Is blogging like bike riding? Not in that it also hurts your butt, but that once you do it, you don't forget how? Let's see.
I have been thinking a lot about stuff. As many of you know, we have a lot of kids. #Blessings! Once, I was in the kitchen (prolly cooking "I'll just have a yogurt instead" for dinner or preparing a lunch for its lengthy hibernation in my son's backpack. Sleep long and well, little sandwich!), and out of the corner of my eye I saw a horde of kids coming toward me. "Are my nephews also here?" I thought to myself. I didn't hear them come in but they are pretty stealth which is helped by them often showing up shoeless. Then I realized no, the hordes were all mine.
Wow I have a lot of kids was the thought I had next.
Anyway, I'm sure that related to something somehow.
So stuff. Another thing you probably know about us is that there is quite the age range among our kids. We go from 14-3. And I remember thinking when the twins were born (Ariella was 11) that if someone asked me, "Hey, Expert Parent Person, about how long can I expect my baby items to last?" I would nod sagely - for is there any other way to nod? - and expertly answer "About 11 years or 3 kids." Because many of the big ticket items we bought for Ariella that were still in great condition for Yaakov 3 years later and we managed to squeak by for Nadav 4 years after that - they had to be tossed when the twins came.
Crib and mattress? Buh-bye. Car seats? Probably safer at that point to just stick the kids to the car using peanut butter and hummus.
But some things did survive the purge and have been steadily keeping on for close to 14 years now. And I would like to pay homage (you guys it is NOT pronounced home-idge) to those items:
You know what this is? It's the changing table pad. Do you know why it's stained green at the bottom? Neither do I but let's not investigate too closely lest it lead to another doctor's appointment. So this pad was purchased for teeny tiny Ariella back in 2003. Truth is, we probably would have replaced it when Nadav was born but they don't sell this kind of pad in Israel. So we kept it. Can you imagine what this guy has been through? Don't imagine especially if you are ever planning to eat again. But a lot. This stoic, humble piece of plastic-covered foam gently cradled all 5 of our children's tiny bodies and in return for its service, was treated to a wide variety of stuff that flew out of them, often without warning. But it never complained, not once. It probably would have even eaten whatever I made for dinner, too. Wow. Serious home-idge, people.
Now since we are sorta kinda done with diapers, the changing pad resides on our Bed of Crap in our home office and let me just say if your home office doesn't include a Bed of Crap, a secondhand desk, a judo belt from omg who even took judo why the hell is this belt here???, an IKEA pantry that's doubling as a closet, drawers filled with clothing for your youngest because your friends stopped having kids before you and gleefully dumped their little girl clothing at your house in the dead of night, a Spiderman, the instructions for a humidifier we bought a year ago, used once and then sent off on its true path in life (to nobly sit on a shelf and collect dust and bacteria), strands of hair from when one twin yanked the other one's hair and refused to return it ("zeh mah hair sheli!!!!"), a dress-up hat, a broken umbrella and a robot (but not the helpful kind that will take over your life, just one that uselessly shoots foam discs at you and yells in scary Hebrew), well then, my friend, you might want to look up "home office" on Pinterest is all I'm saying.
Stay tuned for more rambles and stuff homages.
The granola of my discontent
1 month ago