Our Installment of Home Alone (but only for a couple minutes…)

Before I share the anecdote at hand, I found out today that if I cared about my personal stories getting out to people I know that I should be a bit more careful in the information I provide.  I received an e-mail this morning from Carol, one of our marketing gurus, letting me know that Google Blog Alerts had my posts all over her computer screen.  Not really knowing anything about this whole blog alert thing, I e-mailed back that I didn’t know what she was talking about.  As it turns out, if I mention the company’s name that I work for, then it pops up on her computer, since she tracks any discussion going on about us in the blogosphere.  Lord only knows where else in the company it popped up, so for all I know the story about me wearing my wife’s pants (accidentally!) could be working its way up the ranks this very moment.

Fortunately for you, and for me I think, I lack pride.  I like myself, and me being an idiot every now and then adds to my appeal, I believe.  If you can’t laugh at yourself, I think your life is not as good as it otherwise could be.  So, Carol at TRAVEL GUARD, enjoy the next anecdote!

Wendy has actually covered this briefly on http://thebluehouse.wordpress.com a few days ago.  But it’s a fun story, so I’ll share my version of it here.  

Before I start, though, I want to assure everyone that not much time elapsed.  Unfortunately, people today are so freaking paranoid and ready to pounce on every little innocent mistake parents make (especially parents of larger families) that I almost hesitate to share this story.  People have lost their sense of humor and have elevated expectations of parents to the point of ridiculousness.  That’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.

Anyway, last Sunday the family was getting ready for Sunday Mass, when something unusual happened…  we lost track of time and needed to scramble in order to get going in time.  (You may have caught the sarcasm in that whole “something unusual” remark…)  It seems like, no matter how much time we actually have, we manage to not have enough.   I don’t know how that happens.

Well, a few things were in confluence on this day that made us scramble.  I had to get Tillie (our dog) into the kennel, and then realized at the last minute that our car seats and booster seats and all that stuff needed to be transferred to the big, honkin’, white cargo van.

Just as I left the house to take care of that, I heard Wendy tell the boys to get their coats and shoes and such on and get out into the van. So, I was frantically moving seats, the kids were frantically scurrying out the door and getting into the van, and finally Wendy came out and got into the van, while I looked at the clock and lamented that we may not make it in time for the start of Mass.

After taking a deep breath or two and relaxing, as Wendy continued tradition by putting her make-up on in the van as we were driving, we were finally in control. Just as I was trying to figure out how much of Mass we would miss if our Priest started Mass 2 minutes early like he always does, the 7-year-old (AJ) turned to speak with the 2-year-old (TM) who sits right next to him. “Hey , look at… Hey! Where’s T.M.?”

Collectively, everyone in the van said, “What?!”

Wendy turned around. No TM.

Fortunately, it had only been a couple minutes. Our road is about a mile and a half to the first turn, and we were maybe halfway down the road. And, of course, I turned around immediately. Visions of screaming TM, psychologically crushed that we left him behind, danced through our heads. We pulled back into our driveway, Wendy hustled inside, and the rest of us waited. We waited a little longer. Finally, after waiting some more, mother and son were reunited with the rest of the family.

As it turns out, TM was up in a far corner of the house taking care of a little business of his own. Wendy had to take care of that odorous business before coming back outside. He never even knew we were gone (thankfully).

It would have made a better story had we not figured it out until we reached the Church, but it’s a good thing for all involved that didn’t happen. Plus, I probably wouldn’t share the story if that had happened. And no, we didn’t miss Mass, though we had to go to a different church.

From now on, though, maybe we need a pull-tab system or something to let us know that everyone has left the building.

“There’s Poop on the Refrigerator”

Under the list of proclamations that a man doesn’t particularly care to hear, this one ranks right up there.  Nonetheless, this was the information provided by my four year old last evening. 

Fortunately, he was referring to a play refrigerator in the bedroom.  Apparently, the two year old overextended his diaper and then brushed up against the big plastic fridge before he was caught and changed.  

Upon further investigation, however, I did not see a mere smudge, but a glob. 

Ah, parenthood.   You pretty much know what you’re going to get, you just don’t know quite how you’re going to get it.

It just gets louder…

In today’s society, those of us with “large” families kind of stick out.  We have seven children.  A few years ago, I would ahve considered this a large family, and I suppose I still do a little bit.  But the truth is, you get used to it.  It’s not like we sit around on a daily basis and think to ourselves, “Wow…  how’d this happen?  (um, and yes, we do what causes it, thank you very much for asking…).  We go on with our lives like everyone else does and we play the hand we’ve been dealt and we adjust.  

It’s kind of interesting how the perception of “what we can handle” changes as time goes on.  Back when we had two kids, having four or five seemed like a remarkably difficult thing.   When we had three, five or six seemed insane.   When we had four, six or seven seemed ridiculous to imagine.  This continued on merrily until we’re here today with seven kids and now the thought of nine or ten seems like it’s too much too handle.   We’re now to the point where if a couple of our kids visit Granpa and Grandma for a weekend and we “only” have five, we’re like “This isn’t even parenting!  What a piece of cake!”

Anyway, back to the culture we live in, where having four kids is considered insurmountable odds.   I can’t complain, in general, about the response I receive when I am asked about my family.  Oh, I hear all those “tongue-in-cheek” comments about getting fixed or what-not from the occasional person, but all in all people react with a mix of appreciation and astonishment.  The conversation inevitably has some variation of the phrase “That’s great that you can do it.   I never could.”

When asked how I can handle all of them, my general answer is that because the oldest kids actually grow and are taught to assist and be responsible and stuff, you kind of reach this critical mass of work around the four or five kid mark.   After that, it just gets louder.

I don’t think people really believe me, but it’s true.   I think what people can’t get past is that I am not saying the work ends or alleviates any time soon.  I’m not saying it’s not a sacrifice.  I’m not saying that I will be saddened the last day I ever put on a diaper.  I’m not saying that my wife isn’t tied down in many ways to a nursing baby.  What I am saying is you reach a point where there’s only so much you can do, and you make determinations about what is really important for you, your family, and your children.  And in the end, I really believe the whole group is all the happier for it. 

We don’t buy in to certain cultural norms that seem to think it’s cute or OK for the kids to fight with or not like each other.  The kids need special permission to exclude their family members from activities they are engaging in.  The norm is that we don’t do that.  I can honestly say that all of our kids like all their brothers and sisters (not that there aren’t certain times where they get mad at each other.  That would be crazy talk.)  All in all, we have really tried to strike a balance between letting them be kids and giving them responsibility.

I think it also actually helps that we homeschool.  People can’t seem to grasp that homeschooling may be a huge commitment, but it’s probably less stressful overall than running around to all the different school activities and teachers conferences while holding a job and trying to worry about daycare and all those things.  For as many questions as I get about “How do you do it?” I look at what other people are doing, which is the accepted norm, and I ask, “How do you do it?”  You can say whatever you want about the reasons for or against homeschooling, but what i can tell you is that we have plenty of friends who have otherwise good kids, and the parents are becoming frustrated at the attitude these kids pick up from their peers.  It doesn’t have to be big stuff, but it pretty much comes down to “I’m the center of the Universe, you and the rest of the family should cater to my needs, and by the way, you’re really kind of dumb and don’t understand me.”   Obviously, it’s not every kid, but there are enough stories of that where I look at my own family and think “Thanks God.”

Now, I’m not an idiot, even though I play one on the internet.   I realize that these young skulls do think on their own and at some point may well think I’m dumb, or too strict, or whatever.  But I think we can work with that and teach them that they have a right to opinions, but there is an expectation of respect.   That will be enough to deal with without them getting fed all sorts of garbage from their peer group.

But I digress a bit, as I often do.  

I guess I just want to present reality to people from someone who has been there.  If you think my wife and I went into our marriage thinking “Wouldn’t it be great to have 7 kids?” then you’re wrong.  We were caught up in things like many others and placed ourselves and our own plans and goals ahead of such frivolous foolishness like actually bringing more life into the world.  And while our attitude on that changed markedly over time, with every step along the way we admittedly did not necessarily think to ourselves that this is the greatest thing since sliced bread.  Announcements of newly expected kids were met with a combination of joy, anxiety, questioning, nervousness, fear, excitement, and a general hope that we would be able to keep our sanity.    But as with most things, once you accept it and move on, you realize that not only can you handle it, but it’s a huge blessing.

I don’t accept it when the people say to me “I couldn’t do it.”   No, really, you choose not to do it (unless you have a physical impediment or other major issue to deal with).   Just be honest about it.  If you had to do it, you could.  You may not beleive it, but you may actually like it. 

A larger family forces you into choices that bring about simplicity.  But I see this as a positive.   One of the reasons why parents with two kids can’t imagine having more kids these days is because they have the kids involved in every damn thing that comes along.   Any parent with two or three kids in hockey aroound here puts nearly every weekend on the shelf for about six months.  You want insane?  That’s insane.   Every kid needs to be in music lessons, dance, three sports, on top of daycare and school activities.  Everything is scheduled.   It’s no  wonder the idea of more kids is incomprehensible. 

I’m here to tell you that you are not doing your kids a disservice by saying “You can pick one thing.  When you get older, we’ll talk about whether or not you can do more than one thing.”   Our kids are not being run all over the place.  We tell them to go outside, even if they don’t want to.  Inevitably, they build a fort or ride their bikes, or sled in the snow.  They act like kids unconcerned about a schedule of events.  Video games are severely restricted.  We have a Sony Playstation 1, and about the only games we have are football, scrabble, a racing game, and the old classics like Pac-Man and Centipede and stuff.  They are allowed to play it only on Sundays, and only when it’s raining or severely cold.   In other words, they play it maybe a half-dozen times a year. 

This lack of access to a gameboy and a relatively unscheduled life allows and forces them to do things like read, or play, or pretend, or practice piano, or go camping, or do homework.   What a concept.

But I think I’m digressing again…

I’ll wrap it up now.  But, in the spirit of recognizing that all these little packets of energy can really tap your own energy, I leave you with my personal mantra:   “The years fly by, but the days seem to last forever.”

Play by Play Arrival of the Newbie

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on June 18, 2008.

As I could have attested even prior to this, and as others reading this can certainly also understand, the last few days have been a whirlwind. Thankfully, all has been going extremely well. For friends and family who are checking in and haven’t had a chance to catch the details, here’s the scoop. For those of you who don’t care and just want the next global temperature update, I’m working on the NCDC spreadsheets when I can, and am close to getting something up. But bear with me over the next few days.

Saturday morning I had considered heading up north to clean up and open the camper (yes, we still haven’t done that, between schedules and cold/rainy weather). As it turned out, it was a long week and I was exhausted Friday evening, and slept like a rock. When Wendy woke up the next morning, she shut off the alarm and let me sleep in because something was feleing just a tad different than usual. So, my lovely wife gave me the gift of sleeping in, and needless to say, the camper still has not been visited upon.

Introducing #7!

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on June 15, 2008.

Please help me welcome our new little guy, #7. Mother and baby are doing great! Can’t imagine a better way to celebrate Father’s Day!

At 9 lbs, 1.5 oz. he’s actually tied for our second smallest!

Our Own Little China Syndrome (aka: 5 year olds can do dumb things)

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on May 20, 2008.

 

Changing gears from the direction this blog has been headed (all climate all the time), I decided to lighten the mood with some family updates. I’ll try to keep this entertaining enough for everyone, but always remember the cardinal rule here: it’s my blog and I can do what I want.

 

 

Anyway, it’s been so long since an update on the personal front that I don’t know quite where to begin, so I’ll just start throwing stuff out there.

 

 

First, child #7 is expected in June. My extended carbon footprint indeed makes me a nemesis of Al Gore and his minions. Shucks… what will I ever do? Through the miracle of ultrasound technology, we know that we are expecting a son. Another one. The fifth in a row. God does have a sense of humor.

 

 

So, while we anxiously await the new arrival, we’ve also been waiting out the weather. I think we’ve finally reached the point here where we can consider planting the garden. Those who started their plants inside have a definite advantage this year. Just two nights ago it dipped down to 30 degrees here, and we’re over a week behind the previous years in getting the garden going. It looks like there are finally consistent seasonal temps ahead and we’re hoping to catch up.

 

 

The other thing the cooler temps have accomplished has been keeping us at home a bit more. Normally by now we’ve gone up and opened up the camper, cleaned it up, and enjoyed a weekend away. While I like camping, I don’t enjoy freezing, and so we have not yet taken advantage of the meager second home. Plus, there is the logistical issue now of the size of our family, the size of the people in our family, an ever-expanding abdomen on my wife, and so on. We are thinking the whole camper thing may be going away after this year. It’s a tough call, but we’ll see how that plays out.

 

A Welcome to Tillie

Originally posted by http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on February 15, 2008.

Well, I was going to do a “News of the Day” Post, but I’ll be honest, I scanned all my usual sources and there was just nothing that jumped out as worthy of extended discussion. I suppose I could talk about the snow in San Diego, but other than the fact that it’s weird that they got snow in San Diego, I’m not sure there’s much more to say. Just another anecdote related to the previous couple posts, I suppose.

So, instead, I just decided to do a random “catching up” post.

I’ll make this one about the new member of our family: Tillie, our Black Lab puppy.

Quick Thoughts on the World of Music

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on July 7, 2007.

I love music, but any time I’ve actually contemplated it, it strikes me as an unusual thing.  When you think about it, it’s a series of sounds put together in such a way that we actually derive enjoyment from those sounds.  There is some music that truly affects your emotions.  That can be both good and bad, and it may be in the form of energy and excitement to a stirring of the soul that is hard to explain.  I find music so enlightening and unusual, that I personally view it as a proof of God’s existence. 

Our family is immersed in the musical world, which could be considered a bit unusual since neither my wife nor I pursued it in any way in our education or as a profession (other than in high school when I was sure our rock band was going to make it big.  Unfortunately, there were approximately 800,000 other bands that thought the same thing, and most were better than we were). 

Over the years, we’ve ebbed and flowed with our musical participation, practice, and utilization.  But I’ve kept you all up to date on the CD I am working on.  The music is officially done, and the master has been finalized.  We now wait for the graphic design before reproduction can take place, so hopefully in a month or so I have s finished product.   Both Wendy and I are involved in a group called “Crossroad.”  Basically, it’s a band with people mostly from our Parish, and tonight we have our annual gig at the Church festival.   It’s our chance to learn a few songs, practice, play in a band and have good time.  It’s also outside in a tent that is going to be about 100 degrees.

The music continues on with our kids.  They all enjoy listening to music.  ByTheBook is proving very proficient with the piano, and at age 11 can play a number of classical pieces by memory.  Sheesh…  I can’t do that.  She is also doing well at the violin, and also wants to learn the guitar.  SweetTooth is proving the contrapositive of the old adage “practice makes perfect,” though.  She has talent and does well when you can get her to practice, but she’s not the most motivated.  She wants to take flute.  We’ll see…

 But that notwithstanding, she can sing very well and loves music, as do the other kids.  It’s a beautiful thing.

Whether it’s Camping or not, it’s for the Kids

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on June 26, 2007.

We have a 32 foot camper parked on a lake up in northern Wisconsin.  This last weekend, my Father-in-Law and Mother-in-Law joined us up at the grounds with their two grand-daughters (those would be the cousins to our kids for those of you who have trouble with those kinds of things).  In addition, Wendy’s brother and sister-in-law also made the trip up with their two kids.   Throw in our six kids and you have yourselves a whirlwind of non-stop activity.  And noise.

 

But, the kids love it.  And we all must remind ourselves of this fact when we are cooking and cleaning and changing diapers and wet clothes (only to see the dry clothes become dirty or wet again) and screaming and getting too close to the fire and wanting to fish and just being kids.  There is a four word mantra that we adults must repeat a few times throughout these weekends:  “It’s for the kids.”

 

Ah, yes.  Camping.  OK, my Father-in-Law broke down and actually bought a pop-up camper before the trip.  (My Mother-in-Law wanted nothing to do with tent camping.)   His issue is that this isn’t really camping.

 

So, let’s make one thing perfectly clear.  I don’t wish to argue about whether or not we are camping or not.  We are heading up north to swim, fish, eat somores, sit around a campfire, and relax.  If that’s not camping because I can actually sleep in a bed in a camper, then fine.  Call it “going up to our camper” if you wish.   But if you think that we should be “roughing it” in a tent with six kids ages 11 and under, I would basically laugh at you and call you insane.  It simply would never happen, anyway, so this gets us up there and gets the kids enjoying the outside.

 

So, anyway, this all came about because 3 years ago I happened to just mention to my boss that Wendy and I casually keep an eye out for campers because it’s one of those things we’d eventually like to get (because tent camping is insane with all the kids).  As it so happened, his mom was selling their old camper and he was selling the truck we’d need to pull the camper.  To make a long story short, we ended up taking advantage of a great deal and purchased it.

 

The next thing to do was find a place to park it.  I did not want to haul that thing around to different campsites throughout the summer.  I wanted to find a permanent spot in a private campground.  We were very disappointed with many/most of the ones we stopped at.  We wanted a regular campground.  We didn’t want a petting zoo, a public pool, a playground, and all that stuff.  We also didn’t want to be crammed into a spot surrounded by a gazillion other campers.  We were quite disappointed after our first few stops.  We did find a couple of opportunities that were OK, but nothing all that great.

 

Finally, we stumbled across a place on the Wisconsin/Michigan border.  It’s a small, privately-owned campground that is pretty much for camping, fishing, and swimming.  The surrounding area has hiking paths and bike paths, as well.  We felt fortunate enough to find this place, and we’ve called it “home” for three years now.

 

These are special times.  I am hopeful that the kids grow up with many fond memories of their time spent there.  They enjoy fishing, especially Sweettooth.  The boys, I’m sure, will take to it more as they get older.

 

Prior to getting the camper, I’d never driven a boat, let alone owned one.  I didn’t really fish, either.  I have found that I immensely enjoy fishing and boating.  I am learning as I go along, and trying to pass on what little wisdom I have to the kids.

Wendy and I have managed to “get away” without the kids a couple times, and this gives us a nice place to go.  It’s a great getaway.  We’ve even spent the occasional evening or two solo up at the camper for some short periods of contemplation.

But, in the end, we know that when you take six kids camping, it is not a relaxing weekend.   But these are special times.  I am hopeful that the kids grow up with many fond memories of their time spent there.  They enjoy fishing, especially Sweettooth.  The boys, I’m sure, will take to it more as they get older.

 

It’s for the kids.

How NOT to Remove a Wood Tick

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on May 31, 2007.  By far my most popular post.

I am about to write a post that proves that a pair of college graduates – one of whom took his share of Chemistry, Physics, and other courses on the way to becoming an actuary – can do something so stupid that any reasonable person would ask “What were you thinking?” Believe me, if someone else had done it, I would be calling the other person an idiot. And therefore, for consistency’s sake, let me be the first to say to myself, “You are an idiot.”

With that out of the way, allow me to tell the true story of last Sunday evening. We had all had a long couple of days. Prayer time was finished and it was time for the tykes to get into bed. And then, the fateful words were uttered: “<Outburst> has a wood tick in his head!”

Well, I have lived with ticks all my life, and it was not time to panic now. And so, my wife and I casually observed said wood tick. Sure enough, there it was, sucking the blood out of my eldest son’s head. Deep down, I was hoping it would suck out some of the thoughts that enter the kid’s brain from time to time, but I knew that was fantasy. I had to take care of the immediate problem at hand.

Well, my wife is generally proficient with the tweezers. Be it a sliver or a tick, when the tweezers come out, the kids scatter. But in the end, they are unable to escape the fate that belies them, and after a few screams along the lines of “You’re killing me!” my wife triumphantly raises the tweezers with the enemy foreign object, and screams her battle cry, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad!”

But this night would be different. The tick was in deep, and it had strategically burrowed itself in among numerous hair follicles. I believe the tick knew that this would cause immense pain to its victim, when the victim’s mother would accidentally latch onto the surrounding follicles while trying to pull out the tick. In any case, the tweezers on this night were not doing the job.

It was time to explore the old wives tales.

My wife’s first suggestion was to light a match and hold it up to the tick. Apparently, the theory is that the tick is smart enough to feel the heat and try to escape by backing out. Now, we’re talking about an animal that burrows a hole into other living things, sucks blood until it’s so big it has to let go, and once it falls off it can’t move anywhere and lays around until it’s either crushed or eaten. Survival instinct just doesn’t appear to be high on the priority list.

I balked at the match idea, considering the fact that I would be holding a lit match near the head of my six year old son, who would most likely be diagnosed with ADHD if we ever concerned ourself with actually getting him looked at.

Instead, I moved onto the next brilliant wives tale. If you hold a bottle of alcohol over the tick, it will back out. I’ve been told it’s because it can’t breathe and the alcohol bothers them. Well, the first mistake was thinking that this kid would actually sit there and let me hold the bottle tight enough so it wouldn’t leak all over the place. After two minutes of hearing “You’re hurting me!” with a lot of corollary movement and rubbing alcohol having been sent flying everywhere, it was decided that this technique probably wouldn’t work anyway, but certainly wouldn’t work in our case.

Crying and doused in alchol, with wood-tick still engorged, the son is losing faith in his parents’ tick-fighting prowess.

All of our kids are witnessing this activity, save the four year old who fell asleep during prayer time, like he always does.

Now, here’s where the story gets ridiculous. And you will see it coming, and you’ll think, “Um… DUH!” or some variant thereof. As embarrassing as it is, I must go on.

My wife, frustrated at the stupidity in thinking this whole rubbing alcohol approach had any chance of working, and mad at herself for allowing me to talk her into the idea, says to me, “This is not working at all. Let’s try the match thing.” As a loving husband who wishes to please my wife, and desires to see my son tick-free, I eschew all sense of reason and all knowledge of all things science, and how one thing reacts with another, and I answer “Alright. Give me a match.”

Now, there was probably 10 seconds or so from the time I declared those words to the time that the lit match was approaching the tick. That should be enough time for someone who took two semesters of Organic Chemistry to remember that rubbing alcohol and fire are a great combination if you want to set your house on fire. They are not so great a combination if your desire is to not set your child on fire.

Unfortunately, all we could think of was getting that tick out. It blocked all other thoughts that were attempting to leap from synapse to synapse in a frenzy, attempting to pull back my hand and say “You fool! Don’t do this!” But they were too late. The match approached the tick. And then…

Poof! The entire back of my son’s head was in flames. Now, let me be clear here… within two seconds we had that flame out and it all happened so quick that there were no burns. But man, he freaked out – and rightly so. Screaming at the top of his lungs, he dove to the ground. The other kids also freaked. I lost track of my two daughters until they came charging towards Outburst and doused him with water, which only freaked him out more. We yelled “What are you doing?” and they’re all like “He was on fire!”

Meanwhile, the tick was still enjoying its meal.

In the end, I called a nurse’s line, and explained about the tick and asked how best to get it out. I, um, forgot to relay the part about dousing my kid with rubbing alcohol and setting him on fire. Oops.

Anyway, she basically said you can forget about all these old wives tales. Just pull the thing out and hope for the best. Well, we did, and the head stayed behind. So, now we keep an eye on it and if we are unable to dig it out after the swelling goes down a bit, we’ll have to take him in and get it removed so it doesn’t get infected. It’s possible it will work out on its own, but we’ve heard that they often don’t. Yay. Unfortunately, we were unable to get it out without squeezing the body of it, which means some blood probably squirted into the wound. Now we have to watch for any indication of Lyme’s disease, as well, and get him treated if symptoms occur.

So let this be a lesson to you all. Not that you needed it, but never underestimate the stupid things you can do if the situation is just right. I’m still whacking myself in the head and asking how I could possibly have done such a stupid thing.

I guess it’s clear… I’m an idiot.

UPDATE 5/27/2008: Not long ago, we ordered the “Tick Twister.” It has mainly been used on the family dog, but it has also been used on the kids. I must say, it has worked very well, and compared to the number of harrowing encounters using tweezers or fingernails, it is a LOT better. I have no stake in their product, just passing along our positive experience with it – so far at least. I checked Petco and our vet’s office, but couldn’t find it around here, so we had to pay way too much ($9 versus $4) after shipping from Amazon. While I hate overpaying for things, it was worth it. If I do find any drawbacks, I’ll post them. As for concerns about leaving the head behind, well we’ve left more heads behind with a tweezers than we have the Tick Twister.