This boring old dreary-rainy Monday morning, I grabbed my son's hand to warm up my hands (I regularly use them for supplemental heat), and I noticed it felt a little different.
So, we took a moment to do something that is not-so-unusual around here: we measured hands.
He did a double-take. I froze. It has happened. I have a child whose hand is as big as mine.
I do not have small hands.
His basketball coach is very happy with his hands; his piano teacher is so excited she stumbles over her words. His mother?
*sniff*
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Monday, January 23, 2012
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
What I really want to eat this week
I will miss making all of my husband's family's favorites...whipped sweet potatoes, broccoli casserole, the "dressing", the green beans, the endless lines of pies, the apple stack cake
But we will eat together, and I will not miss the stories, the games, the time.
I will miss my grandma. My first Thanksgiving without a living grandparent. Their traditions, their steadfastness, their ever-present love.
But we will make her noodles, and pile them on mashed potatoes, and make a ham instead of a turkey, and remember her in each bite.
I will miss my "boy"...his willingness to hold my hand in public - or any motherly PDA; his boyish features; my slight advantage in strength....all have been fading, and with this, the 12th birthday, are disappearing.
But we will eat his All Boy birthday menu on his Thanksgiving Day Birthday (who else gets to eat corn dogs on Thanksgiving Day? Anyone? Anyone?) and sing to him and be so thankful for the boy he is and the man he is becoming.
I will miss the "way things were" - I've always been bad at change - but I will embrace the "way things are" and remember the One Who Always Is - He is my Rock.
And I will eat...
"Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and you will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me;
listen, that you may live."
But we will eat together, and I will not miss the stories, the games, the time.
I will miss my grandma. My first Thanksgiving without a living grandparent. Their traditions, their steadfastness, their ever-present love.
But we will make her noodles, and pile them on mashed potatoes, and make a ham instead of a turkey, and remember her in each bite.
I will miss my "boy"...his willingness to hold my hand in public - or any motherly PDA; his boyish features; my slight advantage in strength....all have been fading, and with this, the 12th birthday, are disappearing.
But we will eat his All Boy birthday menu on his Thanksgiving Day Birthday (who else gets to eat corn dogs on Thanksgiving Day? Anyone? Anyone?) and sing to him and be so thankful for the boy he is and the man he is becoming.
I will miss the "way things were" - I've always been bad at change - but I will embrace the "way things are" and remember the One Who Always Is - He is my Rock.
And I will eat...
"Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and you will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me;
listen, that you may live."
Sunday, May 22, 2011
When the Plan Comes Together
So, you know what it's like when you have spent years teaching the letters and their sounds, and reading to the child, and putting words together, and slowly they start to read, and sound their words out, and you have to set times for them to practice reading each day? And then one day it's really quiet, and you check on them, and they're engrossed in a chapter book that you didn't even suggest and it makes you want to cry?
Well, the construction equivalent just happened. Counting, measuring, math, power tool instruction, years of patience with "helpers", and more have just come together. Daddy's tearing up. : )
Well, the construction equivalent just happened. Counting, measuring, math, power tool instruction, years of patience with "helpers", and more have just come together. Daddy's tearing up. : )
Sunday, May 8, 2011
I Could Get Used to This
So far today...
...tons of hugs and kisses...
...they made my bed...
..."Interviews About Mom" videos with each kid answering questions and sending messages to me. Best. Gift. Ever....
...Originial songs written and sung for me...
Here's one of the interviews. You can see in the clothing question that I have passed down the sarcasm gene completely intact.
http://www1.snapfish.com/snapfish/slideshow/AlbumID=4191389015/PictureID=196880957015/a=4932649_4932649/
...tons of hugs and kisses...
...they made my bed...
..."Interviews About Mom" videos with each kid answering questions and sending messages to me. Best. Gift. Ever....
...Originial songs written and sung for me...
Here's one of the interviews. You can see in the clothing question that I have passed down the sarcasm gene completely intact.
http://www1.snapfish.com/snapfish/slideshow/AlbumID=4191389015/PictureID=196880957015/a=4932649_4932649/
Thursday, December 9, 2010
New Kid in Town
D: I'm going to grow out my hair really long and then donate it for wigs.
Me: Great!
Waiting...waiting....waiting
Waiting...waiting....waiting
D: How long is it now? Is it long enough to cut the ponytail?
Me: Nope
More waiting...
Me: I think it's long enough now! Do you want to wait until soccer is done and then cut it?
D: Yep.
Waiting...waiting......WAITING...for the team to lose : )
Me: Hair appointment next week!
Me: Right - your decision.
D (this morning): I'm ready, let's go!
And she did it! Proud of her and her attitude about the whole thing. Interestingly, she knew exactly what kind of hairstyle she wanted and she was right...it looks great on her.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
On getting older: them, that is
Another birthday week has arrived. It's impossible to forget their arrival around here since they are anticipated and counted down with publicity from the very minute the previous-birthday-person blows out their candles. Besides, being the completely seasonal person I am -- a fact I have come to see more clearly and embrace more fully -- this birthday has too many triggers to be forgotten. Big Ten football, end of harvest, my dad and husband's birthdays...the impending Thanksgiving. Eleven years ago I had the 22nd circled on the calendar for 9 months, the boy stayed in me to grow even bigger, we induced, and my first child was born on the day before Thanksgiving (falls on the same day this year!).
We watched Toy Story 3 last night. In the scene where the mom sees Andy's nearly empty room before he heads to college and starts crying, Levi looks at me and says, "You're going to be like that."
"Yep," I replied. And then the next 7 years of my life flashed before me in a blink, and I just about started crying right there. SEVEN years?! Impossible. There's too much to do, too much to teach him, too many memories to be made to stuff into that short of a time. I love an essay I just read reinforcing that the "teenage" years don't have to be what the popular culture dictates - our kids can learn and grow and pull away and become young adults without buying into the world's idea of adolescence. I especially appreciated Neufeld's words of guidance: "I would suggest three words to guide child raising and education: expectations, responsibility and risk."
I know we need to add more responsibility and risk into our children's lives, especially Levi's. I don't want to just create "situations", either. I think we need to improve at seeing those naturally-occurring opportunities for them to take more responsibility and fail or succeed. I'm praying that my eyes will be opened to those and for the patience to see them through. We're starting to move into the next phase; I want to enjoy it and them as much as I am this one.
We watched Toy Story 3 last night. In the scene where the mom sees Andy's nearly empty room before he heads to college and starts crying, Levi looks at me and says, "You're going to be like that."
"Yep," I replied. And then the next 7 years of my life flashed before me in a blink, and I just about started crying right there. SEVEN years?! Impossible. There's too much to do, too much to teach him, too many memories to be made to stuff into that short of a time. I love an essay I just read reinforcing that the "teenage" years don't have to be what the popular culture dictates - our kids can learn and grow and pull away and become young adults without buying into the world's idea of adolescence. I especially appreciated Neufeld's words of guidance: "I would suggest three words to guide child raising and education: expectations, responsibility and risk."
I know we need to add more responsibility and risk into our children's lives, especially Levi's. I don't want to just create "situations", either. I think we need to improve at seeing those naturally-occurring opportunities for them to take more responsibility and fail or succeed. I'm praying that my eyes will be opened to those and for the patience to see them through. We're starting to move into the next phase; I want to enjoy it and them as much as I am this one.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Uncharted territory
One of my offspring is now 5 feet tall.
And weighs 100 pounds.
And wears a size 9 *MENS* shoe.
We announce these milestones around here like they are a normal part of life moving on. Which they are, of course, until I remember carrying said child in my body, giving birth, dressing him in cute baby clothes and the infamous swaddling blankets.
Then I hyperventilate a little.
And weighs 100 pounds.
And wears a size 9 *MENS* shoe.
We announce these milestones around here like they are a normal part of life moving on. Which they are, of course, until I remember carrying said child in my body, giving birth, dressing him in cute baby clothes and the infamous swaddling blankets.
Then I hyperventilate a little.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Stretching ourselves
So, here's a story. It's long, but I have to write it down because I don't want to forget it. Levi and Jesse have been pooling their money and trying to make enough/save enough to buy a certain Star Wars LEGO kit. They thought their pace was too slow and have been asking for bigger jobs that might pay big dividends (no $ for regular chores here, but instead of an allowance we pay for jobs that are extra-hard/time consuming). It doesn't take much looking around here right now to see a big job -- the snow. The one half of our driveway had not yet been touched -- not even stepped on since the first big snow. Walls of snow had been pushed up on either end; I figured we'd be driving out that side of the "U" sometime in April.
So the deal was offered: Levi would be the project manager. Snow had to be shoveled from the snow wall by the garage to a point 10 feet from the road (which Eric would shovel so the kids wouldn't be too near the road). If the job was done well enough that Eric could drive the van out that side without getting stuck, they got $30 (it started at $25, but I upped it because I couldn't imagine them doing it and if they actually did it would be WAY worth $30.). Levi could do all the work himself and get all the money, or he could "hire" workers and make deals with them for part of the earnings. However, if the van didn't make it, they got $0.
Levi and Jesse were excited about the money, but very unsure about their prospects. They decided to give it a try somewhere around 2 p.m. Sunday. We gave them some pointers on how not to waste time/energy, and they set at it. They were back in less than an hour, panting and almost completely defeated. "There's no way," Levi said. "My arms are killing me, and we barely got anything done."
We didn't say anything. After about an hour of playing inside they suited up again and said they were going to keep going. Levi said later that it was like he got 10 times as much done in that second effort than in the first, and he didn't know why (although when I asked how Jesse had done, he mentioned that Jesse just kept talking the whole time and it helped because it kept his mind off how hard the job was: ). When I looked out about an hour later and saw how much they had done, I bundled up and went out with some "energy snacks" (Valentines Day cookies the girls and I had made) and gave a lot of encouragement. They pepped up and kept digging. I called them in for supper about 1/2 hour later, and they came in and unsuited and warmed up. We didn't say anything about the job, and the light was starting to dim. Levi looked unsure about whether he wanted to go out again, and he knew that they had yet to tackle the hardest part -- the built-up wall of snow right by the garage that was blocking the way to the rest of the driveway that had not been shoveled.
He asked Jesse again and Jesse said OK, so once again they layered on snowsuits and gloves and boots and hats and coats and headed out. I cleaned up, I did a little laundry, Eric read with the girls, he did a little computer work, I did a little computer work...we completely lost track of time and the boys. I was sitting and talking with Eric and it was about 7:30 and it hit me: "Are the boys still outside?!"
Eric went out; they weren't done yet. It was totally dark and the temp was dropping fast. I had told him that Jesse definitely had to come in, but he told Levi also, that he should stop. Jesse was very glad to get his clothes off and warm pajamas on and get some hot chocolate. Eric came in with Levi, and Levi was so disappointed. "We were so close," he said. "Really?" I asked -- because although I knew they had been shoveling and really working on it, I just didn't think they could have gotten it to the point where it was truly passable. "I think I could," he said. Well, I just knew then that I couldn't make him stop. Eric had decided to go out and shovel the portion near the road, so at least it would be done before the next snow that was coming. I told Levi that I couldn't let Jesse go out again but that if he wanted to I would leave the decision up to him. He was already changed into his pajamas. The thought of a blanket and hot chocolate fought with the thought of getting it done for about 10 seconds in his eyes, then he ran upstairs and threw on those clothes again, suited up again, and headed outside.
I got everyone else ready for bed and settled into reading or some activity and then I couldn't help but bundle up myself and head outside. I fed and watered the cats first, and while I was in the chicken barn, Levi yelled, "Mom! We're going to try it! I'm riding with Dad! Watch us!"
So I stood on top of one of our snow mountains in the backyard and watched and prayed and grinned as they pulled the van out of the garage and drove it...right up the right side of the lane and onto US 40. Eric honked and beeped and they pulled it right back in the other side and back into the garage. You would've thought we all had medaled at the Olympics. Levi jumped from the van and hugged me and hugged Eric and said, "Thanks, Dad." Yes, I was near tears.
He ran inside yelling -- and this was part of what made me SO proud of him -- "We did it, Jess...we did it!" It was like he matured before our eyes and out came strength and perseverance and humility and thoughtfulness. I wanted to soak him in.
God teaches me way more through my children each day than I teach them. I'm convinced of it.
So the deal was offered: Levi would be the project manager. Snow had to be shoveled from the snow wall by the garage to a point 10 feet from the road (which Eric would shovel so the kids wouldn't be too near the road). If the job was done well enough that Eric could drive the van out that side without getting stuck, they got $30 (it started at $25, but I upped it because I couldn't imagine them doing it and if they actually did it would be WAY worth $30.). Levi could do all the work himself and get all the money, or he could "hire" workers and make deals with them for part of the earnings. However, if the van didn't make it, they got $0.
Levi and Jesse were excited about the money, but very unsure about their prospects. They decided to give it a try somewhere around 2 p.m. Sunday. We gave them some pointers on how not to waste time/energy, and they set at it. They were back in less than an hour, panting and almost completely defeated. "There's no way," Levi said. "My arms are killing me, and we barely got anything done."
We didn't say anything. After about an hour of playing inside they suited up again and said they were going to keep going. Levi said later that it was like he got 10 times as much done in that second effort than in the first, and he didn't know why (although when I asked how Jesse had done, he mentioned that Jesse just kept talking the whole time and it helped because it kept his mind off how hard the job was: ). When I looked out about an hour later and saw how much they had done, I bundled up and went out with some "energy snacks" (Valentines Day cookies the girls and I had made) and gave a lot of encouragement. They pepped up and kept digging. I called them in for supper about 1/2 hour later, and they came in and unsuited and warmed up. We didn't say anything about the job, and the light was starting to dim. Levi looked unsure about whether he wanted to go out again, and he knew that they had yet to tackle the hardest part -- the built-up wall of snow right by the garage that was blocking the way to the rest of the driveway that had not been shoveled.
He asked Jesse again and Jesse said OK, so once again they layered on snowsuits and gloves and boots and hats and coats and headed out. I cleaned up, I did a little laundry, Eric read with the girls, he did a little computer work, I did a little computer work...we completely lost track of time and the boys. I was sitting and talking with Eric and it was about 7:30 and it hit me: "Are the boys still outside?!"
Eric went out; they weren't done yet. It was totally dark and the temp was dropping fast. I had told him that Jesse definitely had to come in, but he told Levi also, that he should stop. Jesse was very glad to get his clothes off and warm pajamas on and get some hot chocolate. Eric came in with Levi, and Levi was so disappointed. "We were so close," he said. "Really?" I asked -- because although I knew they had been shoveling and really working on it, I just didn't think they could have gotten it to the point where it was truly passable. "I think I could," he said. Well, I just knew then that I couldn't make him stop. Eric had decided to go out and shovel the portion near the road, so at least it would be done before the next snow that was coming. I told Levi that I couldn't let Jesse go out again but that if he wanted to I would leave the decision up to him. He was already changed into his pajamas. The thought of a blanket and hot chocolate fought with the thought of getting it done for about 10 seconds in his eyes, then he ran upstairs and threw on those clothes again, suited up again, and headed outside.
I got everyone else ready for bed and settled into reading or some activity and then I couldn't help but bundle up myself and head outside. I fed and watered the cats first, and while I was in the chicken barn, Levi yelled, "Mom! We're going to try it! I'm riding with Dad! Watch us!"
So I stood on top of one of our snow mountains in the backyard and watched and prayed and grinned as they pulled the van out of the garage and drove it...right up the right side of the lane and onto US 40. Eric honked and beeped and they pulled it right back in the other side and back into the garage. You would've thought we all had medaled at the Olympics. Levi jumped from the van and hugged me and hugged Eric and said, "Thanks, Dad." Yes, I was near tears.
He ran inside yelling -- and this was part of what made me SO proud of him -- "We did it, Jess...we did it!" It was like he matured before our eyes and out came strength and perseverance and humility and thoughtfulness. I wanted to soak him in.
God teaches me way more through my children each day than I teach them. I'm convinced of it.
Monday, July 20, 2009
More motherhood musings...
By the time we had two children and were pregnant with the twins, we started to get more advice and offers of help. "Do whatever you have to do to get sleep yourself," one would say.
"Really, let us know when we can watch them for a few hours so you can get a break," some other brave soul would offer.
By the time our fifth came along and all were under age 5, we were blessed with help, gifts, and words of wisdom from many friends and family. And of course, we greatly appreciated all of this, as it was a very physically demanding time in our lives. Days were filled with diaper change after diaper change, nursing, holding, chasing, bathing, etc., and we had sore backs and scattered-brains to prove it.
So here we are, ages 5-9, and I'm thinking lately that we need to start a new trend in society: "child-showers", instead of baby showers. And I'm really not talking material items here (although they do go through shoes like diapers around here!). While we needed help physically in the baby years, it's the mental/emotional/intellectual torrent that leaves me ragged these days. They talk, they question, they lecture one another, they talk, they question again, they need interaction!
I can picture it now, instead of people offering burping advice or to rock the baby, they would say things to parents like me like, "You know, handling that emotional withdrawing in your daughter like this...", or "Would it be OK if I spent some time crafting with your 6-year-old?"
A girl can dream, right? ; )
"Really, let us know when we can watch them for a few hours so you can get a break," some other brave soul would offer.
By the time our fifth came along and all were under age 5, we were blessed with help, gifts, and words of wisdom from many friends and family. And of course, we greatly appreciated all of this, as it was a very physically demanding time in our lives. Days were filled with diaper change after diaper change, nursing, holding, chasing, bathing, etc., and we had sore backs and scattered-brains to prove it.
So here we are, ages 5-9, and I'm thinking lately that we need to start a new trend in society: "child-showers", instead of baby showers. And I'm really not talking material items here (although they do go through shoes like diapers around here!). While we needed help physically in the baby years, it's the mental/emotional/intellectual torrent that leaves me ragged these days. They talk, they question, they lecture one another, they talk, they question again, they need interaction!
I can picture it now, instead of people offering burping advice or to rock the baby, they would say things to parents like me like, "You know, handling that emotional withdrawing in your daughter like this...", or "Would it be OK if I spent some time crafting with your 6-year-old?"
A girl can dream, right? ; )
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Ya' gotta be quick
Me: washing dishes. Levi: just in from a basketball game with Eric.
Levi: ...really wasn't much of a game. He led the whole way and was ahead by about 20 at one point and we couldn't catch up. He kept making these shots and...
Me: (now sweeping the kitchen floor) Mmmm....uh-huh. Really...
Levi: Mom, did you ever like anyone before Dad?
Me: Uhhh....ummm...there was someone I thought was interesting, but I never liked anyone like I do Daddy.
Levi: Mom?
Me: (anticipating another momentous question) yes?
Levi: Did you know that in the final, like, 2 minutes I made 4 three-point shots? No, seriously, I did. So we got to within about 12, but then it was over.
Me: That's great.
Levi: ...really wasn't much of a game. He led the whole way and was ahead by about 20 at one point and we couldn't catch up. He kept making these shots and...
Me: (now sweeping the kitchen floor) Mmmm....uh-huh. Really...
Levi: Mom, did you ever like anyone before Dad?
Me: Uhhh....ummm...there was someone I thought was interesting, but I never liked anyone like I do Daddy.
Levi: Mom?
Me: (anticipating another momentous question) yes?
Levi: Did you know that in the final, like, 2 minutes I made 4 three-point shots? No, seriously, I did. So we got to within about 12, but then it was over.
Me: That's great.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Their point of view
This idea is going around...thought it would be enlightening. Their ages are next to their answers. Enjoy!
1. What is something mom always says to you?
9: Levi, come here!
7: Good morning!
6boy: I love you
6girl: Go upstairs
5: I love you
2. What makes mom happy?
9: When we fold all the clothes on the bed without fighting
7: Hugs
6boy: When she sees her family
6girl: When we do something right
5: Hugs
3. What makes mom sad?
9: When we do something bad that upsets you
7: When we have to leave
6boy: We really need to go, but we can't
6girl: When we do something wrong
5: When I do something bad
4. What makes your mom laugh?
9: When I don't know what I'm saying but I say something funny
7: When I tickle her
6boy: funny things
6girl: Dad
5: Daddy!
5. What was your mom like as a child?
9: She read, read, read, read, read and read
7: Nice
6boy: I never seen you like a girl!
6girl: I don't know!
5: I don't know
6. How old is your mom?
9: Hmmmm...33?
7: 34
6boy: 33
6girl: 30?
5: I don't know
7. How tall is your mom?
9: 5'3"?
7: I don't know!
6boy: I don't know
6girl: tall!
5: I can't know
8. What is her favorite thing to do?
9: Clean the house.
7: Cuddle
6boy: go to the store
6girl: Go on the computer
5: Me!
9. What does your mom do when you’re not around?
9: I don't know
7: Well, if I'm not around, I don't know.
6boy: play with others
6girl: I don't know, cook?
5: Talk
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
9: Playing the piano
7: Because you want to?
6boy: I don't know
6girl: cooking
5: Her
11. What is your mom really good at?
9: Playing the piano
7: The piano
6boy: playing the flute
6girl: cooking
5: Talking
12. What is your mom not very good at?
9: Catching a football
7: I can't think of anything
6boy: when you're playing the recorder
6girl: watching tv
5: Spelling
13. What does your mom do for her job?
9: Take care of us
7: I don't know
6boy: I don't know
6girl: helping
5: Do my pile
14. What’s your mom’s favorite food?
9: Corn on the cob
7: Corn on the cob
6boy: Macaroni and cheese?
6girl: Pizza, maybe?
5: Great-grandma's rice
15. What makes you proud of your mom?
9: I don't know!
7: There's a lot of things
6boy: Graduating
6girl: Because she's nice
5: Like you love me and I love you
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
9: Blossom the Cat
7: Sara Groves?
6boy: No one
6girl: Word Girl
5: Dora
17. What do you and your mom do together?
9: School
7: Cook
6boy: play together
6girl: Clean
5: Play
18. How are you and your mom the same?
9: We have alike hair
7: We both have blue eyes
6boy: I don't know
6girl: We love each other
5: Because we have the same skin
19. How are you and your mom different?
9: She's taller than me
7: Our hair
6boy: Because you're a girl and I'm a boy and you brush your teeth downstairs and I brush my teeth upstairs
6girl: We look different
5: We have different clothes
20. How do you know your mom loves you?
9: Because she's always wanting to kiss me.
7: Because she hugs me a lot
6boy: Because....I don't know
6girl: Because she always loves me
5: Cause you love me when you hug me and kiss
21. Where is your mom’s favorite place to go to?
9: A restaurant called Shoney's
7: I don't know
6boy: to the store!
6girl: Wal-mart
5: Wal-mart
(What I learned: they don't really even know what "famous" means, and they're so logically-minded they rarely take guesses!)
1. What is something mom always says to you?
9: Levi, come here!
7: Good morning!
6boy: I love you
6girl: Go upstairs
5: I love you
2. What makes mom happy?
9: When we fold all the clothes on the bed without fighting
7: Hugs
6boy: When she sees her family
6girl: When we do something right
5: Hugs
3. What makes mom sad?
9: When we do something bad that upsets you
7: When we have to leave
6boy: We really need to go, but we can't
6girl: When we do something wrong
5: When I do something bad
4. What makes your mom laugh?
9: When I don't know what I'm saying but I say something funny
7: When I tickle her
6boy: funny things
6girl: Dad
5: Daddy!
5. What was your mom like as a child?
9: She read, read, read, read, read and read
7: Nice
6boy: I never seen you like a girl!
6girl: I don't know!
5: I don't know
6. How old is your mom?
9: Hmmmm...33?
7: 34
6boy: 33
6girl: 30?
5: I don't know
7. How tall is your mom?
9: 5'3"?
7: I don't know!
6boy: I don't know
6girl: tall!
5: I can't know
8. What is her favorite thing to do?
9: Clean the house.
7: Cuddle
6boy: go to the store
6girl: Go on the computer
5: Me!
9. What does your mom do when you’re not around?
9: I don't know
7: Well, if I'm not around, I don't know.
6boy: play with others
6girl: I don't know, cook?
5: Talk
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
9: Playing the piano
7: Because you want to?
6boy: I don't know
6girl: cooking
5: Her
11. What is your mom really good at?
9: Playing the piano
7: The piano
6boy: playing the flute
6girl: cooking
5: Talking
12. What is your mom not very good at?
9: Catching a football
7: I can't think of anything
6boy: when you're playing the recorder
6girl: watching tv
5: Spelling
13. What does your mom do for her job?
9: Take care of us
7: I don't know
6boy: I don't know
6girl: helping
5: Do my pile
14. What’s your mom’s favorite food?
9: Corn on the cob
7: Corn on the cob
6boy: Macaroni and cheese?
6girl: Pizza, maybe?
5: Great-grandma's rice
15. What makes you proud of your mom?
9: I don't know!
7: There's a lot of things
6boy: Graduating
6girl: Because she's nice
5: Like you love me and I love you
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
9: Blossom the Cat
7: Sara Groves?
6boy: No one
6girl: Word Girl
5: Dora
17. What do you and your mom do together?
9: School
7: Cook
6boy: play together
6girl: Clean
5: Play
18. How are you and your mom the same?
9: We have alike hair
7: We both have blue eyes
6boy: I don't know
6girl: We love each other
5: Because we have the same skin
19. How are you and your mom different?
9: She's taller than me
7: Our hair
6boy: Because you're a girl and I'm a boy and you brush your teeth downstairs and I brush my teeth upstairs
6girl: We look different
5: We have different clothes
20. How do you know your mom loves you?
9: Because she's always wanting to kiss me.
7: Because she hugs me a lot
6boy: Because....I don't know
6girl: Because she always loves me
5: Cause you love me when you hug me and kiss
21. Where is your mom’s favorite place to go to?
9: A restaurant called Shoney's
7: I don't know
6boy: to the store!
6girl: Wal-mart
5: Wal-mart
(What I learned: they don't really even know what "famous" means, and they're so logically-minded they rarely take guesses!)
Sunday, March 1, 2009
So pitiful, so sweet
Illness has hit the household this week, starting on Tuesday. It starts with a pretty rotten fever, and after 24-36 hours (depending on the kid), the fevers subside and are replaced with a hacking cough that looks and sounds painful. Fun!
Leah was the fourth to get it (I was kind of thankful, because at least we know she'll be better on her birthday this week!). She complained of a headache late one evening, so we knew she would probably wake up with a fever the next morning if the pattern held true. She came down around 5 a.m. or so, crying, and saying she "can't sleep in that bed."
"Why not?" we asked.
"Every time I get back in it, it hurts me."
Oh, sweetie. So we set her up on one of the couches, which are already sick-room ready. That whole day, when we would ask her if she needed anything, she'd say, "I want to move. This couch hurts me."
She was most comfortable in our laps, all curled up, and would fall asleep there and truly rest. It reminded us of how she was the one of our babies who loved most to sleep on us. It's like all their baby patterns show up again when they get sick. Delaney, for example, was just A.Ok on that couch and didn't want to be touched or have any loud sounds and has barely eaten for about 4 days. Memories.
Leah was the fourth to get it (I was kind of thankful, because at least we know she'll be better on her birthday this week!). She complained of a headache late one evening, so we knew she would probably wake up with a fever the next morning if the pattern held true. She came down around 5 a.m. or so, crying, and saying she "can't sleep in that bed."
"Why not?" we asked.
"Every time I get back in it, it hurts me."
Oh, sweetie. So we set her up on one of the couches, which are already sick-room ready. That whole day, when we would ask her if she needed anything, she'd say, "I want to move. This couch hurts me."
She was most comfortable in our laps, all curled up, and would fall asleep there and truly rest. It reminded us of how she was the one of our babies who loved most to sleep on us. It's like all their baby patterns show up again when they get sick. Delaney, for example, was just A.Ok on that couch and didn't want to be touched or have any loud sounds and has barely eaten for about 4 days. Memories.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Team Norton, first round
Name: Delaney
Sport: Soccer
Team: Sound Solutions (otherwise known as "red and blue")
Results: games, 1 win, 1 loss, but more importantly, scrimmaged the boys and won 3-0
Name: Sara and Jesse
Sport: Soccer
Team: Covenant Engineering (don't you think he'll pick up a lot of engineering work from that advertising?)
Results: won first game 9-1; Sara scored 3, Jesse scored 3 -- are they twins or what?
Name: Levi
Sport: Football
Team: National Trail Blazers
Results: won first game against Twin Valley South 19-6; he played running back on offense and various backfield on defense; once again got the wind knocked out of him when he and his friend Jacob ran the double reverse fake where Jacob ends up with the ball while the entire defense thinks Levi has it; Mom is starting not to like that play!
Name: Leah
Sport: Bag-packing
Team: It's all me
Results: Successfully thrived through a week with 2 games, 2 scrimmages, and 4 practices; Consumed untold amounts of twizzlers, fruit snacks, raisins, goldfish crackers and water; Never got left behind at any ball field!
Thursday, May 15, 2008
This post is for me
I held a four-and-a-half-month-old this week. Our neighbor was babysitting him for a friend and brought him across the road to chat. It's taken me a while to get to this point, but I'm definitely in the nostalgic-about-babies phase. (Most people, I understand, would have their next baby at this point, but since we all know OUR backstory on that, we'll just move on. I'm content to put the whole burden of producing offspring on my sister!)
Anyway, my point here is that my children are growing quickly, and I can't seem to keep up. Someone's always saying or doing or drawing or singing something amazing each day -- times five -- and most days I can't seem to get my head out of my laundry pile and focus my full attention on them, for a real, true moment. So right now, for me, I am going to write, and capture a bit of who they are, this day. Youngest first, don't you think?
Leah Hope
There are no words to describe how much she is her own person, even at age 4. She plans her days as if the whole world awaits her announcement of the agenda. Every fork, carrot, toothbrush, pencil is a imaginary character that wants to play with a similar item in her sister Sara's hands, and every other moment is spent evading work with her brother Jesse. For her and only her, tough big brother Levi will put toothpaste on, tie a shoe, buckle a seat belt and accept a kiss. Her highest aims are to do "reading lessons" like her twin siblings, and hop on one foot for a long time. She gives four kisses, every time, and tries to sneak in a fifth.
Sara Jeanne
Imagine very light, big, clear blue eyes staring innocently up at you, while the whole time you can almost see the gears turning furiously as the five-year-old "good" twin tries to figure out how to stay out of trouble without lying. She is curious! She wants to know everything, about everyone, all the time. Joy abounds at the mention of peanut butter and jelly, but her whole body slumps when anything appears in the shape of a casserole dish. She produces seemingly endless works of beautiful art every morning, all of which she expects will be displayed appropriately. She loves to read, and is figuring out more words each day. She makes friends more easily than any of her siblings, but never, never with a dog.
Jesse Harold
What goes on in that mind? If he notices you noticing him, he reacts with a quick huge grin and two fully extended arms asking for a hug. He plays the best by himself of any of them, but would never ask to do so. He loves to sleep, but doesn't ever complain when his big brother rouses him out of bed each morning. Eye contact is an absolute when giving him instructions, because it seems he usually assumes that no one could really be just talking to him. He basks in praise from anyone, but especially his older brother. He cheerfully -- and very accurately -- completes math problems said older brother has created for him each day, content to just be doing what Levi is doing. He is quick to laugh, quick to help, and very quick to love.
Delaney Kay
I can barely write about her without crying. Six years old is her element, I guess. She leaves us amazed each day with her witticisms and thoughtfulness and obstinacy and intelligence and bossiness. She.loves.to.sing...and the bigger the words in the older the hymn, the better. She directs the group playtime of herself and the younger three each day until Levi bribes her heavily enough to convince her to join him in something and bring along her gang. The newer the food, the more mixed up it looks, the better. Nothing cheers her more than the announcement that it's a "big workin' day!" She lives to write stories, organize/sort clothes, and visit her Nanny and Grandma.
Levi Matthew
A dear friend told me that I would love all my children, but that my love for my son, my firstborn, would be a "fierce" love. I live that every day. This tall, intelligent 8-year-old looks at me each morning and all I want to do is grab him and kiss his head all over. But then he starts complaining and I want to whop him with my dishrag. He will whine and wheedle, trying to get out of chores or schoolwork, but he's actually the one who always does the work. He will complain that something is not very fun, but wouldn't miss doing it with you for the world. If he could sit quietly beside his dad the entire day, every day, that's what he would do. He remembers everything, and understands about that much.
I am so thankful for each one of them.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Kid - 1, Mother - 0
I realize, now, that I have been coasting. We've been diaper-free for more than a year. Everyone dresses themselves. I can read my own books in the corner of the children's section of the library for quite a long time without any shushing. As a bonus, we get lots of hugs and spontaneous "I love you" 's and "thank you, God, for my dad and mom" prayers. I really like these ages.
I'm taking my cues from society, I guess. It tells me that the babies are demanding, and toddlers are terrible, and just wait (!) until they're teenagers. But I have never gotten any warnings about oh, say, 8-year-olds. Which must be why I was so caught off guard this week, as we ventured out for a long walk and playtime in the finally-warm weather, at a local park. We had a great time together throwing rocks in the creek, and finding interesting things to look at on the trail. When we got to the large playground, the four youngest ran off to climb and play. Levi, however, camped beside me on the picnic table. When a neighbor friend of his -- whom we haven't see all winter -- strolled up with his mom, Levi camped beside me at the picnic table. I said, repeatedly, in various forms, (sounding very much like a voice from my past) "Go play."
He said, repeatedly, "No. I don't want to."
After an hour or so of trying to have a conversation with my neighbor, while talking over the head -- literally -- of my suddenly-statuesque 8-year-old, we headed home. He asked me, in the truck, "Do you want to know why I didn't want to play on the playground?"
"Yes!" I said. "I really do."
"I didn't want to play with the little kids," he said, as if I should have known.
Oh. Yes, of course. The little kids, who are, like, seven.
At the end of the warm weather last year, he was the first one out of the truck and on the top of the monkey bars (and I'm sure we'll still have more of that this year). Someone could have mentioned to me that I should have buckled myself in a little earlier for the roller coaster of "I'm old/I'm just a kid". Didn't you remember my motion sickness?
I'm taking my cues from society, I guess. It tells me that the babies are demanding, and toddlers are terrible, and just wait (!) until they're teenagers. But I have never gotten any warnings about oh, say, 8-year-olds. Which must be why I was so caught off guard this week, as we ventured out for a long walk and playtime in the finally-warm weather, at a local park. We had a great time together throwing rocks in the creek, and finding interesting things to look at on the trail. When we got to the large playground, the four youngest ran off to climb and play. Levi, however, camped beside me on the picnic table. When a neighbor friend of his -- whom we haven't see all winter -- strolled up with his mom, Levi camped beside me at the picnic table. I said, repeatedly, in various forms, (sounding very much like a voice from my past) "Go play."
He said, repeatedly, "No. I don't want to."
After an hour or so of trying to have a conversation with my neighbor, while talking over the head -- literally -- of my suddenly-statuesque 8-year-old, we headed home. He asked me, in the truck, "Do you want to know why I didn't want to play on the playground?"
"Yes!" I said. "I really do."
"I didn't want to play with the little kids," he said, as if I should have known.
Oh. Yes, of course. The little kids, who are, like, seven.
At the end of the warm weather last year, he was the first one out of the truck and on the top of the monkey bars (and I'm sure we'll still have more of that this year). Someone could have mentioned to me that I should have buckled myself in a little earlier for the roller coaster of "I'm old/I'm just a kid". Didn't you remember my motion sickness?
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