I'm Running Away

Don't try to stop me!

The Warden has some kind of educational thingy up in Seattle, and I get to go along. It won't be a long trip, but it'll just be me and my man. Yippeee!!!

Oh, and my parents by marriage need to borrow our big van to move some things, so guess what we'll have to trade them for?....

Umm....This:

Okay, sheer honesty?

I'm scared

TO DEATH!

There...I said it.

I Cannot Be My Mother

My mother did EVERYTHING for us kids. Seriously, everything--laundry, dishes, cooking, cleaning, you name it, she did it. Yes, I was VERY spoiled. By the time I left home, I knew how to dust and set a dinner table. Please don't judge my mother by this. She was an only child raising six children. I firmly believe she was doing the best she knew how and those were different times.

Because of that, though, I decided that as a mother I would do things differently. My children would learn how to do for themselves, and for the most part, they have.

This morning started out rough and led me into my mother's life (for the second time). Let me explain....

We, the Warden and I, began with a conversation surrounding the topic of a habit one of our children is adopting that might not bode well for the future. Such is the case with bad habits, right? In discussing this, I explained my opinion that this wasn't something that could be forced. We had to somehow help this child come to the conclusion that this wasn't a good thing and that the child would have to somehow decide to change it. We could not force the change. All we could do was explain and attempt to persuade.

We finished our conversation, and I went to talk to the child. Things were easily understood, and an agreement was peacefully made. Phew! It honestly took about two minutes. But, I also added that if what we had agreed upon didn't work, we would have to come up with something more to take care of the problem. That also was understood. Did I already say "Phew?"

All was seemingly handled, but then it unraveled before my eyes. We walked to the kitchen, and the Warden completely sabotaged my efforts. That child stormed out of the house and walked to school--no breakfast, no lunch in hand, nothing. Ugh!

I'm sure the Warden didn't mean to sabotage me. We hadn't even had a chance to discuss the terms of the treaty I'd pushed for yet. Did I already say "Ugh?"

image: tumblr.com

Add to this picture the fact that when said child walked out the door, I thought all that had happened was that the child had gotten into the car for the customary ride to school. I sent #7 out with a peanut butter sandwich (very like my mom would have done), so that the child, who has sports after school wouldn't collapse while doing said sports.

#7, after a few moments, rang the doorbell, she had accidentally locked herself out. We opened the door, and there she was standing there with her little blonde head against the wall, tears spilling onto the uneaten sandwich. Her words as she sobbed: "[Child]'s not there."This was when I understood how angry the older child really was.

image: theatlantic.com

Let's add to this picture, shall we? Immediately after that car drove away with its occupants, the last remaining children were milling around the kitchen. One of those kids comes to me and says, "We never have breakfast." In other words, we never have sugary cereals anymore.

That was IT! Really? Why is it that no one else around here can do what I do? I mean, that was the idea behind this motherhood thing, right? Teach them to do for themselves? Are they really this helpless?

image: mrbreakfast.com

I walked into the kitchen and showed the breakfast-less child the English muffins, oatmeal and bread. I explained about a dozen things that could be done with those ingredients.

I would like to step back in time for a moment....

Back to this, which was my rebuttal to some really ugly comments on this from March 4, 2011:

image: wakemedvoices.org

I confess

I made my 2nd grader go without lunch today.

My children make their own lunches.  They are given enough lunch money through their accounts at school to buy four lunches or one lunch a week for the month.  This particular child overdraws his account monthly.  It's to the point that the recorded voice from the school district calls and leaves messages daily about his account being overdrawn--they call until it's been paid off.  I only pay on the first of the month, so sometimes we're five days into the month when the calls start in.  He was warned last month that if he overdrew, it would be his last month with lunch money in his account.  So, you can see what happened.

Today, I volunteered in his classroom.  He came to me and told me he'd forgotten his lunch.  I told him I wished he would have told me earlier, so I could have brought it with me when I came to volunteer.  It was then that I found out he hadn't even made one.  His teacher was standing there--sweetest person in the universe.  She told me that he'd forgotten yesterday too.  She explained that she hadn't called because she was pretty sure what I would say.  This teacher is very good friends and a former co-worker with my mother by marriage, so she knows how things roll with the Hesses.  So #5 went hungry at lunch yesterday too.

I have full confidence that he'll start getting this.  Yesterday his teacher gave him some crackers to get him through the afternoon.  I thanked her.  She said she could do that again.  I asked her to please have him do something for her to compensate her for the crackers.  She agreed.

Do I sound like the worst mother in the world?  It all goes back to the idea of feeling entitled.  I don't want any of my children thinking that they can have what they want if they manipulate the system just right.

So, there will be a nice, healthy snack for him when he gets home today.  Like I said, I sure hope he learns this lesson soon.


Have I softened since that time? Maybe, but I don't think so. I am stressed about a child who goes off without breakfast and won't be home until after 5:00 tonight and will be doing sports in the meantime. I, however, wouldn't stress about a child who's had breakfast and misses lunch to come home to a substantial snack and dinner a couple hours later.

But, the child that went off without, set me off.

I decided that I'm tired of being sabotaged. I decided that if I'm the only one who cares, then I will be the only one who works. I will become my mother for awhile and see if there's maybe something I'm missing. I will touch every base. Every child will have a clean room and will be well fed. I will make sure of it ALL. They will wear the clean clothes I picked out for them.

At this point, I've finished four loads of laundry and three loads of dishes, fed seven people breakfast and four people lunch, put dinner in the crockpot, wiped tables and put clean tablecloths on, picked up #7 from preschool, visited the bank and deposited some checks, and welcomed two friends at my door. There is much else to do, and like my mother, I won't sleep tonight until they're done.

image: nairaland.com

I have to confess that doing this for a day makes me feel great love for my family. I now see why my mom did it for us. It was her way of showing selfless love, and in this I find my confusion. In serving them, I feel love for them, but what I've learned from teaching my children to do for themselves is that the greatest thing I've given them is self-esteem. When they are self-reliant, they come to see their own capabilities.

Is one right and the other wrong? I'm not sure, but I tend to think not.

Am I being a martyr? You'd better believe it, but I quickly learned that I can't do it grudgingly for very long. It has wrought a bit of a change on this morning's upset heart.

So, I wonder, will they notice my work and jump in to help? Yah, I doubt it too, but there was a little glimmer of hope this morning.....

#6 got up after all of this had gone down, having afternoon Kindergarten has its benefits. He asked what there was to eat. I told him about the bread, English muffins, and oatmeal. He immediately went for a bowl. He didn't sit around whining, begging me to get him a bowl, or to make it for him.

image: michelleprice.ca

Being in the mode I was, I think he was surprised when I took the bowl from him and poured the oatmeal and again when I took it from him as he was heading for the water and did it for him. I then took it, after he'd pulled it from the microwave and took over the job he was already doing of putting brown sugar in it. I think he was a bit confused as to what was going on. I think he wondered if I somehow found him incapable.

I was grateful to see that his natural tendency, at the age of six, is to do for himself. It isn't in his nature to sit around wondering who's going to serve him. He serves himself.

I have learned that my mom was wonder woman. How did she do this day after day after day?

Yes, I will continue this through today--picking up after everyone, every little thing they put down--but I don't know if I can do it like my mom did. Actually, I know I can't. I know my kids are capable of much more than sitting around, but this little perspective makes me appreciate my mom that much more. It reminds me to love and appreciate my family and all that they do and to overlook all of those things that I have been viewing as sabotage.

Maybe I need to find some balance--somewhere between me and my mom.

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The Relationship I Chose

I'd better start this post with a disclaimer.  I've been wanting to write a post like this for a long time.  It is not pointed at anyone in particular.  If it helps you great.  If it doesn't apply to your situation, which I hope it doesn't, that's great too.  These are just some ponderings I've had on this topic....

You will notice that I don't call the Warden's mother my "Mother-in-law."  I am also not her "Daughter-in-law."  She is my "Mother-by-marriage," and therefore, I am her "Daughter-by-marriage."  The term "in-law" has such a negative connotation to it that we decided to change things up a bit.  We didn't feel that either of us deserved that title.

I write this for anyone who struggles with this relationship.  I might even go so far as to say that this tie between in-laws is the most difficult relationship there is.  I don't think I feel about my husband's mother how others feel about theirs.  I have to say, though, that it was a conscious decision. Forgiveness is a conscious decision as is working to repair things.

At one point, early in our marriage, I think this relationship could have gone either direction, but I decided that when I chose to marry the Warden (20 years ago on the 21st), that I also chose his parents as mine; unlike my parents, these are the parents I selected.  Since that was my choice, it was also my choice what to do with that relationship.  I could make it or break it.  I couldn't just expect it to work out and leave it alone.  I also couldn't look at it as "oh, they're just my in-laws" and expect it to be all that that term entails.  I had to DO something to make it work and work positively.  I owed this to my husband and my children but mostly to myself.  As a result, this has ended up being one of the most rewarding relationships in my life.

I will share that it hasn't always been sunshine and roses, but I would also assert that they have never earned the name "in law."  They are great people.  They are also VERY different from my own parents.

I know that there is nothing I can do to change anyone else's behavior toward me, but I can choose to forgive, and I can choose my own behaviors toward them.  This is especially true in a volatile relationship such as this one.  I have to give them the "benefit of the doubt;" if something happens that offends me, I need to believe that they didn't mean it the way I took it and quickly forgive them--even if they did mean it the way I took it.  I can't judge them by their motives, I can only be responsible for mine.  If my motives are bad, then I have some changing to do.

When there have been down-er times in our relationship, most of the time it's either been because I have chosen to be offended by something that's been done or said, or I have been careless; I have neglected to send pictures of the kids (something I'm TERRIBLE at) or forgotten to invite them to join us for fun things we do or not sent a little note or called from time to time.  Like with all relationships, I know that I need to make some thoughtful gestures from time to time, or that relationship will die.  This also goes along with the saying, "In order to have a friend, you have to be one."

I know I have friends who have "outlaws" more than "in-laws."  They try to do thoughtless and even mean things.  I'm grateful not to have this situation and feel sad for those who do.  I would say in this case, it's even more important to be the one who makes the moves in the right direction and keep trying.  Be thoughtful and overly kind, even if they still choose to be rude.

I wish everyone could have the Warden's mother as their mother-by-marriage or someone just like her.  The Warden's mom has made me her traveling companion a couple times--just the two of us--when I was a mother to a bunch of little, tiny ones and really NEEDED to get away; she saw that need and filled it.  She also, after #6 was born, hired a housekeeper to come in once a week for the first couple months knowing that that's probably what would be the best baby gift for a recovering mom of many.  She's AMAZING, and I love her!  Who knows, over time, if your side of the equation tries extra hard, maybe it could become this way.

I am grateful that I have forgiving, loving parents-by-marriage, but I want to encourage anyone who might struggle with their in-laws to try something today.  It's never too late to start; today's as good a day as any.

The Omens of Death

Thirteen years ago this month, my mom passed away. I need to get this out in the open...I miss her. I probably didn't need to say that because, if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you already know that.

It's a strange thing, but every year at this time, I get into a bit of a funk. It's like something inside me keeps time--my biological clock?  Usually, I start to feel a bit low and then when trying to figure out why, I realize that it's March. Last year, I mentioned how I was feeling to a friend, and she commented, "Well, Julie, isn't this about the time of year when your mom passed away?" That, somehow, gave me the reassurance that this wasn't going to last forever, and I was able to get above the feelings.

Please bear with me as I think, this year, I may try to get some memories out of my brain and down on this blog.

***

Thirteen years ago, life was VERY interesting. What I share here, you will think is a big fat lie, but I promise, this is just as it was. You can check with the Warden. We lived, at a time of death in our family, surrounded by death.

In July of 1997, we moved to a house out in the country at the end of a gravel road on the top of a hill in Monmouth, Oregon. We had two children (ages 3 and 1) and were expecting our third, who was born two months later. We were housesitting for a couple who were on a mission to Africa. One of our jobs was to feed and take care of their cat.  We enjoyed living there.  The scenery was beautiful and peaceful and the house was wonderful.  We felt it a real blessing to be there.

After residing in the home for a number of months, in about March of '98 (when #3 was about six months old), we had gotten word that the Warden's grandmother had a brain tumor. The Warden's mother went to Pocatello, Idaho, to take care of her. We were awaiting a phone call any minute that would inform us of her passing.

My mom, during this same time, had been diagnosed with colon and bone cancer, and we were packing our kids into the car twice a week to help take care of her in Portland (an hour away).

Let's just say that, whenever the phone rang, we jumped.

Daily, during this time, the cat would leave us little "presents" on the doorstep. You'd go to step outside to the carport, and there would be the daily offering--usually a vole or a mouse--on the mat. The cat had done this previously from time to time, but this was everyday. She never missed. I got so I dreaded leaving the house only because of the death the lurked there. It was definitely a "look before you leap" scenario everyday. You never knew what you were going to find; don't step too hastily.

Eventually, in late April of 1998, we received the phone call from the Warden's mother. Her mother, the Warden's grandmother, had passed away, and we were heading to Idaho for her funeral. We were there for a few days and returned. I remember being anxious about being away from my parents and their situation for too long.

The day after we returned from Idaho, I was sitting on the couch reading a book to #1 and #2. As I read, #1 stood up on the couch and looked out of the window behind us. She said, "Mommy, look at the big birdie." I turned around and sure enough, there was a bird. A vulture was circling the house and swooping. I knew this was a sign that death was nearby.  Being the chicken that I am, I didn't go out and investigate--I was scared. I was pretty sure no vole or mouse was causing this.

About a half hour later, the doorbell rang. It was an exterminator who came around every few months. I greeted him and sent him off to his work around the perimeter of the house.  I know what you're thinking--"Don't go out there!  Get back in your truck and DRIVE AWAY!"

After only a few minutes, he returned to the door and explained to me that there was a deer carcass right out at the back of the house next to the pool. He wasn't allowed to touch it or go near it, so before he could finish his work, I'd have to take care of it.

That was NOT going to happen that day. That big guy I'm married to would be riding up on his white horse later in the evening, and he would take care of it for me. So, I sent the exterminator away telling him that we'd call him when it was taken care of. He had also explained to me that it was very strange for a deer to come so close to a home to die. It was clear to him that it had been there for a few days. Needless to say, I was NOT going to go out to inspect.

Do I have to say that at this point I was pretty freaked out? No? I didn't think so.

Well, the deer stayed there for a few more days--so much for my brave knight. We had called the county and every other agency we could think of but no one was willing to do anything for us. Since it was on private property, it was our job. Ick! We were both freaked out about having to take care of a dead thing; I mean, a vole is one thing, a DEER, however, is a completely different story. We're city folk, what can we say? But, eventually, the Warden got his nerve up and got out there and did the deed  My hero!  I would say, though, that that experience would rank right up there being one of the grossest things he's ever had to do.

It just so happens, that a few nights later, while in bed, we heard a roaring engine coming up the gravel road to the house. We ran to the door and looked out the window to see a white van come zooming up right toward the house. The headlights shone in our eyes. As soon as it came, it was gone. It drove around the house and took off back down the road.

The next day, there was another deer carcass found on the gravel road just below the house.

I have often looked back and wondered why. Why when we were facing death so imminently, did it seem to surround us on all sides?  There was no avoiding it. We have never had any experience like this since, thankfully.  I will add, however, that the cat's gifts, as I recall, seemed to be a bit more sporadic after this, but they didn't fully stop until the day we moved.

In July of '98, we moved to the home we live in now. Our move had nothing to do with getting away from the omens of death.  At the time they were happening, I was so engrossed in concern for my parents and the Warden's grandmother, that I don't think I fully appreciated the weirdness of what was going on until it was over.

Thanks to the Warden's parents, we were able to be closer to my parents to help with my mom's care.  Something I will always be grateful for.  That will be a post for another day.

There's your story for the day, boys and girls.   Admit it....you were scared.  Weren't you?

The Gala Prep

 Warning:  The photos at the end of this post were taken after the gala, and it was raining earlier in the evening, so...you get the idea--not the best.  There will be more later when others release what they've taken.

Here's how the afternoon went down....

I, walking around zombie-like after minimal hours of sleep the previous night, go volunteer at the elementary school.  I arrive home after finishing correcting math papers and picking up two tired children from a friend's house, start putting one down for her nap and find a message blinking on the answering machine.  It's the Warden reminding me that #4 has a campout tonight and we're to have him at the church at 4:29--no later.  Bad news....we've all forgotten this particular campout, and #4 arrives home from school around 4pm.

I call the Warden, he suggests I go get #4 a bit early from school, so he can prepare for the fun ahead.

Done!  Oh, after I pulled the small one from her bed after just laying her down.

We go back home after picking him up to look for a few extra dollars that might just be laying around so #4 can take a decent sack dinner with him on the campout.  The great desire is Subway, so I'm trying to eke $5 from the remaining budget (remember, payday's on the 20th)--what are the chances?

Somehow, miraculously, I find that the grocery budget for last week wasn't touched, so I find a nice little wad of money.  We get #5, who has just gotten out of school and head to Subway.  On the way there, I call #s 1 and 2, who have decided to walk home from school and tell them the plan.  They decide to walk to Subway instead.

We all order sandwiches and blow a small portion of the wad.  Nice to be able to treat my kids to something special at the end of a pay period on a Friday afternoon.

#2 starts talking about all of the plans he has made with his bubs for the evening.  I'm half listening as I distribute sandwiches around the car.  He asks if I can drive them.  I tell him it's not a problem--not sure what I was thinking.  Let's blame it on the lack of sleep, shall we?

When we get home, #4 goes to pack, and I make the realization that my parents-by-marriage will arrive at 4:30, so I'd better get ready to go.  We have to drive to a hotel near the airport on a Friday evening on President's Day weekend, so it's not going to be pretty.

I get partially dressed with the plan to get the hairspray done before I put the dress on.  #1 does my hair and has quite a bit of fun promming me up for the evening even adding little jewels to my hair.  (I have to admit, I'm not a froofy kind of girl, but it's fun to be a princess for the evening).  Wow!  Two self-created words in one paragraph.  I pull the dress on, stick the earrings in my ear lobes and fasten the necklace around my neck.

After less than half an hour to pull is all together, we're off--#4, #2 and two of #2's bubs.  It's about 4pm.  I already know there's no possible way I'm going to be back home by 4:30.  When we find that no one has arrived at the church a half hour early (why would they?), we decide, last minute, to drop #4 at a friend's house so he can get to the church by 4:29 and then head off to drop off the other three.  About this time, #1 calls to ask if I bought cheddar cheese soup for her crockpot mac and cheese--SERIOUSLY LOVING the kids making dinner thing.  Oops.  I hadn't.  We stop.  The boys run in and get it, and we're off again.

Oh, I did my make up in the car as I waited in the grocery store parking lot.  Typical.

I drop they boys off, inquire as to how #2's planning on getting home, to which question I get the response, "I'm not sure," shrug my shoulders, and I'm off again.

I arrive home, get out of the car and #3's standing on the front porch clapping as she sees me coming.  She tells me I'm beautiful.  Does life get better than that?

I walk in to find my parents-by-marriage and the Warden waiting for me.

We hit the road and after roughly an hour and half, we arrive at the hotel that is only 21 miles away from home.

There, that's the prep for the evening.  I LOVED it!--once we got there.  More on that later....

For now, here are the photos:

The hair--I was going to do this fancy updo, but it was a disaster, so it became a simple bun, glammed up by #1.

And...here's the dress.

Oh, by the way, #2 got home just fine.  I knew he'd figure it out.

Merry Christmas!

At about 7:30 this morning our doorbell rang.  The Warden and I looked at each other trying to figure out who could be ringing the bell at that hour.  #6 ran to the door and answered it.  I could hear a woman's voice say, "Is your mom Julie?"  I was a bit baffled.  "Will you give these to her?"  At that point, I started scrambling for something to wear, but by the time I ran to the door with the tray #6 had run up to me, I had missed her.  It was Morgan's grandmother with an entire tray full of the most amazing warm cinnamon rolls with the words "Merry Christmas" written in red and green in the most beautiful handwriting on the foil.  
I sat and cried.  What time must she have been up to make such wonderful rolls?!  They were still WARM!  She hadn't been to my house before.  She must have had to give herself a bit of extra time for that too.  So touched by her thoughtfulness!  They were FANTASTIC!  Thank you Vic!

I woke all the kids threatening that if they wanted one they'd "better come now, or they might all be gone."  Such an amazing way to start the day!



Every year in the past, we've spent Christmas Eve at the Warden's parents house.  Last year that ended, and we had a party at our house with a number of other families.  As we faced the reality of it just being us this Christmas Eve, and I have to admit, we felt just a touch of sadness.

My family, growing up didn't do much for Christmas Eve.  I remember we all got a new pair of pajamas, and I remember my mom, many years, working hard to get them all made by that night.  That was about the extent of Christmas Eve for us, but for the Warden's family, it was HUGE.  His mom made wonderful food and hosted parties of anyone and everyone.  We were all encouraged to bring friends along.  There were always carols sung around the piano and the reading of the nativity out of Luke.  In more recent years, that reading included costumes and acting the story out.

As dinner was just about on the table, the doorbell rang.  It was some dear friends that we don't see very often any more.  They had joined us in years past up at the Warden's house.  We were so glad to see them.  They had come by to drop of a card and some treats.  We asked them if they'd eaten.  He mentioned that they'd "just been snacking," so we invited them to join us.  They had a number of deliveries still to make, so we told them to come back after.  It worked out perfectly.  We were able to throw together a bit more food while they were gone.

It was wonderful to spend the evening according to Hess tradition!  What a wonderful little tender mercy!  #1 played the piano, we read about the birth of Christ and enjoyed some time together.

Now, I'm off to bed, and everything's set for the morning.  Can't wait to see the kids faces.  Breakfast is waiting in the fridge.  I'm doing this this year.  We'll have ham and funeral potatoes (see cookbook p. 18--tomorrow evening).  Tonight, we had the traditional Hess dinner (last recipe on p. 21, Caesar salad, corn, rolls, and for dessert, the bottom recipe on p. 52, which #6 referred to as "Mex in Japan" tonight.  Hmm.  That might just stick around here.)

I hope whatever you're doing that you have a very merry Christmas!  What a wonderful time to spend with family and remember the real gift that God gave to us--his Son.  Merry Christmas to you and yours!!!

Working Toward Functionality: The Impact We Have on Our Children

Before I switched blog addresses, I had a bit of a thing going with this talk.  It's one of the optional reading assignments for the personal finance class I'm taking.  I thought the messages in it were so important that I'd share it here.  For the past posts I've written on it, you can go here.  I'm at point #4: "Parents are very aware of the impact they have on their children."

James MacArthur shares that children are like human blackboards and that we, as their parents, are continually writing on those blackboards--intentionally and unintentionally.  Intentional is obvious--the words and actions we choose, either positive or negative, to share with our kids.  Unintentional is "things like ignoring, impatience, or no time for a child;" although, I would like to add that unintentional messages can also be positive.  I think it's these kinds of messages that truly express how we feel in our hearts about our children.  When speaking to others about our children, do we tell our friends what rotten thing that child did that morning, or do we say positive, kind, endearing things about them? 

I guess when it comes right down to it, it kind of goes along with what my children term "Mom 1:1"--"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

MacArthur also states, "Don't get too paranoid about all this as if you have to watch every word or deed with your children.  You don't need to be that wary but you do need to watch for PATTERNS.  To be too busy once in awhile or too impatient occasionally is unlikely to inscribe a negative message on your child's blackboard but a regular pattern of being too busy or too impatient could."

He encourages us to write conscious messages through spending time with our children, or if we leave early in the morning and don't get a chance to interact then, write a note for the child with words of love and encouragement.  MacArthur also says, "If you consciously take time to play games with a child--what might you be writing on their blackboard?  'You are fun.  You are worth it.'  Good messages for a blackboard to receive!"

Timing is sometimes very funny.  I was just chatting with one of my older children as we took a car ride, just the two of us, the other day.  This particular child gets very frustrated with the younger siblings.  Sometimes they act a bit immature, and let's face it, obnoxious.  These things make this older kid CRAZY.  I found that out from following MacArthur's third point.  Yes, I've been sitting down and having regular one-on-one time with my kids getting to know their hearts a bit better.

As we discussed these feelings about the younger kids, I encouraged this older child to use positive words toward them--to look for the good no matter what because even if there's bad, there's ALWAYS something good.  My mother-by-marriage used to say, "Even if you just have to say, 'Wow!  You're breathing really good today....Keep it up!'"

This older child said, "Yah, but [one child] is the laziest person I know.  It makes me CRAZY."  I said, "Maybe so, but let me tell you how I'm dealing with that right now.  All weekend, I've been telling [that child] how much I love what a hard worker [he/she] is.  Whenever I catch [him/her] doing something without complaining, I make sure to make a point of it."

Confession:  I'm not always good at this, but I'm working on it.

So, here's the funny thing on timing, and I wish I could take a picture of this so you could see it, but my camera's on the fritz, and Santa's been alerted....

Yesterday, that "lazy" child came home from school.  (S)he brings papers home from school frequently that look like a writing outline with triangles and boxes on them.  When I checked homework yesterday, here was the beginning of that writing outline in the child's handwriting:  "I'm proud of working the most with no crying or moaning."

Wow!  Did I write on his/her blackboard or what?!  What a great reminder to me that what I say means more to my kids than nearly anything else they experience during their day.  I'm magical.  Sometimes I forget that, and just to think that I thought my magic faded when my kisses stopped making boo-boos feel better.  So glad to know it continues.  Excuse me while I get my cape out of the dryer--had to wash the baby puke out of it.

MacArthur's last words in this section are also very necessary:  "...a burned out and resentful parent is no good to a family."  There we have it.  Take time to write on your child's blackboard intentionally but make sure we're taking care of ourselves at the same time.

For Thanksgiving, we got to open a Christmas gift early.  This is very unusual and not part of our family tradition, but one of the things we received was a $100 gift card.  The Warden told me to use it for Christmas shopping, but I told him I'd rather spend it with him, so we're looking forward to having a little get-away very soon.

Never forget that you're MAGICAL!

New Baby

Ha!  I knew that title'd get your attention.

So first, do you like my new header?  I did it myself.  I think it turned out really fun.  It wasn't what I was expecting to do, but I think it's so fun, I decided not to change it.  Supposedly there are 192 photos in it.

Now back to the point at hand....

No.  We don't have a new baby at our house, and actually as I got to looking at #7 this morning, I realized that my baby days are over.  She's so big, and I swear she's grown at least three inches in the past week or two.  Ugh!

As I looked at her, I got to thinking about a few things that helped out when we did have a new baby, and I thought I'd take a minute and share them here for anyone who might be heading that direction.  If so, CONGRATULATIONS!!!  No, I'm not jealous because I figure I'll hopefully have grandchildren within ten years or so, so it's all good.  But, I'm VERY happy for you!

One thing I remember was feeling tied to the couch a lot during the breastfeeding months--especially the first couple.  The thing we did here to keep things a bit simpler was to put together a basket with basic supplies--diapers, wipes, burp rag....I even remember putting the remote to the TV and a couple books in it.  Each night, I'd restock the things that would run out--diapers and such.  Just make sure the basket has a handle, or it gets a bit rough to pick up with a baby in the other arm.

When the baby got hungry, I'd simply grab the basket and the baby and go.  It made things so much easier.

With my second baby, I had the added challenge of keeping my older child busy and out of trouble while I was feeding her brother.  Funny how she'd never been a challenge until he came along.  She found that the insides of the kitchen cupboards were fascinating--no joke.

So, here's what I eventually did for her, but more so when younger siblings came along....

There were a couple times when I delegated this to my mother-by-marriage, and she did it as a baby gift to us.

For the older siblings, when a baby was born into our family, I would put together a box for each of them.  In the box, would go things that were age-appropriate for each child.  These were things they could play with--coloring books and crayons, blocks, little toys--while I was feeding the baby.  When I was done, the toys would go back into the box and back up onto a high shelf until the next time the baby needed to eat.  Putting the box away each time made it a special thing.  These boxes were also awarded to the children by "the baby" at the hospital.

When child #4 came along, though, we did something different.  Actually, we did this with child #3 also, but when child #4 came along, my mother-by-marriage did it, and it was fabulous!  She went way above and beyond.

She purchased a baby doll for each child.  Since we were having a boy, she bought "boy" baby dolls--if you get my drift.  She had a diaper bag for each complete with diaper, burp cloth, receiving blanket, change of clothes, a bottle, and a baby carrier (front pack type).  The kids were totally decked out.

When I was doing any of these things for the real baby, they could do the same for theirs.  These babies didn't disappear to a top shelf, they were theirs to take care of at all times.  I caught some flack about giving my oldest son a doll, but I figured being a good dad has to start some time.  Why not at 4-years-old?

These things made life with a new baby fun for everyone.  Nobody felt left out because there was always something for them to do.  I hope this helps.