So I guess vacuuming is out...

Although Arwyn is a pretty good night-time sleeper, she just tends to catnap during the day. Thirty minutes here, twenty minutes there. Once in a while, if I'm lucky, she'll even give me an hour. She's also a light sleeper, which means the following loud noises are being banned from the house and surrounding neighborhood:

• The whisper of a two-year-old (do you know how LOUD it's possible to whisper??)
• The soft paper fasteners of a disposable diaper being undone
• The pressing of buttons on a TV remote in the next room
• The tiptoeing of a child on carpet upstairs
• The crinkle of foil when a Hershey's Kiss is being unwrapped
• The gentle whirring of a Razor scooter on pavement on the sidewalk outside

And if the #$@& cats don't stop rattling my bedroom door at five a.m. (I'm not even the one who feeds them anymore, Audrey is!), I swear I'm going to toss them outside.

How can I put it into words?

Spoiler alert! I have hidden this post, but if you really want to read it (and if I've done this works the way I meant it to) you can read it by highlighting the page.

I just finished it. I keep thinking I should write a true review, but I don't think I could do it justice. So you're just going to get my thought vomit that comes spewing forth in the aftermath. If you haven't read any of the book, some of it won't even make sense. Can't be helped.

Harry loses. And wins. And dies. And lives. The final battle was more fantastic than I could have imagined.

I cried, I really did, in the chapter where Harry realizes he has to die, finds the ring, and summons all the people he loved who have died: his parents, Sirius, and another (who I won't mention at the moment). And he asks them, "Will it hurt?" I just wept. And I cried when I saw what Harry named his second son (confused yet? Finish the book!)

Neville! What a hero. Severus Snape. I knew my guesses were right, but boy, Rowling sure kept me anxious until the end.

Dumbledore. A man of many secrets, and with his own share of failings. But a wiser, truer wizard never was.

Draco...unbelievable. Got far more than he deserved.

I still have questions that need answering. Who raised Teddy? In the end it doesn't seem like Harry did, though he should have since he was his godfather. Maybe he was just too young in the beginning, so Teddy went with...his grandmother? Also, Rowling said once there was a Squib or non-wizard who was able to do magic later in life, but I couldn't see who that was.

A final word in parting: rest in peace, Hedwig, Mad-Eye Moody, Dobby, Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora "Tonks" Lupin.

edited later to add...The more I think about Snape, the sadder I am for him. Harry had his mother's eyes. What was the last thing Snape said? He said to Harry "Look at me." He wanted her eyes to be the last thing he saw!!!

When I started reading this series 10 years ago, I had no idea how far I would get pulled in to it. It was "just kiddie lit", very good kiddie lit to be sure, but even then I had no idea how good. I have to say it: Jo Rowling is masterful. She is a story weaver of the highest order. Anyone now who says they "don't get they hype" of Harry Potter is missing the point (and probably has not even read the first chapter of Sorcerer's Stone). It's not hype. This story will endure.

I have it in my hot little hands

Although there were no fewer than three different public Harry Potter parties here in town last night, I didn't go to any of them. Some small children needed to be in bed by then, and besides, my copy was sitting safely at the public library, ready for me to pick it up this morning.

I set my alarm clock for 7:30, planning to get up, have breakfast, and be at the library at 8:30 when they opened. Well, I turned the alarm clock off and fell back asleep until 8:20. When I did wake up, I threw on some clothes, brushed my teeth, and jumped in the car.

When I got to the library, I saw a HP fan even more eager than myself. A little old lady with a walker, wearing a nightgown and slippers, was climbing into the passenger side of a car, clutching her copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I know you think I'm making this up for dramatic license, but I'm not. She was in. her. nightgown. And slippers. She'd just rolled out of bed and had her husband drive her over.

At least I got dressed first...

I rushed in, collected my copy, and rushed back out to read the first chapter in the car (I knew when I got home I would not have time to read for a while, due to the small children mentioned previously). I am a methodical reader, and I read the cover flaps and introductions and prologues of most books. The cover flap of this book was giving nothing away. It reads, simply, "We now present the seventh and final installment in the epic tale of Harry Potter."

I also felt compelled to read the table of contents. It looks like mugglenet.com was right on a few of their predictions, based on some of the chapter titles, like "Kreacher's Tale" and "Godric's Hollow". There is also one somewhat alarming chapter title called "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore".

Finally, I took a small peek at the last page, no, not to find out how it ended, but to see what the last word is (at one time Rowling said it was "scar", but changed it in editing since then.) The new last word was "well", which tells us nothing. However, I did glimpse the last two sentences, which told me whether Harry lives or dies. No matter. I knew it anyway. No other way it could possibly end. No, I won't tell you!

Now, the baby is napping, the kidlets are watching Saturday morning cartoons. I'm going to read a while.

mad parenting skilz

aka things i have learned how to do since becoming a parent

• type and use a mouse one-handed, including left-handed (skipping the shift key as much as possible)
• breastfeed while lifting a fork to my mouth (chopsticks, not so well)
• use the toilet while holding a baby (this includes unbuttoning, unzipping, pulling pants down, wiping, pulling pants up, buttoning, and zipping)
• read the paper and finish the sudoku of the day while listening to a 7-year-old retell every episode of spongebob squarepants and fairly odd parents known to man
• shower while holding a baby (enabled by this, and not something i prefer to do, but sometimes necessary)
• feed, bathe, and dress three children for church in the fifteen minutes since i realized the alarm clock did not go off
• figure out how to turn closed captioning on so i can figure out what's happening on tv despite the screaming of the child(ren)
• simultaneously read to the oldest, play with the toddler, and bounce the baby
  

Neighbor kids are freaking me out

Ok. On one hand, I've been glad Audrey now has friends near at hand to play with. There are three (sometimes four) little girls, ranging in age from four to ten, who come over and play a few times a week.

On the other hand...maybe because this is a new thing, maybe because even when I was a kid, we always played outside (and it was only boys to play with in my neighborhood), so I don't know what my own mom would have said. But anyway...these kids are driving me nuts!

Kid #1 is 10. Kids #2 and 3 are siblings, 8 and 4. Kid #4 is 8.

I prefer them to play outside, especially when they are all over here at once. I have a baby whose nap schedule is irregular, and I just tend to like it on the quiet side in my house. Now, granted, I shouldn't expect a terribly quiet house when I have three kids of my own. But this is exactly why I prefer them to all play outside. Three kids can be loud. Seven kids? Pandemonium.

Ever since I started making them play outside most of the time (and hello! it's SUMMER! And we do have shade trees!) the three oldest ones have been subtly rebelling. The 10-year-old once came while I was napping (Leo's sister was around, so there was still an adult awake) and since I was not around to shoo them outside, said that she had to play inside because she was going somewhere later and was not allowed to get sweaty.

(Insert a little eye-rolling here.)

Today the three oldest (and I have to say the four-year-old has never been anything but sweet...so far) were here. First they said it was too hot. Nope. It was a balmy 78 degrees, a pleasant evening. Then they tried to tell Audrey they were allergic to mosquitos (all of them). THEN one of the 8-year-olds said she was afraid she would get sick if she played outside (eh??). I firmly held my ground (since I felt I had previously not been firm enough) and made them stay outside.

(I do let them come in to use the bathroom or get a drink if they need to.)

The other thing, the thing that I think is going to be trouble, is the fact that one of the 8-year-olds (the one who apparently gets sick in 78 degree weather) has been bringing her *babysitter* over here with her to play. A high school girl. After the first time I met her a few days ago, I found out she (the babysitter) had already been here a couple of times. In my house. Without anyone telling me. Least of all the babysitter. I'm not sure if I was gone or just in another part of the house, but apparently it's become a routine for little miss 8 to come over HERE to play with her babysitter.

I have not been able to put my finger on exactly why this is wrong, but it just feels...wrong. I don't want to play host to a high school kid who is not MY babysitter (heck, who I don't even really know). I don't know if the 8-year-old's mom knows they are coming here, but it wouldn't surprise me (would explain a lot about her daughter). I guess I just think if someone is babysitting, they shouldn't take the kid to other people's houses uninvited. I don't care if the kid comes over, but...okay, someone, please, can you tell my why it's weird for the babysitter to come here?

Audrey's lucky number

Today is one of those rare, cool dates: July 7, 2007. 07/07/07. The seventh day of the seventh month of the seventh year of this millennium.

It's cooler yet for another reason: it's my oldest daughter's *seventh* birthday. She figured this out all by herself, all the sevens.

Happy birthday, my sweet seven-year-old. I will never forget the day you made me a mom.

No Lyme; Shanghai or bust for Aislinn and Leo

Aislinn's tests came back negative. Good thing too, because though the standard procedure is just a round or two of antibiotics, if Leo had to hear me give one more instruction on the care and feeding of his second daughter in the days before they left for China, I think he would have started to twitch.

But yesterday morning the three of us were up at 5:00, and Leo and Aislinn were out the door at 6:00. It's interesting to me that it's almost as stressful to plan someone else's international travel as it is to plan my own (and I wasn't even the one to book the tickets). Just getting up at that ungodly hour is almost enough to give me an ulcer. I went back to bed and slept until Arwyn woke me up around 8 or so.

I called Leo this morning; they are in Zhangjiagang staying with a good friend, a small town near Shanghai where we were living when we first got married. Aislinn was playing with some other kids when I called and seemed no worse for the wear, even having tossed her cookies in some turbulence in the descent into Shanghai.

I'm jealous that they are there and I am not, but so far we are doing fine here as well. Leo's sister is still here, and yesterday we made plans for who gets to escape which days. With the help of three bottles of breastmilk, I will get my first solo trip to Borders (now 45 minutes away) since Arwyn was born!

Happy Fourth, everyone. I'm celebrating some personal independence this week! Hope you are too.