Hurricane Irene spares us - sighs of relief as storm passes with little damage

The "little beach" we left behind before Irene hit

It's hard to believe that just yesterday, Hurricane Irene was bearing down upon us with driving wind and torrential rain.  It's also hard to believe that although there is devastation all around us, we have been spared.  The trees didn't fall, our basement didn't flood and we didn't lose power. 

While my husband and I breathed a huge sigh of relief as Irene blew out to take her fury further north, our little ones were a bit disappointed.


For starters, they couldn't understand why we had to bail out on our last summer weekend on the Cape.  I was a bit reluctant to head home myself.  Saturday was hazy, hot and humid and we spent the morning on the beach, soaking up the last of summer's rays before heading home ahead of the storm.  Explaining the perils of a pending hurricane is a fool's errand when you have a minivan full of tired tots who'd rather be building sand castles.  


As the sky darkened and the guy on the radio spoke of the storm's impact further south, our kids seemed to get the gist of it.  While our minivan barreled south on 95 toward New York, they seemed to slowly start to understand what was coming.  We spoke of the subway shutting down, of windows boarded up and of the potential loss of power.  It was the loss of power that really caught their interest.  They were intrigued by the notion of living by candlelight and we had a lively conversation about what we might eat if we had no power for a few days... peanut butter and jelly, cereal with milk (as long as the milk lasted), and raisins topped their list.


We also had a neat little chat about what it meant to "hunker down". According to dictionary.com, to "hunker down" is to squat on one's heels; to hide, hide out or take shelter.  This notion was especially intriguing to them as we discussed the possibility of all hunkering down and sleeping together in our living room... Mom and Dad would get the pull out couch, Liam and Ciara would snuggle in their sleeping bags and Kevin, Declan and Cormac could camp out in their pack & plays.  We would eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches by candlelight, perhaps while singing songs and telling stories.


Now, if that's not an idealized view of hurricane preparation, I don't know what is.  It's really a blessing to see the world (including natural disasters!) through the eyes of a child... or, in my case, five of them.  It's also a blessing that Hurricane Irene was kind to us.  And, for all those who are suffering the after-effects, I wish them the best and hope they might find some sort of a silver lining... something our kids are always prone to see.

A missing tooth, a missing Tooth Fairy and Tooth Fairy extortion

Liam in simpler times, after the loss of tooth #1

The tooth fairy has officially visited our home five times.  Our six-year-old has officially lost six teeth.  As you may have noticed, there is a discrepancy here.  As far as I can tell, the issue was the loss of tooth #5.

I can’t recall where or when it fell out and neither can Liam, the aforementioned gap-toothed six year old.  The fact he can’t even remember the details of this little tooth makes me feel a bit better about my own vague recollection. I do recall that when it came out, it eventually ended up in a little “treasure chest” – one of those little hand-painted projects which, for some reason, ended up on top of our entertainment center (yep, we still have one of those!) several weeks back.  That’s when my mind goes blank.

Fast forward to this morning, when I got home from walking our dog to find a pouty gap-toothed Liam sulking on the front porch.  “What’s wrong?” I asked.  “Daddy moved my pillow last night and the tooth fairy never came!”  Hmmm.  I had to think quickly on this one.  Had tooth #7 fallen out last night?  Did I have amnesia?  What exactly happened and how could I respond glibly while keeping his faith in that apparently dim-witted fairy? 

A career in advertising has left me relatively quick on my feet, good with a retort and polished in the arts of ambiguity and empathy, which I can conjure up as needed.  Without dissing the tooth fairy or the Dad, I was able to discern that at some point last night, Liam found that treasure chest with tooth #5; it had slipped behind the TV and was discovered during a search for a Tom & Jerry video (yes, we do let our kids watch them and if you haven’t seen Tom or Jerry in a while, I’d highly suggest that you revisit them!). 

Like any other 2^nd grade believer, Liam assumed the tooth fairy must have radar and would intuitively know when a small boy places a toothy treasure under his pillow.  With this in mind, Liam had slid the treasure box under the pillow without uttering a word about it to me or the Dad.  When he woke up this morning and found the tooth and treasure chest under his bed, he reached the reasonable conclusion that when Dad did the final late night tuck-in, he must have knocked the treasure chest under the bed, thereby sending the tooth fairy off course.

This was a lot to take in so early in the morning but, grateful for the large cup of coffee I'd consumed, I explained that Liam was right.  Of course the tooth fairy’s radar doesn’t work under little boys beds; it is only effective under pillows!  That answer seemed satisfactory and so it is that tonight, tooth #5 (and the fairy!) will be getting a second chance.  Having reviewed the contents of my own treasure chest of Liam's teeth (yep, I save them... gross, right?), I came across this little gem from a few months ago.  I can't help but think that his initial excitment upon discovering that the absent tooth fairy finally reappeared might be dramatically diminished when he realizes she only left $2.00...

Tooth Fairy Extortion!

Summer vacation with five kids - what this Mom learned

We just got back from a week on Cape Cod,MA.  A lovely, sunny, laid back, relaxing week where we did little more than hit the beach and then hit our beds shortly thereafter.

Now it's back to reality.  Before dinnertime on day one, I had unpacked everything, done about five loads of laundry and reorganized the basement; the basement wasn't on the agenda for the day but, since I spent so much time down there with the laundry, I couldn't stand tripping over the bins of hand-me-downs and had to do something about it.  As I reached the height of my organizational frenzy, my six year old, Liam, wandered down and asked me to play with him.  When I said I was busy, he whined "But Mom, why don't you ever play with me at home?!"  Which made me realize that I learned a lot over the course of our week away and first day home.

1. My kids like to play with me.  And I like to play with them too.  And I really need to do it more often, not just when we're on vacation.  While we were away, I made sand castles, went on walks (without my phone!), and totally tuned in to the five tots that I'm too often tuning out.  It's so easy to use the "busy" excuse but it's amazing how appreciative they are when I slow down, pay attention and really focus on these amazing little people we're so blessed to have.  There was one night when Ciara just wanted me to sit and snuggle and watch Peter Pan.  And I did.  And she was thrilled.

And so was I.  Let's face it, pretty much any kid activity (sand castles, coloring, bubbles, reading, you name it) is going to be more fun that whatever usually keeps me so busy (laundry, dishes, frantic organizing, email, etc!).  That's why I am going to try harder to actually play with my kids -- and ideally, do so with undivided attention as I keep my phone and email at bay!

2. I need at least eight hours of sleep. While we were away we were routinely in bed by ten or eleven o'clock and slept until the first tot toddled in -- usually between 7:30 and 8:30.  That's a LOT more sleep than the five or six hours I typically get and I have to say, I think I was more pleasant as result!  Of course, the blue skies, beautiful beaches and call of the ocean always perk me up but, I can honestly say that I drank less coffee, awoke less cranky and felt a whole lot better with a few extra hours of shut-eye.  I'm not quite sure how I'm going to maintain the eight-hour average as the responsibilities of home and work kick back into high gear but I'm going to try

3. I like my husband.  A lot.  In fact, back in the day, I might have said that I "like him, like him."  These days, we too often go through the motions, the perfunctory "I love you" muttered before we roll over and sack out, exhausted from the constant action here in the Lyons Den.  Vacation was, and always is, a great reminder that this guy I too often bombard with "to-dos" and "why didn't yous" is a great guy.  A guy I once swooned over and thought "this will be the father of my children."  A guy who is a great dad, who always knows the value of playtime and who has always encouraged me to get more sleep.  This is a guy worth listening to more often, who deserves more of my undivided attention and who proved once again while we were away that we make a great team.

It's not easy to load up five kids for a six hour ride or to load up three pack and plays and the rest of our gear but, it's well worth it.  I learned more about my kids, my husband and myself in a week away than I ever would at home.  Just a simple break in the routine is all takes to bring us all closer together.  I'm going try hard to hold onto this loving feeling but know it's likely to fade, as it always does when the stress of our daily lives inevitably mounts.  When it does, I'm going to reread this post, take a look at this picture and remind myself of just how lucky I am.

Diner time - end of highchairs signals the end of an era for a mom of five

We recently crossed a significant milestone.  The three highchairs that have been cluttering our kitchen for two years have officially been kicked to the curb; two of them, in fact were literally put on the curb because they were beyond redemption with the stench and stains of caked on mac and cheese and mushed grapes and who knows what else.  The third chair is now tucked away in our basement, patiently awaiting visits from the offspring of my sister and cousins, all of whom now have tykes tinier than mine.

Saying so long to these kitchen mainstays leaves me with mixed emotions.  On the one hand, I appreciate our newly streamlined and less cluttered living area. I'm impressed that Kevin, Declan and Cormac will sit in chairs and more often than not, stay there through the course of a meal. On the other hand, I'm having some emotional angst.  Saying so long to high chairs is part of saying good bye, once more, to our baby days.

I've survived other small rites of passage with less emotional fallout.  I was thrilled when they traded the bottle for the sippy cup. While I lamented the loss of the snuggle time that accompanies breast or bottle feeding, I was glad to no longer face the dilemma of how to snuggle and juggle three babies at once. I was fine when we traded up from those bucket car seats to the "big boy" car seats -- especially since making three trips in and out of the car with the combined weight of tots plus seats was no easy task.  I will admit I was bummed out the day the wheels literally fell off their triplet stroller but, it really was getting tough for me to push almost a hundred pounds of kid and stroller up the steep hills where we live so, we put that stroller on the curb and never looked back.

No more bottles, no more baby seats, no more strollers and now, no more high chairs. All reminders that there are no more babies for me; that part of my life is now over. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't looking to add another "cub" to our already full "Lyons Den" however, I'm struck by the finality of crossing these seemingly minor milestones. 

In the midst of our busy days and sleepless nights, I've crossed a threshold; my reproductive years are now officially behind me.  Rather than bemoan this rite of passage, I suppose I should just be grateful for how remarkably "productive" those years really were and how blessed we are to have all these healthy, happy kids.  Kids that now drink from cups, climb into the car themselves, trot down the street and up the hill and sit at the dining room table.  Now, if I only had a table with seven chairs, I'd be all set!