Back to school

So as much as I try to pretend its not happening, school is starting! I have really really enjoyed having my kids home this summer. Now I'm not saying that there weren't {MANY} moments that they were bickering incessantly and I wanted to lock myself in the bathroom or put them all in a basket on the fire station steps and go back home to sit in peace and quiet. But they're a little big for that, and I would miss them after a few hours... And seriously, we had a fun summer. We didn't take any big vacations or have something "to do" every day, it was just a really good mix of swimming and fishing and walking and parks and Popsicles and movie marathons. The smell of chlorine and sunscreen and sunshine and shampoo and stinky Crocs. Bodies littering the family room floor because it's like a frat house here in the summer, and that's ok because we didn't have any buses to catch. Now I can feel reality sneaking up on us, like when "they" start telling you how many shopping days til Christmas and I begin to panic. I feel this almost crushing sense of sadness win I think that the next time they're all home with me for the summer - they'll all be another year older. A little bit more independent, a little bit closer to "Mom, I just want to play with my friends today..." {{SIGH...}}

I went back and forth with "Should I start making them be in their own beds by 8 pm and practice getting up and dressed early?" and I decided that come August 21, they'll have to get up and I don't think we really need to practice it. So over the last couple weeks, we've been soaking up every last little drop of summer and that doesn't mean I'm out of touch with reality, it just means I'm ordering one more drink at last call, baby! It'll be closing time soon enough :(  But for now, we're letting the bodies fall where they may, we're sleeping in (sometimes, past 7 am - GASP!) and we let the day take its own direction. Soon enough, we'll have to conform. Soon enough . . .

One thing I did vow to get a handle on this year was the overwhelming influx of "school papers." With four kiddos in school full time plus one preschooler this year, it's gonna be a doozy!!! I started by asking other moms if they had any suggestions or systems that totally worked for them, took bits and pieces and here's what I came up with. I used mostly what I already had, and turned an otherwise unused wall in our dining room into our "family command center."
Each student has an inbox (clear wall pocket) for papers that need to be seen, signed or sent back. Anything that needs to go back to school goes on their clipboards, made by Melissa Frances scrapbooking. I bought the clipboards YEARS ago at Archiver's and have been just waiting for the perfect use... I used mod podge to adhere some scrapbook paper to each board. The clips are embellished with acrylic letters + coordinating card stock I punched with a circle punch and glued to a chipboard hang tags I had saved from the kids' Life is Good T-shirts and painted with Martha Stewart chalkboard paint.
The framed cork board was a steal for $9.99, and is the perfect spot to tack up school newsletters, lunch menus, district calendars or Book It sheets.  I found the clock and wall decal dry erase calendar at Target in the back to school department. The whiteboard weekly calendar and dry-erase to-do list are from the Board Dudes.

I'm pretty darn pleased with how it turned out....

Its scary to be a kid

For the last 10 years, I have been stuck in a vacuum of diapers and bottles and preschool programs, first steps and first teeth and big girl beds, etc. These all-consuming tasks that seem to take up every waking minute I have (and often those I don't have) render me guilty of sometimes overlooking those grade school troubles that often fly under the radar. Often, especially when a child is so self-sufficient at an early age, its easy for them to be pushed to the back of the pack when there's a stream of little siblings vying for your attention. After all, she can take her own shower, brush her teeth and fold her laundry. He can tie his shoes, get dressed and make his own breakfast. They assert their independence in many little (and sometimes big) ways. "MOOOOOOM! You're embarrassing me!!" Tim and I were in for a real treat when we realized that we became "lame" before they were even 10.... Seriously??

I never feel at any point like I "have it all together." On the contrary, I usually feel like our daily life is a teeter-totter. Its never prefectly balanced. If I've taken the kids to the park, hosted their friends for lunch and swimming or met up with friends or family for the afternoon - you can tell. The laundry's 5 loads (or 15) deep, the dishwasher needs to be emptied and you could easily wipe "DUST ME" on my console table. I like to think (or desperately hope) that its akin to a balanced diet as in

Its what you eat in a week versus a day that really counts. Just as there are those moments that stop you on a dime, slapping you in the face and telling you "Wake Up!! Pay attention to what's important here!!" there are also those moments that tell you , "Settle down, you're doing a good job. They get it." Finley had an especially rough night a couple nights ago - apparently she decided her bangs were in immediate need of an emergency trim right at the moment Tim was trying to get the baby in bed and I was ironing her patches on her new Daisy smock. (Let me just say I have NEVER had a child cut their own hair before. Never.) Thank the Lord she went with a smallish patch and not too hideously short. There was hope. I fixed them and she looked in the mirror. . . Only to promptly burst into tears (and when I say tears, I mean a high pitched shrieking reminiscent of Darryl Hannah in Splash.) at which point she began gasping, crying harder and screeching over and over "I look so weird! I look so weird!" Now at this point I did what any good mother would do - I called in reinforcements. After a stern talk telling the other kids verbatim what I expected them to say and reminding them not to smile or laugh, I brought in her brothers and sister. They gushed and told her how beautiful she looked and all seemed to be okay.
I continued to put the Daisy patches on the vest and a few minutes later Carter came in to see Finley again. My almost 7 year old presented his little sister with a container of playdough, his favorite pencil and his $2 from the tooth fairy to make her feel better. His most prized possessions.... and a card . . .


which reads: "You have 100 friends. You are the best out of all of them and you are the best in the whole world."




Apparently the front was softening the blow for the back of the card, which reads: "Your fish died. I'm really sorry."

And there you have it. They get it. It was funny, but so sweet and innocent in a 7 year old boy way. He used what he had to show his sister he cared and tried to make her feel better. Of course, it caused a whole new wave of tears (aka shrieking) and a "burial at sea" for Red Billy (I feel ashamed I never knew his name until his passing...)

Go with your gut

I was recently included in a group message by a grade school friend who is about to have her first child. She was looking for suggestions on a pediatrician from all her "mom friends" out there in cyberspace.
As I sat there reading the other responses from the other women who either LOVED their pediatrician or were just lukewarm about them, I thought of what I could contribute. I like our doctor. That's about it. He is knowledgeable, he is friendly and listens to my concerns, he has a sense of humor and the kids like him and the nurses there. That being said, I think the wait time is waaaaaay too long when I have made an appointment in advance - would he wait for me in that fun little room if I was running late??? Of course not! I have heard other doctors accuse him of giving out antibiotics like candy and having too many patients to handle. The jury is still out on that one. You may be wondering why in the world I'd entrust my five most precious blessings to someone who I don't fully trust. . . .
The answer to that is that there is no one out there (besides Tim) that I fully trust when it comes to my babies! It is a scary business being a parent - I've heard it likened to your heart walking outside your body, and I'd say that is pretty darn accurate. Suddenly, you love someone so fiercely, and and at the same time spend every waking (and sleeping) moment terrified that they will be hurt by something or someone - or worse yet, hurt by you! God forbid I make the wrong decision in terms of what I think is best for them. Am I being strict enough or too strict? Letting them be kids, or not teaching enough responsibility? Giving them enough activity or overscheduling?
I realized as I read this email today, that as moms, the most powerful tool we have is our gut. My mom used to say that she never really worried about me getting into too much trouble as a kid because I had such a good conscience. That same little voice inside from when I was a kid, is what guides me today. Its that feeling in your stomach that something's just not right. Its how I know when my 9 year old is trying to pull a fast one on me, or when my 3 year old's ickiness has gone past just a regular cold. Its how I know that a certain child needs a little one-on-one mom time or that 2nd grader saying they don't feel good is worried about something at school.
I don't claim to know better than a doctor, but I do believe that my gut feeling rarely leads me astray. I will never put my full trust in a doctor, teacher or anyone when in comes to my child, and that is the advice I would give to any new mom. Do what feels right and what works best for your family. Be an informed mom, do your research, don't be afraid to ask questions. When you don't feel comfortable with the answers you get, ask different questions or different people. After all, you are your child's advocate!! They need to know that you are on their team. That's not to say that things will always turn out perfectly - its a rare night that I go to bed feeling satisfied with everything that happened that day. But like they say, hindsight is 20/20, and hopefully we learn from our mistakes. My mom says nobody ever tells you all the guilt that comes along with being a mom. So true- I like to think that plays a part in keeping me determined to do right by my kids. There's an instruction manual for every petty little thing ever invented, except children. So in the meantime, I'm gonna keep going with my gut!!

Home is where your story begins

Scoutie is 9 months old today!!

The prettiest little angel in the Christmas band

The cutest goat in the manger

What we wake up to every morning in our bed

We all know that our houses are simply physical structures that are made of tangible pieces - bricks, mortar, insulation, wood, nails, shingles, etc. And we've all heard "home is where the heart is." But rarely do we, or should I say, I , stop to think, really think, about what intangible things make up a home. I started thinking about it a couple nights ago.

When I was newly married, and even more so when Piper was an infant, I spent a lot of time at my parents' house. You men out there may not understand this as well as us womenfolk, but motherhood in the early days can be quite a daunting and confusing task. Its not the basic act of caring for this new life so much as your new role. Suddenly, you are supposed to fit the bill. You will not only care for this baby, but also make it seem like you've got it all together. House clean, check! Grocery shopping done, check! Laundry clean, folded and put away, check! The wonderful aroma of dinner cooking when your husband gets home, you bet! Somehow in the middle of this though, you start wondering how you went from being a little girl to someone else's MOM!! For me, I think I blinked and suddenly I was the one in charge of all the things that my mom used to be in charge of, and let me tell you that is a scary thought!! Nearly nine years later there are still days its a scary thought :) So, anyway, I think thats why I spent a lot of time at my parents' house, because it made ME feel secure, taken care of and like everything was going to be okay even when I wasnt sure what I was supposed to be doing.

Why, you ask, did I start thinking about all this now?? Tim was working late so I took the kids to Nana and Papa's for dinner. No special occasion, no birthday to celebrate, just to be together. Okay, the crockpot full of homemade meatballs and marinara played a little part. Let me rewind just a bit and tell you that my parents moved about a year and a half ago so the house we go to now wasn't the memory making house per se. But it was when I was walking to the freezer in the basement to get another loaf of garlic bread before going home (Nana's great for carryouts) that I had a moment. I realized that even though my mom and dad have lived in this house only a short time, it has their mark on it. It has that "feeling" to it - you know the one where it's like a big hug, a deep breath, a weight lifted off your shoulders.

One of my favorite things in my home is the sign about the doorway that reads, "Home is where your story begins." My sister-in-law gave it to me several years ago, and it's so true. It really doesn't matter where you live, or how long you've lived there. Your memories travel with you. It's how you treat the people you make part of your family, the times you share together. Coming back home, wherever home is at the time, is a great feeling.

I'll probably never have it all together the way my mom did. I'm still scrambling to get lunches into backpacks when the bus is rounding the corner, my daughter ate mac n cheese for breakfast this morning and I was late turning in my kids book order forms. But, those lunches were nutritious and tailored to each child's personal tastes, the mac n cheese was organic, and I read with my kids every day. It is rare that all our shoes make it into the closet at the end of the day, they often have to be located under the chair or couch and you can usually scrounge up a full ziploc baggy of Annie's cheddar bunnies under the seats in our Suburban.

Despite all this chaos, I hope that my own family feels the same way about the home we are making together that I do about the way my parents still provide emotional comfort for me. This time of year is obviously full of Christmas traditions in our home, but we also celebrate two December birthdays. Piper turns 9 on the 14th and Carter will be 5 on the 15th. (How's that for planning???) There are three things that always have to happen on birthdays in our house. Number one, the birthday child picks the dinner meal. Number two, breakfast is ALWAYS the birthday coffee cake which is a gooey concoction of butterscotch pudding mix, cherries and frozen dinner rolls. (A huge challenge for a dye-free fam, but go ahead, challenge me!!) Yummm!!! And finally, the birthday child picks their cake. This sounds simple enough, but is apparent that my children have been spoiled with an abundance of homemade treats. No simple chocolate or vanilla here. Carter has chosen carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and Piper requested a chocolate peppermint ice cream cake. The carrot cake is in the oven for Saturday's celebration and I begin the search for all-natural peppermint ice cream free of the dreaded Red 40 tonight. Trader Joe's and Whole Foods, here I come. I like to think that these simple traditions (complete with the aroma of ginger and cinnamon wafting through the house) will be part of the story I'm beginning for my kids.

Here's hoping that all my friends and family get a chance to come back home this holiday season, wherever home may be. May your holidays be filled with old memories and plenty of time to make new ones.

The pecking order

I think one of the most difficult things about having a big family, or should I say being part of a big family, is finding your place. The oldest gets the most privileges and can do the most for themselves. The youngest gets the most of mom and dad's attention because they need the most care. The toddlers get the most praise because they are constantly achieving new things. But what about that age where nothing new is really happening? What happens then? This is when the "pecking order" becomes very obvious. The other day Finley started sobbing in the car. I hadn't heard what Carter said to her, but by the intensity of her wailing, you'd think it was the most horrible, unimaginable thing ever. When she finally calmed down enough to get the words out, here's what she said . . . "Am I'm the boss of Scout? Carter said I'm not the boss of Scout!" This was what had shook her little almost 3-year-old self to the core. The fear that she was not in fact in charge of someone. To think she might be the lowest of the low men on the totem pole. Horror of horrors!! So I of course explained, as any mother of many children would do that Daddy and I were the big bosses, Piper was the boss of Trace, Trace was the boss of Carter and so on. So yes, she was the boss of Scout. Obviously I say this tongue in cheek, because I want each child to respect to his/her siblings and them all to exist in harmony as equally important and contributing members of this family. (I'm still waiting for the harmony part!) But I do think that there's nothing wrong with a pecking order - that is life. My mom tells the kids all the time that they have to listen because mom is the boss, and that will never change. They of course get a real kick out of it when Nana tells them that she is still the boss of me. And her mom is still the boss of her, etc. Let's face it, there's always someone we answer to, whether its God, our parents, our employer, our children or the authorities. I don't think its a bad thing, it makes us more conscientious of how we behave and often motivates us to be better at what we do. I tell Piper all the time, if you wouldn't be proud to have me hear about something you say or do, that's probably an indication that you shouldn't be doing or saying it. Hey, I'm 32 years old and I still appreciate my Mom's approval. No, I don't need it, but I still like to know that my mom is proud of me. I don't think that will ever change. I know my kids seek that same approval from Tim and I. We have witnessed a good deal of looking for attention from the other kids since Scout's arrival, and we try to reiterate that negative attention is not better than no attention at all. However, I try to be sympathetic to the fact that sometimes being part of a big family means it's easier to get lost in the shuffle when life gets hectic. I know when Finley starts telling me stories about her teacher and the kids in her class that she might need a little extra attention from me, considering she doesn't actually have a teacher or even go to school yet. So I play along, and aske her if she had a good day at school. And for now I'll let her be the boss of Scout . . .