We've Moved!!!

As if I wasn't satisfied with enough change in my life this year, I've hung up my Blogger boots and made the decision to move the blog over to Wordpress. I've tinkered around all day with learning Wordpress and I'm satisfied that this was a good move forward. The transfer of the whole kit-and-kaboodle took all of 5 minutes. Remarkable really.

So update your links and meet the Knucker Hatch clan at:

http://www.ourgoldenapples.wordpress.com

When Angels Sleep

I counted twice. No. It couldn't be. Not already! One more counting on the calendar...two months? She's eight weeks?

Holy Canoli, she's beautiful.

When Angels Play

...and fall in love with green turtles.

A Sweet Cry

You ever had one? I'm talking about a good solid boo-hoo. And because you boo-hooed so much, you revisit it again, so you can boo-hoo all over again.

Like watching Old Yeller. You KNOW you are going to sob. But you watch it again anyway, because it stirs you. It makes you feel your heart.

Take two minutes out of your day and listen to this. You'll boo-hoo. And then you'll feel your heart. Especially if you haven't felt it in awhile. And then you'll find yourself clicking the play button again. And you'll boo-hoo again. And the whole thing feels Good all over.

----> The Sky Angel Cowboy

Because God is Good. And children are Delicious.
And when you put the two together, a sweet cry usually follows.

What December Does

I'm allowing myself five minutes to check in and remember what blogging is like. I try not to stress out over all of the missed days of online notetaking that are passing by. It happens at the end of every year in a giant crescendo. First the back to back birthdays, then Thanksgiving where family swings in town, the endless Christmas shopping, Christmas parties, the inevitable flus and sicknesses that begin to rack the family, and we can't forget getting the school schedules and ordering taken care of before January.

Right now I am knee deep in Faithy poo goo. It is AWFUL, rancid, stomach churning stuff. Going on Day 5. Ugh. I feel so bad for her. She hasn't been able to eat anything but milk for days. The first two days we dealt with the puke, now we've moved on to the poo goo. And even SHE can't stand her own stench, letting me know immediately after her stomach explosions that she is ready to be so out of her diaper. I think we're dealing with the lovely rotavirus. I really hope so, as that will hopefully mean that things won't pass on to other members of the family.

We are also knee deep in something much more pleasant. EGGS. The chickens are performing wonderfully with a recent record high of six eggs in one day. Today we had a record high of egg losses...one Jack dropped, one Faith broke tapping two eggs together, and another Faith threw after I caught her discovering some eggs I thought I had hidden from her. Me Mom? Playing with eggs? What eggs...?? (quick toss)

Hope is doing so well. She is such a sweet spot in our lives. She coos and sings to anyone who smiles at her. And she is now, sleeping through the night.

Jack and Grace are loving the recent surge in air temperature and can be found outside with rubber boots, rakes and roaming chickens, as they have decided to create a miniature haven for wildlife.

Time is up...and I have chosen to revisit my pillow rather than take a much needed shower. Pillows always beat showers. I hope all of you out there are having a delightful December.

Quips from Hatchlings

Jack: Mom? Did God build this house?

Me: No hun. Man built this house.

Jack: Well, where are the six houses that God built?

Me: Huh? What do you mean six houses? I don't think God built any houses in the Bible sweetie.

Jack: Yes He did. The Bible says he built six houses and on the seventh day He rested.


--------

(after overhearing a little Rush Limbaugh during a car ride home)

Grace: Mom? What is global warming?

Me: (A small shpeel on global warming, and both sides of the argument.)

Jack: Woah. I wonder what global colding is like?

Whoopee! Our First Farm Produce.

This frosty morning after breakfast, Sir Bugga-Lot decided that he was going to check the chicken coop for an egg. Lately the chickens have been squatting when we approach which is a sign that they are maturing nicely. For some reason, I decided to give him a pre-egg hunting pep talk, telling him that more than likely the chickens will not lay their first eggs in the nest boxes, and to look carefully on the floor of the coop.

Tom Builder and I watched amused as he came running back with an excited look on his face talking very animated to Grace who had gone out to the coop after him. They started running back up to the house with giant smiles on their faces. And then I realized, Jack was holding something in his fist as he ran back up the hill. And I got very Egg-cited! Our first beautiful brown egg, found on the floor of the coop, more than likely courtesy of our Speckled Sussex "Sugar" or our giant Plymouth Rock "Mother Goose". It is a valiant first effort from whomever, since it is not too much smaller than a large egg from the grocery store.


Now the hard part...I can't get Sir Bugga-Lot to let me, as he puts in his words, "roast it".

Update! This just in from Knucker Hatch Farms. Another egg has been laid to make our first collection a two egger! This time, Grace spotted the layer hanging out between the two nest boxes, a favorite chicken from the beginning, our ever curious super flier "Ginger". Folks, we have an official breath taking Ameraucana blue-green egg.

I know it's going to probably sound silly to the rest of you, but I don't care, these eggs are gorgeous. The shells are works of art. There is something about holding an egg that is still warm from the chicken you've raised since Day 1. What I used to look at simply as a means to an end in my cooking, is now a real object of beauty.

What A Bulletin Board Is Good For

About three weeks ago, I was in a homeschooling slump. Its not that I was tired of homeschooling or that the kids were complaining of boredom. Perhaps it was the onset of fall. Maybe it was the Hungarian video I saw for teaching children math (don't ask). Maybe it was that simply couldn't fit one more piece of artwork onto our fridge. Whatever the case, I decided that I needed a bulletin board. A big bulletin board like schools have, where the teachers decorate it and display the children's work. With themes that work around the calendar and fun little doo-dads.

I hadn't bought a thing all year for school that was "fun", so I thought "Why not?". I know that Tom Builder when he saw the box it was in was thinking, "WHY??".


But you know what? This bulletin board has been terrific. It has added a bit of interaction this month that has been lacking. For the last two weeks we've been adding leaves to the board (parents and children), with each leaf describing something we are thankful for. It has been a neat process to see what everyone finds themselves thankful for that day. Everything from "Food", to "The Troops", to "Modern Medicine" to "Schoole" (love the irony on the last one).


This board is gigantic, which makes for a gargantuan box. What do kids love to play with? Boxes. And so, during our Thanksgiving Break, the children have used the box to sleep under as a tent. Because, that is simply the natural order of children and boxes.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

...from the most adorable doll in the house to your family this Thanksgiving Season. I mean really, do they come any cuter than this?

Lay-Low and Stitch

My blogging is all backed up. I have a blogging traffic jam going on in my head. I haven't touched on either of the children's birthdays, Hope's birth story or a zillion other little things I blog to remember.

However, it is much easier to recall things that happened yesterday than things that happened a month ago. So I'll start with yesterday and hope I can eventually make my way backward. Yesterday, was one of those days I haven't had in a long time, where I felt like the day was falling into place very well. The kids were happily engaged in their school work, Faith and I were having some sweet time together, and Hope was taking on the challenge swimmingly of being seen and not heard. I thought the day was going so well, that we would tackle a mid week shower with Jack starting first.

Thirty minutes later, after much soap and froth, the water turned off. Grace and I were working on Spanish when we heard a giant thud. One of those thuds that you know is not a typical child induced thud. While getting out of the shower, Jack had completely wiped out, breaking his fall with his chin. Surprisingly there was very little blood, but close inspection immediately revealed we would be making our first trip to the ER. While Jack was still standing in the shower, I made the mistake of saying out loud that we would need to go to the hospital. The gash was gaping, and almost a full inch long. Bubba's eyes got big as saucers upon hearing this news, and like a mouse who forgets he is trapped in a box, he wigged out, completely wiping out in the shower again.

Thankfully, Daddy could come home in time to watch the two odd children while I headed out with the evens. We'd been doing some prepping with Jack trying to be truthful about what he could expect. Both of us thinking he would have to endure a numbing shot before stitches, and I recalling just how horribly loud the reaction was to his last shot. Daddy did his best to make Jack-o feel like he had just walked through a rite of passage for all young boys, welcoming him to the "Stitch Club". Our truth with encouragement kind of worked, but Sir Bugga-Lot's big blue eyes would still well up with tears as he imagined the task ahead of him.

All I can say is Thank You LORD for modern medicine AND for Children's ERs. We had a more pleasant experience at the ER than we typically do at our pediatrician. Really remarkable. Jack and I were both relieved to hear that he would not need a numbing shot. Instead, now they have this magic jelly that after 30 minutes on the laceration, numbs it up painlessly. Seven stitches, half a movie, and one Popsicle later, we waltzed out of there. He was a well mannered champ the whole time. (And so was #4.)


I do think we will be cutting back on the free reign of soap with Sir Bugga-Lot in the future.

Got Milk?

Officially, one month old. I'm guessing there is about a 1/2 pound stored in each one of those cheeks.

Thankful Thursday

PKU Blues

I tried little girl, I really tried. I put up the biggest phone effort ever, and your Daddy can tell you that two hours of being on the phone with someone other than him, is a huge effort on my part. I talked to the government. I talked to health care officials and supervisors. I talked with lots and lots of "little guys". I tried to be super sleuth and convince the government with my evidence. I pleaded with truths. And in the end, I could not move the mountain of government for you. The laboratory supervisor couldn't convince them either. Even when the evidence showed that your PKU test was received in the lab three minutes later at the correct time.

I failed.
For a third time
I will watch over you
As white lab coats
Stick your heel
And squeeze
....And squeeze
.........And squeeze.

You'll cry.

The truth
Did not set you free.
Four millimeters of ink
Misplaced on a page.

This time
I'll cry with you.

Because, little one, Mommy has a deep desire to save you from others' mistakes. And as you get older, I'll even want to save you from your own. When you become a mother, you'll understand that it is not the pin prick that upsets me so. It's the bigger picture. I won't always be able to protect you from the mistakes of others. I can't. And there will be times in your life, when you are in the right, and it will still hurt. But I promise that I'll be there to watch over you, and spill tears with you. You'll always have my fingers to wrap a death grip around when it hurts more than words can say. Whether your three weeks old or thirty three years.

One Little Mistake

I've been on the phone for two hours with 8 different people trying to get to the bottom of one very critical mistake. I have to tell you that I have had the worst experience with incompetent nurses and lab techs after Hope's delivery. During delivery, they were wonderful, but after they wheeled me into my room, it was ridiculous.

This all revolves around that lovely PKU test that Georgia state law requires of all newborns. The one where they stick your child over and over trying to get enough blood from their heel to fill into what seems like 5 way-too-big circles when your 1 day old is screaming for mercy. The lab tech wrote Hope's time wrong on her PKU test before she was discharged. Which wouldn't be a big deal if it wasn't for the fact that this test must be done no earlier than 24 hours after the baby is born.

Hope was born at 7:35pm. The next day, she had the PKU test done at 7:40pm. The lab tech wrote down 17:40...military time for 5:40pm. Brilliant. So voila, I get a call on Thursday that says that the state has rejected her test because it was done too early. The results are fine, but they won't be accepted. This of course, was on the heels of hearing a recent story on the news about a 5 week old being removed from the home by the state and placed in foster care for a week because the parents refused to do the PKU test.

I'm waiting to talk to the Supervisor at the lab now. And my head is spinning in fury over this stupid mistake. One short line before the number seven has created complete havoc, and no one knows who I can talk to about having that one short line erased! UGHH! But God forbid, if I refuse to spend another 6 hours taking care of this issue, or having her go through the test again, and paying for it again. or lose another day of schooling the children. Because, for all I know, a police officer might be knocking on my door in five months, with orders to take Hope and have her retested. OIY!!!

Cue Ball

Her Highness had her two week appointment on Thursday. She's growing like a spring chicken on Mama's homemade grow starter milk. Hope gained two whole pounds since her last visit at a few days old. (Must be all those hormones they put in that Mama Knucker Hatch Milk these days.)


To avoid confrontation with the doctor, I lied through my teeth that baby was sleeping on her back. Do you know what she told me? "Good. Well make sure that baby gets lots of tummy time because we have been getting a lot of flat heads." Wow. What a selling point for putting your baby to bed on her back! On that high point, I'll continue to stick with my original theory that God didn't make a mistake when he opted out of stamping written instructions on each baby's belly that said, "This side up." If there is one feature we all agree on with Hope, it is that she was born with the cutest little cue ball head. I'd prefer to avoid the nickname of Helmet Hope.


Just a note: I jest lightly about head shape and helmets, but plagiocephaly can be very serious for those parents and babies who are in the middle of the issue. I don't want to get on my soap box, but in 1999, 1 in 60 babies in the USA had plagiocephaly, an increase from 1 in 300 in 1992. The increase is believed to be a direct result of the Back to Sleep program instated to increase awareness and prevent SIDS. While the program has been deemed successful, one has to wonder if, as in almost everything, moderation is the key.

Halloween on the Cheap

It seems like every year we get closer and closer to Halloween, before anyone has decided what they want to dress up like. I found myself, the day before Halloween, scheming on how to convince the children to be easy dress ups. No trips to the dreaded Wal-mart to scrounge around oversized and picked over outfits. I asked Tom Builder for a little support to encourage the kids towards my simple but wonderfully cheap and quick costumes: one mummy a la Tee-Pee, and on Tom Builder's recommendation, one sheeted ghost.


Grace went for the Mummy idea, and Jack liked the thought of being a ghost. Faith, took on the Hand-me-down costume with style, inheriting Jack's Gorilla suit. Somehow the ghost managed to escape my camera (don't they usually?), but I caught the other two before we headed out for an all out assault on the housing industry.


In about three houses, Faith had caught on very clearly as to what a doorbell ring could bring. It didn't matter how many stairs lay before that door, she would earn the prize! The candy booty in this family just got larger with the addition of a third qualified trick-or-treater. And in the tradition of my Father, there will be many "Tax Time" payouts to parents in each treaters future. I like to think of it as teaching our kids the importance of Tax Cuts.

Death Of A Delicate Flower

I knew it would happen. I just didn't imagine it would happen in THIS way. I made a true effort to rise this morning after Hope had her second feeding. It was 6:30am, and since my quiet time as of late has been out the window in the evenings, the early morning is clearly my only option. I showered. Had my morning coffee with some yummy coffee cake, and read all about Solomon during the peak of his days. Jack and Grace awoke, and we prepared breakfast. After that, I decided to get a jump on the chicken duty while the two littlest girls were still asleep.

With one foot out the back door, I knew there was trouble. Our rooster Silkie, Duke, was out. He was alone. And far from the coop. At a quick far off glance, I saw that the entire coop door was half open. NOT GOOD. With an "Oh, No.", I left Duke and headed toward the coop. It was empty. Not a single chicken. But enough feathers and tufts of feathers, to leave a tall story of what must of happened there last night.

Thankfully, I found alive chickens around the back of the barn. Hiding and clearly upset. At the looks of the coop, I thought for sure I had lost at least a few chickens. The girls were with Ernie, our alpha rooster. And he was not about to follow me into the coop at that time. So I went back out to see Duke, and see if I could coax him into going back to the coop.

Duke, was also very upset. It brought tears to my eyes, as I began to scan the scene, and realized that Daisy, our sweet Silkie girl was gone. Her feathers where everywhere, and made an obvious trail. Something had clearly gotten her. And then I heard him. For the FIRST time. Clear as day. A long sad, crow from Duke. He hasn't crowed until now. He crowed for a good while. Like a sad love song. Daisy was his lady. Since they both couldn't fly or roost, they would snuggle together at night in the corner. He was her rooster. She was his only concern. And now his life long partner was gone.

After questioning the kids, my heart sunk. Despite making the coop more predator proof than Fort Knox, I hadn't factored in human error. The chickens had gotten out of the coop yesterday, and for whatever fears, the children had purposely decided not to tell me. To my own fault, I hadn't checked in on the chickens that evening because I had been at the church. And, when Hope was finally settled at 10:30pm after a very fussy night, peeking in on the chickens was the last thing I wanted to do. Which means that the chickens probably returned to roost for the night, but they were all sitting ducks for something to waltz in and pick a dinner.

There is good news, and that is, that upon further inspection, Daisy is all we lost. We are very, VERY lucky. But we've learned more than one lesson at the expense of the sweetest chicken in the flock. The only chicken who was to be our pet.

Good bye little white Daisy...Why is it that the prettiest flowers are always the quickest to fade?

Riding Buddies

If Faith could talk, I think she might say one of her most favorite things to do with the baby is share the same car seat row. It could get a little lonely always being the one in the middle. But now she has a riding buddy. And she is frequently heard exclaiming in a smile with a point at her side, "BAHHH-BEEEE!".

Wrapping A Sack of Sugar

Two months after Faith was born, I discovered wrapping. Wrapping is simply using a long piece of cloth to wrap your child securely to your body. You can wrap your baby to the front of you or to the back in tens of ways. It is extremely comfortable and beats any kind of baby carrier by a long shot. Faith was the driving force to this discovery, as she craved a combination of being held upright while walking throughout the house - constantly. But it took me two months to find a solution to meet her needs, so I never had the delightful joy of wrapping a seven pounder onto my back and going about my day.

My first wrap jobs were so bad, they make me laugh out loud now looking at pictures of them. Thankfully, I've gotten so much better. That said, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about wrapping such a tiny nugget, but Hope has assured me, that she approves. And even though Hope is near perfect, she still has her own witching hour between 9:30 and 11:00 pm where nothing seems to work, except a close wrap and Mamma lulling her to sleep with the determined movement of finishing up chores. Just like in the womb.

This morning, in the chaos of running a household and homeschooling, I took a moment to breathe and capture our little duo. Every day I am reminded that Hope is bigger than yesterday. These days of tininess are so precious and go so quickly.

Pumpkining With Three Amigos

I have no idea why someone decided to decorate their pumpkin sale with sombreros. I never did take Spanish, so forgive me, but did I miss something in elementary school? Did the tradition of carving pumpkins originate in the remote hills of Chihuahua, Mexico?

That said, it sure did make for some festive photography around piles and piles of overpriced pumpkins, overshadowed by giant Mexican hats. Plus for as long as this kid sat down scrutinizing pumpkin candidates, he was bound to get sunburned without protection.

Maybe...there are only five degrees of separation between a pumpkin patch and a fiesta. I can vouch that there are just two degrees of separation between a pumpkin patch and an empty wallet.

Design A House Around This

Is there a place anywhere in my house where I can keep a newborn in sight, but safely out of reach from a one year old while doing the mad 4 minute dash in the shower? Behold, the marble bouncy seat - with a little less bounce and more seat. Kohler Faucets...eat your heart out.


Don't you love it when they do this in their sleep? I'm convinced these moments are little gifts from God for Mama.

Especially when Mr. Incredible keeps voicing things like, "She's still blind." or "Are you cross-eyed?" and "You've got a bit of a lazy eye don't you?". Poor girl really can't keep her eyes straight yet. But she's getting really good at grins in her sleep.

The Perfection of Pudge

It can't be happening already. Look at these cheeks! More than a week has already passed by since the birth of a human angel in our house and Hope is already fattening up.


I've caught myself on more than a few occasions wrestling with the idea of giving her the treasured first bath. Normally by this time, the bath has long since had its moment of glory. However, with Hope, I'm dwaddling. I don't want to clean her up! Bathing her would mean admitting that she's been around long enough to get dirty; conceding that time is already closing in.

With this little one, time could stand still forever and I'd be tickled. Because folks, we have our very much hoped for sweet potato! I'm beside myself in appreciation and adoration over the little package that God delivered to us. It is very possible that Hope qualifies as the easiest baby I have ever had. Her quietness in the womb had me thinking she was going to be a laid back baby, but really her perfect place in this family is stunning.

If I could have handpicked a few qualities for Number Four they would have been: a sound sleeper, a happy traveler, and smooth on the transitions. Without naming names, Number Three made sure I had paid my full dues and then some in those areas. She earned the name Princess of Wails. Revisiting that heavy of a routine again, would have been a challenge. But the Lord handpicked Hope. And lo' and behold guess what He gave me....a sound sleeper, a happy traveler and a daughter who is very smooth on the transitions. Praise God!

Guess where I was last night at 1:00 am? Sleeping. At 2 am...sleeping. At 3 am...still snoozing. 4 am and 5 am came and went with no interruptions. Finally at 6am...a peep, followed by a nursing. Only for us both to go on sawing logs until 8:30am. I rest my case. She's perfect.

Ms. TMI

Who knew that Mama had a whole 'nother set of bras? And of course, if you're going to try on bras, you might as well try on ALL of them. Being very careful to make a grand entrance fully bra clad in front of visiting church folk.

All Rise...For Her Highness Hope

Our little "Number Four" did it! Hope Evangeline arrived on the day of her choosing, October 15th. Her first little peals of arrival were heard at 7:35pm, 17 hours after we walked into Labor and Delivery. Weighing in at 7lbs 9oz, and 20 inches long, Hope is as sweet on the outside as she was hanging out with Mommy on the inside. We love her dearly already.


We promise to share her full birth story later, but couldn't leave everyone hanging much longer. She's just too cute not to share...

Labor! Labor! Labor!

I think my sweet little Hope is trying to pound her way out of here!

After many false starts throughout the week, that had me so frustrated I refused to blog about it, things took a new turn yesterday. With the morning sun and coffee, contractions began to settle in for the long haul. At first, it was the typical Braxton Hicks tightening (that had been strengthening significantly over the week), but as the day began to wane, things became slightly painful. The contractions relaxed after midnight and I was able to sleep through the night with only an occasional awareness of a contraction taking place.

By morning at church, I became distinctly aware that I no longer was experiencing any tightening in the stomach, and instead each contraction greeted me with a pure wave of pain. Dull pain. Not unbearable. Just different. By this afternoon, I got serious, and just about all of my doubts were erased. This was it. Time to pack the bags. These suckers weren't going anywhere regardless if I was walking, laying down or standing on my head. They still hurt. And that was just plain ol' exciting as I slowly grasped the realization that I just might be entering real labor. REAL LABOR! Without the Pitocin drip! Uncharted territory. :)

I was thinking I might be headed to the hospital by now, but the contractions keep playing musical chairs. I'm looking for that 5-1-1 combo (five minutes apart, 1 minute long for 1 hour). At first they were 7 minutes apart at about 30 seconds, but as the day has gone along, they've become much more painful at a minute or more in length, however now I'm out to 7 -12 minutes apart. So I could be here for awhile still.

I've got a Mommy pep rally going on for my little girl who has given me my first taste of laboring in the comforts of home. Way to go Hope! I'm so proud of you! Daddy and I can't wait to see your precious face for the first time and give you your first kisses.

Punch-It Faithy

Faith is 100% original. Apparently, she felt like we had run into a shortage of utensils for breakfast this morning. Making herself resourceful, she climbed up on to the kitchen table with a hole puncher and began systematically capturing her cereal bits with the puncher. She was so proud of herself and was thrilled that we had all noticed her mastery of fine motor skills.

Too Big For My Britches

And....here we are on October 9th. Me and Hope. Hope and Me. More specifically, Hope IN Me. On her due date. But I predicted this from the moment she was just a little bean. She will show herself to be a true blue Knucker Hatch, late out of the starting gate. My visit with the OB on Monday showed some progress in that I have gone from 0 to 50% effaced in seven days, however, I am still at just 1 cm. Overall the news is good for a woman who has accepted that she doesn't go into labor on her own. At least I can avoid the cervical prep drugs the day before hitting "The Pit".

This past weekend, I took advantage of a tradition I started with Faith - "The Pity Party Pedi". Which always turns into much more as I indulge with my last bit of quiet time for myself. And so it became the "Pity Party Pedi Mani Brow Waxy With a Haircut On Top". It was LOVELY. My last haircut? One year ago. Yeah. It was less about indulgences and more about necessities.

The toes are pretty. The nails are colorful. The brows have been magically lifted with waxing. And the mane is at least no longer splitting. But this belly is uncontainable. They don't make pants for ladies that exceed their due dates. Pregnancy pants weren't meant to fit snuggly around a planet. Overdue = Pants Problems = Mandatory 24 hour PJ lock down. Hope...come out sweetie...you're embarrassing your Mommy.

More Secure Than The Oval Office

OK. I admit, that those are my words not the words of my OB. But I'm quite sure that the White House has got nothing on security compared to MY oval office. The doc says I'm one centimeter and long. Sounds like football talk, doesn't it? But really, can you hear the sound of the Red Sea parting? No? Me neither.

The man of very few words tried to be encouraging and stated that this is when things can start to happen quickly. I tried to be sweet, and not remind him of my anything BUT sudden history listed on the chart before his nose. I continue to run my 4:00am insomnia streak, and as of yesterday, a horrid case of back pain and green snot. I'm feeling pretty disgusting right now, on top of being ill, but I remind myself about every five minutes that this is temporary.

The good news is...and there is good news I promise, that yesterday was "The Day". You know when you keep telling yourself if you can just get past such and such day it will ALL get easier. Well, yesterday was it for me. I have finished my three week run at leading our Bible Study, which takes up every spare minute of my time, and requires creating vacation days for the children's school just to prepare. But I'm done for the season. And I finally feel like I can breathe again today. And feed my family. And clean a toilet or two. So despite all of my complaints, I am beginning to feel more positive. (I know. I've got a long way to go still.)

Since I am still in sick bay around here, I'm going to usher you out of the sick and contracting room and encourage you all to visit Katy over at Treasured Chapters of Life and Family. She has a wonderfully creative post that I think just about every multi-tasking mother can identify with and should read...entitled "An Overworked Mind". Katy is one of those delightfully special friends that everyone feels like they completely don't deserve, and wouldn't trade for nothin'. If you've got a friend that's just naturally good at friendship, then you know Katy. Love ya girl.

Stuck In The Middle With Two

Really now people...what in the world is our family supposed to do about the results of Hope's "Middle Name" poll?? I am tickled we had such a great poll response, but I had no idea that we were going to have two middle name candidates so neck and neck.

I think we are going to need some more involved voter participation. And a good dose of honesty. (Not that Tom Builder and I can't make our own decisions...but the man has already suggested that maybe we should go with the name that has the lowest vote and say we wanted to be different.) So for Hope's namesake, leave us your comments as to why or why we should not go with Olivia or Evangeline as a middle name. And if you didn't go with either, send us your plea or your second choice. Be brutal. Be specific. Be biased.

Yep. Still here. And it is 4:00am again. So humor me.

And HOLD...2, 3, 4

I'm up again. But at least it is for a reasonably exciting reason. How about 6 hours of straight, uninterrupted contractions at about 5 minutes apart? Even after a good walk to the mailbox at 10:00pm and four hours of here and there shut eye. That's something! Right? They're mild 1 minute plus contractions, but they have my interest now that they don't seem to be going away. Even though I'm really, really, tired, I thought I'd see if they'd die down if I sat up and moved around for a few minutes. Because right now, they are waking me up every hour. And so the girl, blogs.

Yesterday, I nested in high gear moving and flipping couches, ironing curtains and doing my best to make the playroom feel like home in our house. Because, I KNOW that the playroom is where I will live for the next 6 months of my life. After almost 8 years of trying to squeeze into an uncomfortable wooden kiddie chair or sit on a hard floor, I finally resolved to put some adult seating in the room and bought a cheap red gingham check couch on closeout. I should have done that years ago. Then I bought some ivory curtains, hung Mom's wedding quilt up in the room, blessed the couch with the cream colored blanket Ken proposed to me on, and hung one of our anniversary gifts to each other (my all time favorite picture) of a red barn in a wheat field right before a storm. I dare say the room looks "country".

The room tells a story. From the moment I said "Yes" to my Mr. Incredible, to the day we got married, to happy anniversaries. And surrounded by those four walls, is the chewy sweet center...our children. Don't let anyone ever tell you that the kitchen is the center of your house. The sweet spot in your house is where your children gather...the play room.

Escaping Alcatraz

It is early in the morning. Too early. The random contraction induced insomnia has begun. Part of it, I'm sure is that I'm still battling some sort of mild chest cold bug, but the other part is simply being uncomfortable and waking up to "Oooo...I wonder if that little number was anything to sit up about?".

I have an embarrassing confession: I simply have never experienced the early signs of labor before beyond evenly timed Braxton Hicks contractions. After three deliveries, I still have no cotton pickin' idea what uninduced labor is like. Hope will be my forth child, and I feel so inexperienced on this front. It is a weird feeling of disconnect.

Everyone tells me that labor on Pitocin is different. I even had a man at church tell me last week in full detail (father of four) how labor with Pitocin changes the way a contraction feels. I couldn't believe my ears! Even HE seemed to know more than me. I like labor on Pitocin. It's strong and unmistakable. So while I don't get overly excited over evenly spaced out Braxton Hicks anymore, I keep wondering if that "other" labor is around the corner. Or if I've become so dismissive over the years, that I'd even recognize it if we passed each other on the street.

As has become tradition in this house, I don't pack my bags. The clothes would grow stale if I did. I don't count days down simply because it is my little one's "due date". If my babies were library books they'd all emerge with overdue fines of at least $1.80 stamped on their noggins. And I can't say I get too worked up about pulling a blonde pregnancy move and entirely forgetting about my last OB appointment. I haven't seen the doctor in over a month. I know on Monday, he's going to look at me and say I'm as locked up as Alcatraz.

But I can't deny that there always remains a hope within me that one of these pregnancies will break the Knucker Hatch mold and arrive early. Maybe "Hope" is the one. She certainly is a rather quiet one. She's been flying under the radar this whole pregnancy; a mild womb potato minding her Ps and Qs. I would be surprised if she was the one that ended up kicking down the steel uterine door on the way out. If anyone ever does, I'm ordering them a trophy.

A Shower of Blessings

Yesterday, I hit a wall. Quite simply, I just felt like crud. My allergies were bad, while hot flashes, and a scratchy throat added to the uncomfortableness of my rotunda-ness. I had to prepare for leading my Women's Bible Study over the next two hours, despite my exhaustion and overwhelming desire to lay down. All of the voices inside my head were having a lovely pity party. The voices are familiar, and I know my weaknesses reveal themselves at about this week in my pregnancy. Knowing that it is not uncommon to hit that emotional and physical wall helps, but it doesn't remove the cruddy consuming feeling.

A couple of hours before Bible Study, I received a phone message from another leader stating that our study would be delayed a bit due to the church building being sprayed with insecticides. After an emergency order of pizza (I just couldn't do the grocery shopping that day), I headed into church. Feeling a bit better on a full stomach, I waddled into the building, praying that the smell of pesticides wouldn't knock me to the floor. A few deep breathes with my super sensitive prego nose, proved I was safe from sensory overload. I was surprised that I couldn't detect any chemical smells. Rounding the corner to meet the girls, my eyes quickly fell on the stacks of bags and pink tissue paper, along with all of the Women's Group surrounding an amazing spread of food. They all shouted a sweet, "Surprise!". I had been completely duped with the insecticide set up.


When you're on your fourth little one, you expect to have walked into the "Automatic Shower Exemption" zone. Especially when you were thrown a shower just less than two years ago, by the same group of ladies. I was completely surprised. After all of my preparation for the day, we never cracked open our books to review the week's lesson. Instead, I opened blessing after blessing for my little Hope. Some of them, homemade and knitted with love, works still in progress.

While I left the church that evening still feeling sluggish and yucky, my heart was at a full swell. And I was also entirely humbled. The Lord led me to this particular group of ladies four years ago. They have had such an immeasurable impact on my life. Rather than bringing me into an inner circle of my peers, He led me to a group of beautiful women beyond their childbearing years, with decades of God and womanhood under their belt. I have been soaking up their wisdom and experiences ever since. What a privilege it has been to grow and glean from the cream of His crop.

Fasting From Groceries

Grace in the middle of her nightly prayer: "...and I pray that You would help me choose something to eat tomorrow, because we have no food left..."

Guilty as charged. Behold, my fridge's mugshot.

Who says you can't sustain a family of five on frosting, a lemon, two onions, a bag of bagels, and diet Coke? And with a stack of cheese slices, the possibilities are endless! Tonight was "Finish It Monday". In other words, dinner is what is left in the freezer: Taquitos, Fish Sticks, Tater Tots, Peas and Rice. There is nothing quite like ketchup and sour cream on the same plate - let me tell you.

Truthfully, the thought of walking down aisles of groceries, pushing one of those mammoth carts with three kids inside, followed by a pelvis that I swear is being held together by a trembling strand or two of remaining muscle, makes me want to run to the fridge for a spoon full of frosting. Really, I think we could make it just a few more days on the corn, eggs, and bagels. Did I mention the 10 stale boxes of cereal? The cereal, peanut butter and Crystal Light packets buy me at least another week.

Down For The Count

How can one man look so stinkin' cute and at the same time have a 100+ fever? After a grueling week of travel and late nights, all of the loss of sleep caught up with my Tom Builder in a matter of an hour last night. Freezing to death, the man donned his "sick-wear" garb which includes: long underwear, fleece sweatsuit, tundra Russian mafia hat (stocking cap was MIA), and a carnival assortment of blankets.


Is he not absolutely adorable? And still smiling, even after my sister (who is staying in town for the weekend) and I had a good laugh at his expense urging him on to make Russian mafia/gang signs. Tom Builder doesn't reduce to a babied ball of mush when he's sick...he's still tough as nails...but he's sure fun to love on in such an Arctic state.

Ready Or Not?

For those of you who don't see me waddling around throughout the week, you may have wondered if my one week of silence meant the early arrival of Baby Hope. If that were true, it would have radically changed my position on global warming. True global warming might be the only thing that could successfully kick my cooker into microwave gear.

Most pregnant ladies have lovely convection ovens to bake their little buns. Some ladies, are lucky enough to have state of the art microwaves. I have been blessed with grandma's indestructable stainless steel slow cooker forever stuck on the "Low" setting. {{sigh}} You can't break me. You can't rush me. I don't even know how long the light would stay lit on my slow cooker without Pitocin.

The chickens and I are having a contest. We are both due to lay our egg in the same week. It's me against twelve chickens. Cheep entertainment around here.

I have been tempted this go around to see how long I actually would go. Just to see, you know? But by about this week in the pregnancy with just three weeks left to go, the pelvis begins to shudder. I may have a uterus of steel, but the rest of me is not bionic woman material. Each evening this week has tested my tolerance of pain. Everything hurts. By 5:00 pm, whatever junk is strewn around the floor (and there is a lot of that) gets an automatic pass. All I can do is growl at it or kick it.

I whine that Mama is ready for Hope to come out now. When I see little babies nuzzled close to their mothers, I surprise myself with how much I long for those days again, holding another beautiful blessing. It is a comfort to know that I still have that deep seated desire to gather up my new little baby girl and love on her entirely. Fully. After three children, the excitement is still new and fresh.

But then I feel a sadness sweep over when I look at the little girl babbling in front of me who is still so much a baby herself. She has all of my heart right now, as she stands on the brink of so many milestones. How distracted I will be in a month. How much our "Mommy-Faith" world will change. Are we both really ready? Faith tries so hard to sit in my lap and fit. She'll lay on my belly with her blanket molding herself around her tiny sister completely oblivious to Hope's kicks of protest.

We can do this. I know we can. All of us. All six of us. Which brings me to the masterpiece I stumbled upon last week. Grace had left this picture on the counter. A picture of our family, plus another unidentified woman that I'll assume is supposed to be Grandma or Nana. I love her drawings. Notice how she identified ME. I'm the bodacious one in the middle with all of the curves! So until less than three days pass before I find my way to a shower, this will have to do for an updated belly shot...

Homeschooling Hatchlings

The most frequent question I have been receiving lately is "How is the homeschooling going?". Second only, of course, to "When are you due?". While I don't lay out our schedule for every term online, I thought it might be beneficial this week for others to see how we "do school" in the Knucker Hatch house these days. So often I feel like I am completely inadequate in explaining to others how we homeschool - especially family. The Ambleside curriculum is unlike anything I have ever encountered for grade school level children. Add to that, trying to explain Charlotte Mason's methods themselves, and I feel like I barely scratch the surface in my descriptions of our schooling routines.

All that said, and out of the way, we tackle most of our schooling when time avails and the house is in happy spirits. Translation, Ms. Faith dictates when or how much school with the older two is done during her awake hours. I know this is a very difficult time for her to understand that Mom needs to sit down with the other kids for one on one teaching time, so I don't demand too much from her on this front. As she gets older, I will expect more from her in the patience and respect arena. So often, one hour is accomplished during her awake time, and one hour is reserved for when she is taking her nap. I save more difficult subjects and games/art for Tuesdays and Thursdays when Faith attends a Mother's Morning Out program. The kids and I really enjoy this Faith-free time (sorry sweetie), as it frees me up to relax and really focus on fostering a love for learning environment.

Typically we focus on copywork, math and assisted or independent reading first. However, the children are allowed to take a break after two of the three items are accomplished. I am a huge supporter of short lessons so each subject receives approximately 15 minutes of attention.

Below is what is on tap for our current term:

Artist: Vincent Van Gogh (once a week study)
Resources:
Vincent Van Gogh Sticker Art Gallery Book (I highly recommend these books for both Van Gogh and Monet)
Two sets of Dover Stickers and wood chips used to make a memory game
Dover Postcards for picture study

Composer(s): Gustav Mahler & Anton Bruckner (2-3 times a week study)
Resources:
CD: Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 1 / Songs of a Wayfarer - Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
CD: Anton Bruckner: Symphony No 4 "Romantic"

Foreign Language: Latin America Spanish (3-5 times a week study)
Resources:
Rosetta Stone Latin America Spanish Homeschool Edition


The Queen's Grace: Ambleside Online Year 2 / 3rd Term (modified)

RESOURCES:
Poetry & Copywork: Emily Dickinson - (read one poem and 2 lines from assigned poem copied daily)
Math: Math Made Meaningful - Year 2 Workbook (daily)
Bible: Selections from Trial & Triumph, AWANA, New Testament Reading from Children's Bible
History: Selections from An Island Story, This Country of Ours
Natural History: Completion of the Burgess Book of Animals, Third Liberty Reader (independent reading)
Literature: Unabridged Version of Howard Pyle's Robin Hood (Audio CD), Lamb's Shakespeare Paraphrased Plays that include Macbeth & The Comedy of Errors, selections from Parables in Nature

Daily oral narrations of selections read or listened to is required.


Sir Bugga-Lot : Ambleside Online Year 1 / 1st Term (modified into a 5 term program)

RESOURCES:
Poetry: 3-5 Poems a week from A Child's Garden of Verses
Copywork & Phonics: Starfall Book / Starfall.com. Jack just finished his Starfall workbook, so I am in the market for a new workbook. We are currently going to be using the Walmart type workbooks.
Math: Math Made Meaningful - Year 1 Workbook (daily)
Bible: AWANA, Children's Bible reading
History: Buffalo Bill
Natural History: First Liberty Reader (independent reading)
Literature: Paddle to the Sea (counts also toward geography), James Herriot's Treasury, Just So Stories, Aesop's Fables

Daily narrations of selections required.

Yesterday I Turned Five

Because when it is your 34th birthday, the rule is you get to pick any age you want to be for that year. I decided, I would be five again. The Queen's Grace asked her mother, "Is that the law?". Of which I promptly replied, "Yes, it is sweetie."

Originally, I had decided I wanted to be nineteen again. And since Daddy had turned thirty-four this year too, the children wanted to know what age he picked...naturally the grown man picked the blessed age of retirement, sixty-five. After some thought, it seemed wise to claim another, less believable, age for myself, in case the kids went around spreading the news that their Daddy was 65 and their mother was 19.

I had a lovely birthday on Sunday, in which, I chose to do absolutely nothing. I sat on my tail, on a couch for half of the day, and it felt great. Daddy changed two messy diapers yesterday, made our dinner, and together the kids and Dad baked a fresh cake complete with sprinkles and bonfire equipment. While I sat on my duff, enjoying my new tender age of five.

Had I not been also celebrating one month left of pregnancy, I might have been a more exciting birthday girl. But since roller coasters, beautiful hikes through the wilderness, and go cart racing were out of the question, I went for the "sit on the couch and watch some long missed football" option. My Fantasy Football husband, could hardly conceal his agreement in this decision. The evening was filled with invented party games like who could keep their party horn unfurled the longest with one breath.

Just when you think getting older isn't exciting anymore, your kids and husband remind you that they still think having a birthday is pretty special. From morning till evening they plot little surprises and whisper secrets. And even when you choose not to, they count down the days for you, until your big birthday day. There is a sweetness in that love, that exceeds all of the cake and ice cream one pregnant thirty-four year old can eat.

Little Surfer Girl or Nina

I'm not sure what seems more out of place: A 1 1/2 year old surfing like a professional on the Internet, or a laptop computer at a kid table in the playroom. I caught Faithy browsing through the chicken forum, scrolling and clicking away this afternoon.


I don't normally do my Internet surfing in the playroom, but we've been trying out our first week of Latin Spanish using Rosetta Stone (we bit the bullet). The entire family has committed to learning Latin Spanish together to justify the cost of the software. Mommy and Daddy too! I'm a five years of French girl, so after three weeks of trying to stay a day ahead of the kids on Spanish for school, I threw up my hands and took the Rosetta Stone plunge. Has anyone else out there used this program successfully in their homeschooling endeavors?

The Well Visit

There are some of you out there who know that one of my least favorite things to do in life is take my kids to go see the doctor. So naturally, this Mama doesn't DO most of the "Well Visits" our clinic would love to have set up. After your second child, you begin to arrive at the realization that well visits go against all motherly instincts. Probably because after attending a "Well Visit" at least one child shortly thereafter becomes very unwell due to the germ-athon that takes place in a doctor's office. Again, I stress, this Chick doesn't do well visits.

But, I have recently discovered that there is a point where a clinic begins to refuse to treat your child for a very real illness, because you have neglected to take him or her to two years of well visits. Hmmm....maybe the John Edwards Healthcare plan is already in operation? Go figure. Things get busy in this household, and the last thing I want to do is induce illness on my children just so the clinic can check some wellness visit box off on their chart. However, I did have to face the hard earned truth that my avoidance of wellness visits has put us a tad behind on the vaccinations. So it was time to face the music. A LOT OF MUSIC.

Today was vaccination make up day at our house. It was a day for much prayer and beseeching before setting foot in the doctor's office. Determined to set off on the right foot, I set out an hour ahead of time making sure hair was brushed, teeth were sparkling, and socks matched. What I forgot to do was an underwear check. So imagine my surprise when during Sir Bugga-Lot's inspection the doctor and I both discover together that Jack has decided to go commando for the day!

But really, everyone was in great spirits, and the visit went very well considering the odds against us. Sir Bugga-Lot even had to pee in a cup that his mommy held with two sisters looking on, and he did it to perfection. Now that is tough to do!

After a two hour long visit (another reason why I hate taking three kids into a doctor's office), it was time for the dreaded shots. My poor little man had to take FIVE shots in the legs, while the Queen received 3 whammies in her tiny little arms. Never in my life have I heard the Queen scream at such astronomical decibels. With both children shrieking for mercy, the littlest Princess began to live up to her name and wailed in terror over the other two tortured souls. And I'm quite sure that if I could have done a womb check, Baby Hope was also beside herself in fear. The shrieking, OH my friends THE SHRIEKING... it was impressive.

But really, we had a great visit. The kids are a bit stiff, but otherwise survivors. Next week will I'm sure be a different story when three out of five of us will have our heads in sick buckets because we succumbed to the WELL VISIT.

New Carpet Vs. Four Dogs

On Friday, our new carpet was installed. Praise GOD! I can't even begin to tell you the difference that it has made in the house. No more mystery stains and smells in the carpet left behind by the previous owners who lived with an indoor zoo. No more hee-bee-jee-bee feelings. We are finally over the hump of disaster and on our way to moving in completion. It feels good, not to mention super squishy soft on the toes.

With just over a month left to go before Baby Hope arrives, Tom Builder has discovered that I will move heaven and earth (or king sized mattresses) singlehandedly with or without his help to finish the job indoors. I will not be stopped. Unless it comes to rebuilding the closets, and then I am admittedly at his mercy. But I can make the grand announcement that nobody is sleeping on the floor anymore. After five months, The Queen's Grace and Sir Bugga-lot have their bunk beds and can say Adieu to sleeping with mattresses on the floor.

That's the good news in the cleanliness department. The bad news, is for ten days we have inherited three additional doggies. They're good girls, but included in the bunch is a live wire puppy on a course of destruction through our house while my brother and his good wife are on a Carribean cruise. I'm beginning to realize how good we had it when Maggie, our beloved now in doggie heaven Golden Retriever was a puppy. Since Saturday, Ms. Sadie the Bloodhound puppy has sought out and destroyed:

1 Pacifier
3 Markers
1 Red Uniball Pen (which of course exploded all over the hardwood floors)
3 Strips of weather stripping for the doors
3 Stuffed animals (with stuffing carried throughout the house)
2 Wooden Beads
1 Window Screen
1 Baby Gate
1 Bowl of Mini Wheats

And that is only a short list of things that were left behind with a remnant for evidence. I can't imagine what foreign objects lie within the bowels of this canine...

We're on Day 4 or 5 of the trip. I ALMOST put them all in the outdoor shed after the Red Uniball explosion as that was the result of a third escape from the sunroom at 6:00 am. The escape was accomplished by pulling at the weather stripping underneath two closed doors, which then pulled the doors open and released the hound to do her bloody red business...so to speak. Her life would have been extinguished if she had decided to carry the ball point pen over to the freshly carpeted side of the house.

The first escape took place sometime during the morning hours of Sunday, when all three dogs busted through a window screen, and then busted a hole through a baby gated deck. Dogs are much harder than kids. I don't know how my sister-in-law does it. But I can tell you that 4 dogs, plus 3 kids, plus toys and homeschooling supplies strewn around the house is a disaster from the get go. You just can't win with that formula.

Here Comes Rubble

"It felt so good to have a day off today."

This coming from Mr. Incredible after nine hours behind either a sledge hammer, rototiller or a Bobcat. I am learning, that what my husband really wants to do in his free time is be a twenty first century gladiator. To destroy, or build, that is the question. I'm also learning he is really good at doing both.

Tom Builder has a full week with a rented Bobcat. What this guy can do with a Bobcat in thirty minutes is a wonder. On Wednesday evening, on my way to drop the kids off at AWANA, I drove between two gaudy fortress-like structures that buttress either side of our entrance to the property. Tom Builder and I have always disliked these things as they scream with their white stucco and lion topped heads "Welcome to the Fortress. Don't touch anything." We wanted our property to have a more inviting feel that matched our family's personality and said something more along the lines of "Welcome to our Home. Take a load off and stay awhile." Upon my quick return, I was greeted with "The Fall of Rome"...


The picture above was taken a day later, when most of the stucco and concrete had been transported by Bobcat to the second entrance to the property that goes down to the barn. Tom Builder's plan is to lay all of this rubble down on the farm road, crush it, and then pile pea gravel on top of it. Meanwhile, he spent the rest of the day yesterday, smoothing out the entrance with dirt so that he can start laying pallets and pallets of sod at the entrance today. Did I mention we are also getting our new carpet today?? Did I mention that we could be watching up to 4 additional dogs for a week beginning tomorrow? The next few days are going to be CRAZY!

But as long as Tom Builder has a smile on his face, and is so loopy about driving a Bobcat that he can act goofy with his hat...it is all worth it.

Free Ranging The Chooks

I was trying to stay away from another chicken post, but after I wasted a blog day and didn't post, I figured what's the harm in using a wasted day and posting a few more chicken pictures in its non-existent place? The girls and roo are getting really plump and fancy. Lately, I've taken my chances since we are not even close to building a chicken tractor, and I've let them soak up the shade and sun ungaurded. It is clear that chickens were never meant to be cooped up, as they all pile up at the door clucking in jubilee and hysterics when they know they are going to get outside time. The barnyard looks much more lively and festive with colorful chickens scratching it up.

Most of the girls have names including: Sandy, Alice, Penny, Ms. Delaware, Ginger, Leopard Head or Fuzzy, Zebra, and Scooter. The Silkies still don't have a name that sticks, but I'm quite fond of naming the female "Daisy" and the rooster "Duke". Our barn cat has a new favorite place to lay out: on top of the screened in ceiling of the chicken coop. She's also unfortunately discovered a new extreme sport, and has been caught on one occasion hunting down giant chickens. Our faithful dog, Hatch, has also been quick to get involved in the X Games scaring the absolute tar out of cats who chase down beloved chickens. The whole crew had us rolling in the dirt in laughter this week.

The silkie chickens are looking more and more each day like their distant cousin Elvis. "Duke" The Rooster is growing his wattles and comb, and starting to play more the part of a man, keeping a strong eye out for anything that resembles a hawk in flight (big birds, helicopters and airplanes). So far, "Duke" is a mute.

"Daisy" is our most delicate flower. She's always the last to get anywhere, more than shy and skittish. This, of course has me worried, as it is clear she would be the first to be nabbed by any lurking danger. Especially when she can barely see through her growing coif of feathers, But she is gorgeous. (If you can say that about a chicken.)

Missing: One Rolodex Thingy

As promised, each week I will be sharing with you a portion of how the Knucker Hatch household runs. Last week, I revealed our laundry management system that falls on every Monday. Tuesdays, are reserved for bathroom duty. But after cleaning SIX toilets today, the last thing I feel like doing tonight is blogging about the worst chore ever invented. I'll save my blogging about bathroom routines for a day other than the dreaded bathroom day. So this Tuesday, I'll give you a glimpse into how I try, (and I do stress try) to keep things organized. More specifically, how I manage keeping track of the daily outside activities and appointments for a busy family.

Does anybody else out there have a mother that keeps one calendar on a wall somewhere, but honestly that is just for back-up, because she has an unbelievable Rolodex in her head? When I was growing up, my mother amazed me with her ability to rattle off everyone's birthday. I can remember thinking, that when I grew up, I would one day get one of those Rolodex thingys in my head. Sadly, I never received the Rolodex thingy. I'm horrible with five very important and basic things in life: names, birthdays, phone numbers, anniversaries, and anything that requires RSVPing.

I'll give you one example that will immediately make you understand how much I stink at this side of life management:

I have a cell phone. I couldn't tell you to save my life my cell phone number.
On a really bad day, I will hesitate before I can tell you the full birthdate of one of my children.

I learned a long time ago, that to keep up with the Rolodex Mom's in this world, I would need to write it all down. In essence, I don't think I have ever departed from the required "Assignment Notebook" all of us as teenagers carried around in junior high and high school. It is tempting to go all electronic with my information management, of which I partially do, however, I need to have a hard copy at my finger tips. Leaving notes on a wall calendar in my kitchen doesn't help the helpless. I need it to be portable. As a result, almost every year I have used a bound monthly calendar to stay organized.


Last year, I stumbled upon a wonderful calendar/organizer created specifically for mothers with children by a company called MomAgenda. In addition to the monthly calendar in the front, each week is laid out with space for myself plus individual spaces for four children. I use different colored happy face stickers to identify each child's weekly row. There's even a space for dinner plans. I have enjoyed the classy feel of this calendar, and it's many, many extras that are included. It is the only bound calendar I have found that allows me to manage my entire family's numerous outings and activities. Last week, I purchased my second refill for the Pink Executive Portfolio Tom Builder surprised me with last year. (MomAgenda calendars are 17 month day planners beginning in August.)

This is my Rolodex ladies. This is the only reason I know what pregnancy week I am in. It allows me to write it down, and permits me then to let go and forget it. My only responsibility is to check it every day, BEFORE my day begins. So how do you survive the day to day grind? Are you a mental Rolodex Mama, or do you use another method to keep life organized?