your favorite upcycled item!

Please forgive the tardiness of this post. It was supposed to go up on Friday, but I have been sidelined by an ugly sinus onset migraine! The blanket over my head and my hands over my ears prohibited my blogging! Now, I only have a shadow of a sinus headache, so all is good-ish! (Note to mother nature-could you just make it RAIN ALREADY?!?) So the voting for these fabulous creations has been extended until September 7. Voting is easy peasy lemon squeezey, just click the dot beside your favorite item above this post!

I was so tickled by the outcome of the moppets creative re-purposing! (And I must admit to joining in the fun-surprising huh?)

The first team-team vinyl- came up with a clutch purse and snack bowl made from old record albums!

The second team-team 5fingers- made a sock monkey out of winter gloves!

 I must admit, these are two very quick projects-we didn't have time this week for some of the more elaborate projects that they wanted to execute-but they are still quite fab (and needed limited adult supervision/intervention-yippee!)

Remember to vote for your favorite project!
I'll post the winner later in the week!

Heaven in a Bowl! Delicious Mango Sorbet

This is not a typical post for me, but I feel it is my duty to share this little piece of heaven with you! One day last week, I thought, "mango sorbet sure sounds tasty." Really, I did. And the thing about me is when I decide I have a hankering for something, there is no talking me down. My daughter had some yummy Häagen-Dazs Mango Sorbet a few days before and while I managed to resist the urge to knock her down and snatch it from her hand, it planted a seed of desire that had to be satiated.

I am trying to lose weight, so marching my potato to the store for Häagen-Dazs was out, but I decided I could make a healthier version that would satisfy both me and my thighs! Score! It turned out to be amazing and the recipe can be made sugar-free or sugar-full! My moppets kept trying to poach it from me (and really, I am just not very nice at sharing my food), so I knew it wasn't just my desperation that made me think it was tasty, those little angels of mine know the risk of taking Mama's food! And they chose to take that risk! Then my friend stopped by yesterday and I invited her to taste it-actually, I made a bowl for her, thrust it into her hand, and said "here, eat this, you will love it." And she did! So here is the recipe!

Erin's Mango Sorbet
3 1/2 C frozen mango chunks
1/3 C simple syrup (made with Splenda  and water-1 cup each-boil until Splenda is dissolved)
2 T fresh lime juice

chop frozen mango in food processor
dump mango into mixing bowl, add simple syrup and lime juice-mix well
put mixture back into food processor
puree until it looks like soft orange sherbet
store in a covered container (after you've done lots of tasting of course!) place in freezer, stir every hour (it's ready to eat after a couple of hours)
If it gets too hard in the freezer, you can put it all back in the food processor to soften.

Enjoy the deliciousness!

Sammons Family Summer Games challenge #6 announced!

The winner of the Sammons Family Summer challenge #5 "JUST DANCE" was the Boogie Nights!  They beat the Saturday Night Fevers by a score of 112 to 93! The Boogie Nights team consisted of the middle son and middle daughter-take that Marcia Brady! All the moppets noted that this was the easiest and least stressful challenge yet! Hmmm....I can't decide how to take that. It was certainly the least stressful for me because it was entirely objective, but are the other challenges stressing my children out? That hardly seems possible!

Yes, this is at FAO Schwartz, but it's the only picture I have of the winners together, dancing.

There are two more challenges to finish out the Sammons Family Summer Games. Hopefully we will get them finished before everyone starts school again (the Tuesday after Labor Day). The final challenge is another completely objective event (i.e.-stress free), but the next challenge is not! The beauty is, I am not going to be the judge of the next challenge either! (Insert maniacal laugh here!) The winning team will be determined by on-line voting, and because it will mostly be word of mouth, part of their challenge is to cull the most votes for their team!


The challenge is to make a usable item from upcycled material! The parameters are simple.
      *The materials must be items that were used previously for another purpose (books, magazines, broom handles, fence posts), they may not, for example, use the sofa to make a sofa (so put the upholstery knife down kids).
      *The end result needs to be a usable item-envelopes from book illustrations is a do, ransom note pieced together from letters cut out of magazines is a don't!

I will post the completed objects on Friday with voting instructions and the moppets will have a chance to drum up votes over the weekend! We will announce the winner after voting closes at the end of the day Monday. Recycling, art, public relations, marketing, working under stressful situations created by your Mother-what more could you ask for!?!

Earthquakes, Fires, and Hurricanes, Oh My!

Our exciting week filled with natural disasters has finally come to a close. We have experienced an earthquake, a wildfire (in the Great Dismal Swamp-isn't that the best swamp name ever?), a hurricane (Irene), and now we are on flood alert! So, the Sammons family has been shining a light on our preparedness (or lack there of) and enjoying lots of together time.

Early in the week, one thing quickly became clear; the Sammons family does not do natural disasters well. When the earthquake struck, we all emerged from our bromidic existence as though someone had stuck a garden hose in our rabbit hole. We ran around trying to figure out why the entire cottage was shaking like an unevenly weighted washing machine! As a matter of fact, S.H. (Steadfast Husband) checked the washing machine no less than 3 times. Not only was it not even turned on, but our fabulous washer is incapable of shaking our entire home including the foundation. Even Violet, (our adorable, semi-intelligent dog) was totally confused! So much for animal instinct, although I'm not sure if it was the earth shaking or the washing machine checking that really had her perplexed.

After clearing the washing machine as a suspect, and ruling out a dozen other scenarios, our 9-year-old asked, "Was it an earthquake?" To which we quickly replied, "Of course not."  In our defense, we are on the East Coast and don't know from earthquakes. Thank you CNN for up-to-the-minute breaking news-because of you, we only embarrassed ourselves amongst ourselves!

When the first aftershock occurred, S.H. ran to the washing machine, again, to see if it was off-balance, again, only to discover it still wasn't on (really!?!)! Clearly, some of us are slow learners! For the next 24 hours, the earthquake was all we talked about and fretted over. Then it was forgotten like yesterday's news (which, well, it was). Two nights after the initial earthquake, we had a strong aftershock that woke me up, but no one else even stirred. I couldn't even get anyone fired-up about it the next day. I didn't really have time to wallow in the lack of enthusiasm, on to the next act of God we marched!

The Great Dismal Swamp fire didn't directly affect us. By which I mean, we weren't ordered to evacuate, hose down our home or wear gas masks, however, the smell of burning swamp wafted over to our neck of the woods and hung in the air like cheap perfume. Walking outside, we were smacked with what smelled like a damp campfire. The smell is finally gone; I'm not sure if we're just acclimated to it or if Hurricane Irene blew the smell away.

Come on, Irene! Over the next couple of days, hurricane warnings continued to escalate.  I decided we would not be caught unprepared/unaware for another natural disaster, so I did a little research and decided in addition to water, flashlights, canned food, blankets, candles, lighters and water-filled bathtubs and buckets (to enable toilet flushing-a major priority) our hurricane preparedness needed to include fun, time-filling, activities. We gathered some board games, the Uno cards, vinyl records and brought the record player out. I also found some fun artsy activities online for which we already had supplies!

For the better part of the day, everyone did their own thing, but as Irene inched closer, and a branch hit the skylight, we decided to bring everyone downstairs and the togetherness began! We still had electricity, so we worked on melted crayon art while listening to records. What a fabulously, fun mess!

At 5:00, I decided to go ahead and cook dinner in case our electricity went out. (Before the storm, we made sure we had gas for the grill-which would have been great-if grilling during a tropical storm was in any way advisable!) As I hurried to cook dinner our 17 year-old said "Dinner at 4:15? What are we 80?!?" (Exaggeration for dramatic effect is a family trait! It really was 5:00). I patiently explained to her that we could lose electricity at any minute and raw spaghetti, no matter how much sauce you put on it, is just nasty.

She then decided to embrace the drama of worrying about the hurricane. When another large branch loudly hit our roof, she went to the sports equipment closet and retrieved a bicycle helmet that she proceeded to wear for the remainder of the evening. The bummer is, I am the only one who made fun of her! I admit to not discouraging her (okay really-I strongly encouraged her), if only because I found it hysterical and thought her siblings would join in the merriment. But...nothing. Everyone went on about their business with nary a glance at her way! Really?!? What the stink is the matter with these children? Sometimes my home training goes totally astray. What a disappointment!

The sweatshirt was added under the helmet after she decided it needed some padding! Because if a beam falls on your head, you don't want it to be uncomfortable!

As for me, I was on www.Pinterest.com until the cable went out, then I went to bed!

the castle tree house!

Our really cool castle in the sky!
This was designed and built by S.H. (steadfast husband!)

Accidental hit-chalkboard dining table!

This turned out to be a great idea, inspired by, well, I don't know what! Maybe, the fact that we are keeping an eye out for a new dining table, thus we have cut all emotional ties with the current one! Anyway, it has turned in to a smash-hit!

I painted the dining table with chalkboard paint and told the moppets to "go to town." They are having fun making "place mats", decorating for celebrations, and coloring to pass the time! Yippee-I am just having a moment of gratitude for an accidental good idea!

Happy Birthday Beautiful Girl!

14 years ago today, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She was born early (only 5 weeks?-everyone constantly, annoyingly asked in concerned disbelief), and was very sick. She was also big (in premie terms), a little over 6 pounds (again with the astonished queries, 6 pounds? That's not that small.) Yet, she was in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) for a little more than a week. (An hour in the NICU feels like a lifetime, but there are people who spend weeks and even months visiting their precious babies there. My heart aches for every minute of worry a NICU parent experiences. They are all in my prayers!) Baby girl was on a respirator and a few days into her stay had a life-threatening blood clot that, fortunately, was able to be dissolved.

Today, as on her birthday each year, I look at my beautiful, healthy daughter, and am filled with emotion. It is bittersweet, as are all my children's birthdays, a year older! and a year older. But it's more than that. I am thankful that she survived the trauma of a premature birth. I am eternally grateful to the amazing nurses and doctors who saved her life and held my hand. I am thankful that my OB told me I "felt a little faint" so she wouldn't be able go discharge me yet, allowing me to stay in the hospital near my baby girl for a few more days. I am grateful that when I did go home, I didn't lose my ever-lovin' mind. I am thankful for the policeman who did not give my husband a speeding ticket when he was rushing some freshly pumped breast milk back to the hospital so that my baby's nurse could feed her. I am thankful for the nurse who went back to the doctor 3 times to convince him to change the orders on my baby's chart so that I could try to nurse her more often than the "plan of treatment" called for. I am grateful that the doctor finally agreed that this was a good idea (allowing us to bring her home from the hospital sooner than expected)! I am especially grateful that we didn't have the time or technology (thank you 1997) to research all of the things that could go wrong for our little girl-which would have only invited more worry into our stress-filled, sleep deprived existence.

Whenever my moppets ask me what the best day of my life was, I always say that I have 8 best days. My wedding day and the day I brought each of my children home from the hospital are the best days of my life. But an extra ray of sun shines on the day I brought my little NICU graduate home!

Happy birthday beautiful girl!