The Hike

Today marks a day of growth beyond measure for my little ones have completed and survived their first giant scout hike. Sigh.  They are now nine years old and since the scout hike fell on the same day as the Father's and Son's campout, they decided to just combine the two.  So, all the little one's joined the bigger ones on a "ten miler" which was really only eight plus a bit. Whew!

Lily and I watched "girly" movies and painted our nails.  We are not at all sad we missed the hike, though I could have done with fewer Oreo cookies and chips.

Five hours later I get a text saying they have survived.  Two hours after that I see the meaning of "survived" as they walk through my door.  A round of showers and checking for ticks is followed by...  SILENCE.  Not one boy has asked to do anything.  They ALL are just laying around staring at the walls, unless their eyes are actually closed. I think they probably are, unless they are the fortunate one that Lily is begging to play a game with her.

One of my favorite things the kids do is respond at the same time.  Like today when my sister was visiting me and the kids were chatting in the background.  All the sudden they break out with chanting all together, "Ice cream!" as if they had rehearsed it. 

It happens all the time.  I usually don't notice it, but I notice how the people around me react.  My sister's eyes got big and she looked over her shoulder, putting our conversation on hold until the kids stopped that part of their game.

A few weeks ago the boys were on their first cub scout field trip to see a farm.  I was driving and we had one other boy riding with us.  He sat in the middle seat between Marek and Brenden.  The conversation was something about video games when extra boy suddenly yells, pulling at his hair, "Stop it!  Stop it!" 

What was the problem?  My boys spontaneously started acting out a part of the game in unison.    A few miles later with a different topic of conversation I hear, "GAA!  You're doing it again! Stop!"  That time they were singing a song about pigs that one had made up. 

The funny thing is, it isn't limited to the quads.  Yesterday I was wishing we had a video of how in sync they all are.  We were driving down the road listening to the kids, all six of them, chanting, "Coconut pigs eat coconut!  Coconut pigs eat coconut!" when they suddenly stopped and we had a moment of silence, then they all began again in unison. 

Sigh.  Simple joys for this happy Mom with a head ache.  I hope no one ever asks me why I don't allow chanting again.

Halloween Twins?

First off I must say sorry for not posting for so long.  That phase of life is now in the past and I promise to post at least once per week.  Now, onto this weeks entry!  In the interest of Halloween, we are getting costumes ready and there is an increased excitement in our home.  

After discovering, again, that store bought costumes are way out of our budget ($30 times 6 kids is $180) we spent a day being frustrated.  My sweet Brenden put his arm around me and said, “It’s okay Mom.  We can just wear last year’s costumes until you get some made for us.” 

We made the dash to the closet and dumped every box of dress up on the floor trying to find something that would still fit my growing kids.  (by the way, when did you get so tall?)

Last year’s things were good enough for last Saturday’s event.  We went to a fundraiser trick or treat day for a local historical museum.  There were games set up in an area at the park.  At the last game the boys lined up and waited their turn. 

The person running the game said, “Oh!  Are you twins?”  The smile on her face made me wonder if she never saw twins.

Her spirits deflated and she looked confused when Evan responded, very matter of factly , “No.”

She stood there for a moment looking between the boys and thinking really hard before Marek said, “We’re quads.” 

I love watching people’s reactions to that.  I don’t know what they expect, but I’m sure it’s not that!

So, back to the costume story, although it was heartfelt, my heart pounded harder in my chest at the thought of making so many costumes!  Alas, we searched the fabric stores, borrowed from my sister and Grandma, and made a witch outfit for less than $6.  It looks great, is personalized, and much warmer than a store bought anything would be.  I feel so accomplished!  But my favorite thing was the boy’s reaction.

Two of them wanted to be Harry Potter.  They put their outfits on, including the scarf made by wrapping duct tape around a piece of fleece, and danced through the house chanting, “Now we’re twins!  Look!  We’re twins!”   I’ll get a picture up before the week is over.

Christmas aftermath

            Christmas was great!  No, I did not get the end of year letters out this year, but after all, it is still before Valentine’s Day right? 

            Not too long before Christmas I overheard my kids talking.  Oldest was explaining to the younger ones, ““It’s better to not have so much.  That way we can appreciate what we have more.”  My heart melted as I realized he is fully aware of the lack of funds in our home and I recognized another tidbit of how gratitude works.  I have to count my blessings.  I have been given some great kids.

            The lesson went over well.  “This is the best Christmas ever!” could be heard for days while they played with their “best gifts ever” that cost a whopping $10-$15 each from Wal-mart on Black Friday.  Proof we don’t have to spend a ton of money to make the kids happy.

            I was glad for the effort made in keeping to the budget when I short time after Christmas our furnace stopped putting out heat.  We all camped out in the front room with several space heaters surrounding us.  Though it snowed that night, it was not as cold then as it is now. 

We spent four days doing this just before school started up again from the winter break. By the time the furnace was repaired, the kids were saying, “This is great!  Even on a school night!”  While hubby was saying, “This can’t go on much longer!” and trying not to pull his hair out.

I guess we covered our tempers well enough.  One child reported he liked it better when the furnace was broken better than when the pipes were.  I agreed!  Our pipes did not actually break but they didn’t work right. 

The kitchen sink is in an overhanging window area.   The pipes freeze here every year.  The rest of the house has working water so I thought little of it other than, “This is annoying.”  

It made for the most exciting dish washing.  Even though we had tried to stick to dish-less meals like sandwiches, dry cereal, and pizza, after nine days we had run out of paper plates.  I could hardly stand the pile of pans in the sink.  The time had come to do the dishes. 

We filled the sink with water from the bathroom and set up an assembly line.  I washed and the kids took the dishes to the bathroom where Daddy helped rinse and then the kids took the dishes back to the dishwashers to dry.  When their dish as safely in the drying area, they got back in line for their next run around.  It was the most cooperation in our history of house cleaning.

I shared my rather brilliant experience with a friend who’s eyes got wide with worry and she said, “Your pipes are frozen?!?  You better get home for when they break!  It will flood your house!  I can’t believe your pipes haven’t broken yet!  Everyone’s pipes break when they freeze.” 

When I opened the door I was greeted with the sound of rushing water.  Oh no!  They broke!  Grateful once again for sticking to the budget I ran to find… Oh, nope.  Never mind.  That’s just the sound of rushing water from pipes that are no longer frozen.  Hooray!

Our kitchen pipes are a flexi-type pipe, not like normal pipes.  Sigh of relief, followed by sigh of frustration.  I wish we had left the water turned on more so they would have stayed unfrozen.  The constant dripping in the back ground is driving me crazy.  I definitely liked it better when the heater was broken instead of the pipes.

I expect my lesson in patience to be ending soon.  A storm is expected to blow through tomorrow bringing a heat wave with it.  Temps should finally get about 25 degrees.

In other news, my baby is growing up.  I know, not a big surprise, but my oldest is now 11 years old and has been invited to an open house for the up coming junior high kids.  No turning back now.  Kids will grow. I am debating whether or not to let my hair go gray or continue coloring it.  Do we have to get older just because they do?

We have been sledding only once with all the cold weather it is too cold to make the trek to the hill and back home again.  I am looking for a fabulous hot cocoa recipe.  I think when I find it there will be cause to brave the cold again. 

Keep making your challenges your blessings!  Have a marvelous day!

A lesson in numbers, colors, and SCIENCE!

           As we have been attending school for a while now I have been remembering and thinking of all the prep work that has gotten us to this point.

We all want to have brilliant kids that are “ahead of the curve”.  They say you should implement learning in every thing you do.  Every meal should become a lesson in counting and color identifying.  Every walk outside can be a lesson in science.  A mother that is ahead of the curve herself can combine these elements into one lesson. 

You will see that I do not really have to contribute much in order to qualify as “ahead of the curve”.  A nice blessing of having so many kids is that I am often outnumbered and can not be heard over the rumble of so many small voices fighting for attention.

            On one occasion we were having our daily math lesson.  I said, “Let’s count the yellow cars that we pass.”  I patted myself on the back and smiled.  That will show the teachers that I really do care.  I have combined color recognition with counting.

            “There’s one!” an excited voice declares.  My plan is in motion.   I checked my rear view mirror and sighed in happiness.  All I have to do is… my thoughts are interrupted.  My smile fades.

            “I’ve seen 114!  I win!”  Wait, we’ve barely made it out of the neighborhood.  We could have only passed at most 50 cars, and we are supposed to count 1-2-3-4-5.

            Before I can address the miscount the next one hollers, “NO!  I’m winning!  I’ve seen 234 so far!”  Did I mention this was not a competition but merely a counting on our way to the doctor’s office?

            What was meant to be a simple math lesson combined with color recognition quickly develops into a lesson in honesty and good sportsmanship.  Before that lesson is fully developed we move on to item differentiation and classifying living and non-living items.

            “I win!  I am counting all the cars AND animals that I’ve ever seen in my entire life!” 

While the kids are discussing the differences between cars and animals, I make a mental note. Add exaggeration to the list of things to cover in the “learning moment”.  Things are getting louder by the second.  They also recommend breaking learning moments into small manageable minutes.  Does 35 seconds count?  While I am debating with myself over how long a learning moment needs to be to qualify I consider the topics covered.  Numbers, colors, character, teamwork, hmmm… we didn’t cover much by way of science.

“You can’t count everything you’ve seen your entire life!  That’s not fair because you’ve lived longer!”

            Does that count as covering exaggeration?  Siblings are so nice to take care of that for me.  As the voices turn to anger I think it’s time to change the subject to music and voice training.  I know when I can’t win.  This has progressed too far.  

Sometimes I am the one who needs a lesson.  Today it is a lesson in listening, being happy together, and using your imagination.  Just before I succumb to a lesson in music and turn on the radio, my son shouts out a statement that ends it all.

“Well, I’m going to count water vapor pieces!  I got to a billion!  I WIN!”  

Ah, ha! Science has been covered now too!  Mom wins!

A great start to summer?

The day for writing has finally come.  After a long and painful battle with cancer, my brother found peace.  The day after school ended for summer break.  Great timing.

Friday afternoon I had discussed with the kids how we were going to “get so much done”  “be organized” and “have a schedule that included having fun!”  I was stoked for summer! (Even if most of my family was going to Disneyland and we were not)  We were making our wish to do list for the summer and everything, I mean each and every bit of the list was going to be done! (No one put Disneyland, or a comparable, on the list so I was okay with the budget)

Plans changed and the TV became the only thing on the list.  I feel so honored in being able to put that list on hold for a few days.  Okay, a few weeks but not months. 

That Friday, I went to help my brother get ready for his last doctor appointment.  When he told me he loved me, his voice had a different tone than usual.  He had said those words to me often enough that I knew them.  But he looked at me and said, “It’s soon.”

The tears were in both our eyes as I tried to wave it off.  I said, “The Lord had plenty of chances to take you before.”

He sighed, looked at the ground and went on to explain how weak he was feeling, among other things.  He repeated that he wanted to be sure I knew he loved me and appreciated me.  That was the most priceless TV time my kids could ever have.

The next morning my mom called.  It was time.  He wasn’t kidding it was soon.  I had that conversation with him less than 24 hours before he left the disease behind.

The kids Saturday was also filled with television, XBOX, and their loving dad.  My husband cared for the kids without question when I hung up the phone and called out, “I’m going to Bryce’s!”  I grabbed the keys and left without a word more.

What more can I say about that day other than nothing can compare to holding the hand of a loved one moments before they are gone.

I called relatives and had out of town company stay at my house for a week.  Life was on hold at the same time it was crazy busy.  All the friends that helped in the past came around again offering condolences, cookies, and lasagna. 

One week later my husband and I attended the second wedding for that day, after going to a funeral for a neighbor in the morning, and helping with their family luncheon that followed.

I realized, or remembered rather, how being involved is what gets us through it all.  If we were not active in our church we would have a much smaller support group.

Knowing this, I was eager to offer a salad today for yet another funeral.  Knowing this I was also less than excited to have the day I did which diminished my abilities to help. 

The truck would not start at the end of swim lessons.  No problem.  Call the tow truck, have the fix it place give us a ride home, beg the driver to return the library books.  Have a snow cone while we wait and make a few new friends.  No problem.  Walk to the park for lunch instead of drive?  No problem at all.  I have been meaning to get more exercise.

Fall out of the truck while attempting to get the boosters our and hurt my bad ankle again?  That’s a little more of a problem.  Joke about stopping by the hospital on the way home and sit on the couch indefinitely.  Practice hopping or scooting everywhere I go.  Be glad there is a bathroom on the main floor, and allow ten year old to be “in charge”.  Well, that took care of the salad problem, but I am a control freak.  I really should try to let him have more responsibilities.

Have a great excuse for Hubby to do the dishes and finally get a chance to write.  No problem!

I really should stop asking for things like “I wish I could make more opportunities to write”, or, “I wish I took more time to exercise”.   Even the phrase, “I should let my kids have more responsibilities” should be thought with caution and should certainly never be mentioned out loud!  Well, all my goals are on their way to accomplishment.

Maybe next week I will get to that routine and to do list.

Remember a hundred years ago when…

You know you’re in for a great day when your youngster greets you with, “Hey Mommy.  Remember a hundred years ago when you…”  I would prefer “Good morning” but that is rare in these parts.  Then again, I am should be getting used to the unusual salutations. Most often I hear, “What’s for breakfast?”  Or “What can I eat?”  With an occasional, “Can we eat yet?” 

I do remember what seems like a hundred years ago, when they would climb into bed with me and fight over who gets to be between Mommy and Daddy.  Back then we were called Ma Ma and Da Da. 

A hundred years ago they were small enough to stay where I put them.  If I left the room I knew where I could find them.  The biggest trick they could do was switch bottles, making me think everyone had their fill when really one had guzzled and stole the other’s bottles. No wonder they are always asking what they can eat.

It seems like a hundred years ago when they were learning to crawl, beginning to speak, and throwing their food.  Now they run and hide, yell and argue, and simple refuse to eat, or beg for something better. 

Maybe it’s just me, but I often measure my work as a parent by the way my children behave.  Watching my children grow not only makes life go by faster, but also boldly displays all my bad habits.  They mimic and copy my every thought it seems. How many times have others thought they wish the kids would leave that secret at home?

Once in a while I will see them and wonder where they learned something.  Before I know it, it will be another hundred years since I watched them offer to help a friend stand up after they had fallen, or give the penny they found at the playground to someone else because “they have a piggy bank.” Am I that generous and thoughtful?  I doubt it.

I hope in a hundred years I will be able to remember how frustrated they made me when they were late for school and just stood there.  I was getting ready to yell, “Hurry up!  You’re late!  What are you waiting for?!?!”  Fortunately the window wouldn’t roll down before I saw they grab hands with the slowest sibling and run in together. 

Once again, patience is a virtue and waiting for a moment proves to shine light on a situation.  My being forced to pause changed the tension in the air from what could have been distressing for my children to a warm glow in my heart.  Not only that they would care enough for each other to make sure everyone was coming, but they took each other by the hand and ran together. 

Today I am praying for the patience to wait and see if the situation truly is what I think it is, and hoping that next time I am asked to remember a hundred years ago I will remember it fondly. 

(For the record, Lily was remembering the last time I gave her a haircut. I gave her another one this week.)