Halloween Preview

The kids attended a Halloween party this year, so I got to see them in their costumes early. Grant's is the only one that is new. I ordered this bat costume online a month ago, and when it came in the mail, Grant screamed, "No!" at it, then he hit it and ran upstairs to show me his costume from last year hanging in the closet. I told him that the frog costume was Scott's, and then Grant got even more mad. But somehow, holiday air worked its magic on Grant, and by the time the party rolled around, Grant wanted to wear his costume (hood and all) all day long.

Nicole's a princess. Again. This year, she wanted to be Lucy, from The Chronicles of Narnia. Two months ago, I bought the pattern, fabric, trim, etc. One week before the party, I started the dress. The night of the party, I almost finished the dress. I had Nicole try it on so I could see how much to hem, and that's when I discovered that the dress was clearly TOO big. I mean, HUGE. So we dug out her princess costume from last year, and it barely fit. Sweet thing didn't even complain about wearing the same costume over. She's totally fine waiting a whole year before wearing the Lucy dress.
Scott's costume ought to also look familiar. I suppose we already know what Scott will be next year. That's the downside of being the little brother.

Scotty got too hot (he's just like his dad that way). So we stripped him down to his diaper and gave him a project to work on. He chewed on that Twix for twenty minutes before getting any chocolate out of it. If he thought that was fun, wait until he gets a taste of Halloween night!

My Favorite Holiday

I think it's because my birthday is in October, but I really love Halloween. I love it more than any of the other holidays. Even more than Christmas. In fact, I like it more than all of the other holidays combined. Halloween is a big deal to me. Spooky stuff, candy, kids, costumes ... it's all about things I love!

When I was younger, I went through a ten-year phase where I read and watched all of the scary books and movies that I could find. This was followed by ten years of me trying to forget all of the scary books and movies because I finally got creeped out to the max.

So I recommend not watching these movies on Halloween this year:
The Shining
The Changeling
The Sixth Sense
Seven
Psycho (or anything by Alfred Hitchcock -- I loved his series on Nick at Nite)

Also, one should not let their tweens read any of these stories:
The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe
Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz
Wait 'Til Helen Comes by Mary Downing Hahn
My Sweet Audrina by V.C. Andrews
And definitely stay away from Stephen King! There's something wrong with that man.

Instead, one might consider a perfectly adorable Halloween picture book for children, such as Room on the Broom by Julia Donaldson or a movie as benign as Clue.

Happy Halloween partying tomorrow!

Uh, Thank You?

Nicole said to me as she was looking at my wedding picture, "Wow, Mom, you were skinny when you got married! Now you're just a little bit fat."

I gave her a sarcastic "thank you," which she hinted, so then she added, "Mom, just a teensy bit fat. Like, not very much."

Sweetness

I've inadvertently let Grant slip out of the nap habit. We do school in the morning, and our YMCA pool is only open during the afternoon. So we've been swimming, and playing at the park, and feeding ducks, and collecting acorns, and it's been so much fun. But we haven't been having naps (Scotty hardly either ... I'm afraid it might stunt his growth if this trend continues!).

So one fine day last week, even though we didn't go swimming or anywhere else at all, Grant didn't want to take a nap. Fine. Go to bed early then.

I like having quiet evenings to myself. It's just that sometimes the hours leading up to the quiet evening can be, well, not so quiet. Case in point, last night while Grant was in the bath, I prepared dinner. As part of dinner, I set aside a bowl of applesauce for both Nicole and Grant. (If you're a mom who has ever had a two-year-old, you can see where this is going. As a side note, we went to dinner at the hospital with Clint the other night. It was our first time in probably a month. I can't remember why right now, but on the way out of the cafeteria, Grant threw the biggest screaming and kicking fit right in front of an older couple and their grown-up daughter. So embarrassing. I looked at the daughter and said, "He's two, and that's all I can say." She laughed more than she should have and replied, "We've all been there." I'm grateful for people like her.) For after dinner, I had tasty no-bake cookies resting on the counter. Grant bolted downstairs for dinner, and immediately found the cookies first. (Uh-oh.) I was upstairs with Scotty and heard Nicole chide, "Grant, you have to eat your applesauce and meat before you can have a cookie. Grant! No! GRAAAAANT!!" I started down the stairs to diffuse the situation when I heard a shatter. I knew it was the applesauce. Grant likes applesauce. But not when he's tired and wants a cookie for dinner instead.

I met Grant in the kitchen, which then had applesauce all over the floor mixed with at least a hundred shards of white ceramic. So much fun to clean up. It's the highlight of my month. I can't wait for next month when I can do it again. I placed Scotty in his baby-toy-seat-thingy and told Grant how naughty his behavior was, even though he already knew, as evidenced by him covering his diaper-padded bottom with both hands and desperately repeating, "No hurt, Mom."

I sent him to his room while I cleaned up. I was going to make him go to bed without dinner, but then I thought that was too cruel. So I called him down to eat, which he gratefully did. But then he started acting really, completely, annoyingly obnoxious again, so I sent him to bed, for real this time. He went, but he wasn't happy about it. After ten minutes or so, all was quiet, and I took Scotty in to go to bed also. Grant was lying on a pillow on the floor (by choice), and I approached him to give him a goodnight kiss. He covered his face with his hands and said, "No, Mom," but I moved one hand and kissed his baby cheek anyway and told him I loved him and would see him in the morning.

Just before I walked out the door, I heard Grant make a kissing sound, which was my cue to walk back to him. So I did, and he gave me a hug and a kiss goodnight.

Thank You

The night I decided to homeschool, I called a friend who has been homeschooling for years. She told me tips, secrets, and things she wished she had known earlier. Just before getting off the phone, I confided that I was scared. She said, "Lorena, do it. You'll be surprised at the safety net that will catch you."

I gathered my courage and jumped. It wasn't as hard as I had been anticipating, and that whole safety net thing ... it was there, just like I had been told it would be. So many people that I love, respect and admire called me to give encouragement. Others emailed me support, some of which I would like to share with you. I haven't asked anyone for permission, so I'm omitting their names.

• Homeschooling is a big undertaking, but I totally applaud you for doing it. I love your ideas! Nicole is a lucky girl and will learn so much more with you as her guide.
• I respect you for your homeschooling decision. I'm wowed at your love for your daughter and ambition to do that.
• It looks like you're making [homeschooling] a fantastic experience.
• I was a little jealous when I found out you are homeschooling Nicole.
• I think this new adventure in learning can be a wonderful experience for both of you.

Thank you, everyone! Your words have meant so much to me over the course of our first month of homeschooling. In addition to all of the kind words I have received, I've also been asked many questions. But no question more than this: What do the boys do while you and Nicole are doing school?

A. They come along with us! We begin every morning with a prayer, a song, a scripture, calendar, weather, journal and silent reading. Grant participates in all of this with Nicole and me. Scotty is usually taking his morning nap at this time. But in case he's awake, we have set up a playpen in the classroom so he can be where all the action is! Grant loves to "silent read" with Nicole. Sometimes she reads to him, sometimes they listen to a book on tape, and sometimes they sit next to each other completely silent, immersed in their own books. It's one of my favorite parts of the day ... and not just because it gives me fifteen minutes of quiet around here (although that is a perk).
I hope it's a habit that sticks with them forever. I love, love, love reading, even though I rarely sit down with a novel anymore. By rarely, I mean the last time I read a novel was more than a year ago, and it wasn't even that good. But now Nicole and I (and Grant when he wants to) will be reading great novels together, and I hope they will love reading as much as I do.

Grant also participates in our art projects. The other day Nicole found a way to feed the birds in our neighborhood.
The project was in the back of one of her books, so we tried it out. Grant loves this sort of stuff.
Of course, Nicole had a great time, too.
We put the feeders on our small trees in the backyard, and wouldn't you know that we haven't seen one bird since? I don't know what's happened to them.
We're going to the park tomorrow, so we're taking our bird treats with us to see if we can get any takers there. It's full of seagulls, so I'm sure we'll come home empty-handed.
Our first three and a half weeks of homeschool took place all over the house. No joke. Every single room, even the small space under our stairs, formerly known as the Treehouse. Within no time at all, I had boxes full of art supplies, library books on the counter and both coffee tables, in the spare room and in both of the kids' bedrooms, and I just couldn't take it any longer. So I cleared out the spare room, which contained, until that point, the only TV, my sewing machine and accompanying mess, and the ironing mountain of clothes and accessories.

And in came structure! We moved Grant's large desk in, several bookshelves, the playpen for Scotty, containers for papers and games, and a bedding set (thanks to my sister-in-law, although it wasn't originally intended for this purpose) for our reading area. We bought the maps and have been adding decorations all around the room as we go. You can't see it in the picture, but the wall behind the door (when it is open) is our art wall. Nicole and Grant both display their favorite work there.

We call it "The Classroom," and it is easily (I'm not just saying this) our favorite room in the house. I think the kids like it so much because when I'm in there, they get my complete attention. That's something that isn't guaranteed anywhere else in the house, since I'm a complete multi-tasker. But there's a sweet, little aura about the classroom that just feels good being in there. It's like time stops when you walk in.

I realize that I'm very fortunate to have a room to set aside for this purpose. Nicole just doesn't like working in her bedroom all by herself while I'm downstairs doing laundry, dishes, making lunch, whatever. She doesn't like to feel isolated and cut off from the family. And that's one of the bigger reasons that I wanted to homeschool -- so she could be with the family, not stuck in a dungeon cranking out worksheets.

I've read about so many different homeschool methods, and I don't know if we really have adopted any of them at all. We're covering the essentials, plus some, and we do it as a whole family (minus Dad and sometimes Scott). Before I began, I had no idea how this decision would impact all of the children.

I shudder to think about Nicole not being home with me every day. Every time I see her former school bus drive past my kitchen window, a chill runs down my spine to think that she could have been on it. And I could have still been home trying to conjure up ways to get her to be happy away from home (like volunteering at her school once a week or picking out library books that show kids having a great time at school/overcoming the bullies/going on cool field trips or packing her very favorite foods for lunch -- which she never had enough time to eat).

One month under our belt, and I have NO regrets. I have loved every minute of it. Every. Single. Minute. So once again, thank you friends and family for encouraging me along. Your words have helped me to know that I really was making the right choice for us and that all of my efforts would pay off in huge dividends, the likes of which are just beginning to roll in.

Some Months Are So Lonely

Particularly the months where my husband works 90 hours a week.

Ninety hours of work in the hospital each week leaves twenty minutes per day for commuting to and fro, ten minutes to eat dinner two hours later than the rest of the family, thirty seconds to kiss each child before they fall asleep for the night, two minutes to brush your teeth and say your prayers, and one minute to talk to your wife before your eyelids close involuntarily in the middle of your last sentence for the day.

And then we start over.

Sometimes I wonder why it has to be this way. Shouldn't everyone work as little as required to make the mortgage and put food on the table, and then spend the rest of their minutes shamelessly rolling down hills in the park with the children and eating ice cream cones? I miss my husband terribly, and so do the kids. Every time Grant hears a helicopter overhead (three times a day?), he thinks it is Clint's truck coming around the corner. He bolts for the garage at top speed, yelling, "Daddy, home!" I try to stop him, but he always gets past me, and comes back into the house deflated and reports, "Daddy no cars."

When Clint was working nights, he and Grant used to take naps together. Some days it was the only way I could get Grant to sleep. Always the same routine -- Clint slept on his side of our bed, and Grant slept on my side. The other night, when Clint was working his 24-26 hour shift, Grant told me that he wanted to sleep with Dad. He pulled the covers of our bed down, fluffed Clint's pillow, and patted it as he said, "Dad." He laid his little head down on my pillow, and I didn't have the heart to tell him that Daddy wasn't coming home that night.

Some days, it doesn't seem fair.

And then I think of my husband's patients and how much they need him, too. And I've wondered if being a doctor is a sort of calling in life. Clint feels such an obligation to care for the sick. Obligation not meaning something that he is forced to do. Obligation meaning he is drawn to his patients and can't bear to leave their side until they are stable or under the careful watch of another doctor he trusts.

I think it's probably a calling. If not, then why give your whole self and every good minute of the day to its purpose? And if so, then would it not follow that it is also a calling to be a doctor's wife and children? I think of doctors in the days when they still made house calls, and when they willingly and knowingly exposed themselves to all sorts of deadly illnesses to care for those around them. Surely some of those doctors had wives and children at home? It appears that all of them reverenced and sacrificed for the profession.

Some things never change. Heaven help us.

Restitution

When I was little, I loved to go to the library. My mom dropped me off at the pool, and I would swim until it closed (6pm?). Then I walked to the library, which was next door. And she picked me up there when it closed (9pm for sure). I loved this. I sat in the library and read for hours all by myself.

One day, my dad took me to the library. And he actually got out of the car and went inside. It's the only time I ever remember being inside a library with my dad. He found a book that he must have loved as a child (only guessing now, I don't think I ever bothered to ask), and that he supposed I would love just as much: Huck Finn (Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain). He checked it out for me and told me to read it. I said, "No." He told me I would like it. I thought I wouldn't.

For four weeks, I glared at that 400+ page book, determined to not even give it a try. Every night my dad asked me if I read the book, and I grumbled "no" as I either changed the subject or left the room. I was so relieved to return that book -- more than any other ever. But I felt so terrible about the way I had treated my dad. Even at the time, I knew I was being a brat about it. I felt so awful about my state of stubbornness to not even open the book (I distinctly remember thinking it was a book for boys). I wish I had read the book. Even if it did turn out to be stupid. Or only for boys. I wish I had read it because it clearly mattered to my dad. I don't know if he even remembers this month in our shared history, but it's silly the way it has haunted me.

Since I can't go backward, I'm now going to read the book to Nicole, if she'll let me. And if she won't, I'll read it by myself. And then I'm going to report to my dad.

We Will NOT Be Getting A Turtle

Clint and Grant brought home a turtle fact sheet from Petco. And now I know that we will not be buying Grant a turtle for Christmas. The food part turned out OK; they can eat pellets, carrots, squash and lettuce in addition to disgusting things. The problematic part is this ... well cared for, they can live longer than I can and their tankS need to be cleaned weekly. Yes, tankS. That's one gigantic tank to live in, and an additional recommended tank for meals, so as so minimize cleaning (i.e., not more than weekly) of the big tank. Yeah, I am so NOT doing that. Plus, I'm not transporting a pet (especially an aquatic one) to Phoenix next summer. As it is, if the goldfish aren't dead, we'll be pawning them off on the first kid we see. (That just sort of reminded me of the scene in Dumb and Dumber where Harry and Lloyd sell their dead and beheaded tweety bird to the blind kid before skipping town. Ha. I should watch that movie tonight while Clint's working hard on his 26-hour shift. It'll keep me company and hopefully distracted from the story I just read about that TV anchorwoman who was beat nearly to death in her own home in the middle of the night (and in Arkansas, no less!). A dog is sounding better every day. A big German Shepherd, in fact.)

Back to the turtle, it's all Nicole has been talking about. She's determined to get a turtle for Christmas. She just added it to her list this morning, and she has vowed to do all of the work to care for it. If her history is used against her, it's only fair. Her four-week-old goldfish are now being fed morning and night by Grant because the food makes Nicole's hands "smell gross." She still likes to look at them. OK, maybe I'm being too harsh ... she does help transfer them to the temporary bowl while we change their water. Every three days. I haven't invested in the whole aquarium system because I fear it would be an overwhelming task to change that water ... monthly or whatever it is.

I'm just not much of a pet person. Unless it's a dog. In someone else's house. Where I don't have to vacuum its hair off the floor. Or unless it's a guard dog. That might do.

Babble, Babble

• It's nice to see gasoline at less than $3/gallon. Paid $2.82 this week and filled up the truck for less than $50.
• Wouldn't it be calming to live somewhere long enough to set up utilities on an equal payment plan?
• Clint thinks if we don't visit Europe next year, then it may never be safe for us to do so again. He wants the Great Britain tour. Me, I'd pick Monnieres (one of my favorite places in the entire world), or Sicily, or Sweden, or the whole shebang. I mean, if it's our one and only last chance to visit Europe, we had better make good use of our trip!
• Was referred to a great time-waster today: Etsy.com. It's the ultimate online flea market. And so inspiring. For example, isn't this cute? I wonder if it would be just as adorable if it were blown up to lap-quilt size and adjusted so as to be machine washable?
• The thought has occurred to me that if I don't find a way to add four more hours into my day (for sleep), then I might face an untimely death due to exhaustion.
• I miss blogging every day.
• The kids and I joined the YMCA. Now that's something I didn't see in my future when I was a kid. What did I see in my future? Oh yeah, I was going to be a cheerleader at BYU, marry a handsome basketball player, and become a cardiothoracic surgeon ... I'll take the YMCA, thank you. (You would, too, if you saw how cute Scotty's picture is on his very own member card.)
• Drove down a tree-filled lane today and conceded that Spokane can be a pretty place, in parts, at times. But we won't go telling that to Clint, now, will we? It's just going to be our little secret.
• Thought about making a 1920s dress, but couldn't find a pattern. Besides, every time I make something for me, it ends up not looking as cute as I had imagined. Who are we kidding anyway? One trip to the mall, five major stores and 30 outfits tried on, and I still can't find something I like. What makes me think I can just whip something up? Still regret not buying a gorgeous, pin-striped, navy blue, tailored, one-piece dress-suit that I found earlier this year. I knew it would be one of those items that I would dream about and always wish I had bought. It was $150, and I didn't really need it (still don't), so I didn't buy it. But don't you think every once in a while you should totally buy something that you don't need, only because you think life could never go on without it? Yeah, that's my dress. Ah, the sorrow.
• I have no idea what facebook.com is (or if that's even the right web address), even though I promised my brother and my sister (on separate occasions) that I would sign up. They forced me to agree to it.
• This morning I'm taking the kids to a park that I hate and they love. I don't know why they love it so much ... its toys aren't any better than any other park (except, perhaps, for the giant wagon in the middle; and by giant, I mean this thing is two stories tall). I hate it because it's too big, it's downtown, and the parking is expensive. I would probably love this park if I had a small, yappy dog and we strolled through it on an autumn day because we had absolutely nothing else to do. We're also going swimming. And if all of that proves to be more fun than we can handle, we'll push our luck and go out for ice cream. And then maybe to the fabric store to see if I can't find a pattern to make Nicole a wool jacket for winter. On second thought, we better strike the fabric store from our list of afternoon places to visit. We tried that once, and the results were disastrous!
• Since we started homeschooling, I've wondered once or twice if Nicole was happy. I mean, she appears happy, and she tells me that she enjoys it, but you know, I'm paranoid, so I've wondered. Yesterday she said, "Mom, I think I want to homeschool forever. I really love it." It melted my heart. Oh, and I quit wondering ... until tomorrow. Just kidding. At least until next week.
• Trying to decide if we should do a whole family shot for Christmas cards this year or just the kiddies. Thinking it should be a family shot, since our last family shot was taken before Grant's first birthday (this one doesn't count). But also thinking a family shot would look weird if my husband weren't in it. And seeing as he's only home long enough to kiss the kids goodnight each night, it's probable that he won't make our photo session. I suppose I could take a picture of him in bed and Photoshop him in. Or, maybe I could march our babies down to the hospital and ask a fellow resident to snap a quick something of us. Better continue to mull this one over.
• Thinking back on my list of things to do this week, and realizing that I can't remember any of them.
• Scotty's second tooth is almost through.
• I enrolled Nicole in a gymnastics course (finally!) because she's been wanting to take lessons of any sort, and also because I thought she would like doing flips with other little girls. Turns out the only other students in her class are boys, and for the only two sessions that she has attended so far, neither one of them has shown up. It's a great price for private lessons, but she and I both were slightly disappointed. Yesterday she said she didn't want to take the lessons anymore because "I already know how to do a cartwheel," but today she said that maybe she would keep going. She has one more session to go before we renew. Unless she totally loves it, I think we'll find a different class. Although, it was so cute to see my baby girl up on the beam yesterday in her pink leotard doing dainty ballet-type jumps.
• It's my brother's birthday today. The lazy one. I think he might be offended if he read that, except he's used to hearing it, and truth be told, I think he kinda delights in the words. Let's see, he ought to be 36 today. Wow, I hope I'm never that old. Just kidding. It wouldn't be so bad. I think. It's also the birthday of my cousin's daughter. I think that makes her my first cousin once removed. She's 6, just like Nicole. They do so enjoy playing together.
• We're thinking of getting Grant a turtle for Christmas. This will only be possible if we can find a type that doesn't survive off worms. We need something that eats pellets or anything that is not alive, nor ever has been.
• Speaking of animals, my dad saw our stash of moving blankets neatly folded in the garage, and informed me that it would make a fine home to a family of mice. Eew gross. Haven't been able to sleep since. Today is Clint's early day off, and if he doesn't get through checking those blankets before bed, I'm getting a hotel room.
• I could write more, but I think this amount ought to serve as the equivalent to three posts.

There's Nothing Wrong with Looking Good

I wish I had $116,912 in spare change to spend at Neiman Marcus.

Other than that, I have no issues whatsoever with Sarah Palin's wardrobe fund. Jealous, but no issues.

Something Sunk In

A long time ago, I heard my mom tell a fellow mother of teenagers, "You just talk to them until you're blue in the face, even if you don't think they're listening. You'll find out later that they did listen to you, and that they thought about what you said, and decided to act on it." Or something like that.

So technically speaking, we have a few more years to go until we have any official teenagers around here, but that doesn't stop anyone from already acting like one. So the other day, Nicole was giving me the freeze-out -- where she won't talk to me or look at me because she's mad (usually over something very small, like me letting Grant sit closer to the stove instead of her while we make dinner). I've been really frustrated with this sometimes, which is ironic, since I practically invented the freeze-out. I never like talking about why I'm upset or mad or displeased. I tried treating her the way Clint deals with me (since he's found a good system), but it didn't work.

Anyway, back to the other day. She was pouting in her closet when an idea popped into my head. I sat down next to her, with her back toward me, and I told her the story of the man who was always happy. You've heard it. (Reader's Digest version for those who haven't: He wakes up each morning and says to himself, "Today's going to be a great day!" And then one day he gets shot by some robbers in his small store, and when he's in the hospital about to be operated on, the doctor asks him if he's allergic to anything. He replies, "Yes," and everyone in the room stops to hear what it is. He continues, "Bullets!" Everyone laughs, he lives, and finishes the rest of his life with "great days," blah, blah, blah.)

I left her alone and within five minutes, she came downstairs and said, "Mom, I'm choosing to make this a great day!" And then she did.

A day or two later, I was having a sad day. No reason, necessarily, just not one of the greatest days of my life. I was in Nicole's room drawing her curtains and asked her to put her PJs on. She was playing with her Barbies, and didn't even look up at me when she said, "What's that sad, little voice I hear?"

I didn't realize she was talking about me, so I said, "What sad, little voice?" I was hoping that she hadn't really detected my mood, and was instead referring to her Barbies.

But no, she said, "In you, Mom. You sound sad."

I said, "Yeah, it's just kind of a sad day."

She smartly replied, "Did you choose to not make it a great day?"

Then I smiled, and chose to make the best of the one hour I had left before bed. She's told me several times since that she is choosing to "make it a great day!" I guess we both learned something.

A Taste of Teenagery

Nicole and I had a rare moment to shop for clothes while Grant and Scotty slept in the stroller as we pushed them around the mall. We had three hours all to ourselves, and I thought we would have so much fun girl-bonding.

I also thought that I should step back a bit from controlling Nicole's every move (mistake, as you'll see), and let her pick out some of her own clothes, with only one caveat: I had to like them, too. She picked Crocs, plastic Dora tennis shoes, and wild shirts with glitter all over them. I said, "No, no, no." Things were not going well.

Finally we found a display of similar shirts in different colors. Nicole wanted hot pink; I wanted red. So we left with neither. We had been shopping for two hours and had yet to make a purchase. I finally decided that I would just give in and pick up a few shirts that I didn't really care for, but which were tolerable. They were a good brand, after all. But by this time, Nicole was so mad that she wasn't speaking to me at all. She even refused to eat lunch in the food court (chicken nuggets, pizza, ice cream) after she had told me she was starving just ten minutes prior.

Here's what I learned:

• Nicole has not yet acquired a taste for fashion. It's like getting used to (and eventually enjoying or craving) stinky French cheese. It takes many years, and some will never have the pleasure.
• Nicole doesn't really care about what she wears. But when given the chance to choose something, she wants her way.
• I'm shopping online next time, and I'm not asking for her opinion.

This should buy me another year, I hope!

Am I the Last Person on Earth to Hear about This?

School Field Trip to Teacher's Lesbian Wedding Sparks Controversy

First graders. Oh my heck. Read the story.

Twelve Inches

Alternate titles for this post:

• My Mom Is Going to Kill Me
• Now Nicole Looks Like the Teenager She's Been Acting Like
• I Can't Believe We Did It (Although Nothing Should Be Surprising Anymore)
• I Got So Tired of De-Tangling Hair

Nicole keeps looking in the mirror and saying, "I look cute with my short hair, Mom." Although we didn't intend for it to be this short, I like it, too.

Eek! Nicole is Turning Into My Brother

I have a brother who is affectionately known as ... let's see, how do I put this gently? Oh forget it, he's just plain lazy and everyone knows it. When I was little, I remember that he had the messiest bedroom of all the kids. One day my mom told him to clean his room. Instead of cleaning it himself, he offered me a whole dollar to clean it for him. Back in those days, one dollar could buy two packages of Skittles from the golf course club house, so I did it. I think it took me an hour. At least it felt like an hour.

Fast forward twenty years and you have Nicole and Grant eating a snack in front of the TV upstairs. Nicole wanted more meat, so she sent Grant downstairs (to where I was) for a refill. As I was chopping up her meat, I thought, "This is so pathetic. I am NOT delivering food to her highness upstairs!" So I prepared the meat and then called to Nicole. I heard her whisper, "Grant, go get my food ... Please, Grant ... Grant, I'll give you money ... Grant, do you want some money? ... Grant, go get it!" Finally she came and got it herself. On her way back into the room, she said, "You're not getting any money, Grant."

It's My Birthday

Today I turned 28, which means that I was born in 1980. I've always liked my birth year because whenever I forget how old I am (it's one of those things that I don't need to keep track of), I can calculate it quickly. It also means that I lived through the '80s. Here are some of the things that I remember from my childhood.

Movies
Gremlins
Nightmare on Elm Street with Freddie Kruger (I have five older brothers)
Jaws
Back to the Future
Better of Dead
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Top Gun
Dirty Dancing

Music
Huey Lewis and the News
ACDC (Back in Black was the school song for the graduating class of one of my brothers)
Van Halen (my brother Gary taught me how to play one of their songs on his electric guitar; this was the influence that prompted me to buy a Van Halen CD for my first CD ever)
Chicago (I also have a sister)

Games/Toys
Battleship
Atari (Pac Man was my favorite)
Rubik's Cube
Gumby

Clothes
Long t-shirts with leggings (and the shirt pulled to the side and secured by a clip)
Two pair of socks of different colors on each foot
Scrunchies

Traveling with the Kiddos

We flew to Phoenix, of course, because it would take something like 26 hours to drive there from here. However, the big kids and I had a layover in Denver, so the trip took nearly all day anyway. For future reference, connecting flights are a waste of time when a direct flight is available. It's not that the trip wasn't worth the price we paid in airport hours -- because it was -- but it would be true to say that I really did earn a vacation.

We bought treats in Spokane before leaving. Nicole picked Whoppers, and Grant picked milk. This boy is seriously addicted to milk. When I let the milk run dry for a day, Grant goes through withdrawals -- stomachache, headache, irritability, fatigue, everything but chills and hallucinations.

Once we got on the plane, Grant had so much fun kicking the seat in front of him and opening and closing the tray table one hundred times. Luckily, no one was in front of him. Safe to say that no one (a.k.a. me) had any fun until this happened:
When we landed in Denver, even though our same plane was headed for Phoenix next, the company's policy forced me, two sleeping children and four carry on bags off the aircraft to wait for a half hour until it was time to haul all of that back on. Grant wouldn't walk off the plane because I had just awakened him, so I had to carry him whilst the flight attendants were annoyed that it was taking me so long to exit. A passenger relieved me of a bag just as I was about to drop Grant. When I reached the terminal and saw that my stroller hadn't been delivered to the gate, the gate agent told me I had to walk back to the plane to get it. I think I stared at him with my mouth open for a full thirty seconds before setting down my bags and Grant, who immediately fell back asleep on the floor.
I waited for everyone else to deplane. The last person off was the captain, who looked at me, then at the two kids and asked, "Is that your stroller back there? I'll go get it for you." He left his suitcase by me, the gate agent stared at the captain like he was sinking to a level that event rats shouldn't, and I said a thank you prayer.

Once I had my stroller, the kids and I set off to kill an hour. Grant wanted a chocolate ice cream cone, which dripped all over his white shirt and which still hasn't come out of the white shirt. I was thinking, as I walked through that gigantic airport, that someone could make a lot of money if they sold children's clothes in the terminals. I would have paid an arm and a leg to replace Grant's shirt. I should have just brought a spare, but we were maxed out on luggage (you know, if you don't fly Southwest you have to pay to check any bags at all).

Long story short, I miscalculated our layover time, and I didn't realize it until the plane was seven minutes away from scheduled take off. I was completely panicked until I saw that the door to the plane wasn't closed yet and that the standby passengers were hovering over our three seats. When the same meany gate agent saw me appear he said, "Oh, I thought you weren't coming back."

But we did, and we made it to Phoenix, and all was well ... until the return flight. No details necessary, but I will say this, I love it when people tell me how well behaved my kids are and then Grant waits until that person is out of sight before throwing the tantrum of the century. I know it's because he loves me.

I Found Something More Fun than Blogging

(swimming outside in the middle of October)

For the first two days at my sister's, Grant sat at the top of the pool, in his life jacket and dangling his feet in the shallow water, watching everyone else have a smashing time. Then he saw Nicole jump in off the side of the pool and into Clint's arms, and suddenly, he was transformed into a fish.
For the rest of our stay, he said, "Mom, pool. Day," ("Go swimming in the pool today.") and he showed me the sign language movement for fish. That was my cue to ask, "You want to swim like a fish?" To which he replied, "Yes, Mom." Grant quit saying, "Yeah, Mom," and now says, "Yes, Mom." So cute. Of course it's cute. I think everything my kids do is cute. OK, maybe not everything. But you know what I mean. Grant wore this one piece floaty-swim suit costume, making him look like the wrong shade of a teenage mutant ninja turtle.

Scotty didn't make it out to the pool as often as the big kids because he was too high maintenance. (Read: I couldn't very well play Marco Polo with Scotty looming around the great deep. One day this week, I convinced my sister and sister-in-law to take their kids out of school early so that they could go swimming with Nicole, when in actuality, I was the one who wanted to go swimming with them. I mean, Nicole liked swimming with them, but, man, I really liked swimming with them. And Clint, too! Clint has a sour reputation when it comes to swimming, but that's all put behind him after this week's performance. Each of us spent at least four hours per day in the pool with the kids, mostly playing Marco Polo, where Clint reigns, Susie (my slightly dishonest at times niece) cheats, Sammie flails, Kalia calls the rules, and I get caught every other turn. SO MUCH FUN doesn't even begin to describe our time in the pool with the kids. Clint got a good workout since Nicole and Grant both wanted him to carry them around the pool to play, too. I was too short and they kept getting dunked when I packed them on my hip.) So now, with Scotty, we tried this:
But in the end, he preferred for me to hold him:
Or play Ring-Around-the-Rosies:

And dunk him in at the end:I just love to tease him! Oh, I guess he also enjoyed roaming about independent of anyone nagging him or immersing him in water:Scotty's finally getting a tooth -- hence the funny expression. His gums have been driving him bonkers! He's already a little older than nine months old, and I really wish he didn't have to grow up and get teeth just yet. Come on, just a little more time, please?

Nicole jumped in once without her life jacket -- completely by accident -- and managed just fine. But she was much happier with her life jacket on.I always dread my last night in the pool. We stayed in until 7:00 last night because I just didn't want to get out (we hear it's supposed to snow in Spokane soon) because then I would have to get on two jets and go home (connecting flight ... ugh!) and that's just not what I wanted.

The upside is that we'll be living here soon and that next year we'll be able to go somewhere else on vacation, since we'll already be living in our favorite vacation spot. That's going to be weird. And HOT. Swimming all day and night kinda hot. I think we're going to need a pool.

On Vacation

Nicole: Mom, why is our vacation only three days long?
Mom: It's not. It's seven days, and tomorrow is our last day.
Nicole: Oh.
Mom: It's gone by fast, hasn't it?
Nicole: Yes, it goes by much more faster when you're having fun.
Mom: I know.
Nicole: It's not fair, Mom.
Mom: I know.

Try This for Dinner

It's almost a pasta carbonara, but better. You will not find this in my cookbook since I just whipped it up this week. But it's oh-so-delicious and rich and creamy that I've penciled it in. Warning: Not for the faint of heart.

Alfredo Sauce a la Lorena

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup butter
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 can evaporated milk
• 4 oz. cream cheese
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• pepper to taste
• 1 cup Parmesan cheese, freshly shredded
  

Directions

1. Melt Butter. Saute garlic.
2. Stir in milk, cream cheese, salt and pepper (I used a whisk).
3. Over low heat (so the cheese won't curdle), stir in the cheese until incorporated, melted and smooth.
4. Serve over pasta (linguine, rotini, whatever you have on hand).
5. To make a meal out of this, add in browned ham, pancetta or Italian sausage.

Searching for the Perfect Pumpkin (And Berries)

Before we went to the pumpkin patch, Nicole and I read a book about a little girl who wanted the perfect pumpkin. When she arrived at the pumpkin patch, she searched high and low until she found a small, round pumpkin. When she met up with her friends, they compared pumpkins. Some kids had tall pumpkins, others had large or lopsided pumpkins. When everyone looked at the little girl, they made fun of her and said, "Ooh, your pumpkin is sooo small." (Nicole said, "That would make her feel small inside, Mom.")

So then we talked about how perfection is in the eye of the beholder. After a small hunt at the patch, Nicole found her perfect pumpkin (small and round -- wonder where she got that idea???), and Grant found his (even smaller than Nicole's -- he tried to get a bigger one, but gave up when he couldn't lift it; Grant also found the odd gourds and said the ones with the bumps were yucky). Nicole picked out Scotty's bite-size pumpkin. Scotty didn't care what kind of pumpkin he got as long as he could chew on it.

The community of farmers that we visited also had one last round of raspberries. The kids had so much fun picking, and weren't even tempted to snack along the way. I didn't snack either, but only because we were paying for them by the pound, but it reminded me of picking blueberries for my grandma and only making it to her kitchen with half of the ones that I had picked.
This was our last trip to the farms in Spokane since their harvest is almost over and we'll be moved before anything worthwhile is ready next year. It's hard to believe that we already have our first "last in Spokane" event.

In Honor of Going to the Dentist Today

The Crocodile's Toothache
by Shel Silverstein

The Crocodile
Went to the dentist
And sat down in the chair
And the dentist said, "Now tell me, sir,
Why does it hurt and where?"
And the Crocodile said, "I'll tell you the truth,
I have a terrible ache in my tooth,"
And he opened his jaws so wide, so wide,
That the dentist, he climbed right inside,
And the dentist laughed, "Oh isn't this fun?"
And he pulled the teeth out, one by one.
And the Crocodile cried, "You're hurting me so!
Please put down your pliers and let me go."
But the dentist just laughed with a Ho Ho Ho,
And he said, "I still have twelve to go --
Oops, that's the wrong one, I confess,
But what's one crocodile's tooth, more or less?"
Then suddenly, the jaws went SNAP,
And the dentist was gone, right off the map,
And where he went one could only guess ...
To North or South or East or West ...
He left no forwarding address.
But what's one dentist, more or less?

What I Would Have Missed

We finished school early today, and Nicole quickly disappeared into her bedroom. A short while later, she emerged downstairs with two green crayons and told me that she had a project waiting for us in her room.

When we sat at her desk, I saw scrawny strips of paper that read "muny," accompanied by a dollar amount of 1$ or 50$. We colored them all and moved onto phase II of Nicole's plan.

The boys were sleeping so we had the whole house to ourselves. Nicole set up all of her dress up clothes in store-like fashion and told me to be the owner. She would be the repeat customer, and we would call each other "on pretend cell phones or maybe even real ones." (I don't know if Nicole even knows what a wall phone is anymore.)

Nicole named my shop "Sister Sister Fashion." The first time I answered the "phone," I said, "Sister Sister Fashion." From the laundry room, Nicole loudly whispered, "Say, 'How may I help you?'" Nicole made appointments to come to the store to make purchases, returns, and exchanges. She brought her little brother in one time, but all we had for boys was a belt. We also held an annual ball where all customers are allowed to take one item home for free.

Our afternoon of make-believe ended with the store being torn down because there weren't enough customers (Nicole made the wrecking sound noises). We took this picture on the last day that the store was open so we'll never forget. Don't be sad, though, I'm going to be opening a new store next time we play. I think we should make a store front. We have the boxes (and apparently the time).

The whole time we played, I kept thinking about how sad it would have been had I been sitting on the couch reading a novel and had Nicole been at school filling out a worksheet instead of the two of us playing Sister Sister Fashion together. I've heard homeschool families say that they have really strong relationships with their family members. I can see why now -- Nicole and I have spent so much time together in the past week. Not time together as in I'm cooking dinner and she's playing on the computer. Time together as in we're sitting next to each working on a common goal. We're playing together, learning together, having fun together. Nicole and Grant have also had more fun moments together than they did when she was at the public school. In the middle of the day for a break, they play catch or tickle each other or search the yard for unwanted mushrooms. I thought we'd have more fights between the two of them, but the fights have been less. They really are becoming good friends. That's the biggest unanticipated perk to homeschooling: all of us having the chance to get closer to and enjoy Nicole.

Everybody's Asking

Three days of homeschooling under the belt, and I think I'm going to need a bigger planner, a stronger back, and a maid.

Before the day begins, I jot down the things I want to accomplish the next day. Then, at day's end, I write an official report of our daily deeds in my 5x7-inch homeschooling notebook (sometimes with notes to myself at the bottom of what works, what doesn't, and ideas to try next). That looks like this:If you look closely on the left page, you can see the backside of a drawing that Grant left for me. No idea when he did this, unless it was at 6:00 in the morning when I was too tired to get out of bed and supervise him. I think that's his favorite time of day.

Nicole keeps a directed journal. I assign her a topic, such as, "Write three sentences about your goldfish." But then I turn her loose and don't give her any assistance whatsoever. And we get something that looks like this:Translation: They need fish food. We need to change their water. They swim.

One carryover activity from kindergarten is a daily message. I write a note to Nicole and she corrects the errors. I tried it yesterday for the first time. She did well (as I expected because she's done it so many times before), but I thought maybe I would get a little bored with it after a while. Then tonight, just as I was about to write her another message for tomorrow, the thought occurred to me that by the end of the school year, I could be writing her real letters that mean something to us and that we could keep and treasure. So this is a keeper activity. I'm going to gradually increase the length, and eventually teach Nicole how to write one for me/Clint. (As a side note, Nicole was surprised to learn that editing is the work that I do for my job. She couldn't believe someone would pay me to do this. After all, she does it for free.)

We also make crafts (I know, me and crafts in the same room, it's hard to imagine, but try). Today, for instance, we made this paper ghost chain.
We found the idea in one of our many library books. Speaking of library books, here are some of the books that we picked out today.
This is where the stronger back comes in. Also, I've noticed that I'm sitting down a lot less during the day. A stronger back would help out there, too. I was so sore yesterday and realized that I hadn't even sat down for a meal the whole day long. My sister-in-law sent me an email that made fun of women who "forget to eat." Me, I'm always forgetting, especially in the morning. I don't realize I've skipped breakfast until it's 10:30 and I'm on my way to Wal-mart. Anyway, the author wrote, "Now I've forgotten my address, my mother's maiden name and my keys, but I have never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat!" And there you have it -- I'm a special kind of stupid. I still laugh every time I forget. Now I've gotten off subject.

We also found these really cool books.Nicole is always asking about the inside of the body. How big is your brain? What does your heart look like? What's the biggest body part? Nicole and I cracked this thing open today, foolishly while Clint was at work, and after about six questions I told her to wait until her daddy comes home. I think the sixth question ironically coincided with page 48, where it showed real pictures and diagrams of where "life begins." Yep, irony, I tell ya. We've been cautiously avoiding this topic for years.

The Big Book of Trains, that's for Grant. And it really is a BIG book. It's the same size as his torso and he loves it so much. We might have to buy it or make a secret, midnight trip to the library to return it in four weeks. Oh, and this card book is so cute! We made a list of supplies we need to make this card:
One of my favorite parts of the day is Nicole's quiet reading time. She doesn't necessarily have to read in her head, because she likes to read aloud to herself, too. It just means that she sits all by herself and reads whatever she wants. It's for ten minutes each day. (I taught her how to keep track of ten minutes on the clock in her room, which only has Roman numerals.) It's not my favorite part because it gives me a ten minute break. It's my favorite part because I like to hear her read to herself (and make up words when she doesn't know the one in the book). I hope it's teaching her that reading is so much fun -- especially when you're a kid and don't have a mound of laundry to fold instead ...
Sorry, I meant mounds of laundry to fold ... (Warning: piles in pictures are much larger than they appear.)
Oh, and don't forget the ironing ...(This is where the maid would step in.)

Did you happen to notice the state of my sewing machine? It's being used a footstool for junk. That's how much sewing has been going on since our big upheaval. I'm going to whip it all into gear in time for Halloween, though, because I've got a medieval costume to sew. Nicole wants to be Lucy from The Chronicles of Narnia. She picked that one on her own. I tried to get her to pick Cinderella or Snow White, or even a cheerleader. Nope. Lucy. No one is going to have a clue who/what she is besides a girl in a red dress. Pictures to come after order has been reinstated and once again lost.

At least my dishes are done.(Do you really need a tour of my house after all of this?)

I Knew This Day Would Come

While saying the date and pointing to our calendar with her fairy wand, Nicole turned to me and said, "Mom, we need more kids to come to our school."

No, thanks. I've got enough kids here already.