I think we need more bookshelves...

Everywhere I look I am overwhelmed with piles of books. To the point that I am paralyzed from doing anything about them.
This is our home right now:
(make that, this is our first floor, as I haven't even attempted to tackle the books upstairs)

This is or piano.  Or, Sean's piles of books. With room for a dictionary down below. 

But wait, there's more... below the dictionary another pile of books!

And this was the pile of already-read books removed from the piano last week. 

 

Which was instantly replaced by another series graciously gifted to Sean by a good friend who noticed our piles of books last weekend and decided we needed more.  (picture of Sis with her great grandmother just a bonus). 

Even the baby has her stash. 

Make that stash-es. 

This is our laundry room.  What?

Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see? I see Constitutional Law looking at me....

Poor Jamesie doesn't even get any surface space for his books.  

This is Sean's on-going reading pile.  3 bookmarks in 3 different novels.  Not to be confused with the piano pile, which is on-going series, but books he has not yet started from each series. 

This is why I am drowning in a sea of book-piles:  

The other day I said, Sean, you are reading so much!  To which he answered, "Mom!  That's because I am a lover of books!" 

Colors of Ireland (Other than Green)

Ireland is such an enchanting place-- there are layers and layers of history, culture, beauty and nonsensical quirkiness to unfold and discovery every moment.  It is a passionate country, and you never quite know what will speak to you until you're standing on the soil, living the dream.  This time around the colors of the buildings captured my attention for some reason.  Who thinks of these color schemes (and meticulously maintains them)?...because so many of the townsfolk seem like elderly men (and women) dressed in tweed (or faded floral-print cotton dresses).  Not the type you would imagine to pick hot pink for their storefront.  But, who knows.  The Irish are a whimsical people.  So, if you ever need inspiration for a bold paint job, here it is: 

Even on deserted, wild islands you can find a bit of flair.  

We went to Ireland....

A few weeks ago we claimed a year and a half old present from Cody's parents and we went to Ireland.  The country...in Europe.  It was one of those trips that was so amazing and wonderful, its too overwhelming to wade through all the pictures and experiences, and you feel like if you actually do so, you might cheapen the real experience somehow.  I'll try to get over that feeling and document our trip.  It WAS amazing.  And wonderful.  And I was a ball of crying nerves before we left the kids with Cody's capable parents.  As soon as our trip started though I could feel how much we needed it.  Married seven years, five of them with kids, we had one or two nights away here and there, but never any really significant amount of time to just BE together.  To not only forgot schedules, but be so far removed from them that you stop feeling schedules. There was no 1:00 p.m. drop dead naptime (oh, there were plenty of naps, but they didn't have to be at 1:00 p.m.), we didn't have to be back from dinner by 7.  In fact, we didn't even have to be back from a kids-free dinner at any reasonable hour in order to get up with the kids at 6:30 the next morning.  Gasp.  We could.....stay....out.  Late.  There was no one but our B&B proprietors to demand our attention in the morning. And that was just to feed us breakfast.  And, in our seven years gone from Ireland (we went on our honeymoon), technology has changed so much that we skyped and FaceTimed with the kids about every other day.  And guess what-- they really did not seem to miss our presence in their house.  GG bought them chocolate milk.  They went to Chic-fil-a, they went to the park and got special snacks.  It was fun.

This post will definitely not have all of our pictures--I have to start small (in fact, reviewing the pictures I just chose, this is such a random smattering with no logical connections or coherence).  But I will leave this by encouraging any young married couple, laden with small children, who think watching Jeopardy together at night counts as enough alone time throughout the week--- GO.  Go and spend time with your spouse.  Go somewhere where there will be no squabbling about who is making dinner and who is doing the dishes.  There are no baths and stories and prayers to fit into an insanely short amount of time.  Go somewhere you can't turn on the TV and somewhere you can go to church and think.  Where you can eat ice cream before dinner and not worry about anyone seeing you, and buy gummy bears and eat them anytime you want without anyone begging for one.  Then have a beer or two and stay out late.  It is so worth it.

Kinsale

Old Head.  

Probably our favorite bar in the world, which was also featured on the cover of one of our favorite books, by the same name (McCarthy's Bar).  We visited on our honeymoon and came back to the very tiny town of Castletownbere this time around too.  

Inside the bar-- we played scrabble while the owner fed a large dog scraps from the grocery-store part of the bar.  The dog was not hers.  It belonged to a frazzled looking woman who's 4 year old son Oscar ran wild in the streets outside.  

There was a beautiful beach, and there were people in the water.  I was wearing a coat and long sleeves.  Several people told us this was their first real summer in a few years.  It did not get above 70 degrees (F) while we were there.  

Castletownbere at dusk.  Beautiful!

On the Aran Islands.

On Dursey Island after taking a cable car built 60 years ago over the sea.  More pics of that experience later.  

Our hostess on the Aran Island (actually, our hostess's mother whom we ran into) took this picture of us.  When we told her we have three kids (everyone was interested in their names and ages), she gasped and said "3!  Oh my, I thought you were a young couple a-courtin'!"   After a week alone-together in our favorite place, that's what we felt like too :).  

And for good measure, I saw selkies on the Great Blasket Island.  

Jamesie's First Day!

After Labor Day Jamesie conquered a huge milestone-- his first day of (pre) school!  Jamesie is going to the school Sean went to for the last two years-- the school with all the work and the playground Jamesie has silently coveted for the last two years.  Now it's all his.....mwha hahahahaha!

His first day went great.  Sean went off to school early (7:15), which left over an hour before it was time to take Jamesie to school.  He spent that hour with shoes and socks on, his lunch bag slung over his shoulder like a satchel to create his "back pack," walking around the house saying "I ready to go now!....I ready for mine...." I could only tell him "not yet, a little while longer" so many times, so I started stalling by changing the baby, looking for my keys, getting him some milk, etc etc.  We finally departed for school and arrived only 5 minutes before the doors opened, so it was a mild success. 

Jamesie did AMAZING upon separation.  Jamesie-No-Cry is his Indian name when he does something brave without crying, like going under the water, falling down or going to pre-school.  Was he ever Jamesie-No-Cry.  He was definitely shy and nervous, but I was so proud of him for pulling it together and choosing to go into the classroom and sit down with the other children.  When I picked him up three hours later, he was sweaty as can be (a good sign of vigorous playing) and reported "my head hot."  When I asked if he made any new friends he said yes, and listed his teacher.  I'm not too concerned since we know most of the families in the class. 

"I three!  I go to school!"

Jamesie and Tay-tee (his word for "Sissy," which she now responds to as much as her real name).

She was so tickled to be part of the boys' going-to-school pictures! And they are both the most loving, inclusive big brothers ever made.

"I have mine pack-pack, I ready to go now!"

School.  Moment of truth....should I stay or should I go?  Should I cry or should I play?  The Youngster chose wisely.  Horse bag gave good counsel, as usual.

 

Part of the Montessori method is to have kids of different ages (3-6) in the same classroom so the Bigs can teach the Littles.  I try to give our guys a lot of freedom in choosing their own activities around here, like in a Montessori classroom, and clearly some of the method has worn off.  Look how I found Mrs. Baby as soon as the big boys were out of the picture.....

I will sit at my desk....

and do a little drawing.  Just like those Big Boys who live here. 

Perhaps I'll write a sonnet while I'm at it.  An Ode to Brothers, whom I miss. 

First Day of Kindergarten

We've had an amazing summer...so much so it called for a hiatus from blog-writing, or being anywhere near a computer for long amounts of time.  But alas, all good things must come to end (Cody and I have one more summer adventure before we settle back into real life), and with all great endings come another great beginning.  Today we embarked on a new beginning for our little family: full time public school.  Cody and I have spent many many hours debating all of our schooling options for Sean (including long pro-con lists, logic tables and emotional late-night conversations at the kitchen table)--homeschooling, Catholic school, public school, charter school-- and at the end of the day we decided the best route for our whole family this year is the excellent charter (public) school at the end of our street.  We have met so many families at our pool who go to the same school that it really fulfills this vision of a neighborhood school.  Today, which happens to be my birthday, we sent our baby off to his first day of full-day kindergarten (by the way, whatever happened to half-day kindergarten?  I would have jumped at the opportunity to only send him half a day-- anywhere!).  Our baby is SO big.  It's so trite-- but he was just a baby.  When did he become a KID?

Bruddahs. 

When did this happen?

LOVE the over-sized back pack.  Full of his pencil box (with mini-notebook, colored pencils and glue sticks), a folder, his lunch, his snack and his current chapter book, Ramona the Brave.  

Happy Birthday to me.  Now give us your first born.  

Total miniature. 

The night before my birthday, 9 years ago, Cody and I held hands for the first time.  It feels like yesterday.

Where did all these children come from!? 

We were all smiles until the moment came when we had to separate.  Then the silent tears.  And square-mouth.

Nothing a little pep talk from Daddy can't fix (and your classmates staring at you).

2 minutes later he calmly walked into the classroom with his caring and kind teacher.  

And about 4 minutes later he was up singing songs and dancing with his class.  Is it me, or is Sean a mammoth-child?  His height is even more remarkable when you think he's probably the youngest one in there, having just turned 5.  I guess all the other boys in the class chose their red uniform shirt ("for Lightning McQueen") today too.  

We are back home now, and Jamesie and I already miss Seannie's presence in our home this morning (Sis would too, but she's napping).  The lack of squabbling and bickering is nice, but we miss our playmate.  I just can't play cars with Jamesie like a 5 year old boy can.  I feel a little emptiness in my heart as I wait for the next 8 hours to tick by.  So I'm filling it with leftover birthday french toast and other carbs.  That makes it  a little better.  

Are these the good old days?

Lately when I'm around friends pregnant with their first I think back to my first pregnancy and think-- those were the days. If I was exhausted, I'd go take a nap. If I was still tired, I'd sleep in the next day. No schedules to coordinate, no children inevitably waking up at 6:30, no matter how late their parents got to bed.  Then my thoughts wander to when I had "just one," who napped all the time, slept twelve hours like a champ, and who would happily be handed off to dad after the early morning feeding for a slothful mom to turnover and go back to sleep.  Fast forward to three children not yet school age and long days at home together.  I've gone from no caffeine back to (minimum) two cups of joe in the morning and back on diet coke in the afternoon (yuck).  Our baby mostly sleeps through the night, but on nights she doesn't I'm grumpy, mean and dramatic to anyone who crosses my path the next day. Mealtimes are like an exercise in seeing how long the children can keep me out of my seat-- getting milk, water, cinnamon for the apple slices, another spoon, cleaning up a spill, finding another napkin, finally getting food other than Cheerios in the baby's mouth, just in time to get seconds for everyone, then if I'm lucky I'll remember to eat a few slices of cheese for my lunch (and the diet coke). Some days I exclusively eat cereal until dinner time. 

Then we went out to dinner with two couples the other night who have 5 and 6 kids, respectively.  They were lamenting the middle-school drama of their eldest.  Then I read a blogpost from a woman who has six kids about how it was so easy when she had four.  It made made think-- will I look back on these days, when I had "only three" as the good old days-- back when I was well-rested? (Frightening!).  But the reality is-- my three are awesome.  They are good sleepers for the most part. They all "rest" for the same hour in the afternoon, with another hour of me quietly reading and cuddling Sean by himself.  On my more dramatic days I can go lay down during naptime.  My kids love each other and their biggest fights are over who gets to hold the baby next.  Sis is an "angel baby" according to the Baby Whisperer. Sean has started getting dressed by himself in the morning (today it's Hawaiian shorts, a long sleeve Furman shirt and Thomas socks). Jamesie is mostly making it to the potty. And, this time in our lives is almost over. Sean starts school in a few short months and that's this beginning of letting my babies go. These are the good times. I get to cuddle and pet and kiss them whenever I want. There are days it's physically exhausting, but there are just as many days sitting on the family room floor with books and Legos and k'nex for hours at a time.  

And one more anecdote to prove these are the good times-- last night as I was approaching 5 straight days without folding any laundry and our arm chairs were starting to become a clean-clothes avalanche threat I mused that I just needed someone to come into our house and "jump start" our laundry situation-- then my housekeeping skills would also be jump started. Just now as I brought the baby up for her morning nap I noticed (for the first time, as I think my eyes were still closed as I fumbled downstairs for breakfast (which was already made for me)) a huge laundry basket of clean, folded clothes at the top of the stairs. I looked at the laundry-chairs, I mean arm chairs-- they were empty. My amazing, well-rested husband spent his early morning folding laundry while I slept after being up with the baby.  These are the good old days, with "just three" great kids, built in nap times, a helpful and doting husband and a softer than soft baby to pet in the middle of the night.  Lord, let me live in these good days, and not just remember to remember them later!