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We just got back from 2 weeks up north. We only managed 3 visits to urgent care so next time we are going to try harder. Given that I flew up alone with the Jackson five, I figured it would be cake coming back with Rick along for the ride.

Except that we had to drive from the Jersey shore to JFK airport.

There was a lot of traffic that our GPS lady seemed to know nothing about  – although a special shout out to Ms. GPS for the lovely scenic tour through Brooklyn with 1-year-old Cash crying as our soundtrack.

Then we dropped off our rent-a-car, with a half ton of crushed cheese nips in the back, at Enterprise.

Where we were told we had to take a shuttle to an AirTrain to a lengthy walk to our terminal.

With 4 suitcases, 3 carseats, 4 carry ons and THE children.


This is Rick half way through that little journey…

rick on AirTrain JFK

We did finally get on the plane. With 10 minutes to spare. And there really is nothing like the relief on passengers’ faces when a family with 5 children makes it on board just before the doors shut. I could tell they were all rooting for us.

I love flying at night because it seems so peaceful…

cash on plane at sunset

I mean, except for 4-year-old Chase saying “I have to poop” for about an hour.

But because of take off and choppy air, I couldn’t take him.

I am a real stickler for following airline rules, so I kept saying, “Just a few more minutes Chase. We can’t get up yet.”

But I finally realized the kid was not going to make it to Ft. Lauderdale without a bathroom break so I eventually got up with the seatbelt light still on. I know. I haven’t felt that rebellious since I smoked clove cigarettes in my backyard in junior high.

We finally arrived and with only one lost bag, we made it home! I really never get too frustrated with airline travel because they fly you from one city to another. In a big plane. With snacks and television. And that seems like some sort of unexplainable magical phenomenon so I can’t get too upset over a missing bag.

We really had an amazing vacation.  We saw so many great friends and family and it made me miss everyone all the more.  I was happy to be back in our own beds in Florida but it just doesn’t quite feel like home. At least not yet.

My friend Meredith sent me this photo to help me feel better….

parker in the snow

That’s her daughter. Thigh deep in snow. Sometime this past winter.

Yeah, that helps. A lot.


Usually in a couple, there is one person who is the worrier. If possible, you want to be the non worrier.

Then you can spend your life thinking about whether baby North’s diamond earrings are big enough


and you don’t have to spend your life stressing about the state of the world, whether your children are safe and how often you should reapply sunscreen.

Unfortunately, I am the worrier in the relationship. This is a huge burden. I don’t want to be the worrier. Sometimes I say to my husband, “Why don’t you worry more?” And he says, “Because you have it covered!”

Great. Now I have to worry about everything I normally worry about, plus everything he should be worrying about.

But once in awhile I get a break. Like a few weeks ago when four of my kids discovered this awesome game where they threw laundry over our 2nd floor railing. Then they ran down, retrieved it and did it again.  (Not as great a game as actually doing the laundry but it did keep them busy for quite awhile). I thought the whole thing was funny and sent Rick a photo.

Here are the twins throwing laundry over the ledge…

twins throwing laundry 1

(I had to edit out their adorable nakedness.)

Rick thought this game looked dangerous – envisioning one of the twins toppling over the banister but I really wasn’t worried.

Wait – I just became the non-worrier! This is so freeing! So liberating!! I love this new me. Rick can anxiously concern himself with our children’s safety. I’ll just sit back, enjoy life and know that he’s got it covered.

And I was really enjoying this new role of mine…  until we went to the busy Atlantic City boardwalk with 8 kids (four of ours plus some cousins) at night and I was on full alert trying to keep track of them.

atlantic city

One was lagging behind. One was too far ahead. Wait, how many did we have in the beginning?

Damn, I just became the worrier again.

It was a good run while it lasted.


Thank you to Leigh Ann Torres for including me in her piece on Hilarious Moms Around the Web! Of course, she featured my good friend Wendi Aarons first on the list which is why I’m changing my name to Kelcey Aaakintner.

You can also find me on Lifetime Moms writing about Kanye & Kim’s baby’s newly pierced ears and also check out my piece on Books Girls Love on Alpha Mom.


I first flew on a plane by myself with five kids from Ft. Lauderdale to New York. And then installed three carseats when I got there. All by 11:08 AM. Next time, I’m going to try to beat my time and do all that by 11:05 AM.

Once we were at my mother’s house, my 1-year-old discovered that dog toys are like baby toys. Only better for some reason.

My 1-year-old also acquired a taste for rawhide.

My mother told me she wants to discuss what happens to her ashes.

I told her we can put them wherever she wants but just not at my house because ashes sound messy and I’m still cleaning up coffee grinds she left behind awhile back.

7-year-old Summer spent the week on the counter because she’s terrified of my mother’s dogs.  She ate, played and practically slept there…

summer on counter 1


summer on counter 2

They are terrifying dogs…

mom's dogs

Well, they don’t look scary but their names are frightening.

Their names are Lilly and Snoopy.

See what I mean?

I found out that my tendency for leaving the fridge and freezer door open is obviously genetic.

freezer door

My mother could not recall her wifi network or her password. Apparently her computer guy knows but he was vacationing in Puerto Rico where I’m pretty sure he had wifi.

When my mother says, “You can leave the backdoor open for a bit. No bugs ever come in,” what she really means is… “I don’t notice when bugs come in.”

I had my birthday dinner at the exact same restaurant as I celebrated my 13th birthday (and many birthdays in between).

I learned that sometimes it’s just so good to be home.

mom with twins



From the moment you became a father to our first daughter Dylan…



And then again to our daughter Summer…


And then yet again to our twins Chase and Harlowe…

rick with twins

And just one more time with baby Cash…


I knew you were made for this…


Happy Father’s Day to the most amazing husband and father. (And you were right – we needed the king size bed.)

And to my father and all the other dads out there, thanks for everything you do. xo


(One of my favorite photos of my dad… 1981)



Pack quickly. I have a knack for packing so slowly, that it becomes a 3 day extravaganza.  Set a timer for 30 minutes and GO. No breaks until the timer goes off. That means no checking Facebook, no Tweeting, no sips of Prosecco, no scribbling down your thoughts on meteorites in the universe.

Do not tell your children, “Pull out some clothes to bring!” because they will pull out leg warmers, a ski parka from 3 years ago, rain boots, a faux rabbit fur scarf, a hula skirt, a Santa hat, a white glove, Mardi Gras beads and pink neon hair spray.

Instead, direct them to pull out 5 shirts, 4 pairs of shorts, one sweater, 4 sets of pajamas, 5 pairs of underwear and a bathing suit. They will forget many of this because they will spend most of their time searching for their favorite Superman pajamas that they haven’t worn in 5 months but now CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT.

Edit their piles of clothes, removing the sombrero and the Barbie dream house. Throw it all into a suitcase and zip it up before they can shove other stuff in. They will try to convince you that each kid needs their own suitcase. Do not bother explaining that you aren’t showing up at the airport with 5 separate suitcases. Just say, “Great idea. Maybe next trip! High five! I have something to show you downstairs!”

Now you have to pack for yourself which is difficult because you forgot to do your own laundry. That sort of leaves you with your second tier clothes. Remove a couple items that are your favorites from the laundry basket – you can clean these while on vacation (you won’t).

Pull out the other clothes from the closet. You will forget something major. Like a bra. Or contacts. Or a bathing suit. The sooner you accept this, the better things will go. But try to remember shoes.

Oh wait, your kids’ shoes! Run around collecting some of them (if they match all the better!) and shove them in the childrens’ suitcase.

Pack toiletries for everyone. This will include a nearly empty bottle of shampoo, 47 hairbands and sunscreen.

Time to pack up a bag for the plane. You need food. You need lollipops, you need books (real ones with pages that turn instead of swipe), DVD players, headphones, crayons and paper.

What you don’t need: whatever book you are reading because if you have any kid under 2, you won’t be reading. You will be pacing up and down the aisles, waiting for the child to poop so you can cram yourself into an airplane bathroom and change him/her. If you’re lucky maybe your child will poop twice! Hey, at least it’s an activity.

Congratulations! You have finished packing. Now all you have to do is travel.

mama bird notes:

Join me again for ABC’s “Bet on Your Baby” where parents try to win college money by guessing their toddler’s next move. And these kids are ridiculously cute and funny. Follow me as I live-tweet ABC’s @betonyourbaby tomorrow (Saturday) @ 8pm EST while also supporting Children’s Miracle Network Hospitals.  

Also this week, I’ve been at Lifetime Moms writing about a woman who dared breastfeed at her college graduation. The nerve! And also, a Wake Me Up When I’m Skinny shirt for pregnant women. Is it funny or offensive?

P.S. I don’t know why my blog looks weird (if it still does). I’m working on fixing it. And by “working on it”, I mean madly emailing my tech person who is probably already on vacation.

kelcey kintner


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