Celebration day!

Tis the season for celebrations, just about. Anyway, one of us was pretty happy about having three new Yankee fans to celebrate good times with. This photo may prove distasteful to some, but then how can you resist? Join us.

The family that roots together…

Boo!

Here comes trouble

I walked into to the boys’ room last night to find this:

coupla October photos

These from today. I will post more soon. How’d I let a whole month slip by?

give us our daily bread

mama and Satch

September photo dump

Hi everyone,

I neglect and neglect the blog, and yet when I see people they say “I love your blog!” Which fills me with guilt. But no-one seems to notice the extent to which Sax and Sons has slowed down, or they politely refrain from scolding me (because after all, I have my hands full). Alex, the boys and I are soldiering on into fall. We are both back teaching, and life is a general mayhem, albeit a joyful one. We are sleep deprived, but we don’t have the boys to blame for it. It’s that illusion we sustain of being able to keep the same balls in the air that we used to juggle effortlessly in our new family situation. So the boys go down at six or six thirty or seven, and then we launch furiously into our frenzy of Getting Things Done. These things include, making bottles, making dinner, cleaning and cleaning, preparing for school, being disappointed that we are not better prepared for school, attending to our various pressing artsy fartsy projects, and getting ourselves into bed. The other night we went down at 10 and got a full 8 hours of sleep for the first time in I don’t know how long. But sleep deprivation is a curious animal. When you give the body a taste, she wants more and more and more, so we woke up groggy, if still somehow refreshed on a cosmic level, and launched back at it. On days like this I lay down Family Proclamations: We will get 8 hours of sleep every night henceforward. Alex and the boys give me this look that says, you silly, silly man. And the beat goes on.

We have had a parade of visitors, we’ve done some traveling, and yesterday, finally, for the first time this summer – the one that’s quickly fading from our grasp – we hauled ourselves and a good third of our worldly possessions (for that’s what it takes) out to the beach. It was somehow easier than we expected it would be, but that is because we had a host of willing and eager helpers. It is not so hard to manage triplets when you have six or seven adults and a few pre-teens on hand.

So now the photo dump. But lest I leave you with the impression that shepherding our happy troika into the next decade is leaving us worse for the wear, I’ll offer this general summary: we are happy and tired, overwhelmed by cuteness, sweetness, and rare fits of unexplained screaming. We sometimes worry the trash man won’t collect our offerings – and who ever guessed a bag of doodie could be quite so hefty? Wait, I digress… photos!

Meema and the boys

Marge and Satch

Pablo's hat goes to the sea

Roadside stop on I95

Uncle Ian and Cousin Leo join the fun

Brady Bunch reunion in August

Omi and the boys

Liam and Sheila share a book with the gang

Jerry, Korliss, Katya, Alex and the limo

Family fun

gotta start em young

Katya has it all under control

swingers

Pablo and Levi at the beach!

Alex, Karen, Pabs, Levi and Will at the beach

Breakfast please!

Toast!

The boys are nine months old! We celebrated with some toast…

Two boys in a crib

Surprise ending – wait for it!

Sunday morning

I have a bunch of pics for you, but on this bright Sunday morning I feel the need to share this one most of all.

I don’t want to work…

Greetings faithful, patient readers. I shan’t waste space with my sorry excuses for non-blogginess. I’m here now, fresh off witnessing the artistic milestone represented in the video above. As my mother will confirm, there is a deep karmic rightness to Pablo’s precociousness on the snare drum, since I spent my formative years bashing away on silver pearl Ludwig drums scant feet below the spot where mama slept (or didn’t). Of course I’m biased, but it’s clear the boy’s got talent, no? I was nowhere near this skilled at 8.5 months – though probably louder.

In any case, I’ve got the little man right here with me, nestling and eager, and I better see to his lunch. The others are exer-saucering away and it won’t be long before their small bellies join in the growling.

High summer

It is late July, a time when there is probably no better place on earth to be than our fair slice of the northeastern coast. Papa has happily reintegrated himself into family life, his globetrotting spurt behind him. Here are a couple of snapshots from yesterday.

lounging about

Levi in mama's hat

a little sun

it's the little things in life