One Lone Pine

"You don't get pine trees from oaks."

That was our pediatrician's take on expecting tall offspring. As he reviewed Matthew's measurements today, he said, "Enjoy it while it lasts - he's at the 75th percentile." I replied, "We might have a pine afterall." But Dr. J only laughed and said, "I doubt it."

I pulled out the other boys' baby books to compare stats. He's 3 oz. heavier and 1/4 in. shorter than Andrew, and 2 oz. smaller and 3/4 in. longer than Stephen at the same age. Obviously, they slowed down along the way and are just average (which is to be expected). Time will tell whether or not #3 will inherit some of the few tall genes lurking in the extended family.

Now, he's just perfect for Matthew.

Two Months and Still in One Piece

WARNING: This entry may be like one of those endless home movies to which you have been subjected by a "friend." Choose one of the below expressions as fits:

1. Feign indifference and muddle through
2. Roll your eyes and grit your teeth
3. Run from your computer screaming and crying

Matthew (or "Maff-a-yooou" as Stephen pronounces it) is two months old and aside from being whacked in the head with a pool noodle this week, he has had no injuries. That in itself is noteworthy. On the flipside, however, is that I realized this week that the poor child has had no chance to just lay in the floor and kick his feet (for obvious reasons). So I made a concerted effort to give him some floor time, and he really enjoyed it.

Here is exactly-to-the-minute two months old in this shot (it wasn't on purpose - I just happened to look at the clock and had the camera in my hand).

Here are a couple of his sweet smiles which he freely gives, and from the sound of things, he's going to give the other boys a run for their money in the talking department.

My greatest anxiety in the final weeks of pregnancy was protecting the babe from a wild 2 year old. Though somewhat justifiable, the reality has been much better than I imagined. Stephen is quite loving and attentive (though you can only guess who was holding the pool noodle that whacked the baby). Here is Stephen "holding" Matthew (who doesn't look real thrilled!).

Stephen supervising tummy time.

Stephen giving Matthew a kiss.

Stephen cramming Matthew's pacifier in his mouth.

But my favorite shot of all is Stephen "reading" to Matthew. "The octopus looks really great. Instead of two arms he has eight. Count one-two-three-six-eight, Maff-a-yooou."

It was a wacky week weather wise. Andrew asked me Monday morning if it was snowing. I thought he probably saw blooms from the 'Bradford' pear tree falling, but when I looked out, it was indeed snowing big, fat flakes. They didn't last long and by Thursday afternoon, it was 76 degrees.

The boys enjoyed giving the monkey grass a haircut, and Andrew helped me divide and move some daylilies while the other boys rested. Here he is with the daffodils he picked for me (all of which had 1" stems): "Are you surprised? I bet you did not know that I was going to pick you a beautiful bouquet of flowers."

Here is a nice picture of Andrew without a cheesy smile.

Forget the Gym

Don't waste your money anymore on those high-priced gym memberships - here's a better solution: go to the grocery store with two or more children.

Need strength training? Grab one of the surplus Army tank shopping carts and load up your kiddos (right away you're likely moving 75+ lbs.); then go up and down all aisles while stocking your cart.
*** Extra credit - go to Sam's Club where everything is industrial size ***

Looking for an aerobic workout? Let your kiddos (to truly get a workout there must be at least 2 children without any type of tethers or leashes) walk with you through the grocery store. To guarantee that you meet your maximum heartrate, walk through the cookie/candy/treat aisle.
*** Extra credit - go to Wal-Mart where you are not only sure to forget something and crisscross the store numerous times, but the Wally World Time Warp assures that you will be active for an adequate period.

Don't have kids? Borrow some from a poor, tired mother and consider it multitasking: exercise, shopping, good deed.

Siblings and Sewer Pipes

A rather unusual combination unless you know my children.

For some reason the older boys have been unusually obsessed with sewer pipes for the last month or so. They somehow manage to work the subject into most every conversation.

At dinner, Stephen talks about food going down his sewer pipe.

They periodically ask about what happened to the pair of underwear Andrew flushed down the toilet last fall and wonder whether we can get it back.

I often find them both with their heads inside the rim of the toilet watching the water swirl down.

We store our playdough and cutting supplies in an old baby wipe container and last week Andrew was fashioning, well, I'll just say #2, and dropping it into the potty (the pop-up hole in the top); I can guarantee that this never occurred to my sister or I to do.

They connected a bunch of pool noodles together to make their water pipes then sent pencils sliding through.

Since they forgot to ask Uncle Wes about the flow of water and waste through the sewage pipes to the water treatment plant, I had to sit down and read about it in Underground, a wonderful (though advanced) book by David Macauly. The boys were thrilled. Now we can sing a song about sewage:

Them pipes, them pipes, them sewer pipes,
Them pipes, them pipes, them sewer pipes,
Them pipes, them pipes, them sewer pipes,
Oh, they carry the waste away.

Well, the house pipe's connected to the lateral,
The lateral's connected to the submain,
The submain's connected to the main pipe,
Then it goes to the water treatment plant.

Them pipes, them pipes, them sewer pipes,
Them pipes, them pipes, them sewer pipes,
Them pipes, them pipes, them sewer pipes,
Oh, they carry the waste away.

Easter Eggstravaganza

Good Friday was indeed good when the boys slept until 7 (something that has only occurred on a few rare occasions). Although we got off to a late start, we had an enjoyable trip, especially since we listened to James and the Giant Peach (it brought back fond memories of CCS).

As Andrew spotted the tree house Grandpa had built, he immediately started shouting, "Unbuckle me! Unbuckle me!" I don't know how many hours they spent outside playing with all of the old Army and construction vehicles, climbing into the treehouse and shooting bad guys, and hunting and hiding Easter eggs.

Dump truck races down the walkway.




Stephen taking a break from constructing a 37 story building.




One of Doug's high school buddies sells tractors and other farm equipment. Here is Andrew "driving" a camoflage mule.




The boys have finally caught onto the idea that holidays=gifts, therefore I was unable to recycle stocking stuffers for their Easter baskets. Thanks to Target's great clearance endcaps, however, I found some cool stuff only to realize while loading their buckets that we had no candy. Never fear - Grandma to the rescue. She provided a large bag full of Skittles, gummy Life Savers, gummy worms, and assorted chocolates.

Here are the boys counting their eggs

Matthew had the most exciting Easter gift of all - A&D ointment (who could ask for anything more?) Also included were Pooh shoes (baby gift courtesy of Mrs. O), a pacifier ribbon, and two teething toys (clearance from Wal-Mart).

Matthew was quite charming during our trip. He traveled well (which is good since Doug hates to stop). He smiled and cooed and ate and slept. Here is Matthew with Grandpa

and with Grandma.
The dreaded family Easter picture (it was actually much better than I had anticipated).

Doug and I with the only child we could make stay still for a picture.

Matthew and I

We returned late Sunday night from a busy yet fun weekend in Mississippi. We could not have asked for better weather; the food was great (yummy Shrimp Creole); and it was good to see all of the relatives.

Last, but not least, my sleep-deprived take on " 'Twas the Night Before Christmas":

'Twas the first night at Grandma's when all through the home
Everyone was sleeping, no children did roam.
The kids were all settled snug in their beds
While visions of dumptrucks danced in their heads.

With Doug soundly sleeping and Matthew all fed,
I finally got to lay down my head,
When all of a sudden I heard a great cry,
I threw back the covers, from the bed I did fly.

Out in the hall Andrew stood in a trance,
Distraught, he couldn't find the beloved ambulance.
With the vehicle located, the child tucked tight,
I was hoping I could finally rest for the night.

It wasn't to be: someone needed dry clothes,
Another was sad, Doug kept blowing his nose.
And poor baby Matthew began to fuss,
With unconsolable tears, he then joined us.

At six cheery Stephen was ready to start
But we were able to persuade him that it was still dark.
At half past seven, Andrew did arise
Dressed and ready to play outside.

Our sleep had been fitful at very best,
I wouldn't call it a "good night's rest."
And we both declared when we finally awoke,
"When traveling with kids, sleeping's a joke."

Combined Celebration

Today marks thirty-seven years since my parents were married, and for the past thirty years, they have also celebrated their best anniversary gift ever - ME!

When Andrew got up this morning he said, "We got you Skittles. Do you want to open your package?" as he and Stephen started ripping paper. I'm sure it was much more fun than my methodical unwrapping.

Andrew is really into birthdays (or any celebration) because it usually calls for cake or some other sweet treat, the only food category from which he enthusiastically eats. Yesterday he helped me make my sister's Nasty Chocolate Cake but failed to eat dinner so he didn't get any. Maybe tonight will be better.

He's also been hinting all week that maybe I would like a Tow Mater or a Sticker race car for my birthday (Indian giver?). Unfortunately, no one got me either.

Sabbath Rest

Though I could find no reference in my Bible's concordance, I'm sure there's a verse requiring a Sunday afternoon nap. It was certainly commanded when I was a child, though now that I think about it, it never seemed to pertain to my sister.

In any case, my children are regular lawbreakers (is stoning in order?). During the week, they are generally cooperative with a time of quiet and rest; come Sunday, it's a different story.

Before Matthew was born, a friend told me that she just stopped trying to nap after her 3rd child was born because she would get so angry when she was awakened early. I thought it was crazy at the time; now I understand.

Our room shares a wall with the boys, we can hear all their thumps (such as Andrew kicking the wall and Stephen jumping off the bed). Last week I retired to the couch, but it was in useless - our house is small and the boys are loud. After threats and reprimands to their rears and still no sleep, I gave up.

This week was going to be different. They were really tired from going to bed late and getting up early. I lay on our bed trying desperately to tune them out. Doug gave them a couple of stern lectures. Nearly an hour later, they were still awake and moving. I was busy nursing the baby (Doug was somewhere else) when as I heard their door open, the sound of feet madly racing down the hall and back, and the door slam shut. This was repeated a few times before I heard the following:

Doug: "Where are your pants?"
Stephen: "In the bathroom."
Doug: "Why are they in the bathroom?"
Stephen: "Because I'm supposed to be lying down."

Perfectly logical. (Just like the request, "Can I have a marshmallow because I didn't use the potty?" Umm, NO!)

Once again they were returned to their beds. When the kitchen timer went off 30 minutes later signaling the end to their period of confinement, Stephen was finally sound asleep. Cheerful and chatty Andrew joined me to read a book.

And so goes another Sunday afternoon - as Laurel Lee wrote, "Sleep is a mirage."

Being tired is just a given in the world of motherhood. As a wise woman wrote, "You can either be tired or tired and angry. It's a lot easier to just be tired." Just don't run out of coffee!

Week in Review

You would think by now I would get the hang of this. Every afternoon around 4 pm I am striken with the realization that I must serve my family something for dinner. (A quick calculation shows that this has happened nearly 1500 times since the arrival of children). It's not that I don't like to cook or even mind going to the grocery store. It's planning what to eat for a week (or even a few days) that is difficult. Nothing appeals to me anymore, groceries are expensive, the children are picky, and we have a number of wacky dietary restrictions.

I once read an essay about a woman's mother who routinely served a dish on Sunday night called "Week in Review." Basically she took the various leftovers from the week, mixed all in a casserole dish, topped it with cheese and baked until bubbly.

So at 5 o'clock I opened the fridge and this is what I saw: a jar of pickles, a jar of applesauce, carrots and celery, various condiments. Even with a thick layer of cheese, I don't think you could make a meal.

It was time for Plan B, which I am ashamed to admit, is the standard chicken nugget. Actually there is nothing standard about a bunch of spare chicken parts, breaded and shaped into the form of a dinosaur. Nevertheless, it was quick and the children will eat them. Who can resist a funny face?



Actually, Andrew can. He refused to eat the pineapple eyes (even though he had eaten them earlier in the week) so he had to sit at the table until he was finally saved by the bath.

For us, Doug hit the local bar (Merv's) for the biggest, cheapest burgers out there. While I waited for him to return, I perused the grocery store ads and made a list. I even went to the store while he bathed the boys. We'll see if next week is any better.

And for our Week in Review activity wise:

We enjoyed the warm weather and the return of picnic lunches (which are great 'cause the ants handle cleanup). Once again, Andrew refused to eat his food (a sunflower butter and strawberry jam sandwich).

My mom gave me a book that lists various activities to improve listening skills and Andrew loves to read through it. We decided to try tapping on glasses (empty, 1/2 full, and completely full) to test the sound. Stephen thoroughly enjoyed the chance to bang on something.

I love this look on Matthew's face. Maybe there is a correlation between the number of chins and the amount of happiness!

And here he is modeling a big boy outfit.

Best of all, this marks the first week in 2008 when we had no medical appointments. Quite an achievement with 3 small kids.

Matthew at Six Weeks

Our sweet, baby Matthew is six weeks old today. He's been smiling for a couple of weeks, but we were finally able to catch one of those beautiful grins this weekend while he admired his dad. I'm guessing he weighs about 10 pounds.
He loves to watch his brothers, especially Stephen (probably because he's always in his face). The other day Stephen was in the floor talking to Matthew, and Matthew began cooing in response; Stephen was amazed.

In this shot, Matthew is about 4 days old.

And here he is with Andrew today (yet another one of Andrew's strange expressions):

A Trip to the Zoo

Yesterday we went to the zoo. This is what we saw:


a locomotive



scaffolding





tanker cars





a bulldozer





and freight cars.





Oh, and there were "some birds that could say 'hello' and 'bye-bye' just like you and me." (Andrew and then repeated by Stephen)

God Led Me to Wal-Mart

The word conjurs up a wide variety of thoughts. For some it is the greatest thing since sliced bread. For others it is a bastion of evil and any support of its policies and practices could have eternal ramifications. For most, I suppose, it is a necessary evil, providing one-stop-convenience in a busy world.

I debated this all as I told Doug last night that I needed to run out (sans kids) for a few things. He gasped as he is currently litigating a case against the aforesaid company. But how could I thwart the Lord's will?

My trip had been delayed several days due to fatigue, so after nursing the baby and putting the other boys to bed and finishing other various and sundry tasks, I arrived much later than my schedule had planned. Then for some unknown reason, I went down the diaper aisle; we didn't need diapers.

It was there I met a young mother of twins and inquired of their age. She glowingly told me they were 3 months old (they were due the day before Matthew but came early), sweet babies, and that she was a single mom with no family in town. Then she said, "I wasn't going to have them."

It took a moment for my sleep-deprived brain to register what she meant. She had graduated from college with a 3.8 GPA, just finished her master's in criminal justice, and was applying to get her doctorate when she found out she was pregnant. Through AAA Women's Services she found support through a wonderful counselor. They even called her when a donor dropped off a load of twin girl clothes.

Since moving to Chattanooga we have supported AAA through annual fundraising banquets, Walks-for-Life, and random donations. The director even attends our church. I'm glad we've been blessed to be able to support in these ways, but it is nothing compared to meeting a woman one-on-one who has been helped and to see her two smiling babies who were given life. She is so thankful for the choice she made.

I'm so thankful that my plans were re-directed so that I had the opportunity to talk to this lady. It was a reality check to realize that my life really isn't that rough (though Satan loves my little pity-parties). I was encouraged by her upbeat spirit, despite taking care of two infants 24/7. I was more than happy to offer any support that I could provide.

The Lord moves in mysterious ways, even in Wal-Mart.

Heads Up, Fashion Police

Andrew, who has never given a flip as to what he wears, insisted on changing pants after our previous photo session. Here is the result: a size 4T boy crammed into 24M pants!

They fall just below his kneecap and prove what a beanpole the boy-who-eats-nothing really is. We'll just pretend he's wearing a football jersey.

CORRECTION: I just looked this morning, and the pants are actually 18 month!

It's Not Easy Being Green

I admit I'm a little green. Not the environmental, tree-hugging type (though we faithfully recycle our paper and plastics and bought the funny, spiral lightbulbs); I'm talking about that little thing called envy.

I can't seem to understand how other families seem to manage pictures of smiling, neatly dressed children. It's not that our kids don't have nice smiles, are unable to sit still and can't follow directions; apparently requiring these three things to occur simultaneously while someone captures the image with a camera is too much.

Photo sessions tend to be an effort to take as many pictures as possible and hope that one is okay (or in the case on my folks' Christmas card, being able to cut and paste kids as needed). Cameras and multiple children seem to be a recipe for disaster, and crying usually ensues.

Case in point is my effort to take a "spring photo" on sunny afternoon this week. After determining it was unrealistic to cart 3 kids, the boppy, a blanket, and camera down the street to sit in front of some daffodils, I asked my neighbor if we could use their luscious, green grass. Thankfully she even assisted with the baby (who was awakened from a nice nap to be changed twice before being subjected to the glaring sunlight). It was five minutes of torture for everyone. Unfortunately I erased the worst shots, but this is typical of what we manage to get.

Andrew is absorbed in his Thomas train whistle while Stephen pesters Matthew.

This was the best of the lot. We seem to have better luck with the profile shots which don't require the boys to have decent smiles or to actually look where I tell them to.

I guess Eeyore was right: "We can't all and some of us don't. That's all there is to it."

Dam Boys

There are days when there may be slight alterations to the title of this post, but thankfully not today.

The much needed rain earlier in the week filled the ditches of our yard with water, providing a perfect spot for two stir crazy boys to play. While the boys fished for tractors and threw countless sticks into the water, I acted as the Head Engineer (with my trusty assistant Matthew warmly wrapped and safely strapped in the Bjorn).

At first we studied an existing dam formed by a tree root and leaves. Then we broke pieces of fallen tree limbs to create our own dam. Finally we cleared the first dam until the water flowed freely, and sailed dandelion and flowering quince boats over the "waterfall."

Although the boys both soaked their shoes, no one fell in - a minor miracle.

And here is the assistant at 5 weeks old. In honor of the milestone, he slept 5 straight hours!!!

Entering the 21st Century

So we're nearly a decade late...better late than never, I suppose.





I've toyed with the idea of creating our own blog (or "blahg" as Doug likes to call them). I can't promise profound thoughts or well-scripted prose, but the youngest residents of the house provide plenty of humorous ancedotes (and the occasional profound thought!). And since "everyone else is doing it," why not?!





So here's to the launch of the Hamill Home blog (probably a better choice than "Momentary Trials").