Birthdays and Projectile Poop

Yes, I am down to being a single person (as in, not pregnant, still married). The cute little surfer-esque looking baby is Michael. He is healthy and perfect, but the main reason for my sabbatical from blogging is because we moved. I really have been running around like crazy trying to get everything done, and I still have not unpacked everything after over 2 weeks in this house. So now that it has been over a month without any updates, so much has happened that I'll have do quick recaps.

Friday, May 29: Threw a birthday party for Alex--something I never want to do again, but I can't leave Bekah out so I'll have to do it one more time. Thank goodness the other kids are too young to know about it.

Saturday: Started planting our garden at the new house. Went to a "End of 3rd year of medical school" bbq at a friends house.
Sunday: Went to church, came home and made Alex's birthday dinner: chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream, sausage, potatoes, and broccoli. At least the pancakes were whole wheat. Then we did presents and I made his purple-dragon-blowing-orange-fire birthday cake request.




 Can you tell what he's into? At least the cake wasn't transformers.

Monday: Labor day. Wait--no, Memorial day :) I was in labor by 6am. We went to finish the garden from 9am-12pm. Ate lunch, sat around wishing I could sleep, but I'd have been woken up every 5 min, so I didn't. Matt put on a movie (Transformers--again) to kill time while I was trying to decide if and when I needed to go to the hospital. At 4pm, I thought we should probably go, so we dumped the kids at a friend's house and went over. At 6:54pm, we got to see what the little 6 lb 2 oz guy looked like.

We told Alex a long time ago that the baby wouldn't be here until after his birthday. So he says, "So it will be my birthday and the next day the baby will come?" I said, "Well, no, not the next day, but a week or two later." I had to eat my words because he was right about it being the very next day. Hooray for him coming early and making it easier to move.


Bekah kept referring to him as "the baby boy". "Is the baby boy asleep?" "Does the baby boy have blue eyes or brown eyes?" "The baby boy is crying." I kept telling her that his name is Michael and after a week or so she would say, "Is the baby bo...............what's his name again?" I think it took a good 2 weeks for her to remember his name.



Friday, June 4: Packed up the 4 kids to take Michael to a doctor's appointment. Things were great until we got into the little room. There is an exam table and a chair available to the patient and company. So all the kids are up on the table and the car seat was on the chair. The nurse tells me to get him undressed in order to weigh him. I do that and notice that he needs his diaper changed. So as I'm wiping his tush, he lets go of what his intestines had been brewing. In an instant he took out the diaper pad, the exam table, 2 square feet of linoleum flooring, the entire length of my jeans, and my shirt. I quickly slap a diaper on him and lay him on that paper stuff while trying to elbow Keturah away from the infected area and yelling to Bekah to hold her back and telling Alex to grab me some more wipes. About 12 seconds after the incident, the nurse pokes her head in to see if we were ready. It probably looked like we had a food fight with mustard bottles in that room, but she was a quick thinker and takes Keturah and passes me a huge stack of paper towels. After the floor and table were clean and I was moving on to my clothes, the nurse set Keturah down and went to get Michael to weigh him. I hear her announce, "Uhhh, he did it again." There was a giant puddle of urine underneath him. I said, "What in the world? He had a diaper on, how did he do that?" I heard the nurse joke about him having "magic pee-pee power" and Alex erupts in laughter, which may or may not have had a tinge of jealously to it. So I grab Keturah, wipe the table, and the nurse wipes Michael and takes him to the scale. 5 lbs 13 oz. 5 minutes previous would have had him at birth weight I'm sure. So once she's done her bit, I put Michael in the car seat and go to work on my pants, only to be interrupted by the doctor a few minutes later. At least they don't keep you waiting here. By the end of the appointment Keturah was done, so I walked out with wet, yellow-stained clothing, carrying a purse, a diaper bag, and a car seat, dragging a one-year-old along on my right leg, and trying to herd the other two towards the door. From that point on, my life has been complete chaos.
The rest of the month was spent packing, moving, cleaning, and unpacking--not to mention the feeding, changing, consoling, bathing, etc. of all the kids.

 At 3 weeks, the excrement accidents have calmed down, and he's getting cuter everyday.





And that's all folks!

Overheard

Matt: "Alex, get your head away from my bum. Bekah, get your bum away from my head."

Matt :"Alex, eat over the table." 

Alex: "Okay, Eyeball Bucky."

Alex: "[sound effect] I shot you with my laser."

Matt: "I blocked it with my shield."

Alex: "I shot you with a special laser that goes through shields."

Matt: "I have another shield behind that one that you didn't know about."

Alex: "[sound effect] I melted through that one with my hot lava shield melter."

Matt: "The invisible man stepped in front of it and saved me."

Alex: "No, the invisible man died from a heart attack when he was 50."

Matt (to Alex): "You named my bum Don?"

Best one to date

Matt brought me an over-sized bowl of Lucky Charms (well, the generic kind, but just as good) on Sunday morning for mother's day. He said, "I thought about making you an omelet, but I figured it would be time wasted." Right you are, honey. I can't do that heavy breakfast stuff first thing in the morning (as good as it is--I prefer it for dinner). Besides, I have a slight addiction/obsession with cereal. What's more, I buy the healthy stuff, so this was a nice surprise.
In high school my boyfriend came by our house to surprise me. He saw me through our glass door stuffing my face with a giant bowl of cereal accompanied with a giant spoon. He just laughed and so did I. With 7 kids and all that ice cream and cereal eating, a clean, normal sized bowl and spoon were a rare find. You were probably more likely to find said spoon in the dirt in the backyard, carelessly chucked aside after being used as a shovel.
Anyway, back to present time. The other kids picked out black licorice for me--score again. Matt hates it ("the taste reminds me of an old man" was his commentary), so I've had a black licorice fast for a few years.
We had my step-mom's specialty marinated pork tenderloin with roasted asparagus, roasted red potatoes, homemade whole wheat rolls, and honey glazed carrots for dinner. Q: How do you finish off that kind of perfection? A: Chocolate Mousse.
Just when I thought things couldn't get much better, I opened a painting and narrative from Alex.

"We love you mom bekus of transformrs" That kid cracks me up. Here's what is says at the bottom (spelling corrected):  "My mommy's hair is brown like a chocolate bar with ice cream pieces. My mommy's eyes are brown like chocolate milk. The end."

Wednesday

It has already been a week since one of our funnest days in Michigan. Thanks to Mary for graduating, because on their way back from that, Grandpa Robin and Grandma Linda were able to make a stop here. After dinner we made a mad dash to Alex's kindergarten concert. He had not wanted to go until he knew G & G were going to be there watching. Good timing on their part. Also, Alex happened to have a random day
off of school and Matt happened to have a random day off from "work" so we had the whole day to frolic.

My dad took us to the movies to see How to train your Dragon while Linda played with Keturah back home. Not to be outdone by her husband, Linda took the kids swimming in their hotel pool.
Linda and I went food shopping, Matt and Dad went BBQ shopping and the combination that evening was magical. I think that is the most fun I've had in my kitchen. All the times Mary bragged about having Dad's bbq whilst I was exiled in the opposite half of the country can now be forgiven. And to top that all off--ice cream sundaes. Heaven.

Fabrication

We all love Keturah. She gets the most endearing, lovable names that we can come up with: stink bomber, pooper, chubbs, butterball, stink machine, etc.
So Alex says, "Keturah, you're a poop factory."
Matt adds, "Alex, if Keturah is a poop factory, then you are the whine factory."
Alex retorts, "And Dad, you are a toot factory."
Rebekah chimes in, "And Mom is the pregnant factory."

If there were a picture to go with this post, it would be one of me--one of those "cute, pregnant belly" pictures. Yeah, I don't do those. I look the same as I did the last 3 times at 7 months, so if you were lucky enough to see me one of those times, imagine that.

Goose Poop

In one month we went from this:

                                                                                    To this:

We went to Ann Arbor and rented a row boat for a couple of hours to enjoy the warm weather and Matt's vacation time. We had a lot of fun trying to row with a broken oar and the wind working against us. Keturah is the only one who didn't take a turn rowing, but she got splashed plenty to make up for it. And I  learned something new about geese. We came right up to a goose family that didn't want us near their egg, so they hissed at us. Didn't know they could hiss. Maybe it's a Canadian thing, eh? There were a ton of geese. I tried to find a spot on the grass to sit down and there were none to be found that were sans goose poop. 
Have you ever noticed that all the different words for poop are 4 letters? Poop, crap, terd, loaf, do-do, dump, etc. I know there is another one, too--but this post if for the kids.

Carnivore

I'm not sure what inspired all this, but my kids have had a thing with where meat comes from. They know perfectly well that it is animal muscle, so they always ask what animal it came from, what part of the victim it is, and how we came about having it on hand.
I'm cutting chicken breasts before dinner...

Bekah: What's that?
Me: Chicken.
B: But what animal did it come from?
Me: A chicken. You know, the bird. Bok, bok.
B: Is he dead?
Me. Yes. Definitely dead.
Pause.
B: Does he even know that you're cutting him?
Me: No, I don't think he cares right now. He's dead.
B: What part of his body is that?
Me: His chest.
B: And you got part of his chest at the store?
Me: Yep.

Once I caught her making sawing motions, so I inquired after the purpose. She was cutting a little army man up for his meat to feed to Megatron.
We might have a future butcher in our midst.