Teeter Totter

We've all heard that life is like a box of chocolates, but in our case I think of my life more like a teeter-totter (seesaw, whatever you want to call it - I don't want to get into the soda versus pop debate...) Its all about balance, which seems to be such an elusive goal. I suppose the more kids you have, the more difficult it becomes, simply because of the sheer amount of time it takes to accomplish simple tasks when you multiply them times 5 kids. I have been very focused on creating and implementing a routine for our family with the beginning of the new school year, and I have to say I think it is working very well. My main objectives are to create the most stress-free environment in the morning by picking out clothes/shoes, packing backpacks and lunches and at least having an idea what's for breakfast the night before. Piper now has a dry erase tile on her wall with a morning checklist, just in case somehow during her slumber she forgets that we do in fact brush our teeth and make our beds every morning. Yes, every morning. Seriously, they look at me like I'm dropping a bomb each morning and this is a completely foreign practice I'm asking them to complete. Really??? The clothes being picked out the night before was essential for everyone's sanity. Trace would wear a paper sack if I laid it out for him, while Piper has some, shall I say, very definite opinions about fashion. Backpacks need to be emptied and put away as soon as the kids get home. Homework gets done before TV viewing, and I try to have a healthy meal planned and prepped. All these components are working together well, I must say. However when you add in 4 soccer practices, religious ed, and gymnastics each week, plus the normal stuff like baths, playing with friends and taking the dog for a walk the end result is not pretty. It usually consists of Tim and I surrounded by a heaping pile of soaking wet bath towels, two baskets of folded laundry waiting to be put away, two baskets waiting to be folded, and two more baskets waiting to be washed and dried. Oliver is having a field day with the fallout from dinner under the table, and the dishes are laughing at us from the sink. And the rest of the cycle goes a little something like this: Clean up the kitchen, dive into laundry, pack the lunches, sign the papers that need to be signed, lay out clothes for tomorrow, grunt at husband as I pass him in hallway, take out dog one last time, fall into bed, get child a drink of water, put child back into bed, fall back into our bed, put another child back into bed, fall into bed again, scoot over and just let this child sleep next to me, remove child's foot from up my nose, just get up already - COFFEE!!!! and start all over again. The moral of the story being that everything is never all perfect at once, which is just fine since perfection is not really the goal here. I guess something's gotta give, which is a concept I'm definitely more comfortable with as a mother of 5 than I was as a mom of just one. I know the laundry will still be sitting there when I get done folding the "Flying Ninja" from Trace's paper airplane book. At least as I'm folding the laundry, I get to hear him and Carter cheering and laughing as they launch it off the top of the stairs. I may not have the cleanest kitchen floor in the neighborhood, but I managed to be crowned "the bestest mom in the whooooole world" when I made them spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. Yes, we fish clean socks out of the dryer, clean spoons are often housed in the dishwasher and you could probably find a few stray sippy cups under the couch, but that's just how we roll around here. We're just seeking that elusive balance between chaos and calm, but we're enjoying the ride together... (insert circus music here.)

Back To School . . . Oh Happy Day!!!

I have been nesting lately. Not in the "I'm pregnant"sense of the term - I'm not totally crazy people!! But in the "the kids are going back to school" sense. Today I am giddy with excitement at the prospect of what tomorrow brings. I can smell the crayons, freshly sharpened pencils and new school shoes (which is a much better smell than Trace's skanky 4-month old flip-flops that have covered every inch of squishy mud Crystal Springs boasts!) I can hardly wait to take the kids' pictures by the front door holding their new backpacks, er - "Messenger Bags." But what I really can't wait for is the long-lost concept of routine. Yes, I loathed my mother's routines, muttering under my breath every time she said, "Dinner (Actually she usually sung that one word in an opera voice, which stretched it to at least 6 syllables,)time for CCD, you have soccer practice tonight, time to get showered, time for bed." But now as a grown woman with 5 kids of my own, I am literally skipping through the house at the thought of this upcoming week - the start of everything falling into its rightful place. And as my girlfriend Patti so eloquently put it, "Everything has a place, and my kids' place is in school." We are looking forward to the resurgence of a clean house. Not that we don't clean over the summer, but I liken it to shoveling while its still snowing. If you blink, you miss it. Dn't get me wrong, I have enjoyed (almost) every moment of this summer with my kids. I have loved hearing about their summer camp advenures, taking them to the park, going for walks, having their friends over to play, swimming, fishing, running through the sprinkler, watching them on the swingset and seeing them struggle to keep their eyes open at the dinner table after a day playing outside. But at this point, I have probably applied sunscreen 250 times, passed out 300 popsicles, gotten 600 cups of water, swept sand off the patio 50 times, reapplied sunscreen 100 times, been to 15 different parks, bandaged 30 scraped knees or elbows and heard "I'm bored!" 400 times. As my husband would say, "Put a fork in me, I'm done!" Now I look forward to bedtimes and homework, school projects and soccer practice. Until December at least, when I'm wishing for summer again . . .

WHY?

Fin and Mom

sound asleep after her big birthday

"Nana is a really good sharer"

with Auntie Ellen and Scout

I've always felt that the term "Terrible Twos" is a complete misnomer. I personally found nothing terrible about the "twos" with any of my kids. Now the "threes" are whole different story. . .

We are currently in the throes of the "Why Age" with our newest three-year-old, Finley. I am not a patient person by nature, but like to think that I manage very well as a mother. I can take a deep breath and keep on keeping on, even when things get stressful and the kids are at their most "challenging." That being said, the "Why Age" ranks right up there with the frustration level of being ten minutes late and getting stuck behind a farm vehicle. Of course, I love the wonder and curiosity Finley possesses, but there are days I just can't answer another question. She was especially perplexed the other day when we met Nana and Auntie Ellen at the mall. Nana had picked up Auntie Ellen at the car dealer while her car was being serviced. Our conversation went something like this:

F: Is Auntie Ellen riding with Nana?

M: Yes.

F: Why?

M: Because her car's in the shop.

F: Why?

M:Because they need to fix it.

F: Why?

M:I don't know

F: Why is Nana driving?

M: Because Nana and Auntie Ellen are friends.

F: Why?

M: Because they have been friends since they were little girls.

F: Nana was a little girl?

M: Yes.

F: Why?

M: Because everyone is little before they get big.

F: Why?

M: Because that's just how it works.

F: Why?

M: Because thats how God made us.

F: Why?

(Insert deep breath here...)

M: Just because, Fin.

Then as I sat feeding Scout, I heard Finley talking to herself as she watched Auntie Ellen get into Nana's car, "Mmm hmm, Auntie Eh-wen doesn't have a car, she has to share Nana's car, Nana is a really good sharer, Mmm hmm..." So that's what she took from our conversation.

I volley back and forth between really thinking about my answers and trying to give her good, solid information to just not having the energy and saying "Because" or "I don't know." Hey, I'm only human. But Finley is a tough cookie. Tim is convinced that she would be quite an asset to our country when used in interrogations. She could wear down even the toughest person. You see, when she asks you a question and she doesn't like your answer, she will just ask again. And again. And again. You get the idea. I like to think of her as a sort of personal trainer for my brain. No free rides here, people. She definitely keeps us on our toes. She has questions and she is determined to get answers. Well, I have a few questions of my own, like "Why do two socks go in the dryer, but only one comes out?" "Why do white shirts act as a magnet for dirt, and black shirts as a magnet for spit-up?" and "Why are there 2 dozen gladware containers and only one lid?" I will never claim to have all the answers to her questions or mine, but I think as parents, when we can't give our kids the answers to their questions we need to try to give them the confidence and the tools to get out there and find their own answers.

Mental Snapshots

Glamour Girl

Can't wait for the next rainy day

Look at my new wheels!

Yum Yum cupcakes!!

Sometimes I feel like my life is a movie. Each year, someone presses the fast forward button and it passes a little bit more quickly than the previous year. I feel completely powerless to this phenomenon, my only tactic the ever-increasing catalog of photos I take. I will myself to take mental snapshots as well, that focus on what the physical photos don't show. Because, the actual photos can only capture so much. They will never express the feeling of seeing your newborn baby for the first time, holding them against you and the look in their eyes telling you they know you already. They don't capture the smell of that same baby, now one, curled up against you when they wake up with tousled hair and sweet smelling milk breath. They also don't convey the way you feel when that baby turned two-year-old falls and skins her knee, and just the warmth of your arms is the only medicine she needs to soothe her pain. And then, in the blink of an eye, those photos are years old and your baby is three. Three years old. How can this be?? Birthdays are very melancholy for me as a mother. Of course, my inner Martha Stewart comes out and I feel the need to make everything over-the-top perfect for the birthday child. Both my husband and my dad are confused by this. They both grew up in families where birthdays were no big deal. It was a day not so much unlike any other, maybe a small present or a special meal, but none of the hoopla that they are in our family. I know, its just one day on the calendar, but for me its a way of dealing with the fact that my babies are one day older, and one day closer to being all grown up. I am overcome with the ferocity of my love for these little people who are growing up way too fast. So, I cook and I plan and I decorate. This is how I show my love. I try to enjoy each day with them, but lets face it, as a parent there's not endless time to dwell and enjoy when there's laundry to be done, meals to be prepared and messes to be cleaned up. From what my parents and other people their age tell me, that pure enjoyment comes as a grandparent. So in the meantime, I try hard to remember that the day I'm in right now will never happen again, so I need to LIVE it and enjoy it. I take lots of photos and mental snapshots becaue they are what let me relive the moments I swear I will never forget, and then I do.

Today I'm thinking of the day three years ago that I was handed a perfect little 6 lb 12 ounce bundle that is now a sweet giggly three year old. Happy Birthday Finley Violet! Love you.

FREE time

You can walk down any street these days and see signs of the times. More "for sale" signs, huge houses sitting empty after bank foreclosure, strip malls nearly empty with store after store closing down. Jewel is slashing prices, car companies are offering to take back cars if you lose your job and can't make payments.

The other day after we returned from Wisconsin to find our cupboard bare, we decided to grab a quick bite to eat. After that we were driving past a pet store when Tim said, "You wanna go look at puppies?" My first reaction was to say no, and the reasons why started scrolling through my head: The baby was fussy, she'd need to be fed soon. The suitcases were still sitting in the living room. I had tons of laundry to do. I was tired. The kids were tired. We just got home, and on and on and on. But for some reason, I said "Sure."

Can I just tell you that that hour was one of the most fun hours I've spent with my family in a long time. This little Jack Russell Terrier pulling on the hem of Finley's sundress and yanking it back and forth like a chew toy as she squealed and laughed was one of the funniest things ever. Piper stroking this yellow lab with enormous paws and looking at it like it was the best friend she'd been waiting a lifetime for was so sweet. I realized several things after our trip to the pet store. Number one, we are not getting a puppy right now (not that we were even thinking about it.) Number two, we will someday get a puppy. The look on both Tim and Piper's faces when they were loving up this yellow lab made me realize that my husband loves dogs and my kids should be allowed to experience having a family pet even if I end up being the one who does most of the work. But what I ultimately took from the trip came as we left. Piper looked at Tim and asked, "Dad, did that cost anything?" It got me thinking about how the best things in life really are free. We get so hung up on bigger and better, and when the economy tanks we're left faltering. But no one can take the simple pleasures from us. So on that note, I'll share some of my favorite (Free) time activities with you and encourage you to share yours with me.

1. Go play with puppies at a pet store

2. Go on a picnic

3. Play scrabble

3. Let your kids play in the rain (and take pictures)

4. Have a bonfire

5. Play hide and seek

6. Let your kids do your hair (or if yours is short like mine, let them do your sister-in-law's.)

7. Feed your kids lunch with the samples at Costco (that one's for you Nana!)

8. Take a "nature walk"

9. Go to a new park

10. Bake something with your kids.

System Overload

For the last several days, the kids and I, along with Aunt Paula, Nana and cousin Brody have been enjoying the peace and fresh air of the Northwoods. No obligations or appointments, playdates or pressures. Life is good. This is the Johnsons unplugged . . . or is it? Finley has been walking around with a bright purple Prevacid promotional calculator to her ear, even interrupting Nana during a lego-building session telling her, "Hold on, Nana, I'm on the phone." She is constantly "checking her voicemail," and taking calls from her friends Cassie and Dylan from school. (As I mentioned in a recent post, she does NOT go to school, nor do we know any kids named Cassie or Dylan.) She mimics the actions of the adults, sliding her finger across the surface of the calculator, like one would do to scroll through photos when checking Facebook on an iPhone. Dear God, what have I done to my child???

My mom reads a blog about "Pioneer Woman," whose life on a ranch with her kids and her Marlboro Man has become regular reading for thousands over the last couple of years. I think that the reason why is that we all deep down, long for simpler times. But we deny ourselves that, even when the opportunity arises. I am so guilty of that, practically quivering at the opportunity to check my email or Facebook notifications. God forbid I miss one comment on a photo or don't know right away that my old friend from high school is sitting in traffic at this exact moment. And I'm sure I'd be totally out of the loop without the TMZ app on my iPhone. After all, it was crucial that I knew of the deaths of Farrah, MJ and Billy Mays as soon as the news was reported.

I sit here at the laptop, breathing a sigh of relief, now that Tim, Rory and Dad have arrived. Mostly because I have really missed my husband, and realized how much I lean on him without realizing it. But also because my techno-geek (in the most loving sense of the word) brother has hacked his iPhone to function as a modem. Which means I can access the internet from my laptop without having to trek to the local townie bar to take advantage of their free WiFi. Again I say, life is good. Obviously, I say this half-joking. I am as guilty as anyone of wasting an inordinate amount of time on meaningless crap online, convincing myself that it is worthy of my time. Its when it cuts into our face-to-face personal interaction that it becomes a problem. So that means when Finley actually refuses to play legos for fear she might miss a phone call on her calculator, we have a big problem. But for now, she will still go fishing, ride her bike and play with Nana's dogs. She does have voicemail, after all.

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 . . .