October is a busy month in our house.  So busy, in fact, that I am glad it is over! Four of our five children have birthdays crammed into one frenzied week.  That week also includes our anniversary – which means that all the residents of our “Lyons Den” (including the dog, who recently celebrated his 9^th birthday) have something to celebrate in October.  All except one. Our firstborn fella, Liam.  That’s why when I was offered the chance to have a “date night” with the oldest of my little men, I leapt at the opportunity.

I have always wanted to take our family to The New Victory Theater but for one reason or another (I recycled the mailer; the triplets were too young; we couldn’t get a sitter; we couldn’t afford to take them all; I missed the date for the show we wanted to see and so on!), we just never made it. Until now.  On October 13th, I had the pleasure of my virgin voyage to The New Victory Theater and the thrill of seeing Times Square and an action-packed performance through the eyes of my almost-eight year old. Eyes that had spent the prior week ogling his siblings birthday gifts and occasionally filling with tears as they stole the limelight and he was left in the shadows.  Well, on this night, the night we saw Urban (which I described to friends as Cirque du Soleil meets hip-hop), those eyes were literally lit up like Times Square. They were so bright, so fascinated, so engaged.  And so was I.

The show was great.  Gravity-defying. Captivating. Age appropriate.  It even included a moral tale in the midst of the fast-paced action. The performers, all trained members of Circo Para Todos, come from the streets.  They are the displaced, disadvantaged youth of Colombia.  And the circus is their ticket out.  Onward and upward.  But the path from poor to prosperous can be paved with greed — such was the cautionary tale seamlessly woven into the aerial feats and acrobatics.

For Liam and I, it was a night to remember and one we hope to repeat. We had time to talk, uninterrupted, as we drove into the city.  We learned something new together (juggling!) during the family workshop we participated in before the show.  And, we had the chance to truly connect and share a new experience together.  Given our busy lives and busier weekends (soccer, basketball, birthday parties, etc!), I know we won’t go back to the The New Victory Theater as often as I’d like.  But I do know we will go back.  Hopefully soon!

If you’re interested in learning more, here is the schedule of upcoming productions — all of which sound great to me!

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This week we are moving. The countdown is on. Just three days to go.  Rather than packing and organizing and preparing for our new life in a new home, I’m at a conference in Chicago as the clock ticks down our last days in our first home.  Crazy, right?

Well, in fairness, this is business travel, not a frivolous getaway and, Marketing to Moms is a really good conference.  Although the notion of moving has me totally FREAKED OUT, I have convinced myself that getting away for a few days will help me be better prepared to enter the fray when I return.  Even though my days here are long and filled with working and networking, it’s still a break from the chaos, stress and pressure of juggling a job, five kids and a pending move.  I’ve decided that there are some distinct advantages to this admittedly untimely trip…

I feel appreciated.  In the 8 hours since I’ve left home, I’ve fielded texts and calls seeking the whereabouts of:

• CCD homework (my oldest son)
• Thank you notes (my daughter)
• Dinner (my husband! Even though I left food in the fridge and a message on the white board in the kitchen!)

I feel accomplished.  Not only did I advise (accurately!) on the whereabouts of the aforementioned items but I also found a few minutes to make a few calls that are mission critical to our move…

• The movers (no doubt we need them!)
• The mortgage company (one of the more important details for a closing, I now understand!)
• The school bus company (which will be a key requirement for my grammar schoolers on Monday morning at 7:30!)

I’ve had a few opportunities I rarely get at home…

• The chance to have dinner with a great friend who lives in Chicago and I haven’t seen in far too long – as evidenced by her greeting: “Wow!  Look how much lighter your hair is!”  By “lighter”, she meant “grey.”  Note to self: must see her more often and/or do a better job with hair color!
• Shopping! My 7 year old has been walking around in pants that suggest he has either A. Survived or is B. Anticipating the great flood.  This kid’s pants are so short, he’s at risk for frostbite on his ankles.  And shins. The boy needs pants.  And, since I had the good fortune of walking by Old Navy (which would never happen at home!), now he has them.  And can look forward to warm ankles. And shins. Amen.
• Sleep! No middle of the night visitors — no one who has to pee, feels compelled to tell me they peed in the potty or alert me to the unfortunate fact that their bed is wet.  And, though I love him, there is no furry four-legged friend trying to jump on the bed in the middle of the night… his own way of telling me that he has to pee!

Before signing off to indulge in some of that rare and elusive shut-eye, I have to mention one other benefit of this trip – and of business travel in general.  It is a chance to mix and mingle and be motivated and inspired by other working moms.  You know who you are.  You too have left sweet, needy children and husbands who can’t find their dinner at home.  You too have struggled with the juggle, the pressure, the quest for balance.  And, from what I’ve seen, you have succeeded.  And, given me the confidence that I will too!  Now, sweet dreams – this mama needs to get some rest so I return home ready for this move!

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Last week, our daughter turned six and the triplets turned four.  Needless to say, it was quite a week!  My quest to create the “perfect” birthday had me wrapping gifts and baking cupcakes late into the night; my desire to create happy memories had me whipped into a frenzy.  I was afraid I hadn’t gotten enough gifts, that I hadn’t gotten the “right” gifts.  I was afraid of those bright eager eyes displaying even a hint of disappointment on their birthdays.  And you know what?  I had nothing at all to be afraid of.  Except, perhaps, for the fact that they are all growing up way too fast.  It sounds so trite but if I had a tip to share this Tuesday, it would be to live in the moment, to cherish the moment because the moments — and years — pass quickly.  If I were to share another nugget of supposed wisdom, it would be a repeat of a tip of a Tuesday past — write things down. Write down the sweet, silly things they say.  They will make you laugh and make you realize just how “perfect” the small, everyday moments are.  In that spirit, I hope you’ll read the post I wrote for the Huffington Post last week… and I hope it gives you a few chuckles and inspires you to capture the wonder of it all.

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It’s hard to believe it’s already October.  Summer is over, school is in full swing and the busiest month of the year is upon us.  Why is October the busiest month of the year? Well, four of our five children were born in October.  And it’s our anniversary.  And then, just when you think it’s over, there’s Halloween!  All of these things require thoughtfulness and planning above and beyond the already challenging task of juggling an active family of seven and a full-time job.

Oh, and just to spice things up a bit, this October, we’re MOVING… which means that in addition to everything else, there is packing and cleaning and phone calls and planning to add to my daily routine.  Lest I should forget, there is also a 3-day conference in Chicago that will take me away from that routine just two days before our move.  Are you stressed out yet?  I sure am!

As I look at the calendar, I am reminded that our triplets turn four on Wednesday (tomorrow!) and our 10^th Anniversary is on Friday.  The triplets are in pretty good shape; there is no party planned (yet!) but there are gifts to be wrapped and a cake to be baked.  My husband, on the other hand, is not so lucky; there is a card to be written but thus far, no gifts to be had.  Which leads me to the point.

As I look at the calendar, I am completely overwhelmed.  Completely and utterly overwhelmed.  How will I get it all done?!  There aren’t enough hours in the day!  So, to avoid a total mental meltdown (my family and friends might say that a partial meltdown is already progress), I have decided to take it just one day at a time and so far, it’s working pretty well.   Take a look at last weekend as an example…

Our daughter turned six on Saturday so, we made cupcakes Friday night and Saturday truly was “all about her” – she had her first big party, complete with dancing and goodie bags.  She had her first sleepover, complete with popcorn and a movie.  And we went to bed that night delighted that our only little lady had “the best birthday ever.”

On Sunday, we were up at the crack of dawn, lugging out our wares for our neighborhood’s multi-family tag sale.  We set up toys, books, housewares and the relics of our baby days on the curb, displaying it just so to maximize the appeal for would-be buyers.  Then the rain started.  So we lugged it all on the porch.  Then the hours passed.  And no one came.  So finally, we loaded our gently used items and memorabilia into the minivan… and had a big glass of wine.

The moral of the story?  Take it one day at a time.  If you’d asked me last Friday how I was going to bake cupcakes, wrap gifts, throw a birthday party, have a slumber party and organize a yard sale over the weekend, I would have told you that I had no clue, that it was too overwhelming to even consider! But now it’s Tuesday and despite the rain, our missions were accomplished and we somehow pulled it all off.  One day at a time.  That’s really the only way.

So, when I look at the month of October on the calendar, there is no denying that it is daunting.  But, we made it through the first nine days and will surely survive the next 22 – birthdays, anniversary, work, move and all!   Before I know it, it will be November.  Before I know it, my three year olds will be four, my husband and I will have celebrated a decade together and our family will be in a new house.  And then I’ll be wondering how to juggle unpacking and settling us in, planning our oldest son’s 8^th birthday and preparing for the holidays.  When I start to feel overwhelmed (that’s assuming I ever stop!), I think I’ll reread this and remind myself: one day at a time. Everything is possible if you take it just one day at a time.  And have that occasional glass of wine!

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Look familiar?

Does this picture look familiar?  With five kids who are now seven, five and three (times three!), this is a look I see all too often.  Like three times a day.  Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Times five kids.  That’s ten eyeballs rolling to the skies with pretty much every plate we ever place in front of them.

What’s a frustrated (and occasionally pissed off!) Mom to do?  We’ve tried reasoning with them: “Just try it, you might like it.”  We’ve tried pleading with them: “Please? Please eat just one!  Just ONE?!”  We’ve tried bribing them: “Eat your beans and you can have dessert.”  We’ve tried bargaining with them: “Ok, just eat seven beans because you’re seven years old and you can have a cookie.” And, as a last resort, we’ve even stooped to guilting them, just as our parents did to us: “You HAVE to eat it. There are starving children in (insert country here).”

Needless to say, none of these ploys work.  And, my frustration is growing in direct proportion to our growing grocery bills.  I just can’t stand — can NOT stand! — throwing food away.  We work hard for our money; we work hard to provide healthy, well balanced meals.  And, if that’s not enough to persuade our persnickety half-pints, there truly are starving children all around the world — and, for that matter, close to home as well.

My frustration reached fever pitch the past few weeks with the return of school — and the associated return of lunchboxes that came home almost as full as when they left.  Each evening, I was faced with room-temperature yogurt, misshapen cheese sticks and soggy sandwiches.  “Why didn’t you eat your lunch?!” I yelled at their little upturned noses.  “It was too warm.” “It was squished.” “It was soggy” I was told.  Of course, that wasn’t quite the truth.  The truth is that they were bored with the same-old options.  In an effort to control my temper and not further frighten my third-grader who was eyeing me like the madwoman I was, I gathered what wits I had left and asked him to write down five things he’d like to have for lunch.  This is what I got:

• pasta and butter
• mac and cheese
• chicken nuggets
• chicken noodle soup
• grilled cheese

You know what these things are?  Dinner! Not every night, of course but, these are my lazy working mom’s go-to weeknight standbys.  I panicked.  If I give the kids mac and cheese for lunch, what will I do for dinner?!  And then it hit me.  Sandwiches! Yogurt! Cheese Sticks! Apple slices! Carrots sticks!  And all the other yummy, healthy things that I pack for lunch and unpack at the end of the day.  Yes my friends, that is the solution.  A weapon in your arsenal against picky eaters:  Make lunch the new dinner and vice versa!  It works!

From a kid perspective, it is fun and novel and new — and that is half the battle.  We’ve long enjoyed “breakast for dinner” on busy nights when the fridge can’t cough up more than a few eggs and english muffins but, the notion of “lunch for dinner” or better yet, “dinner for lunch” hadn’t occurred to me. Until now.  And so far, it’s working like a charm.  As for the old line about hungry kids around the world, well, we can’t help them all but we sure hope to help some.  This fall we’re going to bake brownies for a local shelter and deliver food baskets for Thanksgiving.  I’d like to think that we’re doing our (admittedly small) part in stamping out hunger and, selfishly, I will sleep better knowing that my own kids won’t be “starving” in their school cafeteria.

Do you have any tips for picky eaters? Please share — before the novelty of this one wears off for our brood!

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It’s only Tuesday and already it’s been a long week.  The kids are still struggling to get in the back to school routine and, well, I am too. It’s exhausting!  Each day starts with dragging them out of bed, forcing them to make those beds and then rather unceremoniously shoving them out the door to the bus.  Each day ends in a frenzy of “Did you do your homework? No, you can’t play the Wii. Why didn’t you eat your lunch? Where is your library book?!” And so on until we shove them back into those nicely made beds.

I decided tonight would be different.  My husband had to stay in the city for a work-related event and I decided to make a concerted effort to be the kind, patient, supportive Mom I want to be rather then the tired, cranky, nagging Mom I often am.  I have to say, it kind of worked.  Not in a gold star kind of a way but in a “greatly improved” kind of a way.

After a quick dinner of “dinner eggs” (see, I told you there would be no gold star!), I ushered my four youngest kids out to the yard so I could have some quality time with my third-grader — the one who is most often on the receiving end of my bedtime barrage of questions.  Instead my typical yelling and accusing as I dash to and fro with pajamas and toothbrushes in hand, I sat down and I listened.  And he talked.  And he told me why sometimes it’s hard to finish all his homework.  And he told me what he would like to eat for lunch.  And it was all very reasonable. And we both felt good.

I then called in the little ones and asked my big guy to curl up with a book while I got them ready for bed.  We actually had fun as we put on PJs, brushed teeth and picked out a story. Separating “big” from “little” worked like a charm. Everyone felt like they got a piece of this tired, stressed-out Mama – and apparently, they like that!

Then I looked at the book they chose.  Want to know what it was?  It was called “Dad is Great.”  I kid you not.  I don’t how or when that propaganda landed on the bookshelf but boy, did it ever burst my bubble!  I mean, of course, their Dad is great but really, do we need to dwell on it tonight of all nights?  Tonight would have been a good night to read “MOM is Great,” is such a book exists.  If not, I’ve changed my mind.  I want that gold star!

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Filling out school forms: painful!

As you know if you are a regular reader, I typically write a “Tuesday Tip.”  People tend to marvel at the way we seemingly breeze through life with our brood of five children and have asked that I share the things that work for us – snack ideas, vacation spots, general discipline tips, etc. – and so I do.  Here’s the thing though – it’s not always a breeze.  In fact, it rarely is.

When the clock struck midnight last night, I was still filling out school forms and realized that I’d literally timed myself out of my typical Tuesday tip.  I thought perhaps I’d share a nugget of “Wednesday wisdom”  but, I fear what you’re going to get here instead is a massive dose of “Wednesday whining.”

At the moment, I’m tapped out of tips. I’m tired. Exhausted, in fact. Ever since summer came to an abrupt close and the school year started, I’ve felt like a rat on a wheel.  Everything in our life seems to be stuck in high gear, in the fast lane.  My job, always fast-paced and challenging, has picked up in intensity.  Our two older kids, now officially first and third graders, are adjusting to a busy school year as we all struggle to get in the groove of wake up/school bus/ homework/ CCD/soccer /wash/rinse/repeat. It’s a never-ending circuit with backpacks, folders and soccer cleats constantly caught in the spin cycle.

Then there are the triplets. Almost four (how did that ever happen so fast?!), they are gearing up for preschool.  Hence the forms I was filling out late last night.  When did they first walk/talk/sit/stand/crawl?  I honestly don’t have a clue.  I was going to make it up but didn’t have the energy.  So, I simply entered “at the normal age of development” on all three forms.  Then I had to explain how our trio of tots differ – after all, they are identical and the school needs a few hints for telling them apart.  Think about that for a minute – I have to create copious notes for anyone who interacts with our three little fellas… teachers, babysitters, heck, even my own parents can’t tell them apart.  It’s not a breeze.

Perhaps most challenging for me the past few weeks has been writing our address on each of the zillion forms that have crossed the threshold – forms for Girl Scouts and soccer, for emergency contacts and basic medical information.  Each and every form requires our address. And each and every time I write it down I want to cry.  Why?  Because we are moving.  In just about six weeks.  Where? Once again, I honestly haven’t a clue.

We sold our house, which was the right thing to do.  We’ve outgrown it.  It has been the perfect “my first house” and now it’s time for the next one.  But where is it? I don’t know. And I’m worried. And scared. And totally freaked out.  I’ve tried to pack but I just can’t do it.  How can I pack if I don’t know where we are going? Will we find a house to rent and need to stick some stuff in storage? Will we find a house to buy and only live in limbo for a few weeks between close dates? Will we be flopping on the floors of friends and therefore only need our clothes? I don’t know. I just don’t know.  And that is why if I need to fill out one more freakin’ form with our current address – our home sweet home — I will, well, I suppose I will keep on keepin’ on. What other choice is there?  I will grin and bear it.  I will hope for the best.  I will try to have faith that it will all work out in the end.  And when it does, I just might share how it did in Tuesday Tip of the future.  Until then, stick with me and forgive me for the Wednesday Whine!

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Does this sound familiar? “You can’t have those snacks at home– those are ‘on the go’ snacks!”  Or perhaps you’ve said this once or twice?  “If you want a ‘fruit snack’, eat a piece of fruit!”  These frequent exchanges highlight the two main mistakes I’ve made since our kids have become serial snackers:

1. I fell victim to those cute, convenient and exorbitantly priced single serve packages of pretty much everything.  Raisins. Applesauce. Goldfish. You name it.  If it seemed relatively healthy, came in a handy “snack pack” and was sold at Costco, I bought it.
2. “Fruit Snacks.”  Why they don’t call these gummy bears or gummy “fruits”,  I’ll never know.  But, suffice it to say, if you read the label, these so-called fruit snacks are far more sugar and far less fruit.  And really, with a just a pint-sized handful per serving, they are not filling anyone up!  I don’t care if they are made by Welch’s or Mott’s or even organic Annie’s, they are junk.

There. I said it.  I have bought a lot of junk.  And I wish I hadn’t because old habits die hard.  Even with kids who are only 3, 5 and 7!  This junk is also very expensive — far too expensive to continue buying for the long run when you have to dole out the snacks five at a time!

So, what’s a mom to do?  Well, for starters, learn from my mistakes…

• Avoid those clever, convenient prepackaged snacks and buy in bulk instead.  Get that super-sized bag of Goldfish or raisins at Costco or and divvy it up in small containers each day.  I’m a big fan of the Take and Toss cups that come in two sizes – one that’s just right for tiny tots and one that will be perfect for your budding scholar.  If you want something less plastic and more permanent, I have friends who give rave reviews to Glass Lock containers, which have fun, bright lids in several colors to brighten up both lunch boxes and dreary days!
• Pack a real fruit snack. As in a piece of actual fruit.  We’ve had success with bananas, apples, blueberries, strawberries and grapes – even though last year when my only little lady was in kindergarten, she wrote me a note I’ll never forget: “Mom.  Don’t pak gren grapz. I like red onz. But I stil love you.”

So, there you have it –  written proof that your kids will love you even if you eliminate fake fruit snacks!  Here is a more complete list of our standards to keep our pack of snackers happy… and ideally, healthy too!

• Goldfish, pretzels, Ritz crackers, Wheat Thins
• Graham crackers, Teddy Grahams and even the occasional Oreo (we all need a treat sometimes!)
• Carrots, cucumber, pepper slices served with a side of hummus
• Sliced apples, kiwi, clementines, oranges, bananas, grapes, strawberries, blueberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, pineapple
• Raisins and other dried fruit: apricots, cherries, cranberries, mango, etc.
• Cereal bars – our favorites come from Kellogg’s (and are available at Costco and other “big box” stores) or Trader Joe’s
• Yogurt.  Note that this says Yogurt. Not Gogurt. I’ve had to boycott Gogurt ever since they introduced the Sponge Bob version that glows in the dark.  My kids can be hard enough to handle in the dark – the last thing I need is their bellies to glow!

One last tip — buy on sale and buy in bulk.  Our go-to stops for snack supplies include Costco, Target, Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods.  Happy Snacking!

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Here is the post I wrote on the eve of my 41st birthday.  An evening when I was feeling a bit down and out.  Today, the day after, the day I am 41+, I am feeling just fine. Why? Because of my amazing family and friends and the keen realization that whatever lies ahead, they will be there.  To understand my trepidation about what lies ahead, read on…

Tomorrow I will be 41. It feels so anticlimactic as compared to 40.  When I turned 40, I anticipated an “event.”  And indeed, I got one.  First there was a fancy dinner in the city – a great date that included a moonlit walk over the Brooklyn Bridge.  And then, a week later, just as I thought the notion of being surprised had passed me by, there was a party in the park, complete with our kids, family, friends and lots of cake and balloons.

I was pleased as punch and felt more like a 40 year old child than a middle aged adult.  I still do.  In fact, my own husband remarked just the other day that I was behaving like a child. And not in a good way.

I get cranky when I get tired. I get really cranky when I get hungry.  I get pissy when I don’t get my own way. Which is often, as it is for all parents. The needs of five kids seven and under simply must come first.

Even so, I still like birthday cake and presents. And parties.  I also like puppies and kittens and trips to the zoo.  And the aquarium.  Oh how I love a good aquarium!  I like sprinkles on ice cream and milk with cookies.  Sunshine makes me happy although, despite many a bad burn, I still hate to put on sunblock.

My childlike tendencies go on and on.  I believe people are good.  A small part of me still believes in Santa Claus.  I love Christmas, just like I love birthdays. But somehow, this birthday is different.

It’s not just my birthday.  It is my oldest son’s first day of third grade and the day our only daughter will become a first grader. It is a monumental day in their lives.  And that makes the fact that I am turning yet another year older seem pretty insignificant. Forty one. Big whoop.

As the date of my birth gets closer by the minute, it occurs to me that I am no longer that 40 year-old child.  I have great angst about the choices and changes that loom ahead.  As the kids start a new year in school, we are faced with momentous, life-changing decisions.  Do we sell our charming “my first house” or stay put a few more years? Do we move to a new neighborhood in pursuit of more space to stretch out or stay put because it is comfortable and easy and, well, practically perfect in every way?  What about childcare?  Our triplets are starting pre-school and their needs are changing. But what to do about it? Where is the guidebook? And what if all this change isn’t for the better?!

These are the questions that keep me up at night on the eve of my birthday. Before a new day dawns.  A day of new beginnings.  A day filled with the promise of a new school year and freshly sharpened pencils. A day filled with questions.  Big questions. And worries.  Big worries. And fear.  Fear of the changes ahead and the decisions we have to make.  A day that I still hope will bring birthday cake. And, with a bit of luck, wishes that will come true.  A day that is my birthday. But is certainly not all about me. A day that I think I am last ready to admit I am an adult. A 41 year old adult.  Hopefully, in a good way.

• 

Last weekend, I realized once again how important it is to always tell the truth. And to teach our kids to do the same.

The trouble began on Saturday morning.  I put a dozen eggs on the counter and when I emerged from the bathroom, a  dozen eggs were smashed on the floor.  Want to know the truth?  I freaked out. I yelled and demanded to know whodunit.  And then, much to my surprise, a little voice said “Sorry Ma, it was an accident.”  And I smiled and thought smug thoughts about what a swell job we’re doing raising honest kids who take responsibility for their actions.  And then Sunday morning happened.

This time I was actually scrambling a dozen eggs (yes, we buy a LOT of eggs!) when I heard a howl from above.  I ran upstairs to discover one sad little boy whose WaWa (our endearing term for a lovely blanket), pillow, bed and wall had been slathered in A&D Ointment.  Are you familiar with A&D Ointment?  It has a distinctly medicinal scent and the consistency of Vaseline. And it was everywhere. And I was pissed.  So I yelled again.  I really yelled.

“WHO DID THIS?!” I shrieked. And four sets of unblinking eyes looked back at me in defiance, each seeming to say, “Not me.” “You’ll never know.” Or “you’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”  They never fessed up.  So much for raising honest kids who take responsibility for their actions!  What to do?

I decided to tell them the truth.  To remind them how proud I’d been the day before when a guilty little fella fessed up.  And how disappointed I was that they didn’t.  I told them that I make mistakes.  Lots of them. Like yelling at them like a crazy woman.  I explained that nothing is more important than the truth.  I believe this.  And I hope my actions will teach them to believe it too.  So that one day, when our worries are larger than broken eggs or “ointment art”, they will confide in me.  Until then, I will try to yell less and just be grateful that everyone still wants to eat eggs together on the weekend!

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