Despite not having one single brain cell left to write a profound (or even coherent) thought, I decided to join in at Conversion Diary for 7 Quick Takes. Summer is so fun with no schedule, no structure, and all 9 kids home. But we have no schedule, no structure, and all 9 kids at home! 🙂
Today I will chronicle how summer vacation works at our house. It is not about library reading programs, accelerated math problems, cooking gourmet healthy meals, or lazing around our nonexistent pool. Summer with 9 kids is about survival.
Are all the kids alive at the end of the day? Success.
Our 4th of July started out super amazing. Grandma Margie took Erica and Kelsey to “work” (aka be cheap slave labor) at the fireworks stand she and Grandpa Randy help run. Two less kids + kids earning $$ = success.
To top it off, Grandma Cynti offered to take Drake, Blaise, Joel, and Britta home with her to spend time on the family farm, go fishing, and watch fireworks. Success again.
Well, at least until Britta decided to ram a bicycle handlebar into her head and rip off the bottom part of her earlobe. One frantic run to the ER + an amazing plastic surgeon + a super brave 8-year-old = lots of stiches and a normal looking ear.
We topped off our 4th of July weekend by picking up kids and shooting off fireworks. The RN in me hates fireworks, but the kids had fun and no one got hurt. Once again, it’s all about survival.
The babies ended up with hand, foot, and mouth disease, which is a rite of passage for babies and toddlers. It’s not serious, but makes them feel terrible. Three sick babies + no sleep for Mama = survival mode.
Poor little Heath was so miserable. As he thrashed around, pretending to sleep in bed with us, he arched and almost crashed himself head first onto our floor. I managed to catch him by one ankle before he fell outta bed. That boy’s Guardian Angel works overtime.
Brooks is 10 months old and learning to walk. He loves pushing the pushy toy thingie around, but now prefers to turn it over and climb over it. Get ready, Guardian Angel….
I’m still tired from Drake’s late baseball game on Wednesday. Super proud of his team—they made the playoffs! I love this picture of Drake batting and his proud daddy coaching first base:
Here is baby Brooks at the beginning of the 8:15 p.m. game….
And here he is at the end, close to midnight!
Yesterday, the kids were peacefully watching the Lego movie for the 27,000th time, when all H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks broke loose. Screaming. Name calling. Shrieking. Crying.
Daddy came running out of his “office” (a tiny niche in our bedroom) to see if someone had been fatally attacked.
Nope, Heath (age 2) had coughed. Britta thought he was choking and dying, so she slapped him HARD on his nekked back—so hard it left red marks. Kelsey started yelling, “Stop it, moron!” Blaise was screaming at everyone, Britta was in tears. Heath was crying in pain, and baby Brooks started sympathy crying.
I told Daddy everything was fine. Everyone was alive.
Today I found scissors in the bathroom and a zillion miniscule cut up pieces of toilet paper all over the bathroom. Why? Just why?
I also found Maren with a plastic bag on her head, and I did what all good parents would do—took a picture of her WHILE I told her to never put plastic bags on her head.
Maren survived, thank you Jesus!
To survive all this, Mike and I had a wonderful all day date. It was so wonderful I will make a huge blog post about it when I get a chance.
We rested at the foot of the Sacred Heart of Jesus….
And topped off our day with a little wine. Summer is all about surviving the fun!
Sacred Heart of Jesus, pray for us!