It's freaking hot here, for New England that is. Mid 90s and humid. And we have no central air, for the first time in 5 years. It's fine, but an adjustment. We have a few window units to offer partial relief, but we might have killed each other if we stayed in close quarters much longer. So out to dinner we went.
We're walking into Chili's when my sweet daughter leans over and says this. "Mom, I forgot to put on underwear." Said while wearing a dress. Perfect. I guess I will have to re-title my last post and make it plural, The Nudists.
Dinner was good, typical. And by that I mean Jackson drank two cups of milk before his dinner even arrived, multiple trips to the bathroom and walks around the lobby and even outside on the sidewalk. A couple sat next to us with one baby in a bucket seat. How easy those days with one were...another lifetime to me. Eventually we left dinner, and began our search for a red toy car that had gone missing during the walk outside. The hunt produced nothing, causing me to find that damn car in my bag, next to my keys. Of course.
It's still too hot and early to return home, so off to Lowe's we went. Josh was in the bathroom and I had the kids helping me get polyurethane. By the way, how many freaking kinds of that are there? Too many I say. Ryan's climbing out of the family cart while Jackson's scaling up the side of it. Then Caroline giggles and I turn to see her lifting her dress, proving to the world that she indeed forgot her underwear, while doing a little shimmy. WTF?! A quick reprimand gets her back in order, and thankfully nobody was in the aisle with us.
The rest of the Lowe's excursion included Ryan climbing cement sheet rock stuff, piles of 2x4s and grabbing hammers. Oh, and lots of running in the opposite direction we desired. Making me look like the expert parent I am clearly. One father drove his family cart by me with one little girl in tow, sitting properly - giving my scenario the raised eyebrow. Well sir, you have no idea how easy you have it. Another father drove his family cart by me with two kids in tow. He replied to my "sorry, you know how it is" with a simple, "yes, yes I do." I love these moments of solidarity among us Blessed Chaos parents.
As I am in line to check out with my screws, polyurethane, and 5 2x4s sticking out of the family cart Josh says "hey Annie, here's a bench that's probably less expensive than the one you are going to make us." I told him my bench is going to be amazing and he's going to like it. Josh left chasing the kids in the opposite direction as I checked out. A nice guy who had witnessed our blessed chaos got in line behind me and asked where my family was. I told him I gave the kids away.
Blessed Chaos indeed.
The Kids
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
The nudist
I know we can't be the only family with kids who shed clothes at any occasion. A few of you assure me that I am not alone. But it's so regular that I find one of my children, usually Jackson, streaking that our 9-year-old neighbor declared "your kids are naked a lot." Yes little girl, yes they are.
Am I to blame for this? I'm not saying I run around the place naked. But when they were babies and toddlers I used to give them a few minutes of naked time after bath. You know, to let them breathe - living in a diaper must be so uncomfortable. (Sidebar. I'm not looking forward to returning to that stage when elderly) I think they fell in love with it. And now, well. Now it appears hopeless.
Easter we hosted 15 people, a feast and all that entails. Twice Jackson was seen streaking, butt ass naked throughout the sea of people.
It's not unheard of to find Ryan or Jackson riding their motorized Dora The Explorer Jeep while naked. Oh, and in the FRONT yard. Remember now, we lived in the Church owned parsonage. Awesome.
The nudity thing is so entrenched with our children that it inspired one of my only two Gray Family Rules. You must wear underwear when we have company. In case you're wondering, the second family rule is no head shots, when wrestling or rough-housing.
Here's a little gem for you. The story of how I learned Jackson, then 20-months-old or something, could open doors. I felt a draft in my kitchen, rounded the corner to see the door to the garage wide open. Then I notice the garage door itself had been opened and there was Jackson, one-and-a-half standing with just a shirt on at the end of our driveway. In the drizzling 50 degree weather at 5pm, waving to the cars driving by on their way home from work. And yes, he had let our dog Fred out.
Guess I shouldn't be surprised that neighbors didn't bat an eye at it. The week before I had found Caroline and Jackson in their bedroom window mooning and "sunshining" (Josh's term for flashing the front side I guess) the world.
So to the 9-year-old neighbor, yes, they are naked a lot.
Am I to blame for this? I'm not saying I run around the place naked. But when they were babies and toddlers I used to give them a few minutes of naked time after bath. You know, to let them breathe - living in a diaper must be so uncomfortable. (Sidebar. I'm not looking forward to returning to that stage when elderly) I think they fell in love with it. And now, well. Now it appears hopeless.
Easter we hosted 15 people, a feast and all that entails. Twice Jackson was seen streaking, butt ass naked throughout the sea of people.
It's not unheard of to find Ryan or Jackson riding their motorized Dora The Explorer Jeep while naked. Oh, and in the FRONT yard. Remember now, we lived in the Church owned parsonage. Awesome.
The nudity thing is so entrenched with our children that it inspired one of my only two Gray Family Rules. You must wear underwear when we have company. In case you're wondering, the second family rule is no head shots, when wrestling or rough-housing.
Here's a little gem for you. The story of how I learned Jackson, then 20-months-old or something, could open doors. I felt a draft in my kitchen, rounded the corner to see the door to the garage wide open. Then I notice the garage door itself had been opened and there was Jackson, one-and-a-half standing with just a shirt on at the end of our driveway. In the drizzling 50 degree weather at 5pm, waving to the cars driving by on their way home from work. And yes, he had let our dog Fred out.
Guess I shouldn't be surprised that neighbors didn't bat an eye at it. The week before I had found Caroline and Jackson in their bedroom window mooning and "sunshining" (Josh's term for flashing the front side I guess) the world.
So to the 9-year-old neighbor, yes, they are naked a lot.
This is not 7th Heaven.
About a decade ago, maybe more?, there was a crappy TV show called 7th Heaven. They had a billion kids, the mom was named Annie, and the dad was a minister. Eerily similar to our story. But, we are not the edited CW version. Instead, we are the "shoot, my kid's outside naked again" version.
Josh is a Congregational minister at a wonderful church in the Boston suburbs. We are blessed to live in a beautiful town, have great family and friends, etc. I am a social worker. Translation for those of you who pretend to know what that actually means is, I am a licensed mental health therapist. For the last six months I have been a stay-at-home mom, and love every minutes of it. What a blessing that is for me.
5-and-a-half years ago God blessed us with a healthy, compassionate girl Caroline. Less than 2 years later Jackson graced our family, followed by Ryan less than 2 years after Jackson. A surprise to all, God blessed us immensely with a beautiful soul, Ethan, who was born when Ryan was just 11 months old. Ethan was born too early, unexpectedly, and for no known reason. Medically no answers were available. The specialists said it was "shit luck." He lived for four days in the NICU before he returned to the arms of Jesus.
When I walk around town, or grocery shop, just live my life really, people often ask "are they all yours? Or are you a daycare?" Not that three is an outrageous number of children to tote around, but seeing me pregnant while doing it was a shock for most during Ethan's pregnancy. Also, Jackson and Ryan are giants, so people often mistake the kids for being similar ages. Hence the daycare comment I think.
The antics of our day-to-day grind raise laughter and eyebrows alike. I'd have it no other way, for we are living life. Our life of Blessed Chaos.
This is a little space for me to share our blessings and our chaos. Chime in with your own versions of both in the comments if you like. It's healthy for me to "talk" with other adults so I don't end up asking my poor husband if he needs to go potty, or did he wash his hands?, when he comes home at night. Hasn't happened yet, but it's a real possibility.
Josh is a Congregational minister at a wonderful church in the Boston suburbs. We are blessed to live in a beautiful town, have great family and friends, etc. I am a social worker. Translation for those of you who pretend to know what that actually means is, I am a licensed mental health therapist. For the last six months I have been a stay-at-home mom, and love every minutes of it. What a blessing that is for me.
5-and-a-half years ago God blessed us with a healthy, compassionate girl Caroline. Less than 2 years later Jackson graced our family, followed by Ryan less than 2 years after Jackson. A surprise to all, God blessed us immensely with a beautiful soul, Ethan, who was born when Ryan was just 11 months old. Ethan was born too early, unexpectedly, and for no known reason. Medically no answers were available. The specialists said it was "shit luck." He lived for four days in the NICU before he returned to the arms of Jesus.
When I walk around town, or grocery shop, just live my life really, people often ask "are they all yours? Or are you a daycare?" Not that three is an outrageous number of children to tote around, but seeing me pregnant while doing it was a shock for most during Ethan's pregnancy. Also, Jackson and Ryan are giants, so people often mistake the kids for being similar ages. Hence the daycare comment I think.
The antics of our day-to-day grind raise laughter and eyebrows alike. I'd have it no other way, for we are living life. Our life of Blessed Chaos.
This is a little space for me to share our blessings and our chaos. Chime in with your own versions of both in the comments if you like. It's healthy for me to "talk" with other adults so I don't end up asking my poor husband if he needs to go potty, or did he wash his hands?, when he comes home at night. Hasn't happened yet, but it's a real possibility.
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