What if there had been a Francesca?

Last night I fell asleep on the sofa. And I stayed there all night. It's been a long time since I've done that. Hubby was sleeping in at the firehouse, so after the kids were in bed, I snuggled up on the sofa with a blanket and put in my ear buds and started playing the Hunger Games audio book. Since I'd seen the movie that afternoon, I wanted to go back and compare it to the book. I scrolled through to find the point at which I'd stopped reading the book -- around chapter 4 -- to pick up there, but I gave up and just listened. And before I knew it I was out.

I woke up a few times, too groggy to get up and go to my own bed. So, there I stayed, waking every now and then and covering my eyes to block the light. But, apparently I fell into a deep enough sleep for some intense dreaming. When I woke up, I was having a really weird dream. I was in the postpartum area at the hospital - as a patient. I'd just given birth....to quintuplets!!!!

There were three boys and two girls. I didn't stay long and was soon heading home. I don't remember even seeing the boy babies, but one girl was very quiet and mellow. I said I wanted to name her Bailey. I always liked that name. The other girl was smiling...like immediately. She was supposed to just be a few days old, but was constantly smiling and holding her head up. She had a head full of light brown hair, sparkling eyes and a cute little nose. My sister-in-law held her up in this cute pink flowery sleeper and said she thought we should call her Francesca. I agreed. She and my sister were the only ones that would talk to me and who were happy. Everyone else was very hostile and angry that we'd had more kids. The boys were outside hunting for Easter eggs. And then I woke up.

I have crazy dreams quite often. I remember at one time reading something saying that when you have a vivid dream, it is related to something you thought of or talked about during the previous day. I'm not sure if I thought of anything that day that would make that dream make sense, but I've read a few blogs and articles lately that talked about the guilt of wanting a child of the same sex (a mom wanting a daughter, a dad wanting a son) and another about mourning a child you'd never have (again, written by a mom wanting a daughter) and   I've just seen a couple other posts on that topic lately.

I have all boys. I love them with all my heart, but the more I see such articles and posts, I realize it's not uncommon to feel a little sad at not having a daughter. We are done having kids. There will never be a daughter. That's life. That's the way it is. I still love mothering sons. But I admit I still get a weird little twinge when I see prom dresses on display or a little girl getting her nails done. Sometimes I feel like that should be me shopping with my daughter.

As a child, I never envisioned my life without a daughter in it. I grew up with sisters. I had nieces that I hung out with and babysat. I was so familiar with little girls. I was good at being around little girls. I wanted to be around little girls. I was supposed to have one of my own. But, I didn't. And I won't. I wouldn't trade my little guys for anything. Once you have a child, you can't imagine what life would be without them. Sometimes I just wonder how different life might be...if I'd been a mom to a little girl like me.

The conference and my crazy day ahead

Well, a couple weeks ago we (my three sisters and I) got together for our sisters weekend, but one of my sisters and I also attended a conference. I've been intending to post something on it, but I even when I think of a topic I want to write about on this blog, I put if off because I feel like I need the time to get really in-depth on the topic. I guess I should get that out of my head. When I put an entry in for my food blog, it's rarely long. Sometimes it's just a picture and a sentence or two. I can do the same here. There are no rules. There aren't blog police who are going to show up and say, "Sorry, ma'am, you're under 500-words. Add some details and re-submit it." That's what's nice about blogging, you write what you feel like writing, not what an editor assigned to you.

And sometimes I think I'll jot down a few things and before I know it I've poured out 10 paragraphs. I don't have a lot of time today...it's my day to do photos in the nursery at the hospital today and I just got a text from my co-worker that there were 11 babies born yesterday when she left at 6 p.m. and a couple carried over from the previous day. On average, we spend an hour in each room, so if there were no more babies born after she left and there are no babies going home in neo-natal today and I photo all 13, I'll be there until about 11 p.m.!!!! So, I have a CRAZY day ahead.

Also, I haven't posted on the conference because my desk is in a bit of disarray and I have no idea where I put my notes from the day!! I'll just post this pic of our keynote speakers, Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar. I really enjoyed their talk, which did include a lot of great parenting advice. I haven't watched her show much, but it always saddens me how hostile people are toward her. Why can't we just live our lives and not judge others for their choices? So, she has a lot of children. They are loved and they are taken care of. I've come across more than a few professional welfare mothers -- four or six or eight kids, each from a different father, and being supported entirely by the welfare system and proud of it. It's unfortunate to see this, but it's a situation where perhaps a bit of criticism can be justified for poor choices made. Although the Duggar's lifestyle is extreme and not what the majority of parents would choose, their kids seem to have all of their basic needs met -- of food and shelter and love -- and then some. Ok, I'm done, and I've rambled on more than I planned. I'll go look for those notes and get off to work.

I was pretty close. Row 2 and we sat in on two sessions with the Duggars.

The mad scramble

I'm in one of these last minute chicken-with-my-head-cut off phases. Have I mentioned I'm doing another book? And I agreed to a May deadline for it for some reason. Oh, yeah, because if I got everything in by the end of May, there would be a good chance the book would be available before Christmas.

Anyway, I know that May is my busiest month of the year and April is not far behind. It's field trip season at school. There's Spring Break. There's Easter. There's not one, but three kids with birthdays. There are annual projects in clubs/organizations I'm involved in and end of the year banquets. There are spring musicals at school and soon picnics and end of year activities. Oh, and my oldest graduates from high school in May. And at my part-time job, one girl resigned and they need extra help. I really don't know what I was thinking when I took this on, but I'm here now and there's no turning back. And sometimes I need that looming deadline to give me that push to get moving.

So, the final layout of the book and all materials are due in May. But, next week my cover materials are due. I'm running into problems and the project is becoming way more involved than I expected. Way more work.Way more time. Had I known then what I know now, I'm not sure I would have taken it on. Or at least not for a deadline in May.

For the cover, I need to submit 20 images. Well, getting the images scanned to the exact specifications has been much more difficult than I anticipated. It took a lot of trial and error to get to the right format. Some were saved in the wrong format or the incorrect size and I'm doing a lot of work from scratch. For some of the images, I'm saving them at 600% the original size to make sure they are usable for the publisher. Then it takes like a half-hour to complete a scan because it's so large. Tonight my computer went haywire in mid-scan and shut down. And I've had a couple dozen images provided to me that I'm told are not usable due to size or format and now I'm stuck scrambling to find enough that I can send off that meet the publisher's requirements. I rarely drink...but this project may have me reaching for a cocktail or two by next week's deadline.

Aside from these scanning headaches, I'm enjoying diving into the rest of it. It's for a publisher of local histories and I'm compiling a list of individuals to write brief biographies on. It's fascinating to learn about others' lives, especially those lived long ago. I shall check back soon when I come out of this scanning cave I'm in....or when someone finds me curled up in the fetal position in the corner. But I don't give up that easily. On to the next scan!

P.S. I tried to upload a cute photo of a high school teacher circa 1920 or so...but...it's not the right format for this blog. LOL!!!!!!!!!!!

Give them a hug

So, recently I read a post on a FB friend's wall. He has a brother who I believe has cancer. His status that day: "If you have siblings, give them a hug. If you have more than one child, let them know how important they are to one another." Good advice.

I feel really lucky to have 5 siblings. Whenever someone hears "six kids," they seem to automatically think "Brady Bunch." But, our family has four girls and two boys. And there's almost 20 years from oldest to youngest.   The first three are close in age. Then there's a 13 year gap, then there were three more. The last two are twins.

The four girls got together recently. One of the twins and I decided to go to a conference on mothering called Hearts at Home. It's a faith-based organization in her area that holds an annual conference to encourage and nurture moms in their rewarding, yet difficult and exhausting roles. Jen and I had a great time at the conference. Becky and Pam hung out at the pool and in the hotel room while we were gone. That evening we met up for dinner at a Japanese steakhouse in Bloomington. We all love Japanese food. In fact, we went to a similar place for our last girl's night out. Somehow a lot of our sister time is spent eating. But...when you are a mom it's always a treat to go have a meal and not to have to cut up meat for anyone but yourself. :)

There's no time like sister time

So, last week us gals had our much anticipated sister's weekend. We try to do it once a year and started the tradition about four years ago. One year it was a B & B/spa weekend, another it was dinner and a sleepover at my sister's place and another year it was two nights at another sister's place for the St. Charles (IL) Sisters Weekend arranged by the area's chamber or tourism council. This year we headed down near my sis Jen's place in central Illinois. She and I planned on going to the Hearts at Home conference  on the ISU campus and the other two sisters came down to hang out at the hotel and have some fun. We were there two nights and it's always so much fun to be around them.

So, I'll break up our weekend into a couple posts. Our first day, I was the last to arrive in the late afternoon. My three sisters were hanging out in the lobby and we chatted and tried to decide what to do for dinner. We finally decided on Famous Dave's BBQ. Good choice. Doesn't that look delish?

We're a fun bunch. And we love to eat...in fact Becky, the blond one below, and I write a food blog. Have you seen it? If not, check it out at www.chicagofoodiesisters.blogspot.com. Jen is on the left. Okay, I know it's hard to believe, but those two are twins. They really are!

And this is my big sis, Pam. The best big sis anyone could ever ask for. Love them all so much and am thankful for our fun weekend together!

Back at the hotel, we talked and giggled. We all sat on the beds with electronic devices...phones and iPads. And we ate some more. :) Jen brought these awesome cookies made by a friend of hers.

You don't fight at all, do you?

So, the other day I posted that my middle guy, age 10, was home sick from school. Yesterday he was still sick. Today he wasn't getting any better, so it was off to the pediatrician to see what was going on. I expected strep throat since he often has strep when he complains of a bad sore throat. Well, not this time. Now it's bronchitis. Poor thing.

His 8-year-old brother was complaining of a sore throat this morning. So, he was also home from school and was also with us at the doctor's office. Once we got into the exam room, I strategically positioned myself in the middle on the bench seats so that the two wouldn't be touching in any way or have any reason to quarrel about anything. They were doing pretty good. Until the doctor came in.

Along the way, in his string of questions about appetite and if he was sleeping ok and if his ears hurt, he asked a question that opened up a can of worms. He said, "You guys don't ever fight, do you?" Well, what followed was something like this:

8-year-old: No.
10-year-old: Not really.
8yo: Well, sometimes.
10yo: We only fight when he starts it.
8yo: No, I don't.
10yo: You start it by making annoying noises.
8yo: No, I don't. You start it.
10yo: How do I start it? You're the annoying one.
8yo: But it's because you yell at me.
10yo: I yell at you because you're annoying.
8yo: I am not annoying.
10yo: Oh, shut up.
8yo: No, you.
10yo: No, you.
8yo: No.
10yo: No, you're the one who's annoying.

I looked at the doctor. "I guess you got your answer."

A day at the beach

So, today I had to go out to Porter, Indiana to take some pictures to accompany and article I'm writing. Since it was 80 degrees and I was right down the street from the Indiana Dunes, I couldn't help but stop. I don't think I've been to that state park since I was a kid. I think I was about 11 and went with some family friends. I fell asleep on a blanket on the beach and went home with the worst sunburn I'd ever had. And still groggy when we returned home, I fell and then scraped up my sunburned skin. Ouch!

My middle boy stayed home from school today. He had a bad cough and a sore throat. He's prone to strep. I hope that's not what's wrong. Figured it was best to keep him home from school. When it was time for me to leave, I asked if he wanted to go along. He'd been lying on the sofa all morning and I thought it would be good for him to get out for a little fresh air. With a little urging, he came along and said he'd just hang out in the car since he didn't feel good.

Once we got there, he didn't want to get out of the car, but he finally did. And then he ran and tried to hide so I wouldn't take his picture.

A little sand in the shoes. :)

Guess he had a little fun, after all.

Love the old Beach House from 1929.