Hi. I’m Beth, and I’m a mother of five.
If you’re new to this blog, head on over to this page created just for you which explains things in much less detail than the encyclopedia below.
OK, then. You were warned.
I like short walks on the beach. I might like long ones, but I can’t remember the last time I had time for one of those.
I started this blog for my dear, sweet friend who called me one day and said, “If I see one more blog full of pretty ballerinas, I’m going to vomit. Where are the blogs about kids smearing poop on the walls? Where’s your blog?” That made me laugh, as the truth often does, and started me on a mission.
I’m here for you: to provide the comic relief, the grimy truth, and the sweet reality of parenting. Hey – if it can’t be easy, at least it’s awesome.
Here’s my cast of characters:
Greg is my husband. He’s pretty great. I like him almost all the time.
As if putting up with me and our myriad children isn’t enough, he also has plans to protect us when the zombie apocalypse finally arrives. I rest my case, ladies.
Abby‘s our oldest. She was born in Vietnam and joined the family when she was nine weeks old. She made me a mommy, and I’m forever grateful. Abby is beautiful and graceful. (My ballerina. See? this blog’s not all poop-on-the-walls.)
She’s also sarcastic and hilarious. In fact, I blame Abby for the fact that we had four more children; if she wasn’t so great, we wouldn’t've gone and had more.
Ian’s next. He’s named after my dad. You can tell they’re related by they way they both clomp up and down the stairs and can’t regulate their volume. We adopted Ian from Guatemala when he was three and a half years old.
Aden’s our middle child. Her name means “fiery” and “beautiful.” Be very careful what you name your children is all I’m saying.
After adopting three kids, we decided to have one the old-fashioned way.
He came with a twin brother.
That’s OK; planning’s for sissies anyway.
You can challenge him to a laugh-off. You’ll see.
And Cael‘s our fifth; he was born three hours and seventeen minutes after Cai, which, for those of you keeping track at home, means that labor shut down after I delivered one baby, and I had to do it all over again from 6cm. That’s right. That happens. Still traumatized. Turns out, Cael’s my snuggler; as soon as Cai vacated my womb, he just snuggled himself right down and took a long winter’s nap.
I blame Cai’s and Cael’s matchy twin-names on lack of sufficient prep time and the fact that I choke under pressure.
Cael is my cautious and logical child. He’s as sweet as sugar dipped in honey and spread on a cracker.
And that’s it.
Just the 5 kids.
If you’re still reading, I have a gold star with your name on it and your invitation to Thanksgiving dinner ready to pop in the mail. (Love you, Mom.)