See the Good

After a day of car maintenance (done by a repairman, not me) and grocery shopping (price matching for the win!), the girls and I were driving home to refrigerate our yogurt and milk before quickly leaving to get the boys from school. I was watching the clock, estimating how much time I would have to unload the groceries before we started our walk.

The red light I had been waiting on changed to green and I realized all the cars in front of me were changing lanes. All the cars, except one. I followed suit, just in time for the light to change to red again. I glanced over to my right at the older model red car, hazards blinking, a petite grandma in the driver's seat.

I looked at the clock. Did I have time to stop? And if I did stop, what service could I provide? I was debating my next move when I saw two road construction workers in the turn lane to my left. They were unloading equipment, preparing to start their work.

"Please see that woman," I thought. "Come on, look over there."

While one pulled something heavy from their truck, the other glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the woman. I saw a quick moment of decision pass over his face, then he gestured to his coworker to put the machine down and follow him. I watched as the two men walked over to the woman, asked how they could help, and prepared to push her car out of traffic and into the parking lot of a gas station on the opposite corner. The light changed and I drove off as they helped her out of her car.

I'm sure those two men have no idea I was watching their actions. Nor will they ever know how deeply impressed I was. I saw a need, but didn't have the resources to help. They did and they put those resources to good use.

There are good people in the world.

Support Your Public Library

Our last two libraries capped the number of items that could be checked out on one account. Between me and the kids (Bryan mostly listens to Audible these days, so he's not part of the total book count), we maxed out that number a few times. Then I would have to make the hard choice of which books could come home with us and which books would stay at the library.

Our new library has no item limit.

The girls and I went to the library this morning. The boys had made some requests and I did my best to get a wide enough selection that everyone would have something to read. Actually. both boys read everything I bring home, regardless of who it was checked out for, but I do try to pick up a few books with each of them specifically in mind. As we finished at the self-checkout I glanced at the total number of items checked out: eighty. We have seventy-nine books and one CD currently checked out on our account.

I think I may need a library intervention...

Weird Science

Sometimes Peter likes to make up science, then he asks me to make a movie and put it on YouTube.

Everything's Better in Costume

Taming the Jungle

I did something today that I've never done before. I mowed the lawn. Yes, in my thirty-five years previous to today I had never pushed a large, blade wielding machine around my yard.

Bryan's schedule is kind of ridiculous this year so he hadn't been able to cut the grass in the two months we've lived here. I kept watching the lawn get taller and taller. Today I stood looking at it thinking, "Boy, I hope Bryan has time to cut the grass on Saturday." Then another thought interrupted that one, "Wait, I can do it!"

The girls played on the patio with chalk and bikes while I mowed the back lawn, far away from where they were sitting. After a break for lunch and putting Sophie down for a nap, I did the side and the part nearest the patio. After we came home from getting the boys I finished the other side. All told it probably took me three hours to do. I stopped a few times to pull weeds and run from aggressive wasps (we think there's an underground nest in the back of the yard), but otherwise that time was spent mowing.

The lawn looks awesome.

The kids loved being able to play out there without hiking gear.

Bryan was really glad to see it was done.

And I'm so very sore, but at least I've got something to show for the pain.

Darkness Falls

Sophie has recently discovered the dark. At bedtime, if she thinks too many lights have been turned off, she'll call out, "Dark! Dark!" until Bryan or I turn a light back on. Usually her tone is informational, sort of a "I'm not sure if you're aware mom, but it just got really dark in here and I think you should do something about it" kind of vibe.

Last night both girls were tucked into bed and chatting loudly while I was reading to Cooper. After a few minutes I realized that Phoebe was calling me. I stayed in Cooper's room and asked what was wrong. "Sophie shut the door." Then my ears tuned in to hear Sophie, no longer talking in her overtired giddiness, but whimpering one word over and over: dark.

I quickly got up and walked to the girls' closed door. Pushing it open, I saw Sophie standing in her bed, well within arm's reach of the door. She had tears streaming down her face and when she saw me her whimpering turned to pleading. I knelt by her bed and hugged her.

Me: Did it get dark in here?

Sophie: (nods)

Me: But dark is okay, especially at bedtime. Dark is when we sleep.

Sophie: (pointing her face, just under her eye) I di

Me: Did you cry?

Sophie: (nods again and reaches out for another hug)

It was sad and adorable at the same time. After some more comforting and another light turned on outside her room, she fell asleep.

I'm not sure how Sophie learned that the dark was scary, but she has certainly formed that opinion.

Freezer, Again

Four and a half years ago, as part of our preparation to go back to school for Bryan's MBA, we bought a chest freezer. I loved it. I used it all the time. Then, just over a year later, we had to move to Wisconsin and all our belongings went into a storage unit. Expect for the freezer, because it simply didn't fit. We gave the beloved appliance to Bryan's aunt and uncle, which softened the blow of parting company with it.

For the past month I've toyed with the idea of doing one of the "Make Forty Freezer Meals in Four Hours" projects that get shared on Facebook and Pinterest. Our afternoons are full, not with extracurricular activities, but with homework and piano practicing and (while the weather is lovely) playing at the park. This has left little time for dinner prep. But such a project would mean buying another freezer, and I wasn't sure I was ready to commit to such a big purchase. Then we learned that mice were living in our oven. That made slow cooker freezer meals sound more appealing. 

Our landlord came by to clean out the oven a week and a half ago. It didn't go so well and, in addition to still being nervous about the cleanliness of the oven, we discovered that two of the burners on our stove stopped functioning properly. That night I announced to Bryan that the girls and I would be buying a freezer from Costco the next day.

And we did.

I even hauled it from the van into the dining room with Phoebe as my cheerleader. Then I set about finding freezer meals to make to put inside our lovely new acquisition.

Concerned about the burners, particularly the strong odor of natural gas that filled the kitchen when we turned them on, we contacted the landlord again. He came this past Sunday morning before church and opened the top of the stove to investigate. That caused the gas lines to completely detach from the burners, thus breaking the stove. Bryan turned off the gas to the entire unit, just to be safe.

The good news is that our landlord gave us a credit voucher to go buy a new oven. The bad news is that it might be two weeks before we actually get the oven. This makes me extra thankful that I spent ALL DAY Saturday making those freezer meals I'd been planning. I only made twenty-three meals and it definitely took longer than the few hours the internet promised. Of course, the bloggers who created these lists may not have had four children running through their house the whole time they were cooking, so that might have thrown off the estimate a bit.

During the week leading up to the project I gathered recipes and labeled the freezer bags. I also bought the ingredients, which included crazy amounts of meat.

I chopped all the produce at once. This was my first food prep step. Not shown: two red onion and two white potatoes.

After the fruits and veggies were bagged, Sophie acted as my sous chef and helped me bring all the spices and sauces to the table. This step (adding the ingredients to the bags, not carrying them to the table) took a loooooooong time.

Here are the meals, all ready for meat. After we got the kids in bed for the night, Bryan took the lead on cutting chicken, pork, and beef while I read directions and added the final ingredient to each bag. We spent about two hours doing this.

The final result.

So far we've eaten Parmesan Honey Pork Chops (which were delicious and will be made again) and Orange Chicken (which was just okay and will probably be replaced with a different recipe). I was hoping that the meals would last a few months if we spaced them out between simple meals like pasta, pizza, and salad. Now that we're eating them every night I'm afraid we're going to blow through them pretty quickly, but at least we won't have to eat fast food during our two weeks without an oven.

Sing Out Loud, Sing Out Strong

Yesterday was the annual Primary Program for our ward. I insisted that each child practice their line several times before the actual program. After four or five deliveries, Cooper, in a state of exasperation, said, "The teachers told us it doesn't matter how we say it, just that we say it." Bryan confirmed that he had overheard some of the Primary leaders coaching the more timid children that they just needed to say the words, probably in an attempt to ease their nervousness. I told my kids that advice didn't apply to them, it did matter how they said it, and then we kept practicing.

Consequently, all three of my children that were old enough to participate delivered their lines clearly and loudly.

Bryan and Sophie and I sat in the congregation and grinned at the kids while they sang. (It's the closest thing to a date we've had in ages.) Phoebe was expressive and obviously knew all the songs. Cooper looked so happy to be participating and knew most of the songs. Peter didn't sing much and didn't look particularly happy to be there, but at least he stayed in his seat when he was supposed to and earned a candy bar from his Primary teacher for his good behavior, so that's something.

Peter sat in the back row on the podium, Cooper sat in the row in front of that. Phoebe's class sat in chairs on risers that had been brought in and placed in front of the podium. In other words, the entire congregation had a great view of Phoebe while she poked at and played with the kids on either side of her. Her poor teacher tried to halt the impromptu play date, but alas, Sacrament Meeting proved an ideal time for merriment.

Bryan and I were stressing out over her disruptions and had her apologize to her teacher afterward. We shouldn't had worried too much though. I had several people come up to me during the next two hours of the block and tell me that Phoebe and her shenanigans were their favorite part of the program. I guess one parent's stress is another parent's entertainment.

Role Reversal

One Last Thing

I've written (probably more than necessary) that bedtime is tricky. And by tricky, I mean hard. Part of the reason is that, after refraining from sharing details of the school day all afternoon and evening, the boys suddenly what to tell us everything. I've spent many years trying to listen to all they want to tell me, then feeling guilty when I couldn't listen anymore.

A few weeks ago I was tucking Peter in after the other kids were asleep. He had a million things he wanted to tell me and I was almost out of brain power. As he was launching into another story, I stopped him. I said he could pick one last thing to tell me. Anything else would need to wait until morning. This frustrated him at first. He didn't want to choose one thing, he wanted to say ALL the things. But I was firm and he told me one last thing.

The next night I did the same thing. He was a little less frustrated and quickly figured out what he wanted to tell me. The night after that when we did bedtime I said, "Okay Peter, say your prayers, then we'll do your song and one last thing." And just like that, it's now a part of our bedtime routine.

Cooper overheard Peter saying his one last thing, and he wanted to do it too. Now Cooper's routine consists of prayers, a story, a song, and one last thing. Maybe that sounds like a lot, but I guarantee that it's much quicker than bedtime used to be. Sometimes they choose to tell me something that happened that day, sometimes it's something they're curious about or looking forward to.

Whatever they tell me, it's a nice moment where they talk and I listen.

Our Normal Cacophony

The Fountain of Youth

According to this article from MSN health, there are certain foods and drinks that can keep you looking young. Number two on the list? Watermelon. I consume an impressive amount of watermelon every summer, as do my children. And I've loved watermelon for as long as I can remember. As a kid I would eat it all the way to the green of the rind.

When Bryan and I were engaged and planning our reception, my mom and I went to speak to a baker about a cake. When she realized I was the bride her eyes grew wide and she said, "Wait, you're getting married? Are you even sixteen yet?" I quickly told her I was almost twenty-one. My dad and siblings all have similar stories about people thinking they're much younger than they are.

Appearing young is certainly in my genes, but maybe my lifelong love of watermelon has helped my youthful glow...

Don't Bother Me, I'm Reading

Peter didn't want to go to school today. He said it was because he wanted to stay home and read. He also said he broke his back and couldn't walk, so I'm not sure how reliable the reading excuse is. However, at the start of the year he said he wouldn't do extra-curricular activities because he didn't want to give up more reading time.

His teacher wants me to keep track of all the minutes he reads each day. We've done an abysmal job thus far. I'm tempted to write a note that says, "To Peter reading is like breathing, he does it all the time. Please mark your grade book accordingly."

I finally got him out of bed this morning when I said I would take him to school in his pajamas and bare feet if I had to. I suspect that he had other reasons for not wanting to go, but I'm beginning to wonder if the hobby I've always encouraged and praised is taking over. Can you have too much of a good thing?

Little Miss Independent

Starry Night

We have a crayon reproduction of Van Gogh's Starry Night that lives on the wall of our playroom. Cooper sat in front of it one day while we were still in New Jersey, a piece of paper and a box of crayons in his hands. Then he went to work. This was the result. It's unfinished, but shows great potential.

Accessories

Ready to Talk, Ready to Listen

Last night at bedtime Peter called me in to talk. He does this as a diversionary tactic almost every night so I came close to refusing. But I forced myself in and tried hard to listen rather than scold. It's a good thing I did. Instead of the standard delay, he started by saying, "You know how sometimes I have hard days? Well, all the days here have been hard."

And he's right. I don't usually start getting phone calls from his teacher until October, but I got one last week. His behavior at home has been exceptionally out of control as well; though it hasn't been the normal arguing. He's been zany. Hyper. Wacky. Picture a herd of yappy chihuahuas colliding with a shipment of pogo sticks during a silly string hurricane, that's pretty close to how things have felt here. I look at that and think, "How ridiculous that a little goofiness would throw our whole family into so much chaos?"

But it does.

Bryan and I have spent a lot of time talking and praying and researching. We've got the school working with us as well. Bryan has said a few times that something else is going on, something that we don't know about. All of my motherly detective work has been for naught, until last night.

Based on the forty minutes that Peter talked and I listened, our current dilemma boils down to two things: moving is hard and being different takes courage.

When Peter feels out of place, one thing he does is try to make people laugh. This is how he made friends when he was little and he thinks it should work the same way now. The degree to which he's felt like an outsider should have been evident from his aforementioned behavior. He's working so hard at being funny and silly, but what worked in Kindergarten and first grade doesn't work in fourth grade. And it's not just that they're getting older. The kids in Utah are different from the kids in Washington. The kids in Washington are different from the kids in New Jersey. The kids in New Jersey are different from the kids in Illinois. Peter, being a mixture of all four, is different from everyone. He doesn't understand the societal norms that govern our new home and he's getting tired of trying to figure them out. So am I, frankly. Making friends, no matter how outgoing you are, is hard. It takes energy and time and commitment. And I think he and I are both feeling stretched thin.

Now that he's in fourth grade, his peers are starting to say and do things that make him really uncomfortable. He told me that lots of the kids swear. Bad language has always bothered me, so I certainly empathize with him. He also said that all the kids in his school class (and some in his church class) watch PG-13 movies. They talk about the movies and he can't contribute to the conversation because we don't let our kids watch those yet. Since he read "The Hobbit" we've considered watching that with him, but I'm still on the fence.

When he came to a stopping point (Peter is never done talking, but if you pay attention you can find moments when he pauses), I took a deep breath and started talking.

As far as making friends, I suggested that he take the next week to watch and listen, find out what these kids like and how they play, then adjust his techniques appropriately. This requires a level of maturity that Peter simply doesn't have yet. Even so, I think the practice could help him. Now, I'm not telling him to change who he is so people will like him. But it is an important skill to learn how to read your audience and understand how to communicate so they'll understand and respond. That's what I told him, in nine-year-old jargon.

My counsel on the other matter was quite different. I didn't spend much time on it, but I told him that sometimes it's important to not be the same as everyone else. I asked him if he used those foul words and he said no. I told him that I don't either. That makes us different from the other kids, but different in a good way. I also said that as members of the church we tend to be very different from those around us because of our beliefs and the activities we will and will not take part in. And that's a good thing.

We prayed together and I prayed a lot on my own. After more talking, I said goodnight and he finally dropped off to sleep.

I am so thankful that he was ready to tell me his concerns, but I know that telling me does not wash them away. How can I give him the tools he needs to navigate the ups and downs of being a kid? I'm used to being socially awkward and kind of weird, though now as an adult I can call it quirky, but it took time for me to own that and be comfortable with it. How can I help him get there too?

Much like moving, being a parent is hard.

Change in Score

One correction on Friday's post: our total has gone from one to four. And the mice are, or have been, living in the insulation of our oven.

The landlord has been contacted.

Thankfully we have a solid supply of breakfast cereal to keep us fed, cause you don't have to use the oven for that!

Sometimes You Just Have to Express Yourself Through Song

Sung to the tune of Camptown Races:

On the counters, near the walls, do da do da.
Will they scurry down the halls? Oh the do da day.

Gonna catch some mice
Think they're worse than lice
Dealt with them in other homes,
This time makes it thrice.

Cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the floor, do da do da
Yet they still come back for more. Oh the do da day.

So far we've caught one.
No, it wasn't fun.
Won't cook at home until they leave.
When will this be done?

There, that feels better.

Cub Scout Camp

Also from the draft file, I found this picture of Peter at Cub Scout camp. This was in Oregon at his first Cub Scout day camp shortly before we moved away from Washington. He loved scout camp and was especially good at archery. He still laughs about the funny counselors that worked there and the silly skits they performed.

He enjoyed this summer's cub scout camp in New Jersey as well. It turns out that Peter is on his best scout behavior when he's at camp.

A Peter Story

I was looking for an old blog post to reference today, and I came across this unpublished post. This predates the blog by seven months and was part of an email I wrote December 10, 2007. I was pregnant with Cooper at the time and Peter was a sweet and active not-quite-two-year-old. Based on this anecdote, it looks like I've always  been impressed by my children's linguistic accomplishments.

Today Peter used the word has correctly. I let him take Mickey Mouse in the car on the way to the grocery store. While I was driving I flipped the mirror down to look at him and asked what he was doing and he said, as he pulled on the tags on the back of Mickey, "Mickey Mouse has tags too." We changed his shirt today because the tags in the back were scratching his neck. Before he would use had or have, this is the first correct use of has that I know of. And it was a really well-formed sentence. Pretty cool.

The Flower Picking Possiblities of a Jungley Backyard