Eden
Pierce
Sterling
Charlotte
Eden
Liberty
Charlotte
Liberty
Sterling
Charlotte
Eden
Ruby
Sterling
Ruby
Liberty
Pierce
LibertyThis eight year old girl fails to hit the limelight very often. She’s too predictable, too even-tempered, too behind-the-scenes. Lovely, edible, tasty scenes like the fudge cookies she made this week. Twice. Or the beer bread she mixed up and baked for a side to our soup the other night. Or cooking up a pot of oatmeal for breakfast. She’s quite the little chef these days. One of our chore cards says “Supper Chef’s Assistant”. Pretty sure I’m going to get that one in my pile one of these days. Got a recipe? She can handle it.
Once every week and a half to two weeks, I go grocery shopping. Almost always, I go during the day with all the kids. We have a good rhythm, and things usually go fairly well. Lately, though, I’ve been less than pleased with how things have gone. Kids asking me to buy stuff, hiding in the clothes racks… it’s exhausting to keep all of that under wraps and still buy food for the week. So tonight, I took Sterling and Pierce and went after Blaine got home from work.
I left my Aldi bags at home and was left trying to contain cans and bags and randomness in one very wide open van. Without a trunk or anything to stop things besides the seat anchors, a can of olives can soar from one end to the other, multiple times, with some simple braking. It’s enough to make you cringe when the funnel from the back that was formerly next to the windshield fluid comes sliding and lands squarely at your feet in the front seat. Groceries need bags. Boxes. Both.
At Walmart. I needed deli meat and a key cut. Both counters close at 8pm. It was 8:05. Perfect. Got the other stuff on my list, got to the checkout… I’d left my wallet in the van. Really? I can do this with six kids with my eyes closed, but two kids has me thrown and unorganized?
So was the trip really worth not taking all the kids? I’m not convinced that it was all that much better, but Sterling and I had a grand time together. I bought him a little cherry pie, and he’s convinced it was the world’s best and biggest cereal bar and I’ve been holding back one of life’s pleasures.
He’s not so sure he’s impressed with the upright world quite yet, but Pierce joined the land of all things vertical this week.
Go, Baby Boy.
Next up: The land of wearing pants during waking hours. It’s overrated.
The goats have names. Hezekiah, Lamentations, and Pearl join Snow, Coffee, Cream, and Munch in our barn of friendly goats. Those babies are the highlight of the day for the kids. Goat chores just got longer. Pretty sure it’s not just work that’s being done up there.
I picked the names Hezekiah and Pearl. I’m not sure where Pearl came from but Hezekiah is mostly just to hear Ruby try to say it. It’s stinking funny. She even giggles at herself.
The girls go to co-op early for dance practice. So as we’re on the porch waving good-bye as they drive away in a friend’s car, Ruby announces, “The goats are out.”
Really? Now? When the girls are gone and I have to take all four kids ages four and under up the hill to chase some stinky goats? After my shower, when I’m in good clothes? Of course. When else?
Sterling held Pierce (and then Charlotte knocked him over, so he’s laying flat on his back, hollering for help because Pierce was on top of him and he couldn’t get up. That was a sight.) and I started the foolish process of catching a goat that doesn’t want to be caught. One’s tame as can be, caught and back in his pen. The fence is fixed, and then, doing what I’ve found to be the best way, (because goats really like to get out, so this is a common occurrence, unfortunately) I chased the doe toward the big hay bale. In one giant leap, she’s on the bale, cornered, and all I have to do is grab her, pull her down, and put her away.
I’m starting to get good at this. That’s sad.
Rescue Sterling for his cloud gazing position on the lawn, tear Charlotte away from the new baby goat she’s determined to love on, and we’re back to normal. You know, our normal. I have a feeling we’re anything but everyone else’s normal.
FYI: The bed under the bed worked beautifully, and my handmade pull-ups are fully leak proof. Life just got a whole lot easier and my house gained 12 square feet.
One baby girl
and twin baby boys
makes three new baby goats born in our barn this morning – from two different does.
So, so fun! So far, Eden named one of the baby boys Lamentations. Charlotte just thinks they are a real live snuggle blanket.
After a discussion with my dad during which I realized I’ve done roughly 300 extra loads of laundry this year. About a year ago my two middle children quit wearing diapers – and I started doing laundry. Now, with plans to rearrange furniture… details to come… Dad suggested I make pull-ups of sorts. I haven’t bought them for various reasons, so I’ve just washed sheets almost every day for at least one dear child.
My latest project of the day:
Yes, I just posted photos of underwear on my blog. But tomorrow, when sheets are dry even if children are not, it will all have been worth it.
For the record, everything involved I had. Extra PUL for waterproofing, flannel scraps for the lining and soaker layer, and Blaine’s old t-shirts for extra absorbency. I didn’t use a pattern, and the first is rougher than the second. If they work well though, I’ll make a couple more. Talk about frugality!
Our new chore cards are working wonderfully. The house is maintaining better than ever before. A good half hours’ warning is politely requested before dropping by… but we’re making progress. Overheard this morning:
“That’s your 10-minute speed clean, Ruby.”
“Well, Sterling, I call it my time-out.”
Ruby really likes the speed clean. Can’t you tell?
I stepped out of the kitchen while making supper, leaving Ruby at the realm. When I walked back into the kitchen, Ruby was coming out of the laundry room.
“I thought you were stirring this?” I said.
“I was, but I couldn’t for a minute. I was doing laundry,” she says as she throws the dryer lint away.
Precious, multi tasking three year old. I love you.
As Sterling saw me put brown sugar in the sloppy joes he asked, “Are you supposed to put that in there, or are you just doing that so that I’ll eat it?”
My dear boy. Equally loved, to be sure, but you are a goose.
Liberty woke up feeling the need for her fat pants this morning.
Or we got into a discussion about how I, in my high school years, tucked my shirts in but I never, ever do now… something about that post baby belly that makes that less than attractive. In went Liberty’s dress, into her leggings, and we got a giggle over the view of skinny Liberty with a less than skinny gut.
And then she wanted me to take a picture. To which, like any good blogger, I replied that I would – provided I was allowed to blog about it. She agreed.
You choose the scenario.
Tomorrow, this blue-eyed boy is five months old.
He gave me a fun short photo shoot this afternoon.
And then, he got bored.
Someone asked me yesterday if I ever get overwhelmed. Asked during one of those moments when everything is going well, no one is screaming and it’s looking like I have it all together, I stumbled saying something like this.
“Oh yeah. But then you remove your emotions from the equation and just do the next thing.”
Emotions are tricky things. They cause me to sin, often, when it comes to my kids. Sure, we laugh, we love, we have a ton of fun together. But when it comes to things not going well and the emotions in those moments, sin usually happens. Since when does you not having your shoes on right now have to be about me? But it does. I’m angry, you’ve sinned against me, you’re making me late.
You’re making me look bad.
Yep. All about me. Pretty pathetic, isn’t it? Somewhere along the line, I’ve learned – mentally, anyway – that if I step back and do the next thing, ignore the emotions running through my loud mouthed brain, I can get through the moment without adding my sins verbally to the situation. And one day, my brain might follow suit, do the next thing that needs to be done, and skip the selfish tirade that threatens to add itself to the situation.
Pursing Godliness. Thankful for His grace as I grow and those constant little reminders that I cannot do this on my own.
After very nearly taking out a sparrow on our way home last night, I said, “That bird was almost toast!”
“Oh, I get it. Because the window is so warm today,” said my new front-seat passenger, who is learning all she can on driving from her new vantage point.
Not exactly. So I set out explaining what “toast” can mean. The first thing that came out was “creamed”. Really? Are you serious? How many food references can one language take? And why on earth do I, in trying to explain one weird English word use, do I throw another one out there so that now I need to explain two?
I challenge you. Talk only in concrete verbs for a day. No weird English add-ons. It’s really, really hard.
You’ll be toast get creamed.
Long story short(er), I had a disagreement over how many coats one dear daughter needs, I made a declaration that one church coat is adequate and the other, unworn yet this year, needs to be in the tote for next year. Since the well-worn, much-loved coat has been worn for, ahem, 4 winters now, it’s getting on the small side. I said to finish out the year with the much loved coat and then next year the other can be worn. Tears. Tears. More tears. After spending the afternoon thinking the tears were over the coat headed for the tote and then finding out it was over me having declared that the loved coat cannot be worn for a fifth winter, I asked, “Do you think if I still wore the coat I wore when I was your age now, would it be cute?”
Giggles. “No! It would be like a bra on you now!”
And just like that, there were no more tears. Except for me. I laughed so hard I cried.
The excitement around here when Charlotte woke up dry. With diaper rashes often a problem for Charlie, she’s run around bare bottomed a lot. I’ve dug out the potty but not actually tried to potty train her. Something about 16 months old sounds a little young to me.
But she was dry! I plopped her on the potty and, wouldn’t you know it, she peed. Hooray!
And then she pooped in her high chair. Excitement over. Hello, bleach.
My kids have to help with chores. It’s accepted as life around here. But the motivation, the lists, the checking on their work, the forgetting – it was all about to drive me batty. Methods of reminding are constantly evolving though. I made morning routines. For a while, it worked well. The kids each had a paper with what their mornings should look like, and in theory anyway, it worked.
Until they forgot to read their morning routines. Or lost them. Or, or, or. So we made new and improved morning routines. A binder was discussed and scrapped.
Yesterday, we instituted Chore Cards. Each of the four older kids gets a refrigerator magnet containing their plan for the day. Basically, 3x5 cards with steps for the day on them. When that job is done, it goes into the basket for another day. When your fridge magnet is empty, you have free time until supper.
So far, very good. The house is picked up, chores are done and we’re all getting some free time. If they need a shower today, it goes in their stack. Homework for Sunday school or co-op? In today’s stack. All of their chores except for the animals outside got moved to after school, removing all excuse for a late start at school. Ten minute speed cleans, where they set the timer and pick up as fast as they can for ten minutes, are spread apart, each kid getting one at a different time of day so the house gets picked up more often, is keeping toy mess minimal. I like it.
My fridge got wiped out. The broken egg that Mr. Nobody broke is cleaned up. The cabinet doors are cleaned, and the toilet paper roll is restocked. And I didn’t have to ask a single question or remind anyone. If it’s in the basket, it’s done. If it isn’t, your lunch isn’t served yet. So far, so good. Ask me next week.
*If anyone is interested in the cards I made, I can send you the Xcel file. Attaching it here isn’t an option, I’ve found.
Eden used to say the funniest things. Usually it stemmed from speaking beyond her knowledge of vocabulary. Today, we went there again.
Looking through their photo books, Eden saw a photo of Ruby with our hamster. “Oh! There’s our ger-bil.” Hard G. No “j” sound. She frowned at me when I told her the g was soft. She still doesn’t believe me.
That was promptly followed by asking about a photo of her with a Dora and Boots in costume. “That looks like it was at a carnivore.” Carnival, carnivore… you know.
Turns out, all those funny things return as she flips through yesteryear.
Sterling wants to know why he can’t jump down our five steps like Liberty, Eden, and Ruby. I told him it was because he was scared.
“No I am not!” Sure, Dude. “Mom, maybe I should practice.”
“Okay.”
“I’m scared.”
“Yep, I know Buddy. It’s ok. I don’t want to jump that many steps either.” He decided to start small and jumped down, one step at a time. Poor guy.
Great news. I have it all so together.
I just ordered prints for the first time since October 2010. You know, when Charlotte was a newborn.
On the bright side, my cart in Snapfish sat so long that the coupon codes saved me $21. Sweet!
I’ll catch up someday. Maybe. Probably not.
I’ve been wanting to use this pattern for a while, but I couldn’t find wool at any of my local stores and hadn’t gotten the chance to trek across town to better stores. Complaining to Blaine about Hobby Lobby’s lack of wool material, he suggested cutting up his coat.
You know, the one that has been sitting in a tote for as long as I’ve known him? The one we’ve moved eight times and has just been waiting for me to get an itch to sew with wool?
Thank you, dear Blaine, for giving me the coat off your back out of storage that you didn’t want anymore.
Your boys look so handsome in it.
It was so fun to make something for the boys for a change.
And now, I’m imagining these in pink…
Waiting until after 7:30 am and the boys were fully awake (and, ahem, not still in bed…) might have given me less “deer in the headlights” – but what fun would that be?
Friday had four girls throwing up. Saturday had Momma wishing she would. Sunday it was Daddy’s turn and Charlotte went for round two. FYI: Do not feed a child hot dogs if there is even a remote chance of seeing it for a second time.
Sterling and Pierce are the anomalies around here. Sterling is pretty proud of his constitution right about now.
Can we be done now?
Just when I think God’s given me more than I think I can handle, He shows me mercy.
Pierce is napping in his own bed. Just this week, after fighting and losing and spending ridiculous amounts of money for D batteries since the swing was the only place he’d sleep, he started napping in his own bed. He’s up, he plays, he eats, he gets crabby, he gets laid down. He sleeps for 1-2 hours, and we start the cycle again.
It’s wonderful.
It’s also time to buy a sound machine. Because, while I loved country music as a teen, now, I love silence. Pierce does not. He sleeps far better with the radio on. But if I hear one more sad ballad from someone who I cannot tell to stop having a pity party to, I’m gonna scream. And yet, the radio just keeps on playing.
I’m thinking waterfalls. Rainforest. Anything but a guitar.
Every so often, I get a crafty idea. And thanks to the internet and people far more crafty than me, I can usually find a tutorial for whatever I can dream up. Someone before me has already thought of it, made it, took pictures of it, and gave me the measurements needed. It’s fabulous.
Today, I had an idea. I wanted to make myself some headbands. But, as it usually goes, my four dear daughters caught wind of the whir of the sewing machine and needed something of their own. And then…
the best idea I’ve had in a while was born.
Headbands, from this tutorial, and flowers from this tutorial, and something sweet for my babies.
Cute, right?
Once in a while, rarely so, my ideas turn out cuter than I imagine. Love these.
Sweet.
Many thanks to Grandma for her quilting scraps. Such fun.
Yesterday, we had a fun day with no school, friends coming over for supper, and a little bit of cleaning before a lot of free time planned. And then…
at noon, Eden lost her breakfast.
By 2pm, Liberty lost her lunch.
Around 3pm, Ruby lost hers.
At 6pm, Charlotte joined the club.
We have a gender specific bug. All four girls threw up more times than I could count, neither of the boys got sick – and I’m still holding out hope that we’re done. Every twinge of my stomach makes me fear that I’m next. Everyone ate breakfast this morning. We’ll see!
Why is it that just when the floors are cleaned and the laundry done and the house is company ready, a child loses her breakfast (and lunch and snack) and all plans are off?
So frustrating.
Trying to teach Pierce to nap in his bed instead of on me. Crying it out isn’t my method of choice, but since informing him of his responsibilities isn’t working, it’s my only option. Pierce has the crying part down pat. But yesterday, when Blaine decided he’d had enough of Pierce’s crying in the living room, he put him to bed.
He didn’t even fuss.
Pierce: 1,254
Momma: 0.
I cannot figure this boy out for the life of me. But that two hour nap he took in his bed – I accomplished something right about then. Both in my house and, hopefully, in Pierce’s habits. Hopefully.
Liberty is impatient with my efforts to teach Sterling to read. Or maybe she’s just tired of Sterling’s hourly requests to be read to. Either way, she got out the phonics charts and decided to teach him herself. Her methods are a bit interesting, but Sterling likes the attention. I have a feeling she’ll get it done. Next up: teaching him to tie his shoes. For as many little children that I have, it feels like I taught Eden these things forever ago. It’s kind of fun to have another one enter the grand world of education.
Every six months or so, I leave the much-used mop in the closet and wash my kitchen on my hands and knees. Mops can only do so much, and a good scrubbing now and then does the floor wonders. Judging from the looks of my jeans when I was finished, I shouldn’t have waited so long. But the feeling of my bare feet on the floor this morning made it very worthwhile. And then my kids ate breakfast…
We had a dresser with every drawer falling apart. It was headed for the curb this morning, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to get it there after Blaine forgot it. The girls had fun with the drawers. Jumping on them made them fall apart – really, it didn’t need much help. I decided to push the dresser off of the porch and see if I could get it to fall apart so that I could carry it.
One push had it as flat as a pancake. The whole thing just flattened. It was the most fun I’ve had with a task in a long time. If everything were so obedient and efficient, I’d get a whole lot more done in a day! Nothing like a little demo.
Sterling was sounding out three letter words in the beginning of our reading venture… we haven’t made it very far.
m…..e…..n…..
m…..e…..n…..
m…..e…..n…..
m…..e…..n…..
He wasn’t getting it.
“We call boys this,” I hinted.
“Dude?” he guessed.
Oh dear.
“Ruby, can you take your bloomers off, because we’re pretend cops and cops don’t wear bloomers?”
Nod and smile. Sometimes it just doesn’t have to make sense. Nod and smile.
We’re down to just three vehicles. For a bit there, we were looking somewhat like a used car lot. With just two drivers, we had four vehicles and a total of seating for 30 in all of our cars. Really now.
One minivan gone, we now have the pickup, Blaine’s van, and our big new van. Which I love, in case anyone was wondering. I have yet to go through a full tank of gas to check gas mileage, so I’m living in happy oblivion and loving the space. Wednesday at the zoo, when I met a friend there that drives a van bigger than mine and also has six kids… there was a fun moment. Two giant white vans parked side by side in the parking lot made me laugh.
Every morning I put Pierce in the bouncy seat for his morning nap. Every morning he fights and hollers and gets redder and redder until he finally gives up and goes to sleep. He likes the swing so much better – but the amount of batteries we were going through was slightly obscene. Pierce has a temper like none other. In Sterling’s words, “Mom, he’s really, really red.” One of these days he’ll just go with the flow. Right?
My back is back to mostly functional. Turns out, abuse something for too long and it’ll protest and finally just give up. It’s a painful proposition.
Liberty came to me this morning. “Mom, what is that thing in the sink?”
I had a huge pork tenderloin thawing.
“It’s pork,” I said.
“Wow, that’s a big cow!” Liberty replied.
I’m talking to myself in this whole education endeavor, it seems. Back to school.
Every so often, my back fails at it’s normal functions and I’m slightly informed of what being old will feel like.
It’s gonna be miserable. Walking bent over, feeling a cane would be helpful, and being unable, despite best attempts, to stand up straight isn’t fun.
Carrying water to the goats is enough to make me want to cry. Carrying babies is nearly impossible.
My kids think I’m nuts. So do I. Me and the bottle of ibuprofen are necessary friends, and there’s no end in sight.
Back to my hot pad.
My washing machine died Thursday. We read reviews, looked at machines, and felt our heads begin to swim. We talked to two companies that sell commercial washing machines and they spun faster.
Finally, I found one. I hope it’s good. With my checklist in hand, it met my criteria. Blaine’s getting it now, at the appliance store that beat everyone’s price.
I saved $70 making phone calls today. Hooray for taking the time and having it paying off!
It better be great. I cannot handle researching another one anytime soon. And my diaper pail is, in Ruby’s words, a tower. First load: diapers. Don’t come to my house until it’s done. The lid no longer fits and the smell is permeating…
In other news, my van has MO plates. Between that and the washer, I’ve spent more money today than I have since we closed on our house. Ouch. Tax refund, hurry along.
I wash a lot of laundry. Today’s diaper rinse water ended up on the laundry room floor. Upon taking apart the machine, Blaine found melted plastic and two holes in the plastic drum and more parts ruined than the washer is worth.
But this didn’t happen 25 loads and three weeks ago, when he had just left for California. It happened the day after he got home. Isn’t God good?
Getting a new washer. I’m thinking steel drum. It cannot melt.
If you’d ever have told me that at age 28
this would be my dream vehicle
I’d have said you were crazy.
But I love it. Three benches, two bucket seats, and seating for 12. It holds five car seats without complaint, (no shoving required!) and Liberty has her choice of five empty seats.
And it handles like… a really big van.
If you were in charge of teaching a group of about a dozen three year olds for four hours once a week, what kind of things would you do? How would you deal with keeping attention? With obedience and teaching them respect?
Ideas, anyone?
Today, I went grocery shopping. I took my list, got what was on it, and headed home.
Tonight, cleaning out my jean pockets, I found my grocery list. Except half of what was on it I hadn’t gotten today. Huh. I know I got everything on my list.
Then I found another list in my pocket. THAT was the list I’d shopped off of. An old list.
Last month’s meals are the new this month, I guess. And apparently emptying my pockets should include the extra step of looking at what I’m taking out and putting in, day after day.
Really, now.
Last week a family from church offered to help me with whatever I needed most. Having a hard time knowing what to choose, I decided I’d either polyurethane the stools I’ve been wanting to get done or I’d have them help rearrange my kitchen cabinet contents. As a family of ten, they surely have some great ideas.
Last week they watched the kids so I could work on my stools. They were awesome.
This week, they came over and helped with my kitchen cabinets. I was right; they had great ideas.
Then, they watched the kids so I could get groceries.
Then, I got a haircut. At home, trim the ends; so much better.
It was an awesome day. Let me just throw this out there. If you want to bless someone, volunteer your day for whatever they might need.
Things that have been hanging over me for over a year have been done. The fellowship was sweet, I learned from another, and cannot say thank you enough to dear friends for offering themselves for me and my family today.
Best of all: no judgment. The messy cupboards, the dirty floors, the disorganized mess that was my kitchen – none of it mattered. They just pitched in and helped.
I’m feeling so blessed.
I said I’d post photos of the van. I know. But I didn’t count on a little thing called “life” happening. As in, I got busy with motherhood and schooling and scolding and cooking and explaining and diapering and a whole host of other things. I’ll get there.
Blaine’s coming home tomorrow, Lord willing. They are packing up. It’s a good thing. If I lose my cool during one of the above mentioned activities one more time, I’m going to have mutiny on my hands. Something about stress and unfinished homework and super late bedtimes gets the better of me.
These last two and a half weeks, I have:
Changed a LOT of diapers
Washed not nearly so much laundry as is normal.
Polyurethaned 8 stools… with one coat. Someday soon we’ll do a 2nd and 3rd.
Filled one woodstove many, many times. We haven’t froze to death.
Chased four goats three times. Fixed fence… not very well… three times.
Cleaned one chimney one time.
Headed up to the chickens twice with a rifle trying to eliminate whatever is eliminating my chickens.
Failed at above mentioned elimination. But it wasn’t my sharpshooting skills, at least.
Patched the holes in the chicken fence created by said Eliminator. More successful fencing than the goat fence job, thankfully.
Made curtains! Hooray!
Taken six kids to church alone three times. No matter how bad that turns out, it deserves a medal… or a break… or a padded room.
Gone just slightly crazy. While I know that I can do this alone… I’d really, really rather not. Life’s pretty lonely… even when there are seven of us in one house.
Got slightly worried when walking up stairs made me out of breath. After all, I found out this news in 2010 while Blaine was in CA and this news in 2011 while Blaine was in CA. Then, hours later, I realized I’m getting a cold… and I’ve never been so thankful for it!
I’ve joined the “I drive a huge van” crowd. Well, I haven’t actually driven it yet, but it’s sitting in my driveway. That counts.
What’s your dream vehicle? Mine, in recent years, has lots of seats and lots of space. If you had told me when I bought my little two door hatchback Escort that I’d be driving another Ford, 12 years later, but this one with twelve seats… oh my.
I’ll be learning to drive this week. I’ll also be parking at the far end of the lot, I’m afraid.
Photos tomorrow – as soon as I get the car seats all moved.
*And before y’all think I bought a van without Blaine – yeah, no. It was a gift. Yeah. Exactly. HUGE.
We were digging through boxes of clearanced mittens and other miscellaneous at the local 1/2 of 1/2 store. You know, $.49 for a brand new Children’s Place hat, simply because it’s last season or needs about 3 stiches to close the seam that’s split a bit? This is how I clothe my children. Love it.
Ruby found newborn tights. “Mom, tights!”
“But we don’t have anyone that size.”
“Oh. Well, Pierce could wear them!”
“Pierce is a boy, honey. No tights for Pierce.”
A fifty-something lady nearby snickered.
Then Ruby found a bra. It came complete with cleavage, none of the wearer seemed to be required. She hollers at the top of her three year old little lungs, “Mom! Boobs! I can be like you!”
The lady snorted. I took the easy route.
In a completely deadpan voice, I said, “Oh, how nice Ruby. You’ll be beautiful.”
Pretty sure that lady would have had milk coming out of her nose. You know, if she’d have been drinking anything.
This morning I found my brand new $50 gallon jug of just-for-diaper laundry detergent jug on it’s side. I scraped up a quart of the liquid gold, (ok, at the current price of gold, not quite, but it sure felt like it!) cried over spilt detergent, (yeah, no, not literally. But if I were a more emotional soul you can bet I would have.) and used the mop water to wash the laundry. The dear, much loved child who knowingly knocked the detergent over and left it to spill out… I’m pretty sure said child understands to never, ever, ever decide to hide behind the washing machine again. Another dearly loved child commented, “Man. I’m glad that wasn’t me!”
Just for good measure we read the parable of the talents. It didn’t quite ring the message of good stewardship like I’d planned. The glazed eyes told me I’d lost them.
Eden lost the spoon she’d taken with her to scrape the scraps to the chickens tonight. It was dark, and she and Liberty asked for help in finding it.
“Am I going to go out there and immediately find it? How well did you look?”
“We really looked for it. It’s not out there,” Eden said.
“She’ll probably find it right away, Eden. Mommma’s a good looker,” Liberty said.
I giggled. Then I had to explain the old good “looker” comment that you just never hear anymore. Or at least, I certainly don’t.
They both giggled and told me I was a good finder. Then they assured me that they think I’m cute too.
Funniness.
We’ve been discussing energy and resource conservation. You know, the “The electric bill is how high?!” discussion. My children are not the best at turning lights off when they leave the room. It drives me crazy. Our whole house will be lit up like a Christmas tree and no one would be home if the kids had anything to do with it.
So I instituted the “Fine.” clause.
I find a light on and no one around, I turn it off. Then I find the culprit and I earn a quarter.
I have yet to collect any quarters. It’s a win-win. I really didn’t want to confiscate their resources. I just wanted mine conserved.
But today, when Ruby asked me if I wanted her to turn off the fridge interior light, I wondered if I’d taken it too far.
Nah.
My kids are sleeping underneath the kitchen table tonight. Their beds lie cold and empty while four children, sensible often, choose to very insensibly sleep on a cold ceramic tile floor.
Why? I haven’t figured that out yet. They think it’s fun and it didn’t hurt anything – besides, perhaps, their backs. And shoulders. And hips.
Oh wait, that would be me. Wouldn’t it be nice to do such things without paying for it? You know, in case you get the urge to sleep under the kitchen table?
Pierce cried and cried and cried unless I held him. Fed up and trying to make supper, I put him in his bed. Never made him nap in there before. (I don’t even make him sleep in there at night most of the time, who am I kidding?)
He went to sleep immediately.
Pierce: 1.
Momma: 0.
Just in case my statement of my kids lack of sports knowledge seemed a bit exaggerated…
Pierce has a sweatshirt on with a giant orange basketball on it. Liberty saw it and said, “Baseball!”. I said “No…” straightening out his shirt to show the bright orange basketball. “Oh! Soccer!”
Really now. Next up: a lesson in sports with a brief intro to the rules. Brief, since I’m not so knowledgeable about them either… but I do know the difference in which ball goes with each game!
We borrowed Facing the Giants from the library and the kids and I watched it a few nights ago.
We don’t watch any sports around here. Blaine has no interest, neither do I. So when my kids say football or basketball, I check to see. It could very well be soccer or baseball they are looking at. They don’t have a clue.
So we’re watching the movie, it’s all about football, when Sterling had a question.
“Why do they do that?”
I said because it is a fun game. The look on his face required a disclaimer.
“I think you have to like being tackled.”
Sterling replied, “Yeah, I think so. I would not like to play football.”
“Nope, I’m pretty certain you' wouldn’t.”
“Not al all, Momma. That does not look like fun.”
Maybe he’ll play baseball. Or run track…
You know that moment that you are headed for bed, walk past a mirror and the image makes you stop and gawk, it’s so bad? And then you relive your day, realizing all the people that saw you like that?
It’s grand. I showered, threw my hair up, and got busy. Yikes. Add chasing the goats and fixing fence and you’ve got a regular disaster going on with clothes, hair, everything. Perfect.
I had company over last night. Not one of those known-you-for-years friends. A just-getting-to-know-you friend. Again, perfect.
Today, we made slingshots. Sterling was using a hairband as a slingshot and I decided we could do better. We wandered our woods, found sticks (4… we couldn’t not make one for all the bigger kids) and patched together rubber bands, dental floss and fabric. Sterling was thrilled.
Liberty used hers to swing a small doll figurine in.
Therein lies the difference between boys and girls. Sterling will use a hairband as a slingshot. Liberty will use a slingshot for a doll bed.
One year and three days ago, I posted this post: http://balesf5.blogspot.com/2011/01/when-daddy-is-away-girls-will-find.html
Today, I can finally post this picture:
I love it.
And now, so I can place your talent admiration squarely where it belongs… in March, my mother offered to make the quilt. I declined. In July, she offered again. Still I dumbly declined. And this fall, I said something along the lines of “Moooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmm?”
And without batting an eye, she took my bags of fabric rectangles I hadn’t touched for many months and bailed me out.
So I made curtains to match.
Did I mention I love it? Thanks, Mom. I owe you one a million.
A friend from church volunteered to watch my kids for a few hours today.My kids love when she comes, I get a break, and it amazes me how many stores I can go to in a short time without dealing with so many kids and car seats. Thank you, Janie. So, so much appreciated. And those leftovers… I need the recipe. They were really good.
So I got home to find the goats out. This isn’t, unfortunately, the first time. A little chasing, stick throwing, a G-rated name calling later, the fence was fixed and the goats were captured. So I did the reasonable thing in such circumstances – I looked at my good shoes on my feet and decided they’d live. I put each of the four goats in the stanchion and trimmed their feet.
Blaine, you might not want to hurry too much. Eau de Goat permeates the house at the moment…
Never a dull moment.
Friends keep asking how I’m doing with Blaine gone. I keep saying I’m fine. Blaine spent a lot of time getting things set up around here so this month would go smoothly.
This morning I started pouring Cheerios in my coffee.
Maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought.
Ruby liked it. Obviously. She even added a bit to her hair. You know, for color.
As did Charlotte.
And now that she’s soaked in the tub for a bit, I’m going to go see if I can chisel her cheeks free…
Ruby and Sterling were arguing. Sterling stated he didn’t like supper. Ruby insisted he did. That was an interesting conversation. (Amazingly enough, Sterling ate it anyway. Turns out, not eating lunch – because he didn’t like what I made – makes him very hungry!)
Why, when I leave the room because I cannot hear my phone conversation, do they follow me?
Charlotte sat in her chair, finished with her supper hollering, “Tee Tee! Tee Tee!” So glad she’s so dependent on Liberty. She didn’t yell for Momma.
I made popcorn last night. Usually Blaine makes popcorn on Sunday nights – it’s my night “off”. I was told my popcorn was better – it had more salt and butter. We all sat in the living room and ate it. This morning my hardwood floor had an impressive sheen. Thinking Daddy’s less-buttered popcorn does me a favor in the world of over-shined floors.
Sterling told me goodnight twice last night. “The second time I’m going to pretend you are Daddy.”
How does sleeping in one hour late put me three hours behind all day?
I found a whistle in the sandbox. Ruby found it later. Getting a mouth full of sand didn’t slow her down. I now have sand blown onto my freshly oiled floors… she must have thought a little grit was necessary to prevent slipping.
Can I saw how thankful I am for friends from church? A big crockpot of spaghetti was dropped off today – enough for leftovers for tomorrow too. It was wonderful. Even Sterling likes it. Ruby says so.
In honor of Pierce’s 3 month and one week birthday, some photos.
He’s 15 pounds, growing some impressive eyelashes (and eyebrows)
happy (part of the time) when he’s held or swinging
and far larger than any of my other babies at three months old.
It’s crazy.
He likes to sleep in my bed, and rarely cooperates with the “back to sleep in your own bed” plan. Because, after all, it’s really, really hard to nurse all night long from there.
He’s so not my first baby.
A long time ago, when I had just one, I was horrified when a father of nine told me that their ninth was sleeping in their bed. He said you just relax about these things. I thought never, never would I allow a baby to sleep in my bed. That’s not what the books say to do. It’s not what the pediatrician says to do. It’s just wrong.
I was wrong.
Ruby informed me this morning “If I hugged you really tight on your neck and you couldn’t breathe you would die.”
“Yes, I suppose that could happen. But it would have to be a really long hug,” I replied.
“Then I’d have to buy a new mommy.”
So glad to know I’m easily replaced.
Brady used to keep the area under the kitchen table clean. Then I bought lamb and rice food for her and she got picky. When the 5 lb. dog goes through one 40 lb. bag of dog food a year, I could justify the good stuff.
No longer. Next time, it’s Ol’ Roy. Maybe then the table scraps lovingly supplied by the kids would be more desirable.
In the meantime, I love to see Blaine’s cringe when I call for Brady when Pierce spits. Oh, it makes me laugh. I refuse to call it gross after seeing what the dog chews on outside.
How’s that for a glimpse inside the walls of this house? Oh dear.
Today’s white load contains five pairs of tights, pinned up to dry on the clothesline.
I’m not sure what amazes me more. The five pairs of tights or the 54 degree weather in January that allows for clothesline use.
I love them both.
We’re back to school today. After planning one week off and taking two, it was time. The break was wonderful.
Somehow I thought my house would be cleaner than this, having so much free time, but it’s not.
I thought I’d have my bedroom curtains made, but I don’t.
But the break was wonderful. Did I mention that?
We went to the zoo. We went to the library. We played games. We put puzzles together. Sometimes, rarer than I ought, I remember that these days are short and I choose the nobler thing.
Here’s to a messier house and happier kids. And a happier Momma. Because really, who has kids for the clean house value?
Dear Pierce,
I’m flattered, really. So glad you love me so much. But if you wanted to go to someone else, just for a little while, that would be ok with me.
My back hurts.
I really don’t know how you know so instantly when someone else has you. I’m sure that your sense of smell or whatever it is that alerts you to this will serve you well someday. I’m not quite sure how, but we’ll think of something.
Love,
Momma
Life has been chaotic lately. We’re off from school until Tuesday, and still, life is about as stressful as it comes. Craziness.
Blaine leaves for his yearly work trip to California this week. Getting back into school, co-op, and being alone – and so very not alone – isn’t something I’m looking forward to. Blaine will be gone for about three weeks. Trying to get things ready, feed for the animals and wood stocked up and split has Blaine hopping.
Pray for me and the kids, if you would? I rather hate Januaries. I never thought of myself as a worrier before, but life is getting to me right now. So not cool.
