The Cain and Abel of the bird world

One of our finches (Lil Jon) killed the other one (Robin Hood). He had been picking on him (pecking on him?) for quite awhile now. This is the end of six weeks of abuse, during which he had lost most of his feathers and had suffered several bloody attacks. We think they (the two males) were fighting over the female, Beyonce, their sister.

Today, after returning from a trip all around the state, we found poor little Robin Hood mangled but still living, breathing slowly and hiding in the food bowl. His eyes were swollen shut and his face was bloody.

We transferred him to his own box, to try to nurse him back to health. While we were watching him and pondering what we should do, he fluttered his wings one last time, stretched out his legs and died before our eyes. It was a sad moment in our house... you feel bad for the little guy getting picked on. I showed the dead bird to Helena and James, and it is hard to tell what they thought. They acted differently than how they normally react when I show them a bird in my hands, worth two in the bush. They normally are interested and fascinated, and they still were with he dead bird, but in a different way, yet it was clear they had no idea what had actually happened.

Robin Hood is laying in state tonight, and a backyard funeral is planned for tomorrow. In lieu of flowers, we ask that you make a donation to your local chapter of "STOP Bird-on-Bird Violence NOW!" (SBOBViN)

"Happiness Attracts"

When asked about his strategy for increasing vocations in his new Archdiocese, Soon-to-be-Archbishop of NY Timothy Dolan said "Happiness Attracts." As I read that in the NYT, his words struck a chord in my heart and in my mind. I feel that we are here "Out West" for more than just a few reasons. One of them is to live the life we are called to, and be examples for others. If there is one thing about the way someone lives that is convincing of the fact that the person in question has "got it right," it is their genuine happiness.

pics from fun in the sun

food and sun

I think that if I were rich I would have a personal chef. I like cooking a lot, but somethings I want to eat are beyond me. Not that I couldn't make them I just don't have that kind of energy right now to make gourmet fare everyday and you know-- I really wouldn't mind having savory crepes for lunch everyday followed by dinner of elaborately cooked meats in exceedingly complex rich sauces. I'd really not mind at all.

Yesterday here was pretty lovely, Eric and I hung out on our front steps and watched the babies explore. It was so warm that I was barefoot, and the sun felt so nice. I'm very much ready for spring, actually I'd skip spring and head right to summer. Enough of this cold already bring on the tank tops! Supposedly Springs in New Mexico aren't that pleasant. Capricious weather and extreme winds. I guess I'll always be longing for those idyllic Mary Washington azalea fests in April.

Eric made me delicious pancakes this morning. I can't stand to watch him make them because he never measures things properly, but I must admit his pancakes are always dynamite. He might be the next best thing to a gourmet chef I get so maybe I shouldn't give him such a hard time about how he measures flour.

Vegetable Vaccuum

My daughter's mouth is a veritable vaccuum for all things green. broccoli, asparagus, spinach, peas, kale, chard, if you put it on her plate, she'll suck it right up. it's amazing the speed of her hand from her plate to her mouth when there are anitoxidants to be had.

Free Hugs

H. and J. have learned to hug, and it's adorable. In the kitchen, in my arms at Mass, playing on the floor, it's a hug-fest here out West. Even cuter was the 3yr old that H. made friends with after Mass today, a little boy who loved to hug as much as she did. In addition to hugs, each of our children now can give normal kisses, not those silly open-mouthed slobbery ones they've only been able to give until now.

Out with the old, in with the new (furnace)

The men came by today and installed our new furnace, which is good on many levels. first, the old one was the original furnace, installed improperly by the construction company in such a way that all the furnaces they installed were in constant danger of blowing up. yes, blowing up. we weren't too keen on the fire hazard. (explosion hazard?) also, the old one was really loud, and made many bangs, clangs, and booms, just to keep you guessing when the explosion would happen. also, the blowers didn't circulate the heat very well, and half the house was always 10 degrees colder than the rest. Today, we found out from the manly men who installed our furnace that the weak blowers were a good thing, because they kept the carbon monoxide from circulating, thus keeping us alive.

The new furnace is whisper quiet and heats the house perfectly. yay :)

also, we got pie to go from a local diner to eat for dessert. the bag seemed rather heavy for two slices of pie, and I was pleased to discover that while Logan's slice was a normal size, mine was 1/4 of a 10 inch pie. needless to say, we shared.


but not with the babies.

spoon fighting

As they have grown up, we have had to place the babies' chairs further apart. If they are too close, one might steal from the other (peas! let me have some of yours!) or one might try to unload something they don't like onto the other's tray. today they learned how to bridge that gap.

Breakfast for the babies is usually eggs or oatmeal, and maybe a little fruit. Both are easy to make, although the oatmeal can get a little messy. Today I had my back to the babies as they ate their oatmeal, and I heard the clink clink of silverware coming together. Turning around, I see the babies have each reached across the divide and are are pirates dueling on the gangplank, or knights on the field of battle, or whatever it is they were imagining. (probably something along the lines of "hey, let's hit spoons together!")

A baby rump, and a baby belly (cross-wise)

On the left, we have Baby A, mooning the world On the right we have Baby B, looking like a cut of ham.

Extravagant gesture: take two

Wow, so we're having twins again! That seems pretty big. We're still trying to wrap our heads around the concept. I pulled out my multiples nutrition and birth book from off the shelf this morning and flipped through it looking for reminders as to how much more protein I need every day etc. (it's a lot). While I was skimming, I came acrosss a chapter that I found amusing. It was on the myriad of reactions that people usually feel after finding out they are carrying multiples.
They said typically, women (and men), go through four stages: Shock-- Denial-- Anxiety/Anger/Depression--Acceptance/Adaption. (It's interesting these are also the stages of grief and mourning).

I tried to recall my feelings from my first pregnancy and I think that it is quite possibly true that I went through a period where I felt all of these emotions distinctly. This time though I think I went a lot more quickly to the acceptance and adaption stage. I don't think that that is necessarily because I've been through it before and am thence prepared. I just think that what else can you really do. Leading up to the ultrasound I perhaps felt more anxiety, but the second I saw those two little heads I moved very quickly past emotion to "well that is that." I felt peaceful and a strong sense that God will provide for us as he always has done. Everything that needs to be done will be done and we will be blessed once again with two more babies that we will love and care for and who will bring exceeding joy and poop into our lives. Perhaps this peace was only due to the holy hour I made before the sonogram, but I am grateful for it.

who wants chowda?

This is reality in our home right now.

WARNING: Explicit Content

So... last night was crazy. Helena was very upset before bed, almost to the point of being inconsolable. We chalked it up to teething, and perhaps the strange acidic number 2 she dropped in her drawers right before bed. Bedtime went off without a hitch, and life continued as usual.

Until she woke up crying at 5AM...

Logan: "I think Helena's diaper is overflowing, could you grab another diaper?"

See, this isn't usual, but not unheard of. Sometimes they pee alot at night... While I'm getting the diaper from the next room I hear:

Logan: "Um... you'd better come get her..."

It seems as though the overflow was not urine-related, but was rather more sinister. And the sinister stuff was leaking out all over Helena's legs, the sheets, the comforter, and Logan. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. I get to work on the diaper aspect, Logan gets to work on the sheets. James gets to work on waking up and crying, and Helena gets to work on being a sad little miserable girl with diarrhea the consistency of pudding made from texas chili. See, the chili was the previous night's dinner, and I swear Helena must have eaten almost as much as I did. We surmise it was now tearing through her poor little innards, and we promised to never again repeat our mistake.

H. got a nice dip in the tub, Logan continued work on the sheets, and James, well he kept crying. Eventually everyone was clean and dry (except for James' eyes, pobrecito) but the bed was still poopy, so we decided to retreat to the guest bed (a double bed; we usually sleep in our King size swedish bed.... ahhhhh....) We hadn't all slept in that bed in several months, and the babies are decidedly larger now. It was tight. And James liked to kick. And Logan had to wake up in 30 min. to go to work. Who needs an alarm clock when you've got texas chili?

Things are calmer now, a night later. the babies are asleep in the guest bed, as our king bed is getting another treatment of stain removal. After a day of airing out, the smell was still lingering...

In other news, almond milk helps contribute to an excellent white russian.