Thankful for . . .

Helen's spunk . . .





Joseph's quirky sense of humor . . .





Charlie's passion . . .





Will's sweet determination . . .





A husband who makes me laugh . . .




My children's relationship with each other . . .





And the craziness of being a family of six . . .

Also football (Joe), the world (Charlie), the word "NO!!" (Will), and ketchup and pink undies (Helen).

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Wordless Wednesday

Two words that instill fear into me

Cort is out of town and I'm facing navigating the evening alone with all four kids.  Charlie, Joseph, and I go to pick Will and Helen up from school.  And there it is, in all caps, on the daily report sheet we get from Helen's teacher:

NO NAP!!

She held it together for at least half the trip home.  The 5-minute trip home.

Charlie's goals

Charlie came home from school with a paper listing his "goles" for the year.  The first one was:   

PUtSPASeisiNBetwINGMYWerDS

It appears that he set his goals wisely.

The word's out on baby happy hour

During his writing workshop time in kindergarten, Charlie’s class was asked to write about a fall Friday. Charlie wrote:

On fall Friday Charlie & Joseph & Will & Helen & Cort and Amy and a lot of or [our] frinds go to happy hour at Cates house, Luke Motgumry [Montgomery] Sam house ther [their] twins, or our house.

We are expecting a run on baby happy hour next week.

Tracer Maddux, 1994-2009

The longest relationship in our family came to an end yesterday. Cort got Tracer as a college graduation present--to himself--over fifteen years ago. They've been together two years longer than Cort and I have known each other. In fact, I'm pretty sure that Cort used Tracer to win me over some thirteen years ago. I thought Cort was cute, sure, but his dog was awesome.

Tracer was a black labrador retriever.  Emphasis on "retriever."  He didn't just fetch, he retrieved.  Going to get the bumper (stick, ball, whatever) and bringing it back was not just his way of having fun, it was important stuff.  His life's work.  In his youth--and well out of it--he simply loved retrieving.  He could follow commands and do blind retrieves.  He would retrieve until we had to stop him for fear he would pass out.

He was also clearly part human, and I swear he understood English. He was strong and beautiful, but with a sensitive side.  In fact, so much so that he tended to pee involuntary if a harsh word was ever spoken to him.  He almost never disobeyed.  He rarely got on the furniture, he did not sleep in our bed, and we could leave food on the coffee table for hours and he wouldn't touch it.  (Except for bread.  He had a weakness for bread.  He ate almost seven loaves at my parents' house while they were picking us up at the airport from our honeymoon.  It was home baked.  I guess he couldn't resist.)

He was our first child, and he was treated like it.  Notice the picture above?  Yes, he had more professional pictures taken than our younger children have had.  We took him everywhere we could, and he was a great companion. Although he hated Maddie, our other dog, when we first got her, eventually it was Trace--not us--who trained her.  She simply learned to follow his lead. 

But fifteen and a half is old for a lab. The last couple of years, he has been a shell of his former self. He had always been such a perfect dog, so we thought he might just give out, and save us a hard decision. But it wasn't to be. We both knew it was time for awhile now. Monday night Cort gave him a bath, we both spent a little time with him, and then Tuesday Cort took him in.  He was fifteen years, seven months, and thirteen days old.

We have many wonderful memories with this amazing dog. I remember him mostly as the dog in the pictures below. I hope he is enjoying the wide open spaces above, and I hope the sticks are plentiful for retrieving in heaven.

Although he was Cort's dog, in many ways he was a momma's boy at heart

The picture of pure comfort

After a rough start, he loved playing with Maddie for many years.  Although they no longer played together, we're sure she will miss him too.

No stick was ever too big to retrieve

The familiar look of anticipation

I used to love it when they retrieved something together

Happy at home

Like any lab, he loved the water too

Snuggling up

The Election

After getting a haircut this morning, Joe got to pick out a lollipop. The candidates were lemon, watermelon, banana, strawberry, and cherry.

After voting, strawberry and banana were in a runoff.

Banana won the runoff.

Four under . . .

When Will and Helen were born, we had four kids under the age of four. Pretty impressive, huh? That's the type of thing that physically can't be done when you only have one kid at a time. When people heard we had four kids under four, they were duly impressed. Saying that you have four kids, and that the oldest one(s) just turned 3, automatically takes you to Superparent status, just by virtue of the fact that you did it and survived.

Then a year passed, then another. Now we have four children under the age of . . . six. It just doesn't have the same ring to it. Sure, it's more than most people. But other people--even people who have one kid at a time--do it. And here's the kicker, as they all get older, it all gets harder. But you don't get as much credit for it.

Then the other day I read an article written by an allegedly "busy mom." She explained that she had four children under the age of twelve. Seriously? How many of those kids can bathe themselves, dress themselves, tie their own shoes, and wipe their own butts? I'm betting she's got a majority, at least, for all of the above. I have a majority for none.

I know that four older kids with different activities makes for a busy life. And I'm sure I'll be there soon enough and will be lamenting how hard it is. But really, "busy" does not describe our lives right now. "Complete and utter chaos" is the only thing that comes close.

So Cort and I decided something the other day, after another crazy, chaotic evening. It's still pretty impressive that we have four kids within a span of three years and two months. And that we have kept some semblance of sanity. So, we are going with the Superparent title after all, whether anyone else thinks so or not.

So there.

Makes my Monday

A few years ago, not just one, but two, sets of relatives gave us these personalized CDs of kids songs. (Thanks, Gransan, Grandad, Aunt Luisa, and Uncle Al--I'm sure you've all but forgotten these, but we haven't!) The CDs have mediocre singers singing these cheesy kids songs that randomly slip your child's name into them. ("Let's pretend . . . JOSEPH!/Let's pretend and play make believe/Let's pretend . . . JOSEPH!/You can be anything you want to be!) The songs are a big hit. But like most kids music, it is an-noy-ing to listen to them over. and over. and over.

So after years, we have finally managed to get the boys to move on. They now prefer artists like Jerry Jeff Walker, Charlie Robison, Jimmy Buffett, and Bruce Springsteen.

But now it's Helen and Will who love the personalized songs. So we're back to where we started.

Still, it's sweet to hear Will repeating the songs from his bedroom before we get him up in the mornings, inserting his favorite family member of the moment.

Hel-en, I think you're spe-cial!

I hope you know you're loved in every way.

Hel-en! I think you're spe-cial!

Your smile can really brighten up my day.

He also thinks Daddy, Mommy, Charlie, and Joe Joe are special. So these long-lasting CDs -- as annoying as they are -- make my Monday.

Happy Halloween!

We just finished up a nice Halloween evening, and the kids are finally in bed after staying up late in a (likely unsuccessful) attempt to get them to sleep in to at least the regular wake-up time tomorrow after we "fall back" tonight.

Charlie has wanted to be a hockey player for two years now, so this year I was able to find a uniform--Edmonton Oilers, the only choice--and that's what he was. Cort supplemented my uniform purchase with some cool gloves and a hockey stick, and Charlie got a lot of oohs and ahs from the guys at the Halloween party we went to this afternoon. He looked pretty cool, I have to say.

Joe decided he wanted to be a boxer, and he looked great too. He had the boxing gloves, the headgear, and even the taped up shoes. We thought he was going to be a scrawny boxer, but once he got dressed up he looked pretty authentic. Definitely a featherweight, but authentic.

And since I was afraid this might be the last year that I could dictate Will and Helen's costumes, I did so. And they were A B S O L U T E L Y A D O R A B L E as . . .

Raggedy Ann and Andy!! They really were cute, and except for some initial reluctance on the part of Raggedy Andy, they both loved the costumes and the entire evening.

We did only a little bit of trick-or-treating--a visit to both the boys' teachers and then a trip around the block. After that, we hung out on our front porch and handed out candy. Honestly, everyone enjoys that just as much, if not more. Charlie was our official candy-hander-outer, along with Uncle Rick (who came in town for the weekend, and we loved seeing him!). Joseph was our official people spotter (he would alert us whether it was one person or a group, and if they were scary) and candy-bowl-filler-upper. Will and Helen were mostly our official candy eaters, but if the stream of trick-or-treaters waned, they would both ask for "More people! More people!!" By 9pm we had handed out all of the candy we had bought and most of the candy the kids had collected, so we called it a night.

Hope everyone else had a great Halloween too!

The aforementioned "initial reluctance" on the part of Raggedy Andy

Helen and Joe trick-or-treating at a neighbor's house

The Maddux kiddos doing the neighborhood

Helen enjoying some of her loot

Charlie handing out goodies

Will and Helen enjoyed themselves and the candy

The successful evening can be seen on his face!