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Ten Top Memories from Our Great Lakes Adventure

***I found this post in the depths of my yet-to-be-finished archives from our epic adventure in the fall of 2013.  These are precious, unforgettable memories for me.  So even if not one person besides myself (and my dad who will receive this post via email because I make him read my blog) sees this, it will be okay.  Because I want to have this down for posterity.***

In case you didn't know, my blog hiatus during the month of September was due largely in part to our second annual fall trip [of mammoth proportions].  Last year, we spent a couple of weeks touring the beautiful sights of New England.  This year, we made a similar northern journey only more westward and in the counter-clockwise direction into Canada and around the eastern three Great Lakes.

Just wanted to give you your morning geography lesson.  To be honest, that part of the northern hemisphere is not my forte.  And it just gets worse as you go west.  Frankly, I need to study up on my geography altogether.

(There I go again on another irrelevant tangent...oops.  Bear with me, the next one actually has something to do with this post.)

A few days ago, Sam did a factory restore on my phone to try to stop it from continuously and spontaneously turning off.  Before doing it, he backed up my contacts and emailed me the memos I had saved on it, just in case any of them were important.  This morning I sat down to read the one in which I'd written all of the "funny" things that happened on the road this September.

Last year, I attempted to chronicle each stop on the trip with a full blog post of its own.  Not sure I'm going to do that this year.  I have pictures as memories.  Ben and Abby have their travel journals.  But these random tidbits from our travels?  Priceless.  And you don't remember these from pictures or travel journals.  (Man, I love that little memo function.)

Thirteen Funnies from The Great Lakes Adventure of 2013

1.  Ben's commentary on Long Island traffic

Maybe we dawdled in White Marsh, MD at my parents house for too long.  It was obvious we were in no real hurry to get to Long Island for Sam's business obligation.  After a quick lunch at a NJ turnpike service area and no traffic whatsoever, we crossed the Verrezano Bridge and immediately came to a standstill on Long Island.  At 2:30 in the afternoon.  Because of construction.  And with each passing minute, visions of rush hour danced in our heads.  Of course, we were stuck there for hours (on the bright side, we had plenty of time to do some schoolwork).  We sat there in complete and total gridlock watching people trying to merge onto the road and watching people drive over medians to try to escape the madness.

Ben looked out the window and with his usual stoicism declared, "People are just driving off the road."  Yes, son.  Traffic rules are optional here, it appears.

A few moments later, a motorcycle zoomed down the striped line between cars at no less than 80mph.  Ben commented, "It'd be nice if we could do that too."  This, of course, prompted a delirious bout of laughter as I imagined our family of six with luggage aboard a long line of crotch rockets driving illegally down the center line of a Long Island highway.

Then, his most profound observation - "This is called rush hour?  It should be called slow hour."

2.  Ben's 10

We celebrated Ben's tenth birthday at the Residence Inn in Plainview, NY.  This was the one day on the trip that Sam had a work obligation, so we woke up at our leisure, turned on the television, and much to Ben's chagrin, Ben 10 was on the tv.  This prompted an "Aww, man.  Ben 10!" from our own Ben 10, and thus resulted in us calling him Ben 10 ad nauseum for the rest of the day.  (FYI - Feel free to call him this if you see him.  He really likes it.)

Lest a 10th birthday at a random Long Island hotel sound lame, rest assured, he had the "best birthday ever."  Lunch at Chili's, a new Kindle, a Minecraft t-shirt, a giant chocolate chip cookie cake, and two pools to swim in.  Life is good.


3.  What's an Adirondack chair?

As we approached our first stop at the caves and natural stone bridge in Pottersville, NY (connection to It's a Wonderful Life, I'm not sure), we passed straight through the Adirondack mountains.  I said, "I bet they have a lot of Adirondack chairs around here."  Sam inquired as to what one of those was.  I said, "You know.  It's like a rocker.  That doesn't rock."  To which Sam replied, "So...it's like a regular chair?"  Maybe I was already delirious at that point, but I nearly died laughing.


4.  My Gringo Kids

Clearly, we've never been out of the country before.  Not even to French-speaking Canada.  The prospect of people speaking a foreign language just blew my kids' minds.  (Okay, it was a pretty big deal for this exclusively-English-speaking girl too.)  At our first hotel in Montreal, after merely passing through a lobby of French-speaking natives, we went downstairs to check out the pool.  Abby noted that there was no hot tub and inquired, "Do they even know what a hot tub is?"  As if, because they speak another language, the people of Quebec are stuck behind the Iron Curtain.  Oh Abby.

The next morning we used our reciprocal science museum membership to go to the Montreal Science Center.  In a word, it rocked.  There was an awesome area for the kids to play, and Abby (being our social butterfly) naturally flocked to the other little girls in the room.  Then she realized they were speaking French and she came over to inquire, "Are there any normal girls here?"  Nice.


For Sam, driving in Montreal took some getting used to.  (Okay, so it's not just our gringo kids...)  I should say that he was absolutely cool, calm, and collected because credit is totally due...especially considering that almost every road we needed to travel on was closed or under construction and all of the signs.  We spent most of our time on the roads frantically (okay, maybe that was just me) trying to figure out what "Barre" meant.  In the words of Ben (who, bless his heart, was trying to take it all in), "I can't read!" 

5.  Humorous Highways

The roads across Canada proved entertaining for Sam and me.  As we traversed the great continent, we saw a sign that warned of a "Paint Test Area" and lo and behold the next section of road was splattered with all colors and designs of paint.  (They made a sign for that?!)  Upon entering each new province, there were gigantic signs outlining the penalties for speeding.  Just in case you were wondering, at 20km/hr over, they will take your car and fine you $10,000.  That might not be so bad if it didn't feel like you were crawling along the highways.  We must be used to the 70mph speed limits of Georgia.  (But seriously, dang.)  In case you're ever in Ontario looking for some good, old-fashioned family fun, there's a Ponderosa Family Nudist Resort just one exit from the children's museum.  Sam and I had a great time...talking about what a trip like that would be like.  We didn't actually go there.

It wasn't all Canada, however.  As we re-entered upstate New York, we were warned by this sign, "Prison Area.  Do not pick up hitchhikers!"

6.  Girls and the Garden

We must have walked a million miles in Montreal, half of which were on the grounds of the Le Jardin botanique de MontrĂ©alAbsolutely gorgeous botanical gardens and the day was even more beautiful (even if the entire province decided to visit that very same day).  


We didn't take a stroller on the trip and being seven months pregnant, I couldn't do much Leah-toting.  So Sam strapped her on in the Ergo carrier and those two became two peas in a pod for the duration.  Of course, Sarah was the first of our walkers to tire out, and so often times the scene was like this:  Sam with Leah strapped on the front carrier and with Sarah on his shoulders.  To make it even more sensational, Sarah was typically riding with two fingers in her mouth and the other hand in her belly button.  I followed behind encouraging Ben and Abby to keep up (because "Ain't nothing going to break Sam's stride, Ain't nothing going to slow him down, Oh no, He's got to keep on movin').  Due to my vantage point, I got to enjoy the stares, grins, and elbow-pokes of strangers who were most entertained by the stackable girls.  How I wish I'd taken a picture of that.

At the end of the Botanical Gardens day, we took a quick peek at the Insectarium.  What is that?  Well, it's a building full of dead bug exhibits.  Maybe we were underwhelmed because we were exhausted.  Maybe we just don't really care for dead bugs (or living ones either).  At any rate, Leah decided to make it a little more exciting by squeezing behind some of the glass display boxes, where only a one year old could fit.  Needless to say, some of the patrons got a peek at a really big bug through the glass.  (In case you're wondering, Sam extracted her with his long arms while Ben and I cordoned off the exits.)

7.  Navigating the Thousand Islands

I guess it's unusual to see a family with four kids roaming about tourist attractions on weekdays in September.  We got to hang out with lots of retirees.  Nevertheless, it was nice of the cruise boat tour guide in the Thousand Islands to acknowledge our kids.  He said into his microphone, "You've been good kids, so you get a reward.  What do you want?"  Uhhh...open ended much?  I can answer that for you.  Ben wants an X-Box, Abby and Sarah want Barbies or maybe tickets to Disneyworld, and Leah wants food - any variety.  Who knew our tour guide was also Santa Claus?!  Perhaps he could have better worded that as, "You've been good kids.  Would you like to steer the boat for a little while?"  Thank goodness they all just stood there and blankly stared at him.  That could have been awkward.




I learned a fun fact from Wikipedia while traversing the St. Lawrence river that day.  I shared it with Sam.
Me:  Did you know that the St. Lawrence was once seemingly irreversibly polluted.  They used threw zebra mussels in and they cleared it right up.
Sam:  They threw zebra muscles in the river?  (Gross.)

Those darn homophones.  Get you in trouble every time.

8.  Shortcuts on September 11

We were in Buffalo, NY on September 11.  Our hotel was literally across the street from the airport (an ongoing theme for the trip).  As we checked out en route to Niagara Falls the next morning, instead of having us make a u-turn, our GPS instructed us to take a few left hand turns...through the airport parking lot...where there were traffic stops, policemen, and bomb-sniffing dogs set up to search and question every vehicle.  Imagine our embarrassment when we rolled down the window and when the policeman asked what our business was at the Buffalo airport that day all we had to say was, "We're just trying to get to Niagara Falls."  In his thick New York accent, the kindly policeman said, "Oh geez, just pull over here.  Where are you folks from?  Georgia?  Alright, I'll tell you how to get to Niagara Falls."  He then proceeded to speak very slowly for us Georgia folks, giving us complete directions including vigorous hand gestures.  "You'll go over two bridges."  Then he made an arm motion to show us how the bridges were shaped.  He seriously probably thought we wouldn't know what a bridge was if he didn't draw us an air picture.  After all, we did seem to think we'd find Niagara Falls in the Buffalo airport parking lot.  In all honesty, he was very nice and his directions were spot on had we not had our trusty GPS.  Sam and I could barely keep a straight face the whole time he was talking.  It was a good day for a little levity.  We hope he felt the same way.

9.  The Crow's Nest is for the Birds

When we finally made it out of the parking lot and to Niagara Falls, we did everything.  We were poncho wearing fools like the rest of the tourists.  After braving the Hurricane Deck at the Cave of Winds and surviving the boat ride on the Maid of the Mist, we were pretty tired of our plastic apparel.  Ben, Abby, Sarah, and I all tossed those jokers right into the recycling bin on the boat ramp as we disembarked.  What we didn't realize was that there was an optional path along the way back to the elevators that took you up to what is referred to as "The Crow's Nest."  What is that, you ask?  It's a boardwalk that comes to a summit just a few feet from the falls where the water that's hitting you feels like a pressure washer on your skin.  We walked up that path.  With no rain gear.  And as we reached the top, Sarah crying hysterically, Sam turned around with Leah strapped to him and from the comforts of his poncho said, "Oh.  Where are your ponchos?"  Oops.  #momfail  We decided right then to call it a day and walked our soggy bottoms (and soggy everything else) back to the car.  But not before we got a stranger to take a dripping wet picture of us.  In retrospect?  Hilarious.



10.  Canadian Hooters

We made the trip across the US/Canada border for our final time that trip where we dried off (and played with the automatic shoe shiner...yes I'm serious) in our room.


Then we went out for some lunch at the closest place to our hotel (because we were tired of walking and being in the car).  That place was Hooters.  (Don't judge.)  Apparently, at Hooters in Canada they don't trim that inedible part off of the wing before they fry it and serve it up.  Abby received her plate full of wings and with a look of contempt, held one up and said, "I'm not eating this.  It looks like a gun."  I have no picture to prove it, just use your imagination.  

As I look back through the photos, I am thrilled with the memories we made.  I doubt that the kids will remember every detail of these trips, I know I won't, but if nothing else, they'll remember them as good times, I know I will.

Too bad it's practically irrelevant now...four months later and I suddenly have so much to say about this trip!  Hey, at an average of four months to write a single post I ought to be able to crank out at least one more this year! 

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13 Reasons My Newborn *MIGHT* Be an Old Man

It's cool.  I love old men (and I mean that in as non-creepy a way possible).

13 Reasons Noah Might Be an Elderly Man

He is completely oblivious to the fact that the clothes on his body don't match at all.  
(Hey, we don't care either.  Yay hand-me-downs!)

He passes gas and carries on.

His earlobes are totally floppy.

He falls asleep sitting up...and just in the strangest positions in general.

He's got hairy ears.  (Of course, his are fuzzy and cute.)

He gets pretty grumpy (understatement of the year) when it's time to eat and dinner isn't ready (because it's running around the kitchen trying to get dinner ready for the other six people in the house and it "only" took an hour and forty-five minutes to finish the easy meal that was prepped the night before).

He has a receding hair line.

The hair that he does have?  Out of this world.

He's got a little bit of a staring problem.

He makes audible grunting noises when he changes positions.

He snores like a lumberjack.  (Or a sweet, purring kitten, maybe.)

He wears diapers.  (Sorry, it's true.)

Chicks dig him.
 
(Dudes dig him too.  This boy doesn't need a bath because he's constantly showered in kisses.)

I did it!  I posted a blog post!  Phew.  I'm exhausted.  Time for another cup of coffee and to pound out a couple of school assignments with the kids.  Have a great day, all!  Stay warm.

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Merry Christmas, Happy New Year! (And Happy 1 Month, Noah!)

Well, my fine friends, 2013 has come and nearly gone.  I hope that your holidays have been absolutely splendid.  We are still in the throes of our Christmas vacation, so spending a bunch of time blogging is not an option.  However, I wanted to send out our Christmas newsletter to each and every one of my adoring fans dear, blog-reading friends, even if only virtually.  If you care to read the "really important" memorable moments from the past year, follow this link -   

Our 2013 Christmas Letter

And if you don't...pshh...your loss.  (Ha!)

Happy Last-Couple-of-Days-of-2013 from my family to yours!!


And Happy One Month Birthday to my adorable, fussy-pants Noah!   


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Presenting Shep5...

When I last posted, I suggested that my next post might be a birth story.  I didn't expect that it would be nearly December before Shep5 would arrive, nor did I anticipate that it would take me over two weeks to get the birth story down "on paper" (though I'm sure I should have what with all the free-time and extra energy mothers of newborns plus four others have, especially approaching Christmas - ha!).  At any rate, I am stringing together my spare moments today, few and far between though they may be, to tell the story.

On Wednesday, November 27th, the day before Thanksgiving, I felt generally crummy.  I contracted off and on all day long, but like all the other days I'd done that things settled down when I took a break to rest.  My parents were here, and they took care of the big kids for me while I lamented (not-so-quietly) the fact that I was still pregnant four days past my due date.  As much as I know a due date is not an "expiration date," there is something about seeing that date on the calendar come and go that just does not do my mental well-being any good.  When hormones are raging out of control, my back is hurting, my lungs are straining, and I'm just bone tired, all I want is to have that baby out of me.  I'm not one of those moms who loves being pregnant, especially in the last trimester.  I'm always happy to trade the discomforts of late pregnancy for a sweet, tiny newborn.  And the amount of patience I have while waiting for the baby is directly proportional to the number of days until my due date.

When Sam got home from work, he took me out on a date.  We hit up Panera, Rite-Aid (for their awesome sale on diapers), and Big Lots (because I really do love that store).  Sam was still hungry after our Panera dining experience so he got himself some chicken tenders at Zaxby's.  (This is relevant eventually.)  I continued having mild contractions just about every 20-30 minutes, but not close enough or strong enough to care too much about.

That night around midnight, just as soon as it turned "Thanksgiving Day," I laid in bed knowing full well I was going into labor on my own.  My contractions were ramping up slightly in intensity and were coming every twenty minutes (like, I could have set a clock by it).  This didn't warrant running to the hospital, so I took my second long, hot shower of the night to help me relax and I tried to get some sleep.  I was able to sleep through many of the contractions, but I would hardly call it my best night's rest ever.  The next morning, I could hear my parents getting breakfast ready for the kids and my mom was no doubt starting Thanksgiving dinner preparations.  I got up and took another shower and told Sam he needed to call his mom.  My contractions were every ten minutes apart, and my doctor made me promise I would call her when they got to that point.  Since this was my fifth pregnancy and delivery, she was fairly confident things would progress quickly (to the point that she actually advised me to keep a shoelace and some extra blankets in my car "just in case" we didn't make it to the hospital).  With that on my brain, and not wanting to deliver my own baby in the backseat of either of our vehicles, I called the doctor who told me she'd meet me at the hospital (despite the fact that it was Thanksgiving Day and she wasn't even "on call").  I told my parents Sam and I were heading to the hospital and that I'd keep them posted.

We got there about 10am.  By the time I checked in and they took me back to the room, it was 10:30.  After a thorough history, hooking up my IV, checking my cervix (I was at 6cm), and some carefree chit-chat with the nurses (who, by the way, were super sweet despite working on a holiday), my doctor came in to break my water at noon.  At that point, my contractions were about four or five minutes apart and increasing in intensity.  (Please don't ask me what number on a pain scale of 1-10 because I honestly do not know how to answer that question.)  When she broke my water, there was "thick mec," which means that the baby had passed their first stool in utero.  This is concerning if the baby aspirates that fluid and it gets in their lungs during delivery.  When I delivered Ben, my water had meconium in it as well, so I wasn't super concerned, but unlike with Ben my doctor ordered a fluid flush to help clear the nasties out of my uterus and also ordered pitocin as an additional precaution (Nooooo!!!!) because the baby's head did not come down after breaking my water the way all of my others had.  This is a concern because a floating head leaves room for the cord to deliver first which can be extremely dangerous to the baby.

As of noon, I texted my dad and told him he might as well put Leah down for a nap and I'd let him and my mom know as things progressed when they should bring the kids over.  Sam's mom had just arrived at the hospital.  

As expected, the breaking of the water caused the intensity of labor to ramp up significantly, but it was compounded by the introduction of the fluid pumping through my uterus and the pitocin.  I continued laboring for about an hour when I started sweating profusely.  I could no longer talk through my contractions.  And my daggone hair would not stay up in its ponytail (funny the things that we remember...).  Sweet Sam retrieved me cool washcloth after cool washcloth and physically fanned me off with whatever he could find and my nurse fetched a giant floor fan and pointed it straight at me.  It reminded me of those giant misters that football players stand by on the sidelines.  It definitely helped.  A few minutes later, tired of hurting and succumbing to the pain, I told Sam to get the nurse because I needed an epidural.  He convinced me to let her check me because he didn't want me to have the same regrets as I did with Sarah's delivery (I had the epidural for less than ten minutes before she was born).  The nurse checked me and I was nearly complete.  She told me if I pushed a bit with my next contraction I could clear the rest of the cervix away.  All I wanted was for her to get her hand out of "there," and I'm pretty sure I told her that.  (Laboring women aren't very nice.)  Lo and behold, I was complete and ready to push, and I didn't need the nurse to tell me that.  There would be no epidural - and I was actually relieved.  During Leah's delivery the amazing almost-midwife nurse that attended me told me that at the point in a drug-free delivery when you feel like you can't do it anymore, you're almost there.  She was right.  I should have known.  With my next contraction, I said, "I'm going to push!"  My doctor providentially walked in the room at that particular moment, heard the report from the nurse, took one look at me and said, "Don't push yet!  Someone get me some gloves.  We need to break this bed down.  Do we have a supply cart?!  Get the Stork Squad (pediatrician) up here!"  I didn't really care if she had gloves on or not.  This baby was coming out and I was not going to not push.  The frantic movement of the techs and my doctor and the nurse at the other end of the room didn't faze me in the slightest.  I needed that baby out.

Somehow, the team managed to get the bed broken down and my doctor got gloves on her hand in time for three or four tremendous pushes during the course of which I definitely said the words "I can't!" and screamed out loud, both of which my doctor chastized me for ("Yes you can!!!" and "Stop screaming!  Just push!").  Within minutes of requesting that epidural, at 1:27pm, there on my belly was a beautiful new baby with a head full of fuzzy blond hair.  I laid there in a state of exhaustion and looked at Sam and said, "What is it?!"  And with a smile, he said, "It's a boy."  It is amazing the relief and euphoria that comes just seconds after that baby is delivered.  It's indescribable.  Seconds prior I was screaming, quitting, ready to pack up and go home.  Then suddenly I was completely relaxed for the first time in months.

Sam cut the cord, and they checked our little boy out.  I could hear the doctor and nurses cleaning him up and commenting on how big he was.  "I bet he's nine pounds!"  I had no idea.  I really was not expecting either a boy or a giant baby.  Shows you how much mother's intuition is worth.  Ha!  When they finally weighed and measured him he was 9 pounds 13 ounces and 22 inches long.  He scored an 8 and 9 on the Apgar test just like all of his siblings.  He was delivered face-down (the way God intended them to be born).

Sam went out and made the announcement to the kids and grandparents in the waiting room.  

My favorite part of the day was seeing the whole family march in to meet him.


And even though it might embarrass him someday, I want to commemorate the tears of joy on sweet Ben's face.  I don't know that anyone has ever been happier to meet their baby brother.

Okay, actually, they're all pretty smitten.

Even Leah.

And that's the story of Noah Matthew Sheppard.  
Our precious Turkey.

We are praising God for a safe delivery and a healthy baby boy.  We are so blessed.

Edited to add the relevance of the Zaxby's chicken tenders (that's what I get for trying to write a coherent blog post at 1am) - I had a bunch of people ask how the hospital's turkey and dressing was.  Because Noah was born after "lunchtime," I missed out on turkey and dressing...but they did give me a turkey sandwich around 2pm.  That counts, right?  Poor Sam didn't get to eat anything until around 4pm that day, and naturally, nothing much was open except for Cracker Barrel (so it turns out he had a nice, solo, sit-down meal on Thanksgiving Day).  As it turns out though, he joked that he was glad he'd stopped for those tenders because he really would have been hungry if he hadn't had those to tide him over.  And that's the story of the chicken tenders.  It's as if he knew...  Ha!

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Fewer Words Wednesday (Because we all know I don't "do" wordless)

Rather than focus on the recent failure that was my "Facebook hiatus," I'm going to instead do a brief report on the best days of our life.

The ones that look like this:

Being able to launch and re-launch and take home a rocket for the first time in four years at the annual RA rocket launch.

 Being able to literally lay down during school lessons, because, for some reason, this works for our wiggle worm.

Being able to take creative license with the way toys are actually supposed to be played with...

Being able to emulate your big sister.  For better or for worse.

Exhibiting OCD tendencies early on - by ordering the cleaning products from under the sink in a nice, neat row while Mommy tends to something in the next room for a total of 15 seconds.

Prepping for Shep #5 (10 days and counting until the due date, folks!)

Quality sister time on the backyard swing...clothing optional, smiles required.

Monday mornings.  The same whether you're 7, 27, or 57.

One on one time with this girl, her reaching arms, and her sad little plea of "Bees!" (which is please to the unacquainted listener).

The unfailing smiles and imagination of this girl and her potato chips in a backyard hideaway.

Today was a great day.

And as the clock ticks down on our time as a family of a mere six - I feel the need to vocalize how abundantly blessed I realize that I am.


So to that lady at the grocery store tonight who scoffed at me and my ginormously pregnant belly as I tossed two little girls into a car cart for a speed run through Publix, I say this - maybe you "don't miss those days" because you didn't realize what you had while you had it.  Maybe I agree when you say, "Better you than me," because even on the hard days, I know that these babies are a gift that God has lent to me but for a short time and I'm able (in retrospect at least) to appreciate their charm and wit and shenanigans and pure, unadulterated love for each other and for Sam and me.

For now, I wait (however impatiently and uncomfortably) for the arrival of our newest blessing.  And I pray that he or she will know from the moment they are born that they have been loved from the moment we found out they existed.  They have a home in our family.  And we are so glad God chose us for him or her.

(Hey, if you've got a minute or two and care to wager a guess as to the arrival stats of Shep#5, click here.)

Hopefully my next post will be a birth story.......but I'm not going to get my hopes up that it will be within the next 10 days.  I've been burned too many times with unwarranted optimism.  (Such is life as a cynic, I suppose!)  Hope you've all been blessed in (but not necessarily because of) my absence! 



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