Oh, the long-suffering...

Renie: I'm stinky.
Me: Well, we'd better change your diaper th...Oh no.
This is the part where I remembered I had left her diaperless in an attempt to get this potty train moving. So I peeked in her pants, cursing myself for not putting some underwear on her at least. (When I dressed her this morning she kept saying, "My pants are in my butt!") I laid her on the floor and pulled down her pants with great trepidation. She was smeared with poop from bellybutton to toes, with the largest chunk clinging to her knee. She was stiffly holding that knee away from her body and begging, "Wipe it off my leg Mom." Anyway, I got her wiped up and into the bath and returned to the scene of the crime to clean up. It was then that I noticed the chunk of poop on the stairs. And then another further down, and further. I followed a turd trail all the way to the TV in the basement. So I've been picking up poop nuggets and scrubbing the carpet. Luckily the messy ones were sticky enough to cling to her body and pants and not just drop out the bottom. Being a Mom is so glamorous.
*Note to self- CLEAN UNDER YOUR FINGERNAILS

Makin' whoopee..........pies

Spring Holiday, and other ways to spend a weekend...

Lincoln called me from work on Friday at around noon to tell me that he would be home at one. Lands End is trying a new summer schedule, releasing employees at one o'clock every other Friday. This is an effort on their part to help establish a healthy work/life balance. He also informed me that he would, indeed, be ACTUALLY leaving at that time because they had been told that staying would not earn them any brownie points, it would instead be frowned upon. I was absolutely thrilled about this development, almost as thrilled as the employees. Word on the street is that they may make it EVERY Friday next summer if it seems to be working out. So at 1:02 my husband walked in the door. It was one of those, what do we do now? moments. But more like, wow, the possibilities are endless. So Lincoln took Devon fishing while Jesse slept and Renie and I prepared food for Saturday. Lincoln and Devon, armed with new lures Lincoln wanted to try, headed to the Wisconsin River to find a good hole. Renie and I made macaroni salad, devilled eggs, whoopee pies, and set the chicken to marinating. The girls arrived home from school at 3:30, followed by Lincoln and Devon around 4. The boys came home pretty excited because they had caught 5 small mouth bass, the last one being the biggest Lincoln had ever caught. They would have stayed longer if not for the swarms of mosquitoes along the riverbank. (Note: they did not keep any of the fish because I don't clean, cook, or eat fish. Lincoln probably would have been the only one that would eat it.) Since it was still pretty early, Kennedy and I decided to go for a bike ride together on the Military Ridge Trail. The Military Ridge is an old railroad bed that has been torn up and filled in, creating a smooth, level biking path. It runs 40 miles from Dodgeville to Madison. Since I just got my bike, we hadn't ridden on it yet. We parked at the trail head and unloaded our bikes, not really sure of what we would find. We were very happy to discover that the trail runs pleasantly along the countryside with trees arcing overhead with dappled sunlight splashing through. It runs along the road for a while and then turns away into pastureland. We passed cows and farmers plowing fields. The scent of apple blossoms was heavy in the air and violets dotted the roadside. We looked out over the rolling green hills and dreamed about how fun it would be to ride a horse over the hills and down into the hidden valleys. We enjoyed one an other's company and the glory of the beautiful day. I think we rode close to 10 miles, round trip. It was one of those hours I will freeze in my memory as a perfect moment with one of my children. We returned home to find dinner ready- our usual Friday night fare, take-n-bake pizza from Walmart. A very lovely day indeed.
Saturday morning Lincoln and Kennedy went fishing.


They didn't have much luck and returned around 8:30 a little disappointed, but happy they had gone. At 8:45 we had an egg hunt. For those of you who are not aware of our family's tradition, let me fill you in. When my parents joined the church, they learned about keeping the Sabbath holy. (This wasn't news to them, but the importance of it and actual practice was.) They reflected on it and decided that hunting for Easter eggs and doing other fun activities didn't really work with the Sabbath. So they invented their own holiday. Easter was set aside for going to church and reflecting on the death, resurrection and atonement of Jesus Christ. Spring Holiday was set up as a day to celebrate the arrival of spring. Tradition was that we celebrated it the first Saturday that all the snow was off the ground and we knew there wouldn't be anymore that season. Growing up in northern NY, this usually meant it took place in May. Having lived the past 6 years in NC, we were able to do it the Saturday after Easter every year. (The Saturday AFTER so we can purchase clearance Easter candy. ) Easter, as you know, was very early this year so it's been a couple months. My kids are not accustomed to waiting this long, but they survived it. So we had our egg hunt at 8:45, got everyone hopped up on sugar, and then went to the girls' soccer game at 10.






After the soccer game we loaded everyone up and drove to Governor Dodge State Park for a picnic. We brought along kites, a plastic bat and ball, badminton rackets and birdies and other outdoor toys, including mine and Kennedy's bikes. We had a lovely picnic by the lake, playing in the sunshine and dandelions.


We stopped at the playground in the park and we walked by the dam and waterfall below the lake.







We saw a sign posted on one of the trails noting that the trail met with the Military Ridge Trail in 2.2 miles. We determined that Kennedy and I would bike to the trail and then to the trail head and Lincoln and the little ones would pick us up there. The trail from Governor Dodge was paved but VERY hilly. I'm talking long, steep hills. Hard enough for me with a brand new bike with lots of gears, grueling for Kennedy on her freebie bike with inefficient brakes. I was very proud of her. She was close to tears after the first big hill- even walking our bikes up it was tiring- but she sucked it up and persevered. There is a portion of the trail that actually runs on the shoulder of a main road. This was hot and sunny, and steep uphill. We were very happy to see the point where the trail met the Military Ridge. At that point we still had 2.5 miles to go, but this was level and pleasant as I described before. This time we saw a huge bunny on the trail and lots of butterflies. We were so excited and grateful to see Lincoln and the kids beckoning to us from the end of the trail as we approached, everyone talking at once about what had happened while we were apart. Another wonderful parenting moment- seeing my child tackle something difficult and rise to the challenge, without complaint or giving up. I guess that's all I can hope for. That we can teach our kids that life is not always smooth and level. There will be hot sun and steep grueling hills. But they have it in them to conquer the hills- even if they sometimes have to get off the bike and push it-, to overcome the adversity and reap the blessings that come as a result. Blessings of seeing that they can do whatever they set their minds to and blessings of being together as a family forever when we've set our minds toward the Lord.
The perfect end to the day was a Mommy-daughter date with Julia, with this glorious sunset as we drove home.

Bedknobs and Broomsticks...

Renie has always been a terrific sleeper. She's been pretty cooperative about going to bed in her own bed, content with her blanket and a pacifier, and sleeping through the night. Alas, this has all changed of late. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she now shares a bedroom with her sisters. I don't know, but I'm getting sick of her appearing in my room at 1, 3, or 6 in the morning. "I want you Mom." She has me worn down to the point that I often am so tired and sleeping so soundly now that I don't even realize she's climbed in until her rustling around and around and around finally pulls me out of my dead-to-the-world slumber. I am constantly amazed how the interruption can make me so exhausted the next day. How in the world did I survive the round the clock effort of 5 newborn babies? I can't hack a 10 minute interruption now? I've been at this for close to 9 years now. I've had a little baby for most of that time. Shouldn't I be adjusted? Or is this the culmination of all those years and my body is on the verge of self-destructing? I'm not sure which it is- but would it be wrong to make her sleep in a cage? With all the luxuries, of course. A bed. A blanket. A pillow.
In other domestic news, I bought a new broom. My husband needed to sweep the garage so he took my kitchen broom and used it. Upon discovering this I said, "Why are you using that broom? It's my kitchen broom." He informed me, "No. It's the garage broom. Now." So I had to buy a broom. Imagine my excitement when there, hanging in the cleaning aisle, looking like just an ordinary kitchen broom, was a broom with a handy scuff-remover built right in! This wasn't exactly what I was looking for, not quite what my needs required, but I thought, "Certainly if They have this marvel of modern technology, this scuff-remover broom, they MUST have a broom with a six-months-of-built-up-crud-remover! Surely it's here if I dig deep enough. Behind the mops, perhaps." (This could have been entirely possible because I don't mop. It is the most loathsome housekeeping chore in the world. I avoid it as long as I possibly can, breaking down only when our feet are sticking to the floor or I have company coming. So I don't shop in the mop section much. It takes me years to wear one out.) It was not meant to be however. Somebody else bought the last one apparently. But I'll keep checking, 'cause sister, that's what I need.

Dandelions and lilacs...

We had a very pleasant weekend here at the Tatro homestead. Saturday morning Lincoln got up bright and early to go fishing at Governor Dodge State Park. Now, I slept through most of that and had no part in it, but it makes me happy that he went because i know it makes him happy. I'm definitely more whiny about the injustice of having no time to myself. He gets Lincoln-time so rarely and yet never complains about it. Plus he has been wanting to explore new and old hobbies and develop his talents more, so it's good to see him reconnecting with himself.
After fishing and breakfast and the usual Saturday morning fight about room cleaning, we went to the girls' soccer game. We were running a little bit late, if you can believe that, so we pulled up and told the girls to run down to the field while we parked and got the little ones unloaded. By the time we got down to the field the coaches had the girls already on the field and Julia was in tears. Considering all the anxiety she's had about playing in the games, I was a bit irritated that they hadn't been more sensitive to her concerns. Of course I was being a bit of a mother hen and had my feathers all ruffled and pulled her off the field. Taking the analogy a step further, she literally buried her head up in my jacket under my wings. Now we were faced with a decision. Make good on our promise that she could sit out of the games, or push her to do it because we were so sure she would end up having fun. Being the lying, tough love parents we are, we pushed her to go out and play. About 20 minutes into it she finally went out on the field. And you know what? Parents really do know what's best. She ended up having a good time.


I was so proud of my girls. I know it's only their first game and I'm ridiculously pathetic, but I couldn't help but have visions of them playing varsity soccer together in 10 years. I could just hear the comments: Those Tatro girls are a force to be reckoned with! The Tatro Sisters are unstoppable! I need my 2 best defenders on the Tatro girls! Anyway, they really got in there and did their thing. They each scored a goal and Kennedy seems to have a natural ability for defense. She was slide tackling left and right. Lincoln and I were cheering and yelling and shouting advice and then it hit me. I said to him, "Are we THOSE parents?" His reply, "I think we are." It was lots of fun and I'm looking forward to next week's game.


After soccer we spent the day doing yard work- pulling weeds, raking grass, mowing lawns, spreading fresh mulch, edging- and didn't quit til bedtime. We did take a break to go out to dinner together. The girls were really helpful and it was fun to spend the day working as a family.
Sunday morning as we drove to church, I was engrossed in flower-watching as we drove. Sunday morning flower-watching is a habit learned from my father. In the springtime he had every flower bed between our home and church memorized. We would watch to see who had new daffodils up and whose tulips blossomed first. Yesterday i saw long stretches with no blooms but dandelions to look at. Dandelions are fun and sunny and closely wrapped around my youth. (Ever play Mama had a baby and its head popped off? Kind of morbid in retrospect, but innocent enough at the time.) I was thinking about dandelions and that as a kid they represented the approaching summer break. When the grounds around the school were speckled with them, we knew the end was drawing near. That triggered another memory of the last few weeks of school. I remember the teachers throwing open the windows in May and June and the scent of the lilac blossoms outside the window flooding the classroom. Oh how I itched to be outside picking dandelions and lilacs! For the past six years living in the south I didn't see lilac bushes. I hadn't even thought about lilac bushes in several years. But Sunday morning the place in my mind and heart where lilac bushes have been dwelling was thrown open and the memories around them came spilling out. I thought of the lilac bushes in our backyard growing up. They were actually technically the neighbor's, i think. But they grew right on the line. I remember picking them and Mom always saying something about picking Mrs. Proper's lilacs. The Propers were patient and long-suffering folks. But that's another post altogether. Another favorite pastime of my father's was to take us out for a drive to look for cellars where homes of our ancestors had once stood. This usually involved a drive down a dirt road and some tramping around in mosquito-infested woods as Dad said, "It should be right around here, I think." Don't misunderstand, I loved these adventures. What does it have to do with lilacs? Dad taught us clues to look for when searching for cellars. There would usually be big old maple trees in a row that had once lined the front yard of the house, and there were quite often lilac bushes growing immediately around the foundation. Being an old-fashioned bush, they often had been planted close to the house, probably near a window. Decades later, the house was gone and the lilac bushes would be taking over. And so, Sunday morning, with these thoughts in my head, I was excited when we got into town to see lilac bushes all over the place with buds on them. I can't wait to see them next Sunday on the way to church. I'm hoping some will be in bloom and I'll be able to open the car window and fill my lungs with their memory-drenched scent.

Mother's Day

This is my mother when she was in kindergarten. Every Mother's Day I think about how I could possibly ever express to my mother my gratitude for her love and service. If you know my mother you already know what an amazing woman she is. She can do anything she puts her mind to- electrical wiring, tearing apart her washing machine and fixing it, building potato guns, biking across Iceland, raising six kids- and all of that is reason enough to admire her. But what I'm at a loss to express is Mom's essence, who she is.
The word that comes to my mind repeatedly is steadfast. Mom knows where she is heading. There isn't much second-guessing going on. She knows what is right and what is wrong and she makes her choices accordingly. This was a bit frustrating as teen because when I saw gray, Mom only saw black and white. This did,however, ultimately make her the ideal moral compass. I could always look at a situation and judge it by Mom's standards, thereby determining what I should do.
I don't remember being spanked by my mom, I was more fearful of disappointing her. A look and a firm word were all that it took when I was a small child. When I hit my tween years, I remember how my relationship with my mother became strained. I felt like Dad got me but Mom didn't. Enter my years of Daddy's-little-girlhood. This stretched into my teen years. Despite our distanced relationship, my awe of my mother never wavered. What I exhibited on the outside did not reflect my true feelings and opinion of my mother.
I always felt my mother was remarkably laid back. She would allow us kids to roam the woods for hours. She didn't pack us off to the doctor at the first sign of a cold or even surface wounds. There was no smothering hovering parenting going on. But an event in my teens changed my relationship with my mother again. I had been out way too late and came home to angry parents. I didn't see the big deal about it. I knew what I had been doing, why couldn't they trust me and back off? Not yet being a parent, I didn't realize that there were a lot more people factoring into the equation that my parents did NOT trust. The next day my dad, who I was more responsive to at that stage, took the opportunity to talk to me and entreated me to be more respectful of my mother. He said, "When you are out late your mother doesn't sleep. She sits up worrying about you until you are home." Ok, call me an oblivious teen, but this was a revelation to me. I had no idea she worried. My mother? Worried? How could it be? At this point my Mom and I began to understand each other again. I am happy to say that our relationship has just continued to blossom and grow from there to the adult mother-daughter relationship we have today. Up there close behind my husband she stands as one of my best friends. She has helped me through the birth of my own children and took over all my responsibilities in my home while I laid in bed with my DVT. I talk to her frequently on the phone and seek her opinion about decisions in my life. I am so grateful to have her in my life and in the lives of my children. I hope that I can be half as good a mother as she has been. She taught me confidence and empowerment. Because of her example I felt there was nothing I couldn't do. I hope I can teach my children the same and teach them how to choose right in the face of tempting wrong. I love you Mom, thank you for all you've done and continue to do.

Here I am with my little charges today. I look at my beautiful children and the magnitude of my calling to rear them in the ways of the Lord seems overwhelming. But I love them with my whole soul and I am grateful I have been entrusted with their sweet spirits. Hopefully I don't screw them up.

Passing of the torch...

For several years in my family, Lincoln and I were the only couple contributing grand babies. My oldest sister had two kids and then got divorced, ending her baby producing years early. My oldest brother and his wife had a daughter, then suffered years of infertility. My other older brother seemed entirely uninterested in having children. My younger sister has down syndrome and my younger brother was just not at that point in his life yet.
Then, two years ago, my oldest brother adopted a two-year old boy. He came into the family and swept everyone off their feet with his big brown eyes and sweet disposition.


We are so lucky to have him in our family, so lucky his mom decided finally to make a good choice and recognize her inability to give him a secure, loving home. Just like that- a boy cousin that's Devon's age!
Within a couple months of M's arrival, my younger brother and his wife announced that they were expecting their first child. Their son was born six weeks before Jesse.



And now, a little over a year later, my brother Derek has just become a first-time Dad. Turns out, apparently, that being with the right woman makes all the difference in your desire to have children. So once again our family is blessed with the addition of a beautiful baby boy.


I am so happy for them. You can't explain the joy and wonder of being a parent to anyone. It is simply something that must be experienced. I hear it in his voice when I talk to him on the phone and I see it in his eyes when I see pictures of them. I can hardly wait to meet the baby and I must confess that pictures of him make me baby hungry. Don't worry, however, it really is time for us to pass the torch. I'm just glad that Jonathan and Derek are ready to take over now and add some more babies to the mix because I'll miss having a baby around.



In other news, the girls have started soccer. It's actually been a month since they started but the games keep getting rained out. Last night they had practice. It was team photo day so they wore their jerseys. As you may recall from a post a couple months ago, Julia has been very reluctant to play. She doesn't like to do things with people watching. We worked out an agreement with her that she didn't have to play in the games if she didn't want to, but we wanted her to participate in practice. This wasn't really working either. She would go to practice and just sit out, telling her coach she didn't feel well. Last week she didn't practice, just sat. Last night she pitched quite a fit about having to go. She didn't WANT to play soccer. She WANTED to stay home. WHY did she HAVE to go? After much weeping and wailing and plenty of gnashing of teeth she went, in uniform and in cleats and shin guards and everything. I know it's pathetic, but it made me so happy to see my girls suited up in soccer duds!


Oh how I loved playing soccer! And as it turns out, Julia actually participated and LOVED it. She came home so excited! She pulled us outside to watch her kick the ball around and she slept in her uniform last night. (I know, gross, right? But she's only 6.)



We'll see if this actually helps her get over her fear of games. I think that may take another practice or two.

And one last thing- did you notice how green it is here? I haven't published a shot of the great outdoors since spring was in full swing.

Ways to waste my time...

Am I the only one who is obsessed with looking at real estate online? Seriously, it doesn't matter if it's millions of dollars or $20,000, a loft or a big old Victorian. I just like to look at houses. I mean, as soon as we buy a new house I take a break from unpacking to sit online and look at more houses. Haven't I had enough? My husband thinks I should become a real estate agent and put my obsession to work. It's really not a bad idea- but I'm still busy with babies so I'll wait a little longer. Any time Lincoln has sent a resume to any company I immediately got online to check out the real estate market in that area. My current real estate obsession is acreage. Anything that has enough room for a couple horses, a big garden, maybe a cow, that's what I'm looking at. I've been feeling such a pull toward The Land lately. Maybe it's the economic climate, maybe it's our move last year to a more rural area. Either way, I'm yearning for space. I hate going out on my deck and knowing that thirty homes ( at least) can see me. Everyone knows when I'm outside, they know when I'm looking for one of my kids, they know if I'm picking up dog poop, for crying out loud. (Actually, I never pick up dog poop, but if I did...) So I need some space. I know this sounds rude and pathetic, but sometimes I'm just not in the mood to make small talk with my neighbors. This really is a fabulous neighborhood with lots of great people, but I guess growing up with space just spoiled me. Even our houses in Charlotte were pretty private.
So, anyone else out there with the same addiction? What motivates you to househunt compulsively?

Refueling my Mommy Tank

I'm blessed to have a fantastic husband. Each year that I don't have a nursing baby, I go to the beach with a few girlfriends. I go the weekend before Mother's Day, which usually ends up being the weekend after my birthday. Lincoln isn't expected to do anything else for Mother's Day (as if this isn't enough!). He watches the kiddos and I sit on a beach with no responsibilities. The toughest thing about the weekend usually is deciding where to go for dinner. Seriously- every time I've done this we have at least one night where we drive up and down the Grand Strand trying to decide where to park our tushes and eat some grub. So if that's the hardest thing I had to do for 5 days, that's not too shabby.

So just as in years past, I had a fabulous time laying on the beach soaking up the sun, something I didn't see much of for the past 6 months, reading, going for walks, shopping, collecting seashells, soaking in the hot tub, and staying up til all hours of the night being ridiculously silly.

I am so thankful to have my supportive husband, well-adjusted children, and such great friends that really know how to cut loose and have a good time.

Maybe sometime I will expand on this a bit when I'm recovered from the late nights and the sinus headache I'm suffering from right now.

Thanks ladies! I'll be watching for photos from you!

Mother's Day Getaway