T-Ball

   Patrick Luke and Joseph took a T-ball Instruction class this summer.  Six weeks, Monday-Thursday for an hour day.  Quite a bit for little ones!  They never quite got it, as you can see from the above shot – Joe took a big chunk of the tee with him on that one!

The two teenagers running the classes (Tracy pictured above) did an okay job.  Again, Luke didn’t quite get it – notice the stance!  They decided to put Joe on first base since he was a lefty.  This gave him lots of opportunities to be a part of the action. 

The twins, well, not so much.  They spent the majority of the time, how should we say… adjusting themselves, staring up in the air, sitting in the field and goofing off in line.

One day, Patrick was particularly nutty.  He was poking and bumping into all of the little kids in line and generally not paying attention.  It was so embarrassing to sit with the other moms and dads and watch my own kid disrupting their lessons.  Finally, at the end of the class, the coaches had the kids run the bases.  Patrick starts flopping around and running to the base like he was possessed.  Perhaps the other parents thought he was handicapped.  I could just see the light bulbs going off in their heads, “Gee, I thought he was just being naughty and unruly.  But, now I see.  How sad.”  When the class mercifully ended, I asked Pat what the heck was going on out there.  “I was dance running!”  Ah, the humiliation.

They all had a game on the last day of practice.  The parents were to play with the kids, which made it really fun.  One poor kid got up to bat and when he hit it, he fielded his own ball and ran it to first to tag himself out.  So, I wasn’t the only parent that left that whole experience a bit embarrassed!

After their practice game, everyone got fruit snacks and a juice box.  I think that will seriously skew the boys’ attitudes in favor of t-ball lessons in the future!

The Sewer Follies

Last Thursday night, our area got seven and a half inches of rain in two hours.  Apparently, that’s two months worth of rain.  Well, needless to say, we got some water in our basement.  Not, not the kind you would think -- a little seepage from the foundation or an incorrectly set downspout.  Oh, no.  It was sewer water. 

I saw the dreaded stuff gushing out of the drain in a low fountain.  It had already hit the carpet by the time I saw it, so there was nothing to do except run around like a mad man picking up toys, books, photo albums, suitcases, crates and cardboard boxes that had been thoughtlessly left on the basement floor or low-lying shelves. Of course, I had dinner on the table for the boys and extra meatballs in the oven for freezing later, just adding the the stress.  (BTW - Those meatballs were hockey pucks when all was said and done.)

I immediately called Scott bawling (one would think I could have kept it together a little better) only to learn that he hadn’t even left work yet.  The flooding was so bad that the usual 17 minute drive home took over an hour and a half.  Roads were completely covered in water, cars had been washed away, even the highway was closed in several spots because the water was too high to drive through.  It was a crazy mess.

My favorite part of the evening was when the tornado sirens went off.  Being from Kansas, I could see that our area was not actually in immediate danger.  But, since we couldn’t go in the basement, I shuffled the four boys into the bathtub, just in case.  I felt like someone trying to keep wiggly puppies together in a box.  I’d run downstairs for an armload of stuff only to return to see someone had wandered off into the kitchen or the hall way and I had to usher them back to the tub.  After a few minutes in the tub, I heard a big scafuffle.  “Mommy!  Joe peed on me!”  I couldn’t even imagine, but he had.  That little turkey.  In the midst of the craziness, the spirit of naughtiness overtook him, and he peed on his brother’s foot, right there in the bathtub.

That must have been a rough night for all of the kids – lots of yelling on my part, maybe an undeserved spanking or two in my effort to keep everyone away from the basement.  Hopefully, they’ll forgive me.  Once Scott got home, we couldn’t wait to get them in bed and start cleaning up.  The water had receded by then – only a few minutes after I hear the city pumping at the end of our street.  Really, you couldn’t have pumped an hour ago and avoided all of this mess?

Scott took the next day off, and a friend mercifully watched Andrew and the older boys watched TV while we ripped up the nasty carpet and pad.  Let me tell you, there are not too many things I deal with everyday that are so gross.  My own kids’ poo is fine, but other people’s poo?  Yuck.  The carpet pad was just like a big sponge.  Fortunately, the city put out dumpsters at the end of the street to collect all of the contaminated refuse.  Gee, thanks, city.  So generous of you.

My parents came the next day on a planned visit.  Bad timing for them, but kind of good for us.  My mom watched the kids while my dad helped us Clorox out the basement and wash down anything that survived.  We went through three gallons of Clorox and a bottle of Lysol.  As it turns out, we didn’t lose too much.  All of the kids clothes and toys are in plastic bins.  We brought down the kiddie pool and filled it with bleach water and washed down the bottoms of all of the bins.  It was a brilliant idea stolen from a neighbor.  I did lose a pack ‘n’ play, but less than a week later, I had a woman offering me hers since they were done with it forever.  Nice.

The best part of all of this was the neighbors helping each other out.  Julie and her two daughters used to live next door, but sold their house a year ago.  They all came back over that next morning to help out the neighbor across the street who was recently widowed.  If it’s bad cleaning up other people’s poo in your own basement, how much worse is it doing it in someone else’s basement?  It was a beautiful thing to see.

So, that’s the end of the story.  Mom and Dad are here now (Dad’s actually in Osh Kosh for a few days) and they’ve lost their ‘guest room’ that is our basement.  The boys miss their play room.  Even bleached out, there’s a red dust of some sort from previous flooring that sticks to their feet and coats the bottoms of their shoes or bottoms if they sit on the floor.  Plus, most of the toys are being stored in the garage.  At least it’s summer and we can shove them out doors!

Two wheels

Joe can ride a two wheeler now!  The training wheels are off! Grammie and Granddad came to visit us.  We had a great time at parks and goofing off at home.  One day we went for a walk around the track.  I’ve been wanting Joe to learn without his training wheels all summer, but never got around to it.  Well, today was the day!

Someone gave us a little razor scooter earlier this summer, and we noticed that Joe could balance that just fine.  When I first took the training wheels off, Joe got on the bike and immediately rode to the end of the driveway completely unassisted.  Even at the end, he managed to stabilize himself without a major tumble when he came to a stop. After that, he sailed down the street.  All by himself.  It’s like he had been chained down by his extra wheels, and when we took them off, he was FREE!

There was something about this ride that made me feel like we should have tried it sooner – he was obviously more than ready.  In a way, that’s how I felt about his reading.  We worked on it for a few months every night last winter, but never very hard.  Then one day, he just took off.  If he didn’t know a word, he guessed or would sound it out, but he read with relative ease.  We hadn’t even gotten through most of the rules – we had just started with ‘silent e’ which is really the first of the semi-complicated phonics rules.  I was kind of proud of myself to teaching him how to read, but truth be told, he kind of did it himself.

Also, on this visit with Grammie and Granddad, we all went out to eat at Cracker Barrel.  Delish!  On the way home, we stopped off at a park the boys like only to discover that the splash pad was already turned on.  Even though the boys didn’t have any swim gear, we played anyway.  Andrew was just in his diaper and we were all watching him from behind giggling about how bloated it had gotten in the water.  Not five seconds later, another mom there, obviously annoyed, told me that my son had “poopies in his diaper and it’s running all down his leg”  So nasty!  None of us had noticed!  So, yeah, I’m that trashy mom that lets her kids play in the water improperly dressed.  Big deal.  The kids had a blast.

Andrew and Granddad at the park.

Happy 4th, everyone!

 

We spent the 3rd with our friends from school (Amelia pictured above).  Instead of getting pushed around and having a breakdown trying to keep track of our seven kids at the town parade, we opted for a (not so) quiet evening at their home.  Playing in the sprinklers, dinner, sparklers, bonfire with s’mores, and the town fireworks display, all from the comfort of the cul-du-sac!  Perfect summer evening.

 

Since we didn’t see the parade that night, we decided to trek out to a neighboring town to see theirs the next day.  It was a classic 4th of July parade with politicians, high school bands, and churches all handing out candy and hand shakes.  Even super tall Uncle Sam!

Patrick with sunscreen not really rubbed in giving a salute.

And, of course, the Wizard of Oz – apparently, a theatrical company advertising an upcoming show.  I’ve included it here because we were a little late to the parade.  In fact, we only got to see the last 10 or so entries, but we were at the very start of the parade route.  The boys were a little disappointed, so we got the bright idea to drive to the end of the parade route and hope the boys didn’t notice that it was the same parade.  They probably wouldn’t have noticed (maybe Joe and Patrick still haven’t) except that Luke remembered this entry and the jig was up.  We were caught.

  At Mass that morning (yes, so in case you’re keeping track, that’s one SUPER-late night out followed the next morning by Mass, then the –two- parades, then this…) a friend of mine told me about a 4th of July celebration in the town of Freistat.  The town is only (and I mean ONLY) a church on one corner and a pub on another corner, but the church puts on this big festival every 4th.  It was very kid friendly with games and hay-rides and tours of the old farms.

They also had dancing.  Not just any dancing, but old-world German dancing.  Only in Wisconsin can you celebrate the quintessentially American holiday with German food and dance.

This is how the fun day ended.

Super Siblings

 

Andrew:  Knock Knock

Joe:  Who’s there?

Andrew:  Poo Poo

All of the boys:  (uncontrollable laughter)

Once I sternly told him not to say those words, he leaned over to Joe at the dinner table and *whispered* the same joke!  Clever boy.

Does Andrew even know what he is saying??  I think all he knows is that it gets him some big laughs from the audience that means the most to him, his big brothers.

What can you say about siblings?  They must be good for kids, right?  I can see a huge difference in what Andrew does and can do verses what the rest of them could do at that age.  For example, Andrew can pedal a tricycle.  None of the other boys could until they were at least three.

And, just the other day, our little neighbor girl was afraid of her new swing until Andrew took a turn and she saw that it was okay.  Older siblings are great for that – trying stuff out first so we know they’re safe.

Joe’s a great big brother to Andrew.  I send him to find Andrew all of the time!  I even tell Joe to keep an eye on him so I can get a shower in or a little more sleep time when Andrew gets up at 5:30.  (this summer sunshine early in the morning is a killer!)  The twins, well, they’re okay with Andrew.  Not quite as loving as I would like, but they’re very concerned that he follows the rules.  And, even when Andrew hits them (out of frustration because one of them probably stole his toy) they never hit back.  They only just stand there and holler.

I think Andrew will be just as big of a ham as Joe is.  His three favorite words are “watch” “look” and “see”.  For example, he was about to do a ‘trick’ on the couch the other day.  I hear, “Mommy!  Look!  Ooo (you) watchin’?”  He bounces a few times on the couch cushion and plops onto his bottom.  “Ooo see?  Zat funny?”  Yes, Andrew, Mommy saw, and yes, I thought it was funny.

And, just to show how different the siblings can be, Patrick has volunteered to clean up the basement twice now.  This is a HUGE feat for one little boy.  Both times, he spent at least an hour sorting toys and putting everything in it’s place.  Amazing, really.  He said it’s sometimes more fun than playing!  I feel like God has given me a little gift with this new interest of Patrick’s.  Now, if I can only get one of them as interested in cleaning the bathroom.